It’s been 5 weeks and 2 days since I last saw or heard from Joon Young. No calls, not even a single text or a word of thanks. Well...I don’t care. Really, I don’t! I wasn’t counting the days deliberately or anything, it was subconscious; something my mathematical psyche does...unknowingly. Yes, that’s right, that’s what it is, I couldn’t help thinking as I was tutoring Gun Tae.

“So to solve for x, you antilog both sides of the equation by raising them to the power of 10.” I explained to Gun Tae and he scribbled down the calculations, his pen gliding across the paper. Although he’s missed a few lessons, he was quick to catch up.

“Ok, good. So x equals 10 to the power of 0. Remember, anything to the power of 0 gives you 0.”

“You mean 1?”

“Oh, right. Yes, anything to the power of 0 equals 1.” Focus Eunji, focus. I forced other thoughts out of my head and continued to teach as the hours leisurely ticked by, hardly noticing the emptying library. Yesterday, Gun Tae called to ask if we could meet at the library instead of his house where I’d normally tutor him. Did something happen at home?

“Ok, that’s everything for today. Shoot me a text or an email if you have any questions. We’ll start trigonometry next week.” $40 per lesson, this should take care of that wicked overdue electricity bill. Gun Tae fumbled around in his pockets, pulled out some small notes until his pockets were bare. He laid them onto the table then stared guiltily at the pile.

“Gun Tae ah, I wasn’t planning to charge you, nor for future lessons.” I smiled gently, put the money back into his palm and closed his fingers over it. “I’ll drive you home.”

We were silent as I drove. At a red light, I darted a side glance at Gun Tae whose guilty expression was now accompanied by gloom.

“Gun Tae ah, is there something going on at home?”

He hesitated and then finally said, “Our father visited.” There was no smile, instead his lips curved into a frown and he puckered his eyebrows. ‘Father’, instead of ‘dad’, there was no warmth in the former word, no warmth in the way he said it either.

I stopped the car, just before his house. He thanked me as he unbuckled his seatbelt and got off the car. I slowly drove away, watching him walk towards his house in the rear view mirror. No, not towards it...right passed it.   

***

I stared at the distorted reflection of myself on the stainless steel surface of the kettle, waiting for the water to boil. My black hair was tied into a bun, which was drooping down now, threatening to undo itself, and the round lens prescription glasses sat crookedly on the bridge of my nose. I had on my dad’s hand-me-down top with the baseball team ‘THE SEAGULLS’ printed centrally in large font and to match it all off; banana patterned pyjama pants. Well, I couldn’t care less.

Something was up with Joon Young, and his family – from the argument between Joon Young and his mother at the hospital to what happened yesterday. I was deep in thought as I absentmindedly swirled the noodles inside the polystyrene ramen cup, staring into space. I took a mouthful of noodles, more like starch in strings. Tasteless. Ah, kimchi! I flicked at the electricity bill before I opened the refrigerator, hearing its wicked sneer in my head, chanting overdue overdue mwahaha.

Even the kimchi became tasteless, and just like that, my dinner turned into a cup of mush with a side dish of crunch. Aigoo.

Suddenly the doorbell rang, startling me to my feet. I never have visitors, well except for my mum, and sometimes my dad. I walked over to the door, which lacked a peephole so for safety and security reasons, I keep the chain lock hooked and hide behind the door while I allow an ever so small opening. Then I wait, for a faceless attack with a knife, or for a bullet fired through the opening. Only when there’s none do I allow a peek through the gap. No, I’m not paranoid.

“J-Joon Young?!” Gun Tae stood behind his tall and slender figure, his dark circles more conspicuous than ever and there was a slight yellow purple to his left cheek. At his feet, were two small suitcases.    

“He kicked us out of that place.” Joon Young whispered. ‘He’ as in their father, and ‘that place’ as in what they once called home.