FBF chapter 9 part 4

“Hey. What’s this? There are so many words I don’t know.”

As I watched him flipping through the pages, seemingly shocked and trying to find any familiar words, I snapped back to reality and opened my mouth.

“My mom sent it. She said it’s a collection of terms extracted from literature that the College Scholastic Ability Test creators frequently refer to, specifically words that aren’t in the usual vocabulary lists. It just came out recently.”

“Thank goodness. Damn, I thought I was back in middle school for a second. Hey, where can I buy this?”

Watching him ready to purchase it as soon as he knew the title, an unconsidered comment slipped out.

“Why would you buy it?”

“I need to buy it because I don’t understand any of it.”

“Don’t buy it. I’ll let you borrow it once I’m done with it.”

“…You’ll give it to me?”

“Yeah.”

“Then you…”

“It’s fine. If I need it again, I can just ask you for it. We see each other every day anyway….”

Lee Jihoon hesitated and stared at me. Maybe I said it too casually. If you think about it, I was just saying I’d share a study material, but seeing it feel so awkward and fidgety made me realize again how clumsy I was with expressions. I averted my gaze from Jihoon and cleared my throat unnecessarily. I also pushed the bag on the round table as a way to change the topic.

“And… thank you for this. I’ll eat it well.”

It was a somewhat awkward gratitude that I forced out, but Lee Jihoon unexpectedly burst into laughter at that moment. He waved his hand at my puzzled gaze.

“No, it’s just… when Ahn Hee-yeon asked if you grew taller, you said you didn’t know. But now that I look at you, it does seem like you’ve gotten taller.”

“…….”

“Not just your height, but also your heart.”

While I mulled over Ahn Hee-yeon’s name that came up again, I belatedly noticed that Lee Jihoon had reached for my head. With a suitably gentle touch, he lightly ruffled my hair while laughing. It was more akin to a pat on the top of my head than an actual mess-up. I had seen him playfully ruffling Kang Youngsoo’s hair from time to time, but this was the first time I was on the receiving end. There was no way to escape from this unexpected closeness. Fortunately, his hand was quickly withdrawn, so I didn’t have to do anything in response.

“Thank you for saying thank you instead of just giving me money.”

Lee Jihoon smiled again, maintaining eye contact with me. I didn’t know what kind of expectations or disappointments others might project onto that smile. Depending on the angle of Jihoon’s lips going up, my heart would clatter and be a vibes of excitement, only to crash down again as he casually broke our gaze. He pushed the English vocabulary book towards me and then started opening the package.

“Hurry up and eat. You need to study more after this.”

I wondered if Kang Youngsoo would have done the same thing. He probably would have. Despite bickering every day, Jihoon always looked out for Kang Youngsoo in his own way. It was Jihoon who targeted Youngsoo’s mother to make sure he registered at the same academy after Youngsoo holed himself up in his room from a heartbreak. I remembered how he seriously asked Youngsoo, who was whining about why he had to attend an academy, “How long do you plan on making your aunt work? What about Young-eun?” It was a sobering realization to Youngsoo that he would someday have to be the head of the household. Youngsoo, who didn’t expect to hear such a serious reminder for just whining, ended up speechless as Jihoon continued without pause. “Think about it. What do you think is the easiest thing we can do at our age?” Jihoon’s tone had no hint of joking, which left Youngsoo unable to say anything and simply listen. I felt similar, having inadvertently witnessed that dynamic. Youngsoo, with his teary eyes biting his lips, nevertheless went back to his playful self the next day, attending the academy with Jihoon. Perhaps thanks to that, Youngsoo’s grades had significantly improved lately. His aunt praised him, saying it was due to his studious friends, but I knew better than anyone that all the credit should go to Jihoon. Jihoon didn’t pull any typical antics designed to take advantage of his familiarity with Youngsoo, ensuring that Youngsoo knew there was no need for their pride to clash. That was how Jihoon operated. He took responsibility for people within his circle, always looking after them until the end.

The consideration he extended towards me was probably similar. Watching Jihoon twist open the lid of the liquid antacid, I slowly extended my hand. As if he didn’t notice my intense gaze, Jihoon was now tearing off a tablet. I readily took the pill he passed over and swallowed it down.

As Jihoon was about to walk toward the trash can with the trash he just took out, he suddenly stopped and turned around to ask.

“Hey, when does your class have career counseling?”

After a brief moment of contemplation, I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know, maybe next week?” Considering I had nothing specific to say, it seemed our homeroom teacher would conduct the counseling after the final exam results were in. Given how he always emphasized the differences between rolling admissions and regular admissions, I had a solid idea of his intentions. I thought he was asking because he had a reason, but Jihoon only nodded blankly without saying much.

The reading room corridor, lined with closed classrooms, was narrow enough that we had to walk in a single file. While glancing at his phone, Jihoon halted in front of his room for a moment. He waved at me lightly and shaped his mouth as if to speak.

“Work hard.” Jihoon, with both his fists raised as if conveying encouragement, stepped inside his room. As if no one in the empty corridor was listening, I burst into a late laugh. I continued my steps while holding the bag of vitamins.

Choi Hyuk-jun slept quietly the next day and the day after. The only difference from the first day of his transfer was that he had headphones in his ears. It was strangely amusing how tolerant the teachers were, allowing that. Reflecting on how they occasionally monitored to see if students were listening to study-related content during self-study time, it was clear this was intentional leniency—treating him as a mere nuisance.

During class and even during breaks, Choi Hyuk-jun kept his earphones in until well after lunchtime. He only raised his head after lunch had long passed. He removed one earphone from his ear, dropping his MP3 player onto his desk as if it annoyed him. I checked the screen of the MP3, which was black—indicating that the battery was dead.

“Hey, do you have an MP3?”

At Hyuk-jun’s question, I gestured toward a corner of my desk. My MP3 was entangled in cords and pushed to the side since I had just taken it out to listen to an English listening file. Hyuk-jun grabbed my MP3 as if he took my gesture as permission to do so.

“Wow, this is a piece of junk. Does it even turn on?”

It was impossible to tell whether his comment was a random thought or an actual question. I glanced at him before looking away again. Compared to Hyuk-jun’s newer design, my MP3 was outdated. Even so, when I transferred to Taean, it had just been the latest model. I could have easily asked my mom or grandpa to buy me a new one, but since I didn’t feel the need, I continued to use the old one. After all, I wasn’t keen on listening to music, and as long as I could transfer files from my computer, it was fine by me.

Nonetheless, it was the first time Hyuk-jun had treated it like a relic in front of me. Maybe he meant to give me a jab or something, but I couldn’t be bothered to respond to his remarks. “What is that?” Hyuk-jun, who had confirmed my indifferent reaction, paused before returning his gaze to the MP3 buttons.

“Well, Seon-uk, you don’t use your MP3 much anyway, do you?”

Instead, the quiet Hamah, sitting in front of me, hesitated before speaking up. His stiff manner of seeking my response without turning his head towards Hyuk-jun seemed to convey his worry that I might feel offended by Hyuk-jun’s thoughtless comment. It was Hamah’s way of defending me, given the murmurings of discomfort around Hyuk-jun since he took over Raccoon’s place in our friend group. Hamah mustered the courage just to sit in front of me during lunch. In an effort to reassure him, I casually nodded and pulled the math workbook he had asked me to look over closer to myself.

“Hey, Jihoon.”

Just as I was about to turn my head back, Hamah cheerfully greeted me. The moment I turned my head, my eyes met Lee Jihoon’s. He had my gym uniform in hand and paused for a moment, looking at me awkwardly before smiling casually.

“Hey, Hamah. Did you enjoy your lunch? They served sweet and sour chicken today.”

Jihoon said warmly to Hamah while placing my gym uniform on my desk. Written on the neatly folded uniform’s chest was ‘Ji Seon-uk.’ It was borrowed by Jihoon two days prior when he stopped by the class. A familiar scent wafted from the tacky blue fabric.

“Hey, what’s there to say? The raccoon pretended to be a first-year and got caught the second time he went for thirds.”

The tension Hamah had just shown before Hyuk-jun was suddenly gone as he chuckled at Jihoon, seeming to resonate with the fact that Jihoon remembered he liked the sweet and sour chicken. It was probably because Hamah was quick to become friends with Jihoon, who, until he met me, had always been in different classes. Jihoon always playfully engaged with everyone, keeping the conversation flowing effortlessly. Especially with those who hung around with me, he would act even friendlier than usual, but that was simply the way he was.

“Wow, Jihoon. I heard you ranked tenth in science this time.”

People passing by couldn’t help but give Jihoon’s shoulder a light tap while making comments. What’s this? The rumor mill in the humanities department was quick to notice? Jihoon laughed while casually responding, just as someone called out to him from the back door.

“Jihoon, your gym teacher is calling you. Wait, Jihoon, are you leaving?” Voices floated around from all directions. Lee Jihoon turned his head towards the classmate who called him. I heard him casually say, “Yeah, I’m going.” He placed a hand on my shoulder with ease.

“Are we having counseling today?”

“Ah, yeah.”

Realizing they were asking about career counseling, I nodded. I had indeed noticed that this type of question had been frequent lately. Were they wanting to say something about their future like Kang Youngsoo? It didn’t seem like I had done anything wrong. Just as those thoughts occurred to me, Jihoon’s hand left my shoulder.

“See you later then.”

Jihoon, finishing with Hamah by giving his shoulder a light pat, turned around without any hesitation. I turned my head back only after watching him exit through the back door.

“…Hey.”

Hyuk-jun called me, startling me. I had completely forgotten about his presence after Jihoon’s sudden appearance. The gaze Hyuk-jun had on the MP3 he was still holding was now fixed on the back door, just as I had done moments earlier.

“What’s that guy’s name? Lee Jihoon?”

I felt a rush of unease as I realized Hyuk-jun revealed a glimmer of interest in his usually bored expression. It was a sensation I hadn’t felt even when Hyuk-jun had been blabbering about his dad being a gangster. Hyuk-jun muttered as if trying to recall something, frowning slightly.

“Where have I seen him? His face is familiar. Did I run into him while hanging out?”

I suddenly remembered the whispers between the kids before Hyuk-jun came in.

‘Is that Park Cheol-seung? You know, that damn punk who’s really tight with that guy.’

The voices I believed I had ignored resonated in my ears now. I met Hyuk-jun’s gaze, which turned slowly to me.

I usually acted and spoke together. It was rare that my actions would outpace my words or vice versa. Yet, at that moment, it felt as if I had forgotten how to do that entirely. My words quickly escaped my mouth before I could think.

“No. You wouldn’t have seen him.”

Hyuk-jun froze at my bluntness. My brisk, cold tone must have seemed new to him.

“He came from the same middle school as me. Back then, he just studied hard.”

I could feel Hamah’s bewildered gaze upon hearing that. Knowing that Jihoon had played baseball during middle school, he must have quickly picked up on the flaw in my statement. However, Hyuk-jun likely wouldn’t have caught on, nor did he need to know that fact at all.

My heart raced so much harder than usual as I spoke my first-ever lie. Even while trying my best to hide it, I still didn’t divert my gaze from Hyuk-jun. Perhaps sensing my answer as satisfactory, Hyuk-jun glanced at me for a moment before thankfully turning his head away.

“Well, as long as it’s not a big deal.”

Having lost interest in Jihoon, he pressed buttons on the MP3, making a face of displeasure. “Hey, don’t you have new clothes for the kids at home? Hyuk-jun would talk about family issues endlessly during lunch without me asking. Today, he mentioned his ten-year-old twin brothers who were different from his mom but had the same last name. While he spoke so nonchalantly about his not-so-close siblings, his expression remained rather devoid of emotion. As if to say that there was no difference between siblings or whether his manager treated him to lunch.

Feeling my tension ease, I shook my head. No, it’s fine. Hyuk-jun didn’t respond. I turned my head toward the workbook, releasing a breath I had been holding.

For a while, I would need to keep Jihoon from coming to class. Unlike the words I had cast out without hesitation, deep down, I was utterly convinced that Jihoon and Hyuk-jun had crossed paths somewhere.

There was no way Jihoon would go back down that path. I had no doubt about that. Still, there was a lingering sense of ‘what if.’ I wanted to avoid even casting a small spark. Lost in my thoughts, I suddenly paused. I wondered if Jihoon had recognized Hyuk-jun. Then I realized that Jihoon, who became friends with Raccoon and enjoyed meals with Hamah as my partner, had just not spoken a word to Hyuk-jun, who had sat next to me.

“Manager, I’ll ask later. The pre-bell just rang.”

Only after I saw Hamah cautiously speaking did I snap out of it. I nodded and handed the workbook back to Hamah. By then, Hyuk-jun had already laid his head down on the desk, and the earphones visible between his ears were connected to my MP3.

*

It was right after gym class. My hands were covered in dust from cleaning the basketballs used by the entire class. As I entered the restroom to wash my sticky hands, Hyuk-jun followed me, as if it were only natural. Just like during lunchtime and during the moving class. At first, I had consciously accompanied him, remembering the teacher’s advice, but now Hyuk-jun’s will seemed stronger. There was hardly a reason to shake him off since he always kept a reasonable distance while walking slowly behind me. Hyuk-jun generally didn’t speak to anyone in class. It didn’t seem like he was shy; rather, he seemed to deliberately ignore anyone who made eye contact unless they were the first to look away. It was obviously natural for my friends who used to hang around with me to feel uncomfortable around him. Consequently, it became common for the two of us to move and do things together. Hyuk-jun was rather quiet, so it didn’t bother me that much. Even now, he was merely gazing down at his phone next to me while I washed my hands.

While washing my hands, I noticed something splattered on my gym uniform’s sleeve. The stains extending up to my arm seemed likely to have come from my deep dive into the mesh net while cleaning up the basketballs earlier. After a brief consideration, I simply took off the gym uniform. I was wearing my regular uniform underneath anyways, so it didn’t matter.

The moment I splashed water onto the stained area and rubbed it lightly, I heard a loud bang as the door swung open. In the mirror, I could see someone coming out of the last stall.

“Damn, so I…”

One, two, three. The reason there were three people emerging from one stall was evident given the cigarette smell that spread throughout the restroom once the door opened. As they approached the sink, their eyes widened in nervousness when they met mine. One of the faces I recognized smiled awkwardly and spoke to me.

“Hey, um, hello.”

“Hi.”

Was he Raccoon’s middle school friend? I had exchanged greetings with him once. The others standing nearby were whispering and poking their friend’s side.

“Uh, you’re not a snitch, right?”

Seeing them hesitate while asking, I understood why they brought it up. Because I frequently went up to the front during general meetings, and teachers often mentioned me during class, I was often regarded as a friend of the teachers. They must have been afraid I might tell the teachers they were smoking.

I thought to myself how funny it was that they would go as far as to hide in the gym restroom to smoke. I just shrugged my shoulders in response.

“What’s that?”

“Oh? Uh… Never mind, just ignore it.”

Having waved their hands dismissively, the others exchanged glances before hastily leaving the restroom. I met the gaze of Hyuk-jun, who had been watching from the mirror. His face bore a grin of curiosity that tugged at an all-too-familiar feeling of unease. Hyuk-jun, as predicted, started taking steps toward the problematic area. It was as if he had been instinctively drawn to it.

“Hey.”

There was a crucial difference between classmates who rarely crossed paths smoking a cigarette and someone from our class committing acts against the teacher’s request. I called out to stop him belatedly, but Hyuk-jun didn’t halt his steps. He reached the last stall and knocked loudly. Glancing around the cramped space, he picked up a cigarette butt that lay on the floor and turned to me.

“Wanna smoke?”

It wasn’t very long for a butt, considering it hadn’t been fully smoked, but still, it was just a cigarette butt. I couldn’t grasp the intent behind someone offering me trash dripping with someone else’s saliva like that. I recalled Hyuk-jun’s belongings that I had observed beside him. Sure, even if his uniform was new due to transferring recently, everything he wore or owned wasn’t a single thing of older models. Even Raccoon, who avoided him, would occasionally glance enviously at the sneakers Hyuk-jun wore while passing by, a clear indication of the resentment he held. For Raccoon, who spent nearly all his savings on shoes, it seemed that even though he didn’t want to show it, he still coveted those sneakers.

To an outsider, Hyuk-jun only seemed like a rich kid, and he occasionally behaved as if that thought was amusing to him. I was simply irritated by the fact that I found myself being the only person he spoke in the class. It annoyed me that he casually asked if I wanted to commit an act of delinquency like suggesting we grab a meal together. Staring at him through the mirror, I opened my mouth, not feeling it was worth answering such a question.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It’s dirty.”

Hyuk-jun chuckled slightly, glancing down at the cigarette butt in his hand as he muttered.

“If that’s dirty, you’ll never be able to do drugs for the rest of your life.”

Saying it almost mockingly, Hyuk-jun casually tossed the butt into the trash instead of putting it in his mouth and walked back toward the sink. He would occasionally bring up drugs like this whenever it was least expected. It felt like he was reminding himself of his reality, being the son of a drug dealer. Seeing the butt made me ponder what kind of a life an eighteen-year-old intertwined with drugs would lead. As my thoughts lingered, he returned to my side, leaning against the bathroom wall, gesturing toward the gym uniform still clutched in my hand.

“Why don’t you just buy a new one?”

Ignoring his plump question as if it were a taunt, I turned on the water. The soaking material of the gym uniform dampened in the running water.

Someone else entered the restroom at that moment. As I recognized the face of the newcomer in the mirror, my hand froze underneath the faucet. The boy who hastily entered the restroom smiled at me as he caught my eye, seemingly relieved to finally find me.

“Hey. You have the whistle, right? I heard the coach left it with you.”

It was Lee Jihoon, clad in his gym attire. Now that I mentioned it, both Jihoon and I had gym class that day. Our class was at the sixth period, while Jihoon’s was at the seventh, right? In a state of confusion, I shoved my hands into my pockets. The gym teacher had entrusted the whistle to the managers. It was one of the teacher’s clever ways of making sure someone else kept an eye on things when he had a habit of disappearing during class. Today, he had also vanished right after giving the whistle to the managers, claiming he had to make a phone call. I had planned to leave it in the gym office after class but had forgotten because I came straight to the restroom.