"You're tired," Hobi bellowed. "You told her you were tired and you wanted to go to sleep?"

"Something like that."

"Are you insane?"

Hobi stared at me across the table. Jennie and Rosé had long since headed up the pier to talk, no doubt dissecting everything I said to Rosé, adding unnecessary drama to situation that probably should have remained private. With Rosé, though, there was always drama. I had the sudden sense that the summer was going to be a long one.

"I am tired," I said. "Aren't you?"

"Maybe you didn't hear what she was suggesting. Me and Jennie, you and Rosé? Her parent's place at the beach?"

"She mentioned it."

"And we're still here because . . . ?"

"I already told you."

Hobi shook his head. "No . . . see, that's where you lose me. You use the 'I'm tired' excuse on your parents when they want you to wash the car, or when they tell you to get up so you can make it to church. Not when it comes to an opportunity like this."

I said nothing. Though Hobi was  only a year younger, he often acted as if he were my older and wiser brother.

Except that night at the church . . .

"See that guy over there at the basketball booth? Now him, I get it. He stands there all day trying to get people go plat the game so he can earn a little money and buy himself some beer and cigarettes at the end of his shift. Simple. Uncomplicated.  Not my kind of life, but one I can understand. But you, I don't get. I mean . . . did you see Rosé tonight? She's gorgeous."

"And?"

"My point is, she's hot."

"I know. We were together for a couple of years, remember?"

"And I'm not saying you have to get back together with her. All I'm suggesting is that the four of us head over to her place, have some fun, and see what happens."

Hobi leaned back in his seat. "And by the way? I still don't understand why you broke up with her in the first place. It's obvious she's still into you, and you two always seemed perfect together."

I shook my head. "We weren't perfect together."

"You've said that before, but what does that mean? Is she, like . . . psycho or something when you two are alone? What happened? Did you find her standing over you with a butcher knife, or did she howl at the moon when you went to the beach?"

"No, nothing like that. It just didn't work out, that's all."

"It just didn't work out," Hobi repeated. "Can you even hear yourself?"

When I showed no signs of relenting, Hobi leaned across the table. "C'mon, man. Do this for me, then. Live a little. It's summer vacation. Take one for the team."

"Now you sound desperate."

"I am desperate. Unless you agree to go with Rosé tonight, Jennie won't go with me. And we're talking about a girl who's ready to 'Romance the Stone.'"

"I'm sorry. But I can't help you."

"Fine. Ruin my life. Who cares, right?"

"You'll survive," I paused. "You hungry?"

"A little," Hobi grumbled.

"C'mon. Let's get some cheeseburgers."

I got up from the table, but Hobi continued to pout. "You need to practice digging," he said, referring to the earlier volleyball games. "You were sending the ball in every direction. It was all I could do to keep us in the games."

"Rosé told me I was as good as you are."

Hobi snorted and pushed up from the table. "She doesn't know what she's talking about."

After standing in the line for our food. Me and Hobi moved to the condiment stand, where Hobi drenched his burger in ketchup. It squeezed out the sides as Hobi put the bun back on.

"That's disgusting," I commented.

"So get this. There was this guy named Ray Kroc and he started this company called McDonald's. Ever heard of it? Anyway, on his original hamburger—in many ways the original American hamburger, mind you—he insisted that ketchup be added. Which should tell you how important it is to the overall taste."

"Keep talking. You're just so fascinating. Im going to get something to drink."

"Get me some bottled water, will you?"

As I walked off, something white flashed by me, heading in Hobi's direction; Hobi saw it, too, and instinctively lunged out of the way, dropping his cheeseburger in the process. 

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Hobi demanded, spinning around. On the ground lay a wadded-up box of French fries. Behind him, Vernon and Wonwoo had their hands stuffed in their pockets. Minggyu was standing between them, trying and failing to appear innocent.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Minggyu answered.

"This!" Hobi snarled, kicking the box at them. 

It was the tone, I would later think, that made everyone around us tense. I felt the hair on my neck prickle at the palpable, almost physical dislocation of air and space, a tremor that promised violence 

Violence that Minggyu obviously wanted . . .

I saw a father scoop up on his son and move away, while Rosé and Jennie, back from the pier, froze on the outskirts. Off to the side, I recognized Mijoo circling closer.

Hobi glared at them, his haw clenching. "You know, I'm getting sick and tired of your crap."

"Whatcha gonna do?" Minggyu smirked. "Shoot a bottle rocket at me?"

That was all it took. As Hobi took a sudden step forward, I pushed my way frantically through the crowd, trying to reach my friend in time.

Minggyu didn't move. Not good. I knew he and his friends were capable of anythin