Namjoo didn’t even get a bite of the food before the girls chose their partners. Togetherness came to an end abruptly. All of them split up. Just like that Namjoo was left alone with a guy she didn’t even know.

His name was Mo Daehan. An engineer student at Yonsei in his second year. Having come out with his friend’s bio club for the blind date for the heck of it he said. So here she was, walking down the road past the mural village. Sunken into silence because she didn’t know what to do or how to talk.

What happened on blind dates?

Namjoo had never even had a boyfriend before.

How did things like this work?

“You look uncomfortable,” Daehan noted, “if I had a sweater, I would lend it to you.”

“Oh…it’s ok. It’s fine,” Namjoo shyly assured.

At least he seemed nice. Supposedly if he was touchy feely, she would have run off. This was a good sign, right? If only there was a guideline she could follow to make this easier.

“There is a park nearby. Do you want to go walk around there for a bit?” Daehan wondered.

“Well…actually,” Namjoo glanced at him, “I had other things I wanted to do.”

“Am I taking up your time?” He sounded sorry.

“No, no,” Namjoo quickly shook her head.

He smiled at her and Namjoo thought for a second it was how an older brother would kindly look upon his little sister. She felt bad for coming out dressed so skimpily. It was so shaming to dress up like a revealing woman when she wasn’t even of age.

They veered off the street into the road. Daehan smoothly moved around her to walk next to the cars. A sudden whistle made Namjoo turn surprised and then Daehan screamed, “Bug off!”

Stepping onto the sidewalk on the other side Namjoo fiddled with her fingers anxiously. She didn’t understand what just happened, but instinct told her it wasn’t something to mull over proudly.

“Jesus,” Daehan muttered underneath his breath. “Some men have brains the size of a pebble.”

Namjoo timidly smiled, grateful. Sadly, she didn’t have an older brother. It would be nice if there was someone to look out for her, but she was just on her own. Unable to rely on the incompetent adults around her.

“Actually…” Namjoo’s voice dropped, “my parents are both having affairs.”

The wind whisked through her hair throughout the sudden silence. Suddenly she wished she shouldn’t have talked. How pathetic she must look. Maybe she was just pitiful. That this was happening again to her.

“I’m sorry,” Daehan apologized.

Laughing cheerily to thwart the sullen atmosphere created by her, Namjoo brushed her hair back. “Sorry, that ruined the mood.”

“It’s nothing you should apologize for,” he empathized. “Sometimes life plays really dirty tricks.”

“Yea…it does.” Namjoo stared at the ground.

“But understand that what they do is on them,” Daehan reminded. “Don’t take it too hard.”

“Yea…”

“Come on,” he started turning around, “you said your backpack is at the art center. You should change before you go home.”

She followed him up the road back toward the college town. Store lights glowed now that it was darkening turning the streets into a colorful walkway. Voices splashed around her. The district still lively and abundant with travelers. Namjoo browsed around amazed at the beautiful view and felt her stomach rumble.

When Daehan looked at her she laughed cheekily receiving a gentle smile in return. If she was a bit older, she thought she could probably fall in love with him.

“You have a dimple,” he pointed to his cheek to show her where hers was. Namjoo touched her face shyly, eyes on him.

“Namjoo!” A voice interrupted her moment. They turned to find a silhouette standing at the center of the intersection. The figure’s cold cutting stance sliced through her before he took long strides toward them. Namjoo seriously grew hot with embarrassment as Jongin’s face became visible under the lights the nearer he got to them. His gaze was hot and stern.

“He your friend?” Daehan asked.

“Oh…well…yea…” Namjoo anxiously glanced at him then at Jongin.

“Do you know what time it is?!” Jongin questioned in a ed voice.

“I was just returning her,” Daehan explained. Smiling at her he said, “It was nice meeting you. You remember the way to the art center?”

Namjoo nodded before watching him leave them with a wave. Lifting her hand up she returned the wave with a grin. Her eyes drift back to Jongin and she lowered her hand anxiously. Taken aback that he had found her.

“What?” she nervously asked.

“Seriously,” he grumbled sliding out of his sweater, “what the hell are you wearing?”

Namjoo gulped, ashamed of her suggestive outfit. “I was going to change.” Her lips dropped open when Jongin slid his arms around her to tie the sweatshirt around her waist. She skid a step forward closer to him. Growing hot neck down she searched around hoping nobody was watching.

“J…Jongin, it’s ok…”

When he straightened allowing her to peek into his face Namjoo saw that his cheeks were flushed with pink. Her heart beat so hard she had to look away. Without saying anything he grabbed her hand pulling her after him. Left to stare at his back Namjoo suddenly thought he looked boyishly masculine. It was so very heart pounding. And attractive.

“W…wait,” she pulled him to a stop and pointed in the opposite direction, “my backpack’s in a locker over here.”

As they turned around so that she was the one doing the pulling all she thought about was how it felt like her heart was about to jump out. How hard it was to breathe in that moment. That Jongin’s hand was so warm. It was like she could be walking on clouds.

⸛⸛⸛⸛⸛

Jongin’s homework lay sprawled on the dining room table. All remained untouched. He paced from the front door to the windows facing the lawn. Constantly peering outside hoping to see Namjoo materialize.

The hours waned, the more urgently he paced. Chewing his thumbnail wondering what the hell Dami was up to. She had constantly avoided Namjoo like she was the plague. Then suddenly today she wanted to befriend her.

The sky turned over to night he became anxious. Launching forward when the metal gate opened and Dami emerged. Jongin took a breath to calm down, appear sane.