Patting his head became a habit. A habit I didn’t want to get rid of.

His hair was always so fluffy.

A few weeks later, the first thing I always did in the morning when I got to school was to join Sungmin, say hi to him and pat his head. He started smiling more and more, like he was actually remembering how to smile often after a long time not being able to. And when my large hand was on his head, he always closed his eyes, just enjoying and probably feeling safe having a big friend to protect him.

I did have to protect him pretty often actually.

One day, we were in the restrooms when a gang entered and tried to bully him as he was finishing washing his hands. He had looked at me, not wanting me to do anything at first, and he had tried making them leave. When he had seen they were clearly not planning to leave us alone, one look from him had be enough for me to approach the gang and lift two guys by the back of their shirt. I had used a very calm voice to tell them to leave. So calm it had been scarier than an angry voice.

They had left and never tried to bully Sungmin again.

But there were other people sometimes trying to hurt him, physically or psychologically. He was often called a cursed one and a few people threw things at him, food or objects. I had taken the habit to stop everything so he could live peacefully. He didn’t deserve being insulted. He didn’t deserve being thrown things at. He deserved a happy life more than anyone else.

Because Sungmin, despite being poor, was always nice to other poor people. Whenever someone clearly poorer than him asked him for money, he would always give them what they needed, as long as he had it. He didn’t mind not eating a lot for lunch, as long as he could make someone happy. I had tried giving the money once, but the person wouldn’t accept it; Sungmin was poor people’s confident and trustful help.

“Do they know you’re quite poor yourself?” I asked him someday while we were going to class.

He chuckled and shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe they do, maybe they don’t. What matters is that I can help them buy loose leaves when they don’t have any left, or even just that I can make them happy when they didn’t have enough money home to buy dessert, and they are still a bit hungry.”

“Still, it’s not like you’re the richest guy around… maybe I could just give you money and you could give it to them?”

He frowned, looking at me. “Wait, are you saying I’m so pitiful I could use some financial help?”

“No, of course not, but-”

“Then don’t mention that anymore.”

Yeah, he was still cold to me sometimes, especially when I tried helping him with things he didn’t need help for. That included everything that had to do with money, food, games, movies, etc. When I tried helping him, he would always ask me if he looked so pitiful that I would say that, and every time I was a bit forced to say he wasn’t. Because, really, he didn’t look poor. Except that he was pretty thin and often tired, there was nothing that could tell people he was actually struggling most of the time to eat correctly and have time to sleep. Even his grades weren’t showing anything.

“I’m sorry, I was just trying to help…” I mumbled, still not used to that kind of reaction.

“C’mon Kangin, you know I’m too proud to let anyone help me with that,” he let out softly, trying to cheer me up. “I don’t want to depend on anyone. Plus, it’s not like I could let my crush pay everything for me you know. It wouldn’t be very manly to just let you do everything for me.”

You don’t need to be manly, I thought. He was cute, and cute, and very cute, and he didn’t need to be manly, because he was cute. I sighed. “Okay, okay, I got it. But still, it’s hard for me to know you’re struggling…”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I guess.”

We sat in front of the classroom and waited. After a moment, I remembered something. “Sungmin?”

“Yeah?”

“This weekend, my parents are going to Old Montreal. Sleeping there at the hotel to stay another day, and visiting the shops and restaurants and historical buildings. They asked me if I wanted to go too.”

“Okay. So what?”

“So, they asked me if I wanted to have a friend with me for the weekend so I could walk in Old Montreal with someone and without being stuck with them all the time.”

“And?”

“Well, I thought that maybe you’d like to come? But then, maybe you have work…”

“I don’t work during weekends. The shop is closed.”

“Then, maybe you’d like to come?”

“I don’t have money to spend on this.”

“I never said you’d have to spend anything.”

“I’m not letting you pay for me.”

“Oh come on! I know you want to be independent and stuff, but you don’t need to refuse everything people try to do for you? One weekend, okay? It’s not like it’s a lot. Think about it, instead of a weekend full of homework, it’ll be a weekend full of fun. If you won’t do it for yourself, then do it for me. If you don’t come, either I’ll be alone at home or I’ll be alone in Old Montreal, or even stuck there with my parents.”

He stayed silent for a minute before he sighed. “Then… I have a condition. I’ll come if you agree.”

“Sure. What is it?”

“Don’t laugh, okay? And promise me you won’t stop being my friend because of this.”

“Sure, I promise, though I don’t see why I would stop being your friend…”

“Well, I, um… I’ll come if… if we can sleep in the same bed. At the hotel.”

I stayed silent for a minute. I knew why he was saying this. He knew I understood, and this was why he had turned completely red in a matter of seconds. I smiled and patted his head softly. “Sure. You’ll come too then?”

“If we sleep in the same bed… yes.”

“Then it’s settled. We’ll come to pick you at nine, on Saturday. We can sleep in the car if we’re still tired anyway, my father will be driving. You’ll need clothes and a toothbrush. And personal stuff, if you need any. We’ll bring the rest. Okay?”

He smiled softly and closed his eyes, enjoying the reassuring contact of my hand on his head. “Okay.”