The next couple of days, hanging out with both Joy and Irene have started to become a thing. And the three of them were also sharing more titbits and stuff on a personal level. I felt like I was in a therapy at times – but in a more laidback, costless way.  “…I think I’m feeling way better than I did before,” Irene started, her legs going back and forth as she swung higher on her swing. “I haven’t done any….you know – that – for quite a bit, or even thought of it.” “Why is that? Joy asked, sitting on the grass beside me, her hands aimlessly pulling on some weeds. Irene barely shrugged, “Maybe I’ve been doing something for myself for the first time…in a while. I’ve been able to think a bit clearer than before.” I thought to myself if I contributed to a part of that. If yes, it’s nice to know because I like feeling useful. It felt like my presence was needed and appreciated; even in a very miniscule way. “Well good for you. As long as you can find a good coping mechanism, then it’s all good. Right, Seulgi?” Joy’s sentence stopped me cold. As long as you can find a good coping mechanism. Was Irene Bae, my new and secret-maybe girlfriend, a part of my coping mechanism? Was I somehow addicted to have a girlfriend? To being loved? Was I desperately needy? And why did I created a whole fake story about Irene to my two other friends? Was I somehow ashamed? I took a deep breath and tried clearing my head at the sudden surge of questions bursting in my brain. Irene had stopped swinging and Joy was staring at me, waiting for my answer. “Seulgi, are you okay?” Irene asked, concerned. “Yes…” I then said to the girl beside me, “And yeah… I agree about the mechanism thing. I hope the two of you find better ways to control your addictions.” “Addictions…” Joy deadpanned, “but you’re not entirely wrong. I have to quit smoking before I get seriously addicted and this girl here needs to sort her life and erase stealing from her vocabulary. And you…” “And me?” “I don’t know. You look like you have it quite easy sometimes.” Joy stretches her hands and lie down on the grass, “Maybe figure your out.”                                       ***   The same night I agreed to follow Wendy and Irene discussing about Comparative Politics as a part of an extensive paper for people who applied at certain Universities. We all sat on the same booth in A Second Chance which also had quickly become a common hangout place. The two droned on, exchanging notes about parliamentary systems while I did some extra sketching. I’ve been brushing a lot on pointillism technique of drawing and even submitted one for my Art Portfolio but this time, the one on my sketchbook somehow looked better than the one I submitted. The muse was none other than the girl sitting across from me in the booth. Wendy whistled when she saw my drawing and I quickly shut the sketchbook, signalling the girl to not bring it up. I grabbed a chip on the table and asked, “Do you think I have it easy, Wendy?” “Huh? Where is this coming from?” Irene gaze up from her notes, one eyebrow slightly rose as she probably knew where my question originated from. I shrugged, “Yeah, I don’t know. Sometimes I feel like maybe…maybe I do have it too easy.” “Seulgi.” Irene stared at me. “Your mom abandoned you and simply left you like that. I don’t care if you don’t care, if you think your life is fine since you have a great step-mother and a house in Dobong Park. You’re still somewhat an abandoned child. Stop thinking you have it easy.” I stood speechless and couldn’t say a thing while Wendy drew her hands to her chest after listening to what Irene had spoken. “Wow…I didn’t know you shared abandoned traumas with her already but…she has a point. Seulgi hasn’t really open up about the abandonment side of her to me for quite some time. I’m glad you two have that kind of an…intimate relationship.” I lightly elbowed the girl beside me and the latter asked, “What? Was I wrong?” “Look,” Irene sorted her notes, “You can just ask if you want to know what’s going on between Seulgi and me.” “Okay, what’s going on between you and Seulgi?” Wendy gazed back and forth between them. Irene looked at me and then at Wendy, “Absolutely nothing.”   - -   When we pulled up to Irene’s house, I got out of the car and accompanied her to her front fence. I gave her a hug and tried to imprint this in my memory, even if I would normally only see her in Art classes at school and sometimes outside, even if she doesn’t live in a neighbourhood near mines, and even though we were absolutely nothing. She hugged me back and whispered, “Good night Miss Wise.” And on the way back in the car, Wendy said, “For the record, she’s totally into you. I don’t care what she said just now.” “No, she’s not.” “I don’t know why she would like a sensitive, vulnerable and – sometimes – cute girl from Dobong Park, but she does. I can tell.” I just let the words sit there. We pulled in front of my house and I thanked Wendy for the ride back. She was trying her best to comfort me to not think too much about what Irene had said but I brushed it off and acted as if everything was cool. But I was certain I was feeling anywhere but cool. I walked into my house full of agitation that Dad had sniffed it right away. “You okay, Princess?” “I’m fine.” “Everything alright?” “Everything is perfect.” “Nothing is perfect Seulgi. Life is messy. Relationships are complex. Outcomes are certain and people are irrational.” “Wow…from which quotes website did you read that?” I didn’t wait for an answer and immediately climbed up the stairs, ignoring my dad’s slight disapproval glare. I wasn’t sure why I was being such a jerk to him other than that my agitation that seems to grow like one of those error tabs that pop out your screen repeatedly as if some virus just attacked it. I couldn’t help but to think that maybe smoking might be the best way to combat whatever I’m feeling. Getting my hands on a pack of cigarettes was easy. The convenient store was just a three minutes’ walk away from my house but I had never bought one – tried one before – yes, thanks to curiosity and peer pressure. Well, ex-girlfriend pressure. But both Krystal and I decided it wasn’t for us so at least for me, I had never tried it out again. But who knows, maybe I can try it out once more and see if it is somehow an okay mechanism for me. My phone buzzed in my pocket. When I saw that it was Irene, that agitation vanished in an instance, replaced by calmness. It’s as if I had actually smoked a non-existent cigarette. Irene: Birthday party next Saturday. My little sister Yeri is turning 8. : Ok. Irene: I want you to come. : Ok. Irene: Ok? : Ok! Irene: Jjajjangmyeon, japchae and a lot of noodle dishes that you might like. And maybe a lot of children. How do you feel about children? : Sometimes awkward but maybe bearable. Irene: They should be okay. They listen to me well. : In that case, I’ll bring some balloons.                                           ***   Wrong as I knew it was, I started to fantasize that after the constant meet-ups, hugs and some pecks exchanging between Irene and I, we would spend our future Saturday nights together doing what other high school seniors do; going to parties, hanging out with friends way more often, maybe drinking a little, smoking too – no, maybe not smoking. I don’t want to be delusional and think that I’m somehow a good influence to Irene. I think she is, to me. But she genuinely seems to be looking better – as in outwardly. I actually have been observing her sometimes, searching if her eyes would betray her and maybe I can see that tiredness creeping in. But she had looked great and pretty determined these days. And every day my mind is just battling for me to come clean and say that – yes, I am really falling for her. And no, it’s not a rebound, nor a coping a mechanism, or a distraction or trying to make ex-girlfriend jealous behaviour. I simply am falling for her and my dad was right: nothing is perfect, life is messy, and relationships are complex. I wasn’t. I couldn’t be the perfect girlfriend – at least to Krystal, who thought I was not interesting enough for her. But I needed to show to Irene that even though I was this super not interesting, sensitive, vulnerable and not perfect girl, I was still good enough.   -   -   During recess, Jongin finally took a break from being handsy with his new girlfriend 24/7 and came by to sit with Wendy and I. “Wow am I seeing right or is there some dude sitting at our table right now?” Wendy spoke aloud before biting on her sandwich while Jongin flicked her forehead as a response. “I’m happy for you,” I congratulated. “Thanks, Seulgi.” Jongin poke a hole on his orange juice carton box, “So where were you last Saturday