He limped off down the trail. His scuffed boots made little dust clouds. Yong Junhyung, of the wild speculation and hushed rumors, who had maybe killed a man or robbed a bank or sold substances door to door, and I don’t mean vacuums.

Still, he looked sort of pathetic, his metal steed dead by the wayside.

By the time I caught up with him he was nearly to the tree where Snickers was tied. “Come on,” I said. “You might as well hitch. We’re going the same way.”

Junhyung stopped. His hair was matted where the blood has dried. He looked very tired. “Look, I don’t even know you.”

“You know my name.”

“Sixth-period study hall. Two rows up, one seat over. I’m familiar with your head.” He narrowed his eyes. “So how did you know my name?”

“I’ve heard…talk.”

“What kind of talk?”

“You know. You’re the new guy, it’s a small school, people talk.”

“Yeah, well.” It was obvious he didn’t give a damn.

I hesitated. Up close, with the blood, the dirt, the sweat trickling down his temples, he did look more menacing.

“Have you ever been to North Korea?” I asked.

Junhyung closed his eyes. I had the feeling I was wearing him out. He swayed slightly.

I grabbed his arm, and he more or less followed along. His skin was damp and hot, but then it was summer. Besides, my hands were sweating, so it’s hard to know who was responsible.

Snickers looked him over doubtfully. Junhyung leaned against the trunk of the tree. His face was gray.

“This is Snickers,” I said. “He’s old and he’s been known to bite. He doesn’t like men besides me.”

“That’s okay. I don’t like horses,” he said, but he his shoulder anyway. He snorted derisively.

“Here’s the deal,” I said. I turned the left stirrup for him. “Left foot in here, right leg over, I’ll drive. Got it?”

“I have ridden before. My grandfather has a horse. I just like my transportation without teeth.”

Junhyung eased up into the saddle. I stuffed my book in my backpack, handed it to Junhyung, and climbed up behind him.

“Are you sure you’re not going into shock or something?” I asked, taking the reins. “You look sort of…well, like you’re dying, to be blunt.”

“Nothing an aspirin won’t cure.”

I took it at a walk, afraid to jostle him any more than necessary. Holding the reins necessitated the occasional wrist-to-wrist contact. My wrist, his hard, warm wrist. I could smell sweat and tobacco and grass and skin, all mixed in with horse. Sounds awful, I know. It wasn’t.

We fell into a smooth, gentle back-and-forth roll that was Snickers’ doing. My chest grazed Junhyung’s back, my thighs his thighs. Sounds harmless, I know. It wasn’t.

Something was happening, something I didn’t want to think about to hard. I couldn’t say why, but I had the feeling Yoon Doojoon was being retired from active daydream duty.

Doojoon had the resume, he had those gorgeous eyes and built legs. But it was Junhyung who was giving me goose bumps in raging sunshine.

We rode so silently that I half wondered if Junhyung had lapsed into a coma. When we got to the highway, I reined Snickers to a halt. “I live a mile down,” I said. “I could give you lift to the doctor.”

“No doctor,” Junhyung said.

“Why not?”

“No money.”

“I could lend-“

Junhyung hefted himself off the saddle, swinging a leg over Snickers’ neck. He landed with a scowl.

“Where do you live, anyway I wouldn’t mind-“

“I’ll hitch, thanks.”

“You can’t hitch.”

He looked up, squinting against the afternoon glare. “Oh? Why’s that?”

“You’ll end up by the side of the road in a mangled heap. Not unlike your motorcycle.”

“I’m a big boy. I’ll take my chances.”

“You take too many chances,” I said, doing an uncanny impersonation of my mother. I dismounted and grabbed my pack from Junhyung. “Here,” I said. “Let me at least give you cab money.”

“No.”

“A quarter for the phone?”

For the first time, Junhyung smirked. He touched my shoulder. “I’ll be okay, Yoseob.”

I momentarily forgot how to respond, so I kept busy digging through my backpack for some cash. While I did, Junhyung sauntered over to Snickers. He whispered something in his ear, something he must have liked, because normally he won’t let a guy within three feet of his head. He leaned close and kissed him gently on the muzzle, and I felt myself coming to some kind of very important decision.

He caught me looking, and I pulled out a bill. “Here.” I said. “At least take this.”

But by then Junhyung was already heading down the road, thumb outstretched, sizing up the possibilities whizzing past.

I watched as he grew smaller and smaller, until at last a battered red pickup stopped and Junhyung hopped into the cab. It roared off, kicking up dust.

I wondered if he would survive the drive, the day, the year. I hoped so, because I had the insane feeling I was in distinct danger of falling in love. 

Hi guys. :) Thanks for those comments. Sorry for the late update. :)

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