GBH 101

“How do kids date these days?” Song Yi-heon’s question was loaded and based on many assumptions. 

Sensing the unusual intent behind the question, Yeon-ji’s ears perked up. Unaware that the high school girl, deeply interested in romance, had activated her amateur love radar, Song Yi-heon recalled what had happened at the basketball court last night.

He wanted to be special to Choi Se-kyung and didn’t want to leave Se-kyung’s precious confession hanging. He also wanted to strongly deny it when that guy said he didn’t like him. Though unsure exactly what he wanted to do with Se-kyung, he knew he couldn’t push him away last night.

“Does k-kissing mean you’re dating?”

Even as he said it, Song Yi-heon gripped his school uniform pants, because no matter how he thought about it, it wasn’t really dating. 

He couldn’t just gobble up that young and supple thing. Just imagining it made him feel like a lecherous old man in the back room preying on an innocent child, leaving Song Yi-heon dizzy.

But Yeon-ji, unaware of Song Yi-heon’s circumstances, was blunt. Her eyes, which usually became half-dazed during math class, now sparkled like stars.

“Did you do it?”

“…”

“You did, didn’t you? Who is it? Someone from our class?”

Reading affirmation in his silence, Yeon-ji fired questions like a machine gun. 

When Song Yi-heon gulped down his sikhye as if his throat was on fire, her suspicion solidified into certainty.

“It is someone from our class! Right?”

“Hey, keep it down. People are staring.”

Though people around were actually busy enjoying the festival, Song Yi-heon, his heart racing since yesterday’s kiss, hushed Yeon-ji, fearing someone might overhear.

“And I’m not going to date them. We just happened to rub our lips a bit, and I’m curious what they think about it.”

“Why not date?”

Again, Song Yi-heon just sucked on his straw, but the end was blocked by rice grains, preventing even air from passing through. As his frustration built up, Yeon-ji showed no mercy. In her determined logic, no romance was impossible.

“Is it because of the college entrance exam? Ask them to wait until after the exam. It’s only two months away anyway. You said it’s someone from our class. They’ll be taking the exam too. Date after the exam.”

“Stop saying we should date!”

“Then you’re not going to date? Don’t you love them?”

“L-love? What nonsense! How embarrassing!”

Song Yi-heon convulsed like someone who had been electrocuted at the word “love.” He felt like he’d rather have his head cut off than date a kid, but when love was directly mentioned, he felt like he was really being dragged off to be beheaded. 

And Yeon-ji, though deeply interested in love stories but inexperienced and naive, pressed on in a Spartan manner.

“You kissed, right? If you’re not going to date, go tell them it was a mistake!”

“Are you crazy? It wasn’t a mistake!”

“There’s your answer. Go ask them out. If you ask, they’ll probably say yes. Tell me who it is. I’ll help you. You kissed because you love them, right? If you didn’t want to, you would have at least avoided it. You’re not the type to be taken advantage of.”

“…”

Yeon-ji, who learned about love from the internet, didn’t understand the complex nuances of romance that can only be grasped through experience. Having gone through the major event of kissing, she thought smaller issues would resolve themselves, and grew frustrated with Song Yi-heon’s hesitation. She urged him on, choosing direct words as if about to burst from impatience. If it were about other girls, she would have been more thoughtful and careful, but dealing with the pushy Song Yi-heon, her advice became more aggressive.

“You kissed because you like each other, so confess your love firmly! Be manly about it! Then you’ll be a couple by Christmas!”

Yeon-ji emphasized each “firmly” with a chopping motion of her hand. There were a few girls in class who liked Song Yi-heon, and to help his kissing partner, who might be one of them, Yeon-ji encouraged the confession.

“Hey, hey. Stop it…”

Though he had only been listening, Song Yi-heon pleaded with Yeon-ji in a dying voice. He had never considered it love before, so he hadn’t built up a resistance to the idea.

Wondering if kissing was really such a big deal, a possibility crossed Yeon-ji’s mind. She became serious without realizing it, and whispered while covering her mouth, though no one had asked her to, “Did you… sleep together?”

Song Yi-heon wished he could just faint. He wondered what sin he had committed in a past life to be asked such a question by a child, and feeling like he might pass out, he covered his mouth with both hands and took deep breaths.

Seeing his reaction, Yeon-ji also felt she might have asked too intimate a question to a male classmate and pursed her lips, pretending to drink her sikhye. Feeling she might have pushed too hard, she had calmed down considerably by the time she spit out her straw and prodded Song Yi-heon again.

“Yi-heon, look at the hem of your uniform pants.”

Song Yi-heon crossed one ankle over the opposite knee. The new uniform bought for the second semester had the seams finished inside the pants, making them invisible.

“Did you buy new ones? If they’re too short, you can go to the tailor and ask them to let out the hem.”

“My thighs don’t fit.”

Song Yi-heon spoke with his mouth still covered. 

His body used to be just skinny with hardly any muscle. Despite not being the type to build muscle easily, his thighs had become more robust, making the spring/fall uniform pants he bought in the first semester no longer fit.

Unable to help it, Yeon-ji stretched out her legs straight ahead. The hem of her uniform pants, cut off abruptly near the ankle, swayed with her movement.

“Look at this.” Yeon-ji’s uniform pants, bought when she entered high school, had marks like tree rings where the hem had been let out as she grew taller. “I grew 2 centimeters since last semester.”

“You’ve grown a lot.”

“Right? I’m still short, but I have grown.”

The reason they became desk mates in the front row on the first day of the semester was because they were the shortest in the class.

“You’ve grown a lot too. Actually, you’ve grown the most. You’ve changed a lot. Sometimes when I look at you, I feel a distance like you’re about to leave… But still, confess. Whoever it is will be happy to receive a confession from someone like you. Even if you end up going away to a university in another region, it doesn’t mean liking someone is worthless.”

Children grow. Like adding tree rings, like the changed Song Yi-heon growing.

* * *

Even the 3rd year teachers’ office, busy with college admissions, couldn’t escape the festival. While the homeroom teachers were preoccupied with checking admission information for different universities, the empty desks belonged to teachers who had all gone out to the playground to see the festival.

Since sports days were held at an external sports complex by chartered bus, this festival was the last event for 3rd year students and teachers to enjoy before the college entrance exam. The teachers’ office was sparsely populated like a mouth with missing teeth, with the comings and goings of students seeking admission counseling adding to the disorder.

Jung Eun-chae finished reviewing Se-kyung’s self-introduction letter and uploaded it to the college admission site. Clapping her hands lightly, she was about to send Se-kyung, who had been called in and couldn’t attend the festival, on his way.

“Alright, Se-kyung, you’re done too. You can go now. Go enjoy the festival.”

But Se-kyung, sitting on the stool, didn’t get up. “Ma’am.”

“Yes? What is it? Do you have a question?”

To the kindly Eun-chae, Se-kyung asked even more gently, “Which universities did Yi-heon apply to for early admission?”

Since the end of summer vacation, they had been studying together in the reading room, practically inseparable except for sleeping hours. Naturally, they shared all the news with each other. However, while Song Yi-heon said he had applied for early admission, he absolutely refused to say which universities or departments he had applied to.

It was unpleasant to ask someone else about Song Yi-heon’s news, but there was no other choice. Putting aside his pride, he waited for Eun-chae to tell him, but Song Yi-heon had already taken precautions. Her sly smile was playful, but to Se-kyung it was just annoying.

“You two must be very close. Yi-heon earnestly asked me not to tell Se-kyung under any circumstances.”

It meant she couldn’t tell him where Song Yi-heon had applied. Se-kyung’s neatly maintained smile sweetened deeply. The smile, sweet enough to rot, was so charming that Eun-chae barely managed to deflect with a laugh what she had almost revealed.

Leaving the teachers’ office, Se-kyung came face to face with the head of a unicorn with a purple mane through the window. It was the air bounce installed in the corner of the playground. Frowning at the unpleasantly smiling unicorn, Se-kyung looked down from the window.

The noisy festival with music spreading up to the upper floors was something Se-kyung detested, but he had no choice if he wanted to find Song Yi-heon.

He thought it would be difficult to find him in the tightly packed black crowd, but he quickly spotted the light-colored short hair. As if waiting there to catch Se-kyung’s eye, their gazes met.

Song Yi-heon was sitting on a bench with Kim Yeon-ji. For some reason, Yeon-ji’s casual poking of Song Yi-heon seemed overly familiar.

Se-kyung had never had special feelings for girls his age, but he didn’t expect to feel jealousy before love. He knew Kim Yeon-ji and Song Yi-heon were close friends. But the problem was that, except for the handful of kisses, Se-kyung and Song Yi-heon were also close friends.

Not knowing jealousy could be such a petty red color, Se-kyung rubbed his lips where last night’s sensation still lingered, suppressing his twisting emotions.