“It’s after 1:00 PM,” Wheein announced between bites. “Where’s Yongsun-unnie?”

The Fine Arts student’s patience with the resulting silence lasted until the food in was fully swallowed. Glaring sharply and expectantly at her friends—one to her right, the other across from her—Wheein raised her eyebrows, now confused as to why her question had yet to be answered.

“Don’t look at me,” Hyejin brushed her best friend off. “I sent a message in the group chat. As you can see,” she perfunctorily pointed at her phone on the table, full attention on her food.

“And she didn’t respond,” Byulyi in. Hyejin always did this, exaggerated her contributions to finding solutions to things.

“Hmm,” the group’s youngest placed an artificial nail to her chin in faux thought, “I don’t remember you doing anything to help, unnie. Maybe I missed that.”

“Maybe you did.”

“But she’s right, unnie,” Wheein came to Hyejin’s defense. “If you texted her, we’d get an answer in half a second.”

Hoping the other two caught her reluctance to follow down this line of conversation, the athlete slung an arm over the empty chair to her right. “If I remember correctly, the two of you are her favorites, right? That’s what you both said. Using that logic, why would she respond to me before responding to you?”

Not even seconds later, all three of their phones vibrated atop the white, plastic table. Gloating, Byulyi smirked. “See?”

The four of them planned to meet for lunch at the Food Court in the Student Center. Accommodating all of their schedules during the week was a chore, but, determined to make it happen, Wheein and Hyejin found a pocket of time that all four women could meet. The third-years and Byulyi were supposed to meet at noon, with Yongsun joining at 1:00 PM. The issue, as Wheein had pointed out, was that it was past 1:00 PM with no sign of life from Yongsun.

“Ugh. She’s not coming,” Hyejin pouted, unceremoniously dropping her phone back onto the table.

“What!”

“Yeah. She has a group project for one of her classes and one of her partners suddenly can’t meet later so unnie has to work on things with the person now.”

“Today is the only possible day,” Wheein whined.

“We’ll have to try for this weekend,” Hyejin suggested.

“It’s part one of Chorong-unnie’s birthday celebration this weekend.”

“Then we’ll have to try again next week.”

“That’s too far away!”

“What else would you recommend, Wheein?”

Sensing Hyejin’s growing annoyance, the artist turned her attention to Byulyi. “What time is Yongsun-unnie done with classes later?” The athlete was across the table, face-deep in her phone. “Hello?!” Wheein flailed her arms.

“Who? Me?” Byulyi asked belatedly, looking back and forth between Hyejin and Wheein in confusion.

“Obviously you. We don’t have her schedule memorized.”

“I don’t have her schedule memorized either.”

“Unnie, please,” Hyejin chuckled while wrapping strands of noodles around her chopsticks. It annoyed Byulyi. “Just answer Wheein’s question before she throws something at you.”

Looking over to Wheein, Byulyi saw the impatience wearing thin in the younger woman’s eyes. Sitting up straight, she sighed. “What day is today? Wednesday?”

“Yes,” Wheein confirmed immediately.

Closing her eyes to conjure a mental image of Yongsun’s schedule, the senior mumbled, “She has class until 6:00 PM.” 5:50 PM to be exact, but if she said that out loud, it would sound creepy.

Despite her prickliness this afternoon, Byulyi was just as excited to see Yongsun as Wheein and Hyejin were—equal parts excited and anxious. The two hadn’t physically been in the same space since Yongsun’s birthday on Sunday. Everyone, graduate students included, were plagued by midterms. This wave of exams, papers, and projects, though, seemed busier than usual for Yongsun. As she usually did, Byulyi offered to come over after practice, only to be met with rejection two days in a row, even after promising to not be a distraction.

It was very likely that Yongsun was, in fact, as busy as she claimed to be, but the tenuous resolution to Sunday’s fiasco weighed heavily on Byulyi. Rationality and logic didn’t fare well under the weight of such stressful conditions, leaving the senior to conclude that Yongsun was avoiding her.

Never mind that the blonde responded to all of her text messages and answered her pop-up phone calls, the physical distancing had to mean that Yongsun was still miffed about the way things went down on her birthday. This sudden absence from lunch only served to further confirm her suspicions that Yongsun was mad at her.

Wheels spinning on how to fix this latest disaster, Byulyi missed the women across from her trying to get her attention.

“Unnie!” Wheein yelled, momentarily drawing glances from students packed in at nearby tables.

“Huh?”

“Hyejin said she needs you to give her some money.”

“What?” Turning attention to Hyejin, Byulyi asked again, “What?”

“I need money. For Yongsun-unnie.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“If you were listening instead of daydreaming, you would’ve heard the plan.”

Summarizing things once again, Hyejin explained that because her classes today ended at 3:15 PM, she’d do some schoolwork before meeting with Yongsun at 6:00 PM. Wheein would join them soon after getting out of class at 7:00 PM.

“You have class until 7:00 PM?”

“Please don’t remind me.”

“That . Hyejin, why do I have to give you money for Yong, though?”

“To feed her!” Hyejin emphasized. “She doesn’t listen, Wheein. Unnie, I said it how many times now?”

“Why am I paying for feeding her?”

“We obviously don’t have money for it, and unnie can’t go hours without eating.” It was the ‘obviously’ that made Byulyi’s eye twitch. Reaching into her the pocket of her sweatpants, the athlete grabbed her wallet, retrieving a few paper bills. “I can’t go hours without eating either,” Hyejin peered over the table to catch a look at the open wallet. Halting her actions at those words, Byulyi met the youngest’s unwavering stare. Sighing and mumbling unintelligibly under her breath, she pulled another bill out. “Wheein can’t go without eating eith–”

“Hyejin.”

“Y’know what, yeah, that’s enough.” Counting the money handed over, she tapered off, “We’ll make do, I guess.”

“Someone’s cranky,” Wheein chimed in.

“The two of you are scamming me. Plenty to be cranky about.”

“It’s not that,” the younger woman observed her every movement. “You’ve been like this since we sat down. Hyejin and I thought you’d be in better spirits after ‘celebrating’ unnie’s birthday on Sunday.”

And there it was. An hour and twenty minutes into their lunch.

“We were hoping to bring it up with both you and Yongsun-unnie present, but since that’s clearly not happening now . . .”

“You set this entire lunch up to do what? Ask about what’s going on between us?”

“And to catch up,” Hyejin added.

“But we already did that in the first half of the lunch, which leaves the final item on the agenda . . .”

“You and Yongsun-unnie!”

“The two of you were so cute at her party on Saturday!”

“Weren’t you knocked out, Wheein? Not sure how you can speak on things you didn’t personally witness or experience.”

“You see how she lashes out when angry, Hyejin? The two of them have that in common.” Turning back to the disgruntled athlete across from her, Wheein ignored the verbal jab that was directed at her. “I took one for the team on Saturday. It happens. Just like cute video calls happen. Right?”

“Was I supposed to not call her for her birthday?”

“I told you a few minutes and then the two of you took my phone hostage,” Hyejin spoke up.

“You’re being dramatic.”

“Almost as dramatic as you were on Monday, messaging me about everyone that showed interest in unnie.”

“Oh my goodness! She was messaging me, too!” Wheein laughed in disbelief.

“‘Hyejin,’” the aggravating junior imitated Byulyi’s signature deep tone, “‘who is this person asking if Yong’s single?’”

“‘Wheein-ah, tell that kid he’s too young for her.’”

If the state of things between her and Yongsun weren’t so vulnerable, Byulyi would have laughed at the impersonations and her desperate attempts to deter strangers from pursuing the older woman. For her birthday, many of Yongsun’s friends made social media posts commemorating the day, as friends do. Most of them were innocuous. The comments were not. Beneath every beautiful photo of Yongsun were unwanted inquiries looking to find out ‘what’s her @’ and ‘is she single?’

Frankly, it pissed Byulyi off.

Pride bloomed within her at even the prospect of saying that she belonged to Kim Yongsun and that Kim Yongsun belonged to her. More than anything else, that’s what Byulyi wanted—the right to brag to family and friends about dating Yongsun.

It was the one thing beyond her reach and control.

Even if she and Yongsun were officially dating, Byulyi wouldn’t explicitly broadcast it on social media, but she imagined she’d continue with more of what she already did: being herself and leaving a trail of circumstantial evidence behind for those concerned enough to piece together. In terms of social media, the title wouldn’t change her behavior much. However, she expected it to inspire their friends to at least step in as gatekeepers. She and Yongsun being together would have likely prompted someone—even the nosier members of the SNU community that knew the degrees of separation between everyone at the school—to respond with a sarcastic ‘not gonna happen’ or ‘better luck next time’. But no, she and Yongsun weren’t together, so instead of telling these randos off, everyone laughed and liked the overzealous and overambitious comments of interest.

“So?”

“So?”

“Tell us.”

“About what?”

“About what’s going on between you and Yongsun-unnie.”

“Something’s going on between me and Yongsun?” The hope was that her playing dumb would annoy Wheein and Hyejin as much as their questions annoyed her.

“Yes,” Wheein spoke confidently. “You confessed, she confessed, and now the two of you are hiding a relationship from us.”

“A relationship? Are you sure of that, Wheein?” She chuckled, but it held no humor.

“I’m positive. We talked to unnie on Monday and asked her what she did for her birthday. She said she spent the day with you, except she wouldn’t say what the two of you did. That’s suspicious.”

“And you two were being extra cute on Saturday. Like a couple.”

“We were acting the way we’ve always acted.” Not fully the truth, not fully a lie.

“Exactly,” Wheein giggled, “like a couple.”

Byulyi released the exasperated groan she’d been holding back since this topic came up. Raking her fingers roughly across her face, she tried to end the conversation without blowing up on her friends—the state of things between her and Yongsun wasn’t their fault.

“We’re not a couple.”

“And you expect us to believe that because . . . ?”

“I will say,” Wheein jumped in, “you’re more convincing than Yongsun-unnie probably would have been. She always gives it away when she’s lying.”

“Omg, yes!”

Falling into their own world, Wheein and Hyejin recounted tale after tale of the poorly concealed fibs and fables exposed by Yongsun’s inability to keep a straight face. Judging by the laughter floating over from their side of the table, the two were having a great time. Byulyi almost felt bad about having to ruin the jovial mood. Almost.

“We’re not together. I’m not lying, and it’s not a joke.” The cacophony of voices filling the Food Court continued, but Byulyi’s words drained the air at their table. A shift in mood was felt immediately, almost making Byulyi wish for a return to moments ago where the juniors were too wrapped up in jokes to pay her much of a mind. Almost.

Scratch that. She definitely preferred the excitement of moments ago to the looks of pity now directed at her.

“You’re really not together?” Wheein’s taunting was now nothing but excessive cautiousness, finally approaching the topic with the reluctance Byulyi wished for as soon as it was first brought up. Timing was just not on her side these days.

“It’s not that big of a deal, Wheein. We’re taking things slow, trying to make sure we do things right.” Accustomed to repeating them to herself each day, the words slipped effortlessly from .

It’s not that big of a deal.

We’re taking things slow.

Trying to make sure we do things right.

Any one of those sentences, or any combination of the three, always did the trick when Byulyi needed to blanket any doubts she had about her and Yongsun—she’d been using them more often recently. It seemed the carefully crafted words of comfort were working on Wheein.

“Oh! The two of you talked about it then?” The question was tinged with relief.

“Yeah. She needs more time, which makes sense. So . . . no labels or anything for now. We’re just taking things day by day and seeing what happens.”

“Hmm. It’s a tricky situation, but I feel like you two got past the hardest part—the confessions. There might be tough times to come, but you and unnie have been through a lot together already, and that was before either of you acknowledged your feelings. Now that those are out in the open, hardships may be more manageable since you both know that the other is in it for the long haul and won’t flake under pressure.”

If what Byulyi shared with her friends was the full truth, Wheein’s words of wisdom would have been reassuring and spot on. She didn’t have the heart, though, to explain just how complicated something as straightforward as reciprocal feelings had become.

“You should get in the business of giving advice professionally, Wheein,” the athlete mustered up a small smile.

“If I weren’t so good at art, I might have considered it.”

“Speaking of art, it’s a quarter to 2:00 PM. Both of you should get going before you’re late for your classes.”

“Already? Time flies when you’re being nosy.”

Watching as Wheein cleared the area around her, Byulyi noticed that she hadn’t heard Hyejin’s voice in minutes, which was odd because she never stopped talking. Looking over, she caught the junior staring back at her intensely, features molded in contrived passivity. If Wheein weren’t present, Hyejin—who Byulyi knew wasn’t buying the half story—would have given her a less understanding and much less gentle earful than the one her childhood friend offered.

Thank goodness Wheein was present.

As the younger women collected themselves, Byulyi reminded them that her Senior Night was on Friday, dinner with her family would follow, and that her mom insisted they attend. Fed up of her oldest daughter forgetting to mention dinner to her friends, Kyungah called Byul every other day until the athlete could confirm that Wheein, Hyejin, Yongsun, and Heeyeon would join the family for a meal to celebrate the ending of Byulyi’s collegiate basketball career.

“How could we forget, unnie? Free food and we get to hang out with your mom. She’s so much fun, unlike you,” Wheein playfully stuck her tongue out before giving Byul one final parting hug.

“I’ll be sure to let her know,” the senior deadpanned.

“Tell your dad I said that he’s fun, too. I don’t want him to feel left out.”

“Back off my man, Wheein. I’m his favorite.” Of course Hyejin would speak up to stake her claim on Byulyi’s father.

Waving her off, Wheein made her exit, unable to delay her journey to class any longer.

“She speaks,” Byulyi gasped in faux surprise.

“She does, but she prefers not to repeat herself.”

“It’s fine, Hyejin.”

“That’s what I thought after this weekend . . . and then you opened your mouth today.”

“It’s fine. We’re figuring it out.”

“Are you trying to convince me or convince yourself?”

“Your class starts in less than 10 minutes.”

The hope was that Hyejin cared more for her studies than her need to be right. Once she sighed, Byulyi, too, let out a sigh. One of relief.

“If I didn’t actually like this class, I’d skip it and make you tell me what’s really going on.”

“It’s a good thing you really like this class then.”

“Unnie,” Hyejin warned her.

“Things are fine, Hyejin. Yong and I have some things to talk through, but we’re figuring it out. Midterms are making it difficult right now to find the time we need but I think we’re on the right track.” Meeting the other woman’s fierce glare head-on, Byulyi smiled genuinely when Hyejin relented.

“Fine. I have no choice but to take your word for it. For now.”

“That’s all I ask.”

Rummaging through her oversized black tote, Hyejin fished her cell phone out, groaning at her screen.

“Okay, I have to leave now if I only want to be 5 minutes late, but unnie, please, remember what I told you during Midnight Madness weekend.”

“How I could ever forget?”

“You’d somehow find a way.”

“Go to class, Hyejin-ah.”

“Yes, mom, I’m going,” the young woman dramatically rolled her eyes. “Have a safe practice later, okay?”

“I will, thank you.”

With one last hug, Hyejin left Byulyi to her own devices. Unsurprisingly, the athlete’s mind wandered to her friend’s words from months ago and remained stuck on them.

“Contrary to what you may believe, I’m a fan of the two of you being together. Just not right now . . . You’d be great for her and she’d be great for you when you are both ready. She’s not there yet.”

From her Food Court exit to the moment she laid across the couch in the team’s locker room, Byulyi mulled over Hyejin’s words. Upon first hearing them in the club forever ago, she focused on the first half, the more optimistic words of support and encouragement.

Now though, as they played on loop in her head, increasing in volume each time, Byulyi was forced to acknowledge that all of Hyejin’s speech might have been correct—including, or maybe especially, the part she avoided until now.

Note: Not sure how I have less time now that I’m home, but I do and I hate that. As a result, this chapter was cut shorter. BUT, what was originally planned for the second half of this chapter will now be included in the next chapter and, funny enough, I think it fits better there than it would have in this chapter. Life works in funny ways sometimes.

I’ve spoken noncommittally about it before, but I’ve been trying to get to the point where multiple updates each week are possible. For one, I don’t want this story to last another year and, for two, this story has grown SO much in the past year. For the first 10 chapters or so, I remember personally messaging everyone that subscribed to this story to thank them for reading, especially when things hadn’t yet picked up. To think the number of people reading this has grown to this point, it’s surreal. I can’t think of a better way to thank you all than by updating more frequently. So, while I can’t say when I’ll get ahead enough to make that happen, I do want you all to know that it is something I have in the back of my mind. Plus, the story’s already outlined/mapped out and I’m very excited to write many of those scenes and want to share that with you all as soon as possible.

Anyway, those were my thoughts. Feel free to share yours (on whatever you want) below. Or not (there may not be much to say this chapter). Either way, thank you for reading!