Knock. Knock.

“Ji Eun. Wake up, honey. It’s seven already. Wake up or you’re going to be late. Ji Eun!”

It was mom. She always lie that it’s seven when it’s practically 6:55 a.m.

How I know? Cause it happens all the time.

“Ji Eun!”

I groaned in reply, an indication that I am awake already.

She continued with her persistent knocking.

“Tell your mom to stop,” a shoulder nudged me at the waist.

Ignoring the person, I pulled my blanket to cover my face and turning onto my side, snuggling further into my pillow. Let’s go to dreamland.

“Honey, wake up. Now,” mom’s voice sound muffled from the other side of the door.

“Jie,” a whine filled my ear.

This guy…

“God, for refusing to sleep on the floor and almost pushing me off the bed the whole night, you’re one demanding guy,” I kicked his leg before jumping off the bed, almost tripping on the blanket Jong In had left on the floor as of his refusal to sleep there, and stomped to the door.

I was replied with a snort. (That sounded a pig chocking on its own spit.)

I opened the door to mom’s smile and her fist stopping in mid-air.

“Morning, honey. How was last night?” She kissed me on the forehead.

Well, here’s a thing about being the only child. Your parents will pamper you until the day you die. As an experienced subject in this matter, I’d have to say that sometimes it’s annoying and embarrassing but it can also be nice. Sometimes. Only.

“Morning,” I kissed her cheek and proceeded to close the door to get ready for school.

“Morning, Jong In!” she practically shouted before the door closes onto her.

“She never fails to know you’re here huh?” I said before kicking the person sleeping under the blanket on my bed.

“Yah, wake up. I need to change,” I kicked it hand. A hand came out to slap my feet away.

This guy. Really.

“Jong In, I need to change. Go, now,” I pulled the blanket. Well, tried too. For your information, Kim Jong In, weights more than a ton.

He gave a growl before peeking out of the blanket.

“What time is it?” he blinked.

“It’s time to get ready for school,” I stared back at him before giving another tug at the blanket.

“Stop it. I’ll get up,” he whined. Shoving the blanket off of his face, Jong In proceeded to sit up slowly. I almost laughed when I saw the hair on the back of his head sticking up at a 90 degree angle. There were pillow creases on his left cheek. His bangs were flat against his forehead. He looks funny.

Jong In yawned and stretched.

But he looks adorable also. (Gosh, I sound like his girlfriend. This is embarrassing.)

“I’ll wait for you at the front of your house. Hurry up, k?” He blinked before walking to the door.

“You’re going through the front door?” I stopped folding the blanket that Jong In had left on the floor last night.

He stared at me like I was crazy. No matter how cool he wants to be right now, the situation is awkward and he looks stupid with those sleepy eyes.

Last night. If it was ever possible to turn back time, I would have gladly repeated last night over and over again.

A hundred times.

A thousand times.

Just acknowledging that he kept the promise he made to Min Ji, despite it being a small request, made me happy but confuse at the same time. Question ran through my brain throughout last night until the time I closed my eyes, my hand tightly clutching Jong In’s (who was at that time, sleeping on the floor beside my bed.).

Why is he here? Was he looking for a change? Does he want to change? What does he want to change? Is he expecting something? Is he doing this just out of habit?

Regardless that my logic doubts the situation, my body tells me to trust the guy for tonight that I’ll be safe and sound until morning. In the end, I fell asleep without any acceptable answers or reasons to the questions I asked.

I raised an eyebrow in response to him. As if the small action of my facial muscles had answered his silent question, he closed the door, leaving me in my own dilemma.

In the old days, whenever Jong In comes over for a sleep over, he’ll always come through my window and leave through my window also. Mom and dad never complain anything about him not greeting them. It was mutual respect to each other’s needs and my parents trust him so that he won’t do anything weird and impropriate to me. Not that I’ll reject him if he wants to do anything.

Nah, just joking. (Okay, weird. Sorry. When you’re in love, you’ll be crazy like me.)

His footsteps grew fainter, turning left in the hallway, climbing down the stairs, and his greetings to my parents. I can imagine it.

It can be awkward if you think about it. Kim Jong In, coming to your house after cutting up ties with your daughter who used to be the closest friend he had ever has, like ripping off a sewn two pieces of clothes, it could be awkward. But I have a feeling it wasn’t.

Mom and dad loved Jong In like their own son. They trust him so like he is their own blood and kin. We were that close.

One year, 2 months, 21 days, 7 hours, 2 minutes and 48 seconds. We’ve been ignoring each other (or Jong In has been ignoring me). Nothing was mentioned to my parents or to his, have we kept our lips zipped, as if the troubles we’ve caused around the house when we were five never actually happened. Then again, they knew. (I’m guessing it’s the so called sixth sense that parents have whenever it comes to their children.)

During the early stages, mom always gave me these pity glances whenever she thinks I was not looking. But pity glances sounds bad. It’s more of a like, you’ll-be-okay or everything’s-going-to-work-out-one-day-just-be-patient glances. I could feel the words of comfort she wants to say to me getting stuck in . She resisted because she knows I’ll break down from it.

She’s a caring mother and I love her.

__________________________________________________________________

 

 

“Despite you waking up earlier than me, you’re still late huh?” Jong In raised his eyebrow at me.

Wow. I stared at him.

“I – It’s not – I’m a girl – Breakfast is important okay!” I stuttered before walking past him.

It was shocking to see Jong In really waiting for me outside my house. I thought he was just saying that out of habit.

“Okay,” he answered.

I gave him a side glance. His smirk, I can feel it with the hairs on the back of my neck.

When we reached the junction, Min Ji and Amber were there like usual, waiting for me. The Lee girl stared at Jong In like he’s an angel who fell from heaven.

“No wonder oppa told me to ditch you,” was what she mumbled. I gave her a judging look but she ignored me.

Min Ji and Amber walked in front, the former telling the later about the movie she watched last night, leaving me with Jong In at the back.

The walk to school was void of any conversation for both of us.

When we arrived at the school gates, Jong In asked me something I never thought he would ever mention again.

“I have dance practice today,”

Today’s Friday.

“Wait for me at the gates,” he turned to look at me.

It was not a question. It was a statement. It was an imperative sentence, a command.

I bit my lips to suppress a smile and nodded.