[08] THE LESS I KNOW THE BETTER, tame impala
she said, “it’s not now or never, wait ten years, we’ll be together”
I said, “better late than never, just don’t make me wait forever”

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Just kidding.

The boy did not sleep and dream about the girl. He tried counting sheep, he tried lukewarm almond milk. The result remained: He stayed up the whole night thinking about her.

On the balcony where his lips were once almost blue because of Cristal, where Seungyoon and Seunghoon were once the witnesses of his ugly moment (“I’m not drunk! I have high alcohol tolerance!”), he thought things through.

Why does she never shy away from me? Never hide behind someone’s back to avoid my eyes? Never fend me off even though we’ve been too close? Why does she never this? She never that?

Seunghoon’s grunt after the bagel meeting had been annoying. “She almost acts like I don’t exist.”

“It’s nothing personal,” he had waved Seunghoon off. “Soojung gets awkward like all the time. You’re not special—not a beautiful or unique snowflake.”

Seunghoon had rubbed the bridge of his nose and pretended he did not hear the reference to Fight Club.

“You chill, okay? Soojung doesn’t know you well. She treats people she doesn’t know well like that.”

Seunghoon had looked out the window and wondered aloud, “If she’s so aloof like that, then how did you get close to her?”

He remembered having avoided Seunghoon’s question much like he did his sister’s “How did you make friends with her?”

He also remembered having felt a little off for the rest of that night, and having not been sure as to the reason why.

The wind blew and mussed his hair.

Tonight he felt off, too. Tonight he felt even more off.

Maybe, he sighed, because tonight, he had connected the dots and finally learnt the reason why.

You?

What’s your name?

Right. Song Minho.

Mino.

Hi.

Is it okay if I added you as friend?

Minho—is that cool with you, Minho?

Only if you call me Soojung… Soojung had sounded good then, but now, in the dark of the night he finally saw it, how her request had been so cozy; how, then, they had only met once and talked to each other twice—he had not even known that she had a Korean name—that it was Jung Soojung.

This was her disposition when they accidentally met the first time: an arm crossed against her chest, fingers that sometimes played with her tight skirt. She had looked so close to tears hence ‘Barbie doll in distress,’ but she had not shut off when he barged in on her.

No.

No.

She had stayed, had checked up on him, “You okay? You really okay?” She had studied him and leaned her back against the wall, then they had struck up a conversation, “Please don’t take it the wrong way, I know you’re from Winner…” Wow, he gave himself a mental smack on the head.

All this time he had been so dense; why had the Krystal Jung done all those things? Given him the time of day? Him? Some idol rapper she had not even known the name of? A—a nugu?

The wind blew and mussed his hair again.

‘Taehyun, I need to talk to you in the morning,’ he sent his fellow member a short text message, as he watched the night lighten into a dawn.

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Just kidding.

He did not watch the night. He thought about her, unknowingly, accidentally, until the dawn pretty much cracked.

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“So, what kind of girl problem do you have right now?”

Minho widened his eyes. “How do you know that?!”

Taehyun’s tone was flat. It was clear that the younger boy was getting bored. “Y’all only come to me when y’all have girl problems.”

“This isn’t about me, though. A friend asked me for some advice, but, you know, it’s not like I have plenty impressive experiences.”

Taehyun lightened up, a knowing smile now ghosting over his face. “That’s convincing. I totally buy what you said.”

Minho blushed. “I’m not lying!”

“That’s essentially what I said. I believed you.”

Minho curled his nose but began narrating anyway. “My friend really likes this girl. But she’s kind of weird, you see. I mean, she never treats him the way she treats people she doesn’t really know—coldly, shyly.

“I mean, she used to not really know him, right—when they first met and all. But she’s always been rather pleasant around him. It’s only now that he realized: She should not have been like that.”

Taehyun crossed his arms and raised his eyebrow. “Shouldn’t your friend be thankful she’s not crappy to him? Maybe she’s liked him since forever. Maybe that’s why she treats him differently.”

“No, Taehyun, that’s impossible.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“My friend is her sun, alright. And he’s shadowed by an eclipse.”

Taehyun grimaced, his one fist balling under his chin. “What do you mean? Like, there’s another guy?”

Unfortunately, “Yeah. I have a feeling that it is either her ex-boyfriend or just someone she really likes.”

“Oh. You were right, then. It’s weird that she goes out of her way to make him feel special when, clearly, he’s not.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“Or not so weird, if she’s been using your friend,” Taehyun laughed a little, “all this time as a distraction.”

“A what?”

“A distraction,” Taehyun repeated as if talking to a small child. “Like as a rebound.”

“As a rebound?!”

Taehyun laughed a little again. “I suggest you sort things up with this girl before everything gets so messy.”

“I’ve told you it isn’t me!”

“Sorry, I forgot.” Taehyun said with no remorse and continued, “But if your friend really likes this girl and wants to fight for her… Well, he cannot win a war he doesn’t have a handle on.”

“What did you mean?”

Taehyun smiled a cunning, Slytherin one. “I meant, your friend has to know his competition well.”

“And then?”

“Then after that, he can start concocting a strategy.”

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He contemplated these words carefully: fight for, her, competition, strategy.

He also contemplated these words with just as much amount of regard: use, distraction, rebound, messy.

Why had not he left her when he could? Why had not he turned around and run away—from her—whose fingers fiddled with her tight skirt—whose eyes were crimson like life was so sad?

Oh, right: Because she was pretty and he fell before he could catch himself.

She opened the d