Dialling her number for the nth time that day, I threw a quick glance at the clock and realized I’ve been trying to call Jihyuk for about half an hour. Nonetheless, I pressed the phone against my ear and waited as the first ring sounded. Followed by the second. And then the third.

On the fourth ring, she finally answered. “Hello?”

“Hey,” I greeted, trying my best to ignore the fact that she was ignoring me for the past few days. “Will you have dinner with me tonight?”

 “I’m not sure,” she mumbled.

“Are you trying to stay away from me?”

She responded with silence. This went on for a few torturous seconds until she finally answered, “No.”

But it was obvious she was. If there was even anything that Jihyuk was not good at, it was lying. She was good with words, good with poetry, good at teaching, and even the best at kissing – in my opinion, that is. But she was bad at hiding. She says she isn’t hungry, then eats my food when I’m not looking. She complains how the movie isn’t interesting, but ends up laughing up until the closing credits.

“I’m going there,” I said finally.

“What?” she exclaimed. “You don’t even know where I am.”

I sighed. “It’s Saturday. You’re at home. Where else would you be? But it’s final. I’m going there.” And I hung up before she could even protest any more.

The bus ride to her house felt like years. When I arrived, I was sure there was something awfully wrong. “What?” Jihyuk asked without a hint of emotion as she, too, looked down at what she was wearing. From my simple, casually-dressed Jihyuk to the Jihyuk wearing shorts and a blouse that still had the price tag attached on the collar, I knew then how powerful words were.

Waving a quick goodbye to Sunmi who was sprawled on the floor with books around her, I took Jihyuk by the hand and we began walking. “Where are we going?” I asked.

 “Why are you asking me?” she responded almost inaudibly.

“You’re the one who always drags me around. You lead and I follow,” I explained, to which she just said nothing.

This awkward silence extended as we walked up until we had reached the park. “What’s the matter?” I asked finally as we sat on the usual bench. “It’s about my brother, isn’t it?” When she didn’t respond, “Please don’t let him affect you,” I said.

“How can I not?” she retorted sadly, her gaze glued to her lap. “He said everything in front of my face and I disappointed him. And I disappointed you too. I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For being just this.”

“Just what?”

She sighed. “Just this. Just wearing the same clothes every time I go out. Just a public school teacher. Just...me.” As always, I didn’t know what to say. “I used to think before that where I come from doesn’t matter. Instead, what’s more important is where I go from there. And then I realized that in our case, where I come from is a big deal.” She raked a hand through her hair in agitation. “I’m sorry. I should’ve thought about that,” and she trailed off just as her voice broke.

And in between the silence, I have realized that the joy was not in finding love. The joy was in loving what I find, no matter what it is, no matter how funny or disgusting or bad it is. Before I could say another word, she had already stood up. “Please tell him I’m trying really hard,” Jihyuk said with a sniffle then walked away. And I knew my not following after her had added fuel to the fire.

 “You know she’s just embarrassed,” Hyukjae explained to me the next day as we were driving around the city. “You remember Eunji?” he turned to me and asked.

Eunji. The name rings a bell. “Your Eunji from high school?”

He nodded. “Did you know the reason why we broke up?” When I shrugged, he continued. “I was a delivery boy back then. And while my friends took their girlfriends out on dates, I couldn’t buy Eunji a simple meal. Hell, I couldn’t even buy food for myself. Then I told her we should just separate because I was embarrassed. Maybe Jihyuk is, too.”

“But I don’t care about that,” I protested. “What does it matter if she doesn’t earn that much?”

He shrugged. “Maybe she thinks if she had just got up and left, it would have been better for you. Or I don’t know.”

As he spoke, I had stared out the window and watched the streets racing past. The vehicle came to a brief halt by a stoplight. “Isn’t that—“ Hyukjae said all of a sudden, his gaze focused on the next street where a famous fast food chain was located. Through the huge glass windows, a manager was face to face with a member of his crew. By the look on both of their faces, I figured it was safe to assume he was screaming at her while all she could do was nod. When he was done, she resumed her work, spraying water on the tables and wiping them with a rag. Jihyuk was trying her hardest, alright.