Naeun sat straight up in bed, breathing hard. She looked all around her, disoriented. Harsh morning sunlight streamed in. Finally, she realized she had been dreaming. She wiped the cool sweat from her temples and sat on the edge of her bed.

   Silence. Judging from the light, Tao and her Mom must have already left. She looked at theclock and saw that it was indeed late: 8:15. She’d be late for her second day of school.

Perfect.

She was surprised that Tao hadn’t woken her up. In all their years, he’d never let her oversleep—he’d always wake her if he was leaving first.

He must still be mad about last night.

She glanced at her cell: dead. She had forgot to charge it. It was just as well. She didn’t feel like talking to anyone.

   She threw on some clothes from the floor and ran her hands through her hair. She normallywould just leave without eating, but this morning she felt thirsty. Unusually thirsty. She went to the fridge and grabbed a half gallon of red grapefruit juice. In a sudden frenzy, she tore off the top and gulped it right from the container. She didn’t stop gulping until she’d downed the entire half gallon.

   She looked at the empty container. Had she just drank all of that? In her life, she’d never drank more than a half a glass. She watched herself reach up and crush the cardboard container in a single hand, down to a tiny ball. She couldn’t understand what this newfound strength was that coursed through her veins. It was exciting. And scary.

She was still thirsty. And hungry. But not for food. Her veins screamed for something more, but she couldn’t understand what.

***

   It was strange to see the hallways of her school so empty, the complete opposite of the day before. With class in session, there wasn’t a soul in site. She glanced at her watch: 8:40. There were 15 minutes left to her third class of the day. She wondered whether it was worth it to even go at all, but then again, she didn’t know where else to go. So she followed the hallway numbers towards the room.

She stopped outside the classroom door, and could hear the teacher’s voice. She hesitated. She hated to interrupt, to be so conspicuous. But she didn’t see what other choice she had.

She took a deep breath and turned the metal knob. She entered, and the entire class stopped and looked up at her. Including the teacher.

Silence.

“Ms….” the teacher, forgetting her name, walked to her desk and picked up a piece of paper,

scanning it, “….Naeun. The new girl. You are 25 minutes late.”

A stern, older woman, the teacher glared down at Naeun.

“What do you have to say for yourself?”

Naeun hesitated.

“Sorry?”

“That’s not good enough. It may be acceptable to be late to class wherever you are from, but it’s certainly not acceptable here.”

“Unacceptable,” Naeun said, and immediately regretted it.

An awkward silence covered the room.

“Excuse me?” the teacher asked, slowly.

“You said ‘not acceptable.’ You meant ‘unacceptable.’”

“OH—!” exclaimed a noisy boy from the back of the room, and the entire class erupted into laughter.

The teacher’s face turned bright red.

“You little brat. Report to the Principal’s office right now!”

The teacher marched over and opened the door beside naeun. She stood inches away, close enough so that naeun could smell her cheap perfume. “Out of my classroom!”

   Normally naeun would have slinked quietly out of the room—in fact, she would have nevercorrected a teacher to begin with. But something had shifted within her, something she didn’t entirely understand, and she felt a defiance rising. She didn’t feel that she had to show respect to anyone. And she no longer felt afraid.

  Instead, naeun stood where she was, ignoring the teacher, and slowly scanned the classroom,looking for luhan. The room was packed, and she looked row to row. No sign of him.

“Ms. Naeun! Did you not hear what I said!?”

Naeun looked defiantly back. Then she turned and slowly walked out of the room.

She could feel the door slam behind her, and then heard the muffled clamor in the room, followed by, “Quiet down, class!”

***

   The final bell of the school day rang, and naeun stood before her assigned locker. She looked down at the combination printed in the piece of paper in her hand, turned the knob and pulled. It didn’t work. She looked down and tried the combination again. This time, it opened.

   She stared at the empty, metal locker. The inside door was lined with graffiti. Otherwise, it was completely bare. Depressing. She thought of all her other schools, of how she would rush to find her locker, to open it, to memorize the combination, and to line the door with pictures of boys from magazines. It was her way of gaining a little bit of control, of making herself at home, of finding her one spot in the school, of making something familiar.

But somewhere along the line, a few schools ago, she became less enthusiastic. She began to wonder what the point was in even bothering, since it was only a matter of time until she had to move again. She became slower and slower to decorate her locker.

This time, she wouldn’t even bother. She closed the door with a bang.

“naeun?”

She jumped.

Standing there, a foot away, stood Luhan. He wore large sunglasses. She could see that the skin beneath them was swollen.

   She was shocked to see him standing there. And thrilled. In fact, she was surprised at howthrilled she was. A warm, nervous feeling centered in her stomach. She felt go dry.

   There was so much she wanted to ask him: if he got home OK, if he saw those bullies again, if he saw her there…. But somehow, the words couldn’t get themselves from her brain to .

“Hey,” was all she managed to say.

He stood there, staring. He looked unsure how to begin.

“I missed you in class today,” she said, and immediately regretted her choice of words.

Stupid. You should have said, “I didn’t see you in class.” “Miss” sounds desperate.

“I came in late,” he said.

“Me, too,” she said.

He shifted, looking uncomfortable. She noticed his viola was not at his side. So it was real. It wasn’t all just a bad dream.

“Are you OK?” she asked.

She gestured at his glasses.

He reached up and slowly took them off. His face was purple and swollen. There were cuts and bandages on his forehead and beside his eye.

“I’ve been better,” he said. He seemed embarrassed.

“Oh my god,” she said, feeling terrible at the sight. She knew she should at least feel good about having helped him, about sparing him more damage. But instead she felt bad for not being there sooner, for not coming back for him. But after…it had happened, it had all been a blur. She couldn’t really remember how she’d even gotten home. “I’m so sorry.”

“Did you hear how it happened?” he asked.

   He looked at her intently, with his bright green eyes, and she felt he was testing her. As if he was trying to get her to admit that she was there. Had he seen her? He couldn’t have. He was out cold. Or was he? Did he maybe see what happened afterwards? Should she admit that she had been there?

   On the one hand, she was dying to tell him how she had helped him, to win his approval, and his gratitude. On the other, there was no way she could explain what she did without seeming like either a liar or some kind of freak.

No, she concluded internally. You can’t tell him. You can’t.

“No,” she lied. “I don’t really know anyone here, remember?”

He paused.

“I got jumped,” he said. “Walking home from school.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said again. She sounded like an idiot, repeating the same stupid phrase, but she didn’t want to say anything that would give too much away.

“Yeah, my Dad’s pretty pissed,” he continued. “They got my viola.”

“That ,” she said. “Will he get you a new one?”

Luhan shook his head slowly. “He said no. He can’t afford it. And that I should have been more careful with it.”

Concern crossed naeun’s face. “But I thought you said that was your ticket out?”

He shrugged.

“What will you do?” she asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe the cops will find it,” she said. She remembered, of course, that it was broken, but she thought that by saying this, it would help prove to him that she didn’t know.

He looked her over carefully, as if trying to judge if she were lying.

Finally, he said, “They smashed it.” He paused. “Some people just feel the need to destroy other peoples’ stuff, I guess.”

“Oh my god,” she said, trying her best not to reveal anything, “that’s horrible.”

“My Dad’s pissed at me that I didn’t fight back….But that’s not who I am.”

“What jerks. Maybe the cops will catch them,” she said.

A small grin passed luhan’s face. “That’s the weird thing. They already got theirs.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, trying to sound convincing.

“I found these guys down the alley, right after. They were beat down worse than me. Not even moving.” His grin widened. “Someone got to them. I guess there is a God.”

“That’s so strange,” she said.

“Maybe I have a guardian angel,” he said, looking her over closely.

“Maybe,” she answered.

He stared at her for a long time, as if waiting for her to volunteer something, to hint at something. But she didn’t.

“And there was something even stranger than all that,” he said, finally. He reached down and pulled something out of his backpack, and held it out. “I found this.”

She stared down in shock. It was her journal.

She felt her cheeks redden as she took it, both delighted to have it back and horrified that he had this piece of evidence that she was there. He must know for sure now that she was lying.

“It has your name in it. It is yours, right?”

She nodded, surveying it. It was all there. She had forgotten about it.

“There were some loose pages. I gathered them all up and put them back in. I hope I got them all,” he said.

“You did,” she said softly, touched, embarrassed.

“I followed the trail of pages, and the funny thing is….they lead me down the alley.”

She continued to look down at the book, refusing to make eye contact.

“How do you suppose your journal got there?” he asked.

She looked him in the eye, doing her best to keep a straight face.

“I was walking home last night, and I lost it somewhere. Maybe they found it.”

He studied her.

Finally, he said, “Maybe.”

They stood there, in silence.

“The weirdest thing of all,” he continued, “is that, before I went completely unconscious, I could have sworn I saw you there, standing over me, yelling at those guys to leave me alone….Isn’t that crazy?”

He studied her, and she looked him back, straight in the eye.

“I’d have to be pretty crazy to do a thing like that,” she said. Despite herself, a small smile started at the corner of .

He paused, then broke into a wide grin.

“Yes,” he answered, “you would.”

***

Naeun was on cloud nine as she walked home from school, clutching her journal. She hadn’t been this happy in she didn’t know when. Luhan’s words replayed in her head.

“There’s this concert tonight. At Seoul Art  Hall. I’ve got two free tickets. They’re the worst seats in the house, but

the vocalist is supposed to be amazing.”

“Are you asking me out?” she’d said, smiling.

He’d smiled back.

“If you don’t mind going with this lump of bruises,” he’d said, smiling back. “After all, it is Friday night.”

   She practically skipped home, unable to contain her excitement. She didn’t know anything aboutclassical music—she’d never even really listened to it before—but she didn’t care. She’d goanywhere with him.

  Seoul Art Hall. He said the dress was fancy. What would she wear? She checked her watch. Shewouldn’t have much time to change if she was going to meet him at that café before the concert.She doubled her pace.

   Before she knew it, she was home, and even the dreariness of her building didn’t bring herdown. She bounded up the five flights of stairs and hardly even felt it as she walked into her new apartment.

Her Mom’s scream came right away: “You ing !”

   Naeun ducked just in time, as her Mom threw a book right at her face. It went flying past her, and smashed into the wall. Before naeun could speak, her Mom charged—fingernails out, aiming right for her face. Naeun reached up and caught her wrists just in time. She tangled with her, going back and forth. Naeun could feel her newfound power surging through her veins, and she felt that she could throw her Mom across the room without even trying. But she willed herself to control it, and she shoved her off, but only hard enough to send her onto the couch.

Her Mom, on the couch, suddenly broke into tears. She sat there, sobbing.

“It’s your fault!” she screamed between her sobs.

“What’s wrong with you?” naeun screamed back, completely off guard, having no idea what was going on. Even for her Mom, this was crazy behavior.

“Tao.”

Her Mom held out a piece of notebook paper. Naeun’s heart pounded as she took it, a feeling of dread washing over her. Whatever it was, sheknew it couldn’t be good.

“He’s gone!”

Naeun scanned the handwritten note. She couldn’t really concentrate as she read, only picking out fragments—running away…don’t want to be here…back with my friends…don’t try to find me. Her hands were shaking. Tao had done it. He’d really left. And he didn’t even wait for her. Didn’t even wait to say goodbye.

“It’s because of you!” her Mom spat.

   A part of naeun couldn’t believe it. She ran through the apartment, opened tao’s door, half expecting to find him there.But the room was empty. Immaculate. Not a single thing left. Tao had never kept his room that clean. It was true. He was really gone.

Naeun felt the bile rise up in . She couldn’t help feeling that this time her Mom was right, that it was her fault. tao had asked her. And she had said, “Just go.”

   Just go. Why did she have to say that? She planned on apologizing, on taking it back, the next morning, but he was already gone when she woke up. She was going to talk to him when she got home today. But now it was too late.

   She knew where he must have gone. There’s only one place he would go: their last town. He’d be OK. Better, probably, than he was here. He had friends there. The more it sank in, the less she worried. In fact, she was happy for him. He’d finally made it out. And she knew how to track him down.

   But she’d have to deal with this later. She glanced at her watch and realized she was late. She ran into her room, quickly grabbed the nicest clothes and shoes she’d had, and threw them all in a gym bag. She’d have to go without makeup. There just wasn’t time.

“Why do you have to destroy everything you touch!?” her Mom screamed, now right behind her. “I never should have taken you in!”

Naeun stared back, shocked.

“What are you talking about!?”

“That’s right,” her Mom continued. “I took you in. You’re not mine. You never were. You were his. You’re not my real daughter. Do you hear me!? I’d be ashamed to have you as a daughter!” naeun could see the venom in her black eyes. She’d never seen her Mom in this deep of a rage.

Her eyes held murder.

“Why did you have to chase away the one thing that was good in my life!?” her Mom yelled.

   This time her Mom charged her with two hands held out in front, and went right for . Before naeun could react, she was being choked. Hard. Naeun fought for breath. But her Mom ‘s grip was iron. It was truly meant to kill. The rage flooded naeun, and this time she couldn’t stop it. She could feel the familiar, prickly heat, starting at her toes, and working its way up through her arms and shoulders. She let it envelop her. As it did, the muscles in her neck bulged. Without doing a thing, her Mom’s grip loosened.

   Her Mom must have seen the transformation begin, because she suddenly looked afraid. Naeun threw her head back and roared. She had transformed into a thing of fear. Her Mom dropped her grip, and took a step back and stared, mouth open.

   Naeun reached up with one hand and shoved her, and she went flying backwards with such force that she went through the wall, shattering it with a crash, and into the other room. She kept going, smashing into yet another wall, and collapsing, unconscious.

   Naeun breathed hard, trying to focus. She surveyed the apartment, asking herself if there was anything she wanted to take with her. She knew there was, but she couldn’t think clearly. She grabbed her gym bag of clothes, and walked out of her room, through the rubble, past her mother.

Her Mom lay there, groaning, already starting to sit up.

Naeun kept walking, right out of the apartment.

It was the last time, she vowed, she would see it again.

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