Possessive was the only way to describe Shuhua at fifteen.

“Where are you going?”

Soojin rolled her eyes, “Out.” As she closed the gate behind her, she added, “And no, you can’t come.”

The incessant pleas of little Shuhua had been replaced by moody frowns and deadly glares.

“What if—”

“No.”

“But—”

“No.”

Hands tossed high in the air, Shuhua stormed back up the porch steps. The front door rattled on its hinges as it slammed shut.

“Where’s your shadow?” Soojin’s friend asked when they met up at the train station.

“Home.”

“Oh, so I can…” her friend leaned in for a hug.

“Yah!” Shuhua popped out of the crowd, hands whacking away the looming affection while shielding Soojin with her body. “Mine!”

“Soojin, would you—” the boy blushed and the flower in his outstretched hand shook, “—go with me to the Spring Formal?”

Sweaty and dead on her feet from dance practice, Soojin eyed the rose. Several petals were torn and the head was wilted. “No.”

“Wait!” The voice rang out in the empty hall and the boy jogged to catch up. Again he held out the rose, “At least accept this.” He nervously toed the ground, “Please.”

Soojin sighed, “Look, I—”

“She said no.” Shuhua growled, chin on Soojin’s shoulder as she hugged her from behind.

“Stop scaring them.” Soojin ordered as the boy scurried down the hall, rose discarded on the dirty linoleum floor.