Junhyung arrived at my house at exactly seven-thirty the next morning. I ran out of the house to meet him, but to my surprise, he parked the Mustang by the curb, got out and walked up the driveway.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“To school,” he answered. He strolled over to my car and opened its passenger door. “But I’m not driving. You are.”

“Me! I can’t drive! My-my car needs gas,” I lied.

“I’ll buy it some,” Junhyung said firmly.

He had trapped me. I had no choice but to get behind the wheel. He was infuriating, and I told him exactly what I thought of him.

“Yong Junhyung, you-you are a conniving worm! You tricked me! You’re sneaky and underhanded and rude and conceited and overbearing and-and I hate you!

“Are you finished yet?” Junhyung asked mildly.

I wilted. “I guess so,” I mumbled.

“Then why don’t we get going?”

His voice was perfectly calm, and suddenly I felt ashamed of my outburst. All my anger melted away, leaving a hard, cold lump of fear in my stomach.

“Junhyung, you don’t understand,” I whispered. “I-“

He touched my shoulder gently. “I understand a lot more than you think I do. You know you’re going to have to drive again sometime. The longer you put it off, the harder it’ll be.”

He was right. I couldn’t stall any longer. I dug my keys out of my purse, got into the car, took a deep breath, and started the engine.

The drive to school seemed to take about a year, though in reality it was only about fifteen minutes. When I parked my car in the lot, I wiped my sweaty palms on my lap and breathed a long, shaky sigh of relief.

“I guess it must seem pretty stupid to you. Being afraid to drive, I mean.” I said, staring down at my clammy hands. Four weeks ago I wouldn’t have cared what Junhyung thought of me, but now it was important-terribly important.

“No, I don’t think it’s stupid at all,” Junhyung answered. “I think it’s perfectly natural.”

I wasn’t shaking anymore. In fact, I was feeling pretty good.

I thought about Junhyung as he walked me to my homeroom. I’d figured he was just a conceited jerk but sometimes he acted almost human. No, more than human, maybe even nice. Very nice. Had he really changed that much in just four weeks? Or was I the one who had changed?

A week later, I got a long-distance telephone call from Daniel, one of my best friends from my old school, Seoul National High School. He spent a few minutes catching me up on the latest Seoul gossip, and then came to the reason he’d called.

“Yoseob, have you checked your football schedule for this week?”

“No,” I answered, wondering why Daniel would be interested in Jeju’s football schedule. “Why do you ask?”

“Because you’re playing us! I mean, we’re playing you! Seoul is playing Jeju!”

“That’s great, Daniel! Where?”

“At Jeju. That’s why I called. I need to get the directions, and I wanted to make sure you’d be at the game.”

“Oh, I go to all the football games,” I told him airily. “I have a boyfriend on the team.” It’s not exactly a lie, I told myself. I do have a boyfriend on the team, at least for one more week.

Daniel was impressed. “Already? Hey, you must work fast!”

“You wouldn’t believe how fast,” I said.

“Speaking of boyfriends,” Daniel went on. “Jinwoon is starting at striker this year.”

“I’m so thrilled for him,” I said without enthusiasm. “Is he still dating Taemin?”

“Oh, of course. He’s head dancer this year, and the two of them sashay around school as if they own the place.”

“They deserve each other. The bonehead and the airhead. Oh, Daniel, aren’t we terrible?” I giggled.

“Are we ever! And isn’t it fun?”

We spent the next ten minutes destroying Jinwoon’s character, and then I gave Daniel the directions to Jeju National High School. I promised him that I would look for him at the game. Then we hung up.

An evil, wonderful thought began to form in my mind. Jinwoon would be starting at striker Friday night, and Junhyung was a midfielder.

“Jinwoon,” I said, “meet Junhyung. Junhyung, Jinwoon.”