Come to Me

"Suzy, I love you, but this is a terrible idea," Sulli says flatly.

She crosses her arms and leans against the basin of the carp fountain, whose never-ending spout of water splashes merrily. It's nearly nine o'clock, after my dance team's first run-through with Joohyuk. The other dancers have left, but four of us—Sulli, Min, Joohyuk, and I—are still in the back courtyard. Overhead, stars speckle the night sky.

"I'm expanding the definition of dance." I spin my bo staff, then raise it fast to block a lazy swing from Joohyuk. "Mulan does it." I'm giddy from our hour of nimble-footed experimenting. Another guy might have have frozen up jumping in the cold, but Joohyuk's rolled with it and we'd lunged at one another like a pair of tigers, brandished our bos, circling, filling in the space between the dancers. And the flow, the current between us, the crackle of energy—

"Not the stick fight. It's awesome. But you two." Sulli points between Joohyuk and me. "Someone has to say it. This is Loveboat. If you break up—"

"We're not dating." I dodge a jab from Joohyuk aimed at my midriff.

"And my pixie cut isn't going out. You guys have a falling out, that's the end of this show we've all worked our asses off for."

"Come on, Jinri." Min the peacemaker tosses an arm around my neck, the other around Sulli's. "It's perfect now, you said so yourself."

"And we're not having a falling out." I spin my staff as fast as I can, making my hair fly with its wind.

Sulli turns on Joohyuk. "What are you going to say when the guys rag on you for dancing with a bunch of girls?"

"Dohyun already did." He spins his bo, drops it. "For six miles up and down the Han River."

"Really?" I lower my staff, dismayed.

"I told him to go find his own dance team if he was so jealous."

I laugh, but Sulli slings her bag onto her shoulder, still frowning. "Bed check time, Suzy."

As Sulli and Min head off, I look up at Joohyuk, still laughing. "This was exactly what the dance needed. Like snapping the last gear into a clock."

Joohyuk spins his bo staff again, and it slips again. "I'll get this," he vows.

I whirl mine in another 360. "You're so competitive."

We start toward the dorms and he tosses the staff and catches it. "I don't want to ruin your show."

"You won't."

His arm sweeps wide and pulls me into the dampest hug in history.

"Ugh, you're soaked!" I shove him off and he grabs my arm and shakes his sweaty hair at me while I shriek, "Joohyuk! Stop!"

The lobby doors open with a soft squeak. Kang steps out, moving from lamplight into the shadows of night. His eyes are downward focused, on the sketchpad in his hands. The wind ruffles the hair falling into his face, his black shirt.

Then his eyes rise to meet mine and I pull free from Joohyuk.

"Kang—"

The sketchbook drops as he turns on his heel.

"Kang, wait!" I call, but he's gone.

"I'm sorry." Joohyuk's staff has stilled. "That was my fault. I'll go get him for you."

My hands shake as I recover Kang's sketchbook and try to uncrush its corner. "No, it's my fault. I should have talked to him sooner."

ʕु-̫͡-ʔुྉ*ᴸᵒᵛᵉᵇᵒᵃᵗ✲ﾟⁱⁿ*。⋆ 서울。⋆ *

"I have good and bad news," Sohee says, as her hairdresser lathers a mountain of shampoo into her dry hair. "Which do you prefer first?"

My own scalp is getting massaged of my cranium, and it feels amazing. Shampoo parlors like this on are another Korean specialty we're cramming in to celebrate the end of classes, and our last night before the Touch Korea Tour.

As for food versus bad news, bad news makes me think of that last still-missing photo. Even with Joohyuk and my girls helping me, no one knows who has it, or it anyone does.

"The good news," I say.

"Your dress is almost ready for your solo. The tailor agreed to take the payment in ad space so it's completely affordable. It's red, like we talked about—you're going to be so -ay."

Maybe my photos are on my mind, but I don't want to be y onstage. Not with all those eyes on me. I wish I could monitor the costume-making myself, but between dance practice and wrapping up classes, all I've been able to do is send internet pictures I liked with Sohee.

"Is it low-cut? How short's the skirt?" I sound like Eomma. But it's not her talking this time, it's me.

"I'll make sure it's not too much. Promise."

"What's the bad news?"

"The National Theater is booked solid. Uncle Gongyoo's trying to get us added onto a matinee performance as the warm-up show, but it's not looking good."

I'm more disappointed than I expected. Three tiers of 1,500 velvet seats—the National Theater would have been the biggest thing I've ever done. The crowning moment for the last dance of Suzy Bae.

"Anything we can do to convince them?"

She shakes her had. "I asked Uncle Gongyoo if we could do a weekday. He said we might be able to get a Monday slot, but it will be just us. No audience, besides Uncle Gongyoo and Aunty Yumi."

I bite my lip. "Do they know I choreographed the dance?" Would they support us if they did?

"I didn't tell them," Sohee says, and we both fall silent.

Our hairdressers rinse our hair with warm water from a handheld showerhead, somehow managing to keep the rest of us dry. As they towel off our hair, I say, "If we did Monday, we could host the whole talent show there. The Dragon would jump at the chance."

"The whole show?" Sohee purses her lips. "No Yonsei talent has ever performed at the Theater."

"Well, maybe they should. Shindong Park's doing a stand-up comedy routine that aired on his local channel. Sulli met a guy that played piano at Carnegie Hall. There are five hundred kids here to mine for talent!" My smile feels tight. Kang should showcase his work. I have his sketchbook, more masterpieces, but many more blank pages. I tried to catch in Hangul and Calligraphy, but now he's the one slipping out ahead of me. He won't speak to me, not even to let me know he passed his final exam yesterday, which I saw them when the Dragon posted our grades. Twenty percent was based on conversation in Hangul, which he must have aced, and which I passed thanks to his tutoring.

We were building a friendship, now I've lost it.

"I'll talk to Jungwoo. And the Theater." Sohee frowns. "We'll need the Dragon's okay. I mean, she should be okay with it, but coming from us..."

"She can't turn it down if it's good for all Yonsei." But I'm worried, too. "Let's cross that bridge when we get there."

We break to thank and tip our hairdressers, then start back toward campus. "You know, you're good at this," I say. "This making-things-happen business."

"You think so?" Sohee tucks her clipboard into her bag.

"Must run in your family." Joohyuk and his bazillion competitions, championships, even his trip to Busan. "You're as happy doing this as trying on dresses. Or getting good deals."

I smile but she doesn't laugh. "My mom or Aunty Yumi, they'd tell me—" quirks. "Nice girls aren't bossy."

Will we ever be free? I hug her a fierce one. "Nice is so over-rated."

ʕु-̫͡-ʔुྉ*ᴸᵒᵛᵉᵇᵒᵃᵗ✲ﾟⁱⁿ*。⋆ 서울。⋆ *

The Touch Korea Tour runs at breakneck speed.

Joohyuk and I share a seat at the back of Bus A, one of eleven luxury buses porting all Yonsei around the peninsula. Our caravan navigates highways raised on long concrete stilts, putting us on eye level with the leafy canopies of treetops. A plume of smoke rises from skylines of neighboring cities, with modern buildings accented by those swallowtail roofs and Korean architecture. The cityscape gives way to farmland, glass-roofed greenhouses. Concrete dikes dam silvery-blue waterways. The mountains are giant scoops of green leaves.

At the Seoraksan National Park, our bus drops us off between the two sky-high cliffs, covered with emerald mosses and cut through by a small river that swirls aquamarine and turquoise. Joohyuk and I race ahead at a mile-eating pace. I can hardly believe it—this otherworldly blue water, my feet dancing-leaping over the rocks and Joohyuk loping beside me—is all real.

"Everything there is to Bae Suzy, lightning round," Joohyuk says. "Answers only. Game?"

A dam's opened for him. We're talking nonstop.

"You have to answer, too," I say.

"Sure. Favorite book?"

"Let's Kill Her and Let's Hunt Her." —winkwonk—

"Harry Potter."

"Oh, I love that one!"

"Favorite food?"

"Ramen."

"Country fried steak. With gravy."

"Seriously? So bad for you."

"No commenting!"

"Right, mianhae."

"Marshallow test—did you make it?"

"What?"

"You know, that test when we were like, five years old. You can eat one now, or wait and get two, which is better?"

"Er, um, I ate the one. You?"

"Eomma got called away for ten minutes. I waited the whole time."

"Show-off."

"Yep. Greatest fear?"

"Getting injured so I can't dance." I frown. "Let's not go there."

ʕु-̫͡-ʔुྉ*ᴸᵒᵛᵉᵇᵒᵃᵗ✲ﾟⁱⁿ*。⋆ 서울。⋆ *

In the night markets, we sample street food, from griddled mochi cakes to shaved snow to fish cake on sticks. Joohyuk makes me try deep-fried stinky tofu. I retaliate with pig tongue. We fold grasshoppers out of bamboo leaves. He buys a miniature grandfather clock for his mom, who collects dollhouses; I buy a stuffed bear for Sihyeon—and at every turn, he finds excuses to touch me, pushing money into my hand, running his palm down my back, around the curve of my waist.

"Tour Buddies, remember?" I swat at him, pretending to scowl. "Just Tour Buddies!"

"Sorry, I forgot again." He hides his hands behind him and smiles sheepishly. He's wearing that canary-yellow shirt I wore home from Club KISS, and even though it still makes him look jaundiced, I can't help wanting to grab those hands back.

ʕु-̫͡-ʔुྉ*ᴸᵒᵛᵉᵇᵒᵃᵗ✲ﾟⁱⁿ*。⋆ 서울。⋆ *

Our buses pass through the Seokguram Grotto on our way to the southernmost tip of Korea, which is shaped like a thumbs-down. Joohyuk's fingers linger on my arm as we walk dirt paths between deep green fields of vegetation to colored water, stand at the junction of seas with no recognition of the human divisions assigned to its ebbs and flows. I taste salt on the wind and we laugh as the enlarged Gang of Four—now the Gang of Five—Dean, Sungwoon, Kangjoon, Garam, and Dohyun—line up with their fingertips together, in prayer before a rock shaped like Nixon's head.

"What are you now?" I ask, as a friend snaps photos. "Which stereotypes are we taking back this time?"

"Five Wise Asian Sages," Dohyun answers without opening his eyes.

"We Asians," Dean intones. "Are so wise."

I feel a warm surge of affection. I'm not the only one taking charge of my identity this summer.

I left my phone camera. "Smile for the Take-Back-the-Trope photo collection!"

Five wise sages bow deeply to me. "Well spoken, our daughter."

ʕु-̫͡-ʔुྉ*ᴸᵒᵛᵉᵇᵒᵃᵗ✲ﾟⁱⁿ*。⋆ 서울。⋆ *

Time for dance practice has grown tight. With tombs and caves and temples to explore, our buses arrive  later at each new five-star hotel, then we search out a space to practice away from the Dragon's eye.

In a basement ballroom of our Kensington Hotel, reflected in a wall-length mirror, Sulli plugs speakers into her phone and the sixteen of us run the whole routine. Subin and Kangjoon, recruited by Sohee, cart in wooden drums as big as themselves.

"Wow, where'd you find those?" I dance my fingertips over the leather drum skin, making them sing.

Subin grins. "The night market sells all."

My dancers form up again, and Subin and Kangjoon rain down whole arm beats that echo off the walls, punctuated by the crack of Joohyuk's and my staves. Locked in battle, Joohyuk and I swing, dodge, feint. He misses a step, then tosses down his bo with a groan and I throw a jump-kick at his stomach and he grabs my foot and makes me hop wildly, fighting for balance, and my dancers beat him with their ribbons, and then he's laughing, and I'm laughing, and we're all laughing.

When we finish the next run, applause rings out. The double doors are crowded with hotel staffs in checkered shirts and a women's tour group from Curope—I hadn't realized we'd gathered an audience.

"Did you come up with that on your own?" asks a honey-blond woman in yoga pants.

Sohee points to me. "She did."

"It's fantastic." Min's eyes shine. "This is what I mean, Suzy. Not everyone can pull something like this together."

I blush. A shutter on the burglar's lantern has cracked. Rays of the sun are escaping. "It's still hard to believe this is happening." Or that it's mine.

Sohee passes around a box of green tea cookies, then I check the hallway for counselors, and the team leaves two by two.

"You ready, Joohyuk?" Subin slides his dolly under his drum.

"Yep.' Joohyuk draws me into a quick hug. When he pulls away, a letter is tucked into my hand, and Sohee is gazing at me over her clipboard, her face speculative.

As he and Subin head out, I gather up a few stray cups from our snack break. Then I grab the last cookie and set out with Sohee.

We are passing a housekeeping cart of blankets and sheets when Jihyo brushes by, her skirt swishing red, green, and yellow about her. She gives me a small smile.

"Annyeonghi jumuseyo." Good night. The she glides ahead, graceful in her own right. For a moment, I want to call after her—tell her we're dancing to "Private 's Letter," her favorite song. The one she introduced me to the night I hit button. But Jihyo has a job, and if she found out what we're up to, she would be obligated to tell the Dragon, just as she did about Seonho.

"Did she see you dancing with us?" Sohee whispers as we hurry up the stairs to the lobby. We're already a few minutes past my curfew.

"No, of course not," I say with more certainty than I feel.

At the elevators, Sohee presses the button. She touches Joohyuk's letter in my hand. "What exactly happened with Rosie?"

I choke on a bite of cookie. "He didn't tell you? They broke up."

"And she accepted it? Just like that?"

I blink. "I assume so. I mean, what else—"

"I have a hard time believing she'd let him go just like that."

I frown. He'd tried before to break up with her. Sohee knows that. But she doesn't know what really happened then. "Why were you so hard on Joohyuk and her?"

"Where even to start?" She purses her lips. "Rosie's a smart girl. She likes science. She headed up the chemistry club at school, and she's in the knitting club, too. Josie worships her. You'd think with her looks and brains and money, she'd be more confident. But even with Joohyuk telling her over and over that she was beautiful, she had surgery to make her eyes bigger. She dropped volunteering at the children's clinic because some guy cracked a joke about it."

"Really?" I understand how she feels. My oen eyelids, like Sohee's, are double eyes with an upper crease and are non-colored. I used to avoid looking in mirror with my Caucasian friends, because my eyes seemed boring and small by comparison. If I'd had the money and the chance to stop Tiffany White from pulling the corners of her eyes at me through elementary school, would I have taken it? Maybe half a year ago. But now, here among beautiful eyes like Sohee's, I wouldn't tarde mine for anything.

"I know, who am I to judge, right?" Sohee says. "But I was fed up with him carrying her around like an invalid. She clung to him like he was her life preserver."

That's because he was. "He worries about her—"

"She's eighteen. Grow up already." She jabs repeatedly at the button. "This is the slowest elevator on the peninsula."

I open my mouth and shut it again. To Sohee, to Joohyuk's whole family, Rosie was the over-possessive girlfriend. Not someone in trouble.

I want them to know the truth. But her secret isn't mine to tell.

"I never imagine Joohyuk joining a dance," Sohee continues. "I haven't heard him laugh like this since we were eleven, when I almost set my aunt's closet on fire."

"What? How?"

"I was checking price tags. In the dark, with a candle. Joohyuk's never let me live it down." I smile at the imagine of Joohyuk and Sohee, like Ace and Annie, making mischief. Then my smile fades. I clutch Joohyuk's letter to my chest. 

"What was Joohyuk like with Rosie?"

"You mean did he buy her presents? Touch her every time he breathed? Walk around he's been crowned king?"

My heart sinks. "Yeah."

"No. She was more like his little sister, you know?"

I choke on a laugh. "No, I don't know."

"She asked me once if he liked boys because he barely kissed her." Sohee's smile fades. "She was always so insecure about him. A month ago, I'd have told her not to worry. He'd never let down someone who depends on him."

I love that about Joohyuk. But I feel a twinge of worry, too—is he letting her down now?

"Hey, where's your bo?" Sohee asks suddenly.

"Oh, no." I swivel toward the stairwell. A few guest are emerging, laughing and talking. My stomach clenches. "I left it in the ballroom."

"We should get it." Sohee wrings her hands, eying the clock. "Or the hotel staff will give it to the Dragon and it has your name on it. They'll tell her we were dancing. She'll put two and two together and we're through."

The elevator dings. On cue, the Dragon emerges, heels clicking a staccato warning. Her dark eyes swing to us.

"Sooji, it's past curfew," she says in Hangul. Sohee curses under her breath. We're too late.

"Suzy, you forgot this." Jihyo appears out of nowhere, skirt swishing. The Dragon frowns, maybe at my American name, but Jihyo just presses a blanket-wrapped bundle into my arms. It's stiff and bulky, like an overflowing coat rack.

"Oh!" It's my bo staff disguised.

"Off the bed. You're late." Jihyo shoves me toward the open elevator before I can speak. Then she takes the Dragon's arm, asking about tomorrow's schedule. The Dragon's gaze strays to the bundle in my arms. Thanking Jihyo with my eyes, I grab Sohee's hand and drag her into the elevator out of  fire-breathing range.

ʕु-̫͡-ʔुྉ*ᴸᵒᵛᵉᵇᵒᵃᵗ✲ﾟⁱⁿ*。⋆ 서울。⋆ *

I fold his letter down and do a Google search: How do you know when you're falling in love?