Chapter 1

You Can’t Make Someone Love You

Wonyoung knew, before she had been staring at the girl several moments, that this year would be different. There were no religious signs or any spiritual intervention which led her to think that, more so she felt inspired looking at the girl who laid silently beautiful in the bed adjacent to hers. In regard to what would be different, that she did not know but she was eager to find out – perhaps it would change her life academically or even her relationship with her friends (a stranger could easily guess what Wonyoung really wanted in her life to change). She knew she could not control this despite her efforts; all she could do was hope that this change would help her.

Traditionally, students would be dreading today. The imminent nightmare of early mornings and late nights propounded by the constant pressure from both your family and your peers. But for some unknown reason, Wonyoung was happy. She rose from her bed with the sunlight drifting in through the curtains. Stepping over the stray bottle on the floor, she entered the en suite and a gentle pitter-patter echoed into the bedroom.

Then silence.

After a few minutes of: cluttering, muttering and humming, Wonyoung exited the bathroom with a quiet shut of the door to ensure she wouldn’t raise the other from her slumber. However, the wandering stream of light from the washroom had hit the girl and the blanket began to move – Wonyoung’s day had finally began.

The dowsabel stretched like a new born baby and yawned. She blinked once, then twice, and then once again. Wonyoung noticed this from the corner of her eye and instinctively, she felt her lips pull upwards.

“Morning!” Wonyoung said in an unusually uplifting tone. The girl gave a short wave (more of a sign to tell Wonyoung to be quiet) before entering the bathroom in which she had perfunctorily washed. And again, the droning of the shower resumed. Although to Wonyoung’s ears, it felt calming. Their friends had mentioned that the sound of her showering was cute but Wonyoung felt it was almost as if listening betrayed her.

The sky was a melancholic grey as the two schoolgirls exited their apartment building. They chatted as they walked along the everyday road: the cream houses ran down the path and the food market roared. And made their way toward the café where they were supposed to be meeting the others.

Like any other normal day, they also saw the familiar couple who always sat on the park bench talking as if they were telling each other the same story each day.