by Leigh Ban
“Here,” I said, handing Isaac several wads of tissues.
Isaac wiped tears off the boy’s face, then gently dabbed the blood off his knees and shins. “Do you think you can walk?”
The boy nodded. To my surprise, he reached out and grabbed Isaac’s hand.
“You’re so strong,” Isaac praised the boy, beaming at him while we walked.
When we were just a few meters away from the seesaw, a girl came running toward us.
“Hayoon! Hayoon!” the girl shouted. She was about half a foot taller than the boy.
“Is that your sister?” Isaac asked the boy.
“We’re cousins,” the girl explained before taking the boy by his wrist. “What happened? Did you fall over?”
The boy was about to reply, but then he saw his grandmother and went over to her. He wrapped his arms around her legs.
“Where were you, Hayoon?” a boy yelled out as he went down the yellow plastic slide.
“I guess our work is done,” Isaac muttered. “Let’s head back to the station.”
During the bus ride back from the river, the image of Isaac and Hayoon walking hand in hand lingered in my mind. When we first met, I couldn’t stand Isaac’s arrogance. Back then, I thought I had him all figured out: he considered himself the most important person in the world. I presumed he used his looks and charms to get whatever he wanted with no regard for anyone else. However, his patience and gentle demeanor toward Hayoon suggested quite the contrary. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as I assumed. I knew there were plenty of guys who seemed like Mr. Perfect because they were putting on a façade. I’d dedicated hours of my life to warning my friends about those guys, but perhaps that meant I needed to give Mr. Probably-an-Asshole the benefit of the doubt.
After spending a few hours studying for my midterms, I walked over to The Big Fat Salad to meet up with Dana and Stella. Although I usually preferred to listen and offer them advice when it came to guys, while I waited for Stella and Dana by the entrance, I contemplated whether to mention what happened with Isaac. I’d only told them about Isaac in passing to stop them from getting hyped up over my profile pictures with him.
“Yumi,” Dana called out, rushing toward me.
“Should we head inside? I’m famished!” Stella said, trailing half a step behind Dana.
“Yeah, let’s go in.” I opened the door for them. “I’m getting a big fat falafel salad with a big fat glass of beer. This is pretty much our last night of fun before midterms.”
Once we sat down at our table, Dana said, “Should we order? I want to try the falafel salad today. What about you, Stella?”
“I think I’ll try the Caesar salad,” Stella answered.
Dana waved at one of the servers, who promptly came over to our table. He looked around our age and had a pierced lip.
“Hello, ladies! What would you like to order?” he asked.
“Two falafel salads, a Caesar salad, and…” I turned to look at Dana and Stella. “Three draft beers, right?”
“Yup, three icy-cold glasses of beer,” Dana replied.
“But surely not on the rocks?” the server joked.
Dana shook her head as she giggled politely.
“If there’s anything else you three princesses need, just ask,” the server said, giving Dana a wink.
Though I was tempted to roll my eyes, I refrained as Dana seemed to be enjoying the situation.
After the server left, Dana cupped her cheeks with her hands, smiling. Stella and I shot each other a look; we’d been trying to help Dana move on from her last heartbreak. However, a second later, the smile was wiped off her face. She looked off into the distance, her lower lip trembling. I wasn’t sure whether to say something or not.
“Oh yeah, by the way, nice profile picture, Yumi,” Dana said as she turned to me. “When did you visit the riverside?”
“Today,” I murmured.
“Today? So you’ve just come from there?” Dana asked. “We could’ve met you there. I love seeing the view of the river after it gets dark.”
“Me too. It’s gorgeous,” Stella chimed in.
I sighed. “No, I was there for like half an hour.”
“I don’t get it,” Dana said, raising her brows. “Why did you go to the Han River if you were going to stay there for only half an hour? Did you get into a fight with your—”
“Isaac?” I interjected. “No. Nothing happened. I told you guys about how he happens to be the guy from Gray Sky PC Café on course registration day, right?”
Dana and Stella nodded in unison.
“You know, I immediately assumed he was a cocky jerk, but I’m starting to wonder if I might’ve been wrong,” I confided. “The strange thing is, the universe keeps creating these situations where he comes off unfavorably to me. Meanwhile, he seems totally polite and decent to… basically everyone else.”
“What do you mean? Does he steal from you to donate to the poor and needy?” Dana joked.
“Not quite.” I chuckled. “He can be so charming and sweet, even to me, yet he’ll disrespect me in subtle ways. Ugh, he was on the phone with a girl when I went up to him today. I didn’t even realize at first because he was wearing EarPods and we were surrounded by a mob of people. When I began talking to him, he acted like I’d walked in on him while he was plotting a secret mission against the communists or something.”
“He does have a leading-man-in-a-blockbuster type of face,” Stella commented.
“Seriously?” I muttered.
Stella grabbed her phone and tapped on my JoaJoa profile picture. “Yumi, I think my boyfriend is the hottest man in the world, but that doesn’t mean I’ve fooled myself into believing he’s the only good-looking man out there. Objectively speaking, your class partner is an attractive guy. He seems really photogenic, actually.”
“Stella, please don’t show me that stupid selfie. It makes me cringe every time I use JoaJoa Messenger,” I said, both of us laughing as I shoved her phone away from me. “Besides, I don’t care if he’s photogenic, he’s a—”
“A what?” Dana asked.
While Dana and Stella glanced at me, I tried to think of the right word. A wave of irritation washed over me.
“He’s a player,” I muttered.
“Are you jealous of whoever he was on the phone with?” Stella teased.
As I opened my mouth to protest, the server returned to our table with our food and drinks.
“Enjoy your meal,” he said, flashing his teeth at Dana.
Dana had a blank look on her face. “What were you about to say, Yumi?”
“Guys, I’m not jealous of Isaac’s supposed girlfriend,” I asserted, stabbing a cherry tomato with my fork. “I’m annoyed at how he insisted I had to be his girlfriend so that he could get an A+ but failed to mention his actual girlfriend. Plus, once he hung up, he suggested we drink beer together. Isn’t day drinking with me disrespectful toward his girlfriend? He and I are partners for a fake relationship project, for goodness sake. Wouldn’t she find the situation uncomfortable?”
“Are you sure she’s his girlfriend? He didn’t call her ‘baby’ or ‘my love’ or whatever, did he? Seeing as you know her name. What if it was his sister?” Stella asked before taking a swig of beer.
Once I swallowed the cherry tomato, I said, “Isaac’s never mentioned a sister. I know he has a brother though. He seems to consider himself an honorary economics major because his brother’s an economics major.”
“Maybe he was just trying to find common ground with you,” Dana suggested.
“The only common ground we share is our inability to be in a long-term relationship. I’m too fussy to ever fall in love, and he’s too much of a serial womanizer.” I guzzled my glass of beer, then slammed it down on the table. “That’s why I didn’t stay by the Han River for long.”
Stella gave me a perplexed look. “So you ran off within half an hour of meeting up with him because… of his brief phone call? Yumi, you could’ve asked him who he
was talking to if it bothered you.”
I groaned. Though I was tempted to bring up how Isaac had been late for our first partner assignment at the Seoul Autumn Harvest Festival, I had a sneaking suspicion that Dana and Stella would tell me I was still in the wrong for leaving early today. They simply didn’t understand what it was like to be trapped with Isaac until the end of the semester.
Partner Assignment #2
Since Isaac and I went to Yeouido Park on a sunny autumn afternoon, we were surrounded by a huge mob of people. Lesson learned. I would urge couples to visit the riverside on a weekday if possible. The only exception would be new couples who are still going through the uncomfortable stage and need a distraction to fill the awkward silence. Also, there were so many kids at the park I began to question whether South Korea is truly dealing with a low fertility rate.
Chapter Five
When I arrived at International Trade the week after midterms, Professor Byun’s TA came to my desk.
“Professor Byun would like to talk to you after class,” she said.
Since I was simply one of 150 students taking the course, and his TA was the one we were supposed to go to for questions, I’d never had a conversation with Professor Byun. I didn’t even think he knew my name. Although I’d walked out of the exam hall feeling fairly confident, I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d somehow flunked my midterm. The look on my face caused his TA to chuckle.
“Don’t worry. You’re not in trouble,” she assured me.
“Because it’s not the right time of the year for academic warnings,” I joked, tittering nervously.
“Ah, that’s how a lot of undergrads meet Professor Byun for the first time, isn’t it? I know he’s the head of the economics department and all, but he’s pretty chill actually,” the TA commented, then left.
Frankly, I couldn’t focus on Professor Byun’s lecture. I was scared something might have gone terribly wrong. During midterm period, I’d studied my ass off in the library, knowing all the other Hope Scholarship nominees would be working just as hard. For two weeks, I hardly got up from my seat; when I returned to my apartment every night, my entire body ached. Although his TA had told me I wasn’t in trouble, she hadn’t clarified whether I was going to receive good news or bad news. What if Professor Byun spilled coffee on my exam paper before he had the chance to grade it?
“Should I wait for you outside?” Dana asked at the end of class.
“No, you don’t need to. I’m not sure how long I’ll take anyway,” I replied.
She put her bag over her shoulder. “I’ll be at the student center. Message me, okay?”
“Alright. Wish me luck,” I muttered.
When I went to the podium, Professor Byun greeted me with a nod. He was a small man who always turned up to class in a three-piece suit complete with a pocket square.
I peered at his face. “Hello, Professor Byun.”
“Miss Go,” he said, adjusting his round wire-rimmed glasses. “Miss Yumi Go.”
“Yes.” I stretched my lips into a smile. “Did you want to talk to me about something?”
“Professor Choi has told me a lot about you. She thinks you’re destined to be the next Hope Scholar. Is that so?”
“I… I’m not sure.” I shrugged, not knowing what he was getting at. “I’m trying my best, but it’s a competitive scholarship after all.”
“Well, it’s about the effort, not the outcome, right? That being said, I’ve almost finished grading the midterms for International Trade, and so far, you’ve scored the highest mark in the class.”
I gasped. “Really?”
Professor Byun began stacking his files. “I think most of your classmates found the exam rather challenging. The average score was fifty-eight, and just a handful of students got over ninety. In fact, you’re the only student who’s scored above ninety-five. You received ninety-eight out of a hundred. Good work, Miss Go.”
“Thank you,” I said, grinning sheepishly.
“Please contact me anytime if you need my help. I’d love to help you out, whether it’s for this course or the scholarship process. Do you know my phone number?” he asked.
“No, you left your TA’s number on the syllabus.”
“Right. Well, if you’d like to reach out to me, here is my number.” He tore off a corner of a page from his notes and wrote on it. “Also, I was thinking of assigning you and the other candidates a mentor.”
“A mentor?”
Professor Byun handed me the piece of paper. “Someone who’ll be able to provide insight into the scholarship application process. It’ll either be a current Hope Scholar or a scholar from last year. How does that sound?”
“That sounds fantastic. It would be super helpful,” I said, feeling almost as giddy as if I were just about to receive the scholarship.
“Great, I’ll pass your contact information to your mentor.”
When I walked out of the lecture hall, I knew one thing for sure: I was going to earn an A+ for all my classes, including Society and Love.
Isaac Bong was going to be my boyfriend. No, Isaac Bong was going to be my fake boyfriend. We both needed the A+. It was a comically easy A+, really; we didn’t need to pull all-nighters or compete with anyone. For the next two months, I was willing to eat my words, be a slave to my grades, and even write him a soppy love letter.
When I arrived at Society and Love, I immediately scanned the lecture hall to find Isaac. We were used to sitting on our own by now, but I was willing to change that. After all, I didn’t want him to settle for a B+ or, worse, give up on his grades entirely and not show up for our partner assignments. I couldn’t spot him anywhere, so I stood by the main door at the back and waited for him to come in. A couple of minutes later, Isaac came in, chewing gum. He wore a big black sweatshirt with jeans; for some reason, he tended to look casual for class but dress up for our partner assignments.
“There you are,” I called out, grabbing him by the arm.
“Woah.” He chuckled. “Since when did you stand by the entrance to wait for me?”
“Since today,” I said.
“What happened to you? Has Yumi Go been replaced by a clone? You look identical to her, down to the don’t-mess-with-me black lipstick. Nice leather jacket, by the way. Is it yours or Yumi’s?”
I yanked his arm. “Shut up. Let’s go sit over there. Class is about to start.”
“Oh, I get it. Did you miss me during midterm week?” he teased, biting his lip.
“You wish,” I replied. Though I was tempted to roll my eyes, I reminded myself that I merely had to put up with him until the end of the semester.
Just as we sat down, Professor Lim stood behind the podium and tapped on the mic, producing a horrible screech. Some students snickered; he was wearing a rainbow unicorn hoodie with a little gold horn on the hood.
“Hey, guys, welcome back from midterm week. I’m glad to see you all. Hm… I see a lot of tired faces today. I hope you’ll feel more refreshed and energized after your next ‘date.’ Your third partner assignment will be a Halloween special. Does anyone want to take a guess at where you’ll be headed?” Professor Lim asked.
“A nightclub!” a student shouted.
“No,” Professor Lim said.
“Unicorn World!” another student yelled out.
“Who said that?” Professor Lim clapped his hand. “Ten points for you. You’re correct.”
Unicorn World? My heart dropped. To be honest, it was possibly the most fitting place to visit out of the three locations we’d been assigned so far. Everyone knew Unicorn World was for children and lovers. Inside the pastel gates, children ran around dressed as superheroes or princesses or animals, while couples came in cheesy matching outfits and wore tacky headbands from the gift shop. Of course, I’d only visited the theme park with my family, back when I was in elementary school, and with Dana, sometime during freshman year. On both occasions, I’d enjoyed the rides but hated the lovey-dovey photo zones and decorations.<
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“Is he serious? Unicorn World in October? The place is going to be absolutely packed this weekend,” I muttered. The worst part was, there was going to be five times more people as usual, which meant five times as many obnoxious couples.
“I think that’s the whole point,” Isaac said with an annoying smirk on his face. “If you’re nice, I’ll even buy you one of those unicorn headbands.”
I shot him a snide look. “Ugh, please, save your money. Keep your cosplay fantasies to yourself. I don’t want to know.”
Chapter Six
“Do you like rollercoasters?” Isaac asked while we were lined up at the entrance of Unicorn World.
“Yeah, I only come to theme parks for the rides,” I replied, sticking my head out to the side to see how fast the line was moving. After purchasing half-day tickets, we’d been waiting to get inside for twenty minutes.
“Want me to lift you so you can get a better view?” he offered, giving me a cheeky grin.
“You’re not strong enough,” I muttered. “Or I’m too heavy. Whatever.”
“That’s what girls always say, ‘No, I’m too heavy!’ Pray tell, Yumi, is it an obligatory response to say out of courtesy? Or are you truly scared for your life because you believe I’d drop you head-first?”
“That’s what girls always say?” I sneered. “According to what study? Published in what journal? The Journal of Isaac’s Love Life? Now, pray tell, Isaac, why do you keep trying to allude to how many girls you’ve dated?”
“Hey, I was just joking.” He gave me a soft nudge. “By the way, is there anything you’re not comfortable with going on? Since you like rollercoasters, I’m assuming you’ve heard about the new Unicorn-ster ride?”
“No, I haven’t been here in two years. What is it?” I asked.
“Oh, you’re going to love that ride. Apparently, it’s the fastest rollercoaster in the country now. We have to line up for it first thing once we get inside,” he replied, then searched an image of the Unicorn-ster on his phone and showed it to me.
