Don't Throw It Away

"I told you to throw it away?"

With those words, Kwon Hyun-jin suddenly burst out laughing. His handsome eyes crinkled shut, and his fine hair whipped in the winter wind. White teeth, and sunlight shattering above his head. Looking at me as he walked backward, Kwon Hyun-jin's face drove into my chest like an arrow.

Even after the boy who'd been grinning like a fool vanished from sight, I stood for a long time at the gate.

Before long, a sedan passed in front of me. Even in that brief instant, Kwon Hyun-jin recognized me first, rolled down the back-seat window, and held up the phone in his hand.

I'll call you.

That was probably what he meant.

When Mom wasn't around, I took out the gift Kwon Hyun-jin had left me. Inside the envelope was a pastel lime-green velvet box. When I opened it, a four-leaf clover necklace and bracelet set studded with bright red jewels appeared.

I only held the necklace up once in front of the bathroom mirror. Even at a glance, the craftsmanship made it look expensive — it stood out immediately. If I went around wearing something like this, Mom and the ladies of the house would obviously start asking questions. As if sealing it away, I stuffed the necklace and bracelet, box and all, deep into my wardrobe.

At that very moment, as if he'd seen everything I did, my phone started ringing. Several calls came through, but I didn't answer.

Kwon Hyun-jin.

Above those three syllables, his face rose unbidden. The boy who'd walked away looking at me, laughing as if he owned the whole world beside a cold gray wall. That smile I owed him.

I'd labeled it a bothersome errand, and after starting university I'd tried to pull away. Thinking only of my own convenience. Kwon Hyun-jin's messages now prodded at my stifled guilt — because of that boy who thought of me even when I wasn't there.

But even if we got closer, we wouldn't be able to stay together long. Even if I — or you — didn't work hard to pull away, the natural order of things would scatter us apart.

Staring down at the screen that kept lighting up alone, I turned over words I could never say out loud. The more I thought of him, the more a dull ache throbbed near my heart — a bad omen, every last bit of it.

Finally, it was December 31st. Kwon Hyun-jin, who'd had every call and text of his completely ignored by me for a full week since Christmas Day, flew into a rage and finally announced he was coming to Hannam-dong himself.

Only after I sent that reply did my phone fall quiet.

I went in the afternoon. It wasn't on purpose. Madam and Madam Jang had told me to take the turkey they'd put in the oven, and between "Is it done?" and "Is it not done?" I dawdled and ended up late.

All excuses. The truth was, the moment I thought of him waiting for me, my feet refused to move easily.

The last day of my minority. I was vaguely afraid that something might change starting today. The cypress of the Chairman's mansion, the towering walls — everything just felt frightening.

"Fuck, you said you'd come in the morning."

Regrettably, Kwon Hyun-jin had been waiting for me fully set from head to toe. It was similar to the duffle coat I usually wore in winter, but what he had on was a different breed entirely. The material felt impossibly luxurious.

Kwon Hyun-jin took the box I'd been lugging over from my hands.

"It's turkey. Madam said they couldn't eat it on Christmas because of the memorial rites."

"Why didn't you answer my texts."

"I saw them late..."

"You met Kim Chang-jin, didn't you."

"What? That's nonsense... Why are you suddenly bringing up Chang-jin."

"Chang-jin? Fuck."

"..."

"Ah, a friend. Real close friends, huh. Must be nice having so many friends, Lee Na-hee?"

The kid was wound tight as a viper, poison rising. If I kept listening, there was no telling what would come out of that mouth.

"Want to go to the Han River?"

I dragged Kwon Hyun-jin straight outside.

"So what are we doing now."

I'd thought it strange how meekly he followed. Kwon Hyun-jin must have assumed I had some plan.

"What are we doing."

"Um..."

An answer didn't come easily. Truthfully, I'd figured that if I suggested the Han River, we'd dilly-dally and each head home early.

What were we supposed to do out here in this bitter cold? The riverside was thick with vicious couples paired off in threes and fives like cicadas stuck to dead trees. So December 31st really was a special day, I supposed.

It was too late to say let's just part ways because it was cold. I rolled my eyes. What should we do here...

"Want to ride bikes?"

"That?"

Kwon Hyun-jin pointed at a couple bicycle. He'd somehow spotted one zipping past through the access path.

"I meant a public bike..."

"Let's ride that."

"To ride that we'd have to go to the rental place. And they probably don't even run them in winter."

"Fuck, those people are riding one right now."

He was dead set on riding a tandem bike no matter what.

Since I was late, and it was true I'd deliberately not answered his texts, I decided to put up with him just for today. After finally tracking down a rental station at Kwon Hyun-jin's insistence, we got on the bike.

"I'm not pedaling."

"Suit yourself."

Seated in the front of the couple bike, Kwon Hyun-jin seemed to be enjoying himself even as he took the full brunt of the Han River's cutting wind. As we chatted along, his mood seemed to improve a little, thankfully — his voice was soft.

"Where did you say your goal was...?"

"S University."

Director Yoon Jong-oh's wife ran a hagwon in Seoul. In place of Director Yoon, who was stationed in Jeju, his wife seemed to be helping Kwon Hyun-jin in every way she could.

"If I'm going, I'm going to the best one."

"If you get into S University, the Chairman will actually faint."

None of Chairman Kwon's grandchildren had graduated from S University yet. Madam's son Kwon Seung-ju had even taken the exams three times to earn his grandfather's recognition, but in the end he'd failed to clear S University's threshold.

"Then you're never going back to England?"

"You want me to?"

Still pedaling, Kwon Hyun-jin looked back at me irritably.

"I knew it'd be like this. When you were pushing me to meet Director Yoon, what was that about?"

"Pushing? I wasn't even doing it to be nice."

"If it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't have even contacted him, Lee Na-hee. Fuck, I did everything you told me to."

He must have had a lot bottled up. The kid was thoroughly sulking.

"Being in Seoul is already shit. I'm holding it all in, trying to endure it all, and now you come along and...!"

Instead of excuses, I gently took hold of Kwon Hyun-jin's waist. As if I'd hit a stop button, the angry voice stopped coming.

After racing along the Han River for a while, breathing in the winter wind, Kwon Hyun-jin suddenly spoke.

"Director Yoon said to keep it secret from Madam Jang. That I'm in contact with him."

"Well, Madam Jang would... it would reach Madam's ears."

From Director Yoon's position, contacting the eldest grandson of Kwonjin carried a lot of risk.

Until the eldest son — the heir — had passed away, the second son Kwon Young-moo hadn't even been allowed to set foot in the main house. After being reinstated to the group through an affiliate, Kwon Young-moo had produced only mediocre results and failed to earn trust, so he'd gradually taken over the people around the Chairman one by one and made his way into Kwonjin Electronics.

Because of that long, grinding process, Vice President Kwon Young-moo still couldn't tolerate any remaining traces of the eldest son left in Kwonjin Electronics. Director Yoon, who'd been left to roam like a stray dog, was a prime example.

"Stop for a second."

"There?"

Kwon Hyun-jin gestured with his chin toward a clear sky-blue container box. A convenience store.

"Yeah. I'm thirsty."

Being winter, the sun had set early. It was cold, and I was starting to get hungry. Luckily one parasol bench was still free.

I caught the sleeve of Kwon Hyun-jin as he headed straight into the convenience store.

"Sit here."

"You said you were thirsty."

"I'll buy it."

"Going off alone again."

"Just stay there! Someone'll take the seat."

I ordered him to hold the table against anyone who might try to follow, and went into the convenience store. A bag of Shin Ramyun was 4,500 won. Nearly ten times the inflated price, but I couldn't complain.