Thumping Planet Episode 7
Earlier, she’d been so flustered she’d stammered through everything, and the instant the bell rang she’d bolted from the lecture hall like she was fleeing for her life. She’d raced straight to the professor’s office and begged to switch groups, but Professor Gwak had simply pushed up his red-framed glasses and said kindly,
“Just do it.”
Utterly crushed, she’d come to the cafeteria with Na-hee for a meal. Once some food was in her stomach her nerves settled a little, and Ji-eum started replaying what had happened.
Exactly when had he recognized her? And why hadn’t he said anything from the start? She couldn’t make sense of it no matter how hard she tried.
She poked at the spinach namul with her chopsticks, thinking it through carefully from Jemulpo Puppy’s—no, Kwon Beom-ju’s—point of view.
That day Ji-eum had gone out drinking with Kwon Beom-ju and then ditched him halfway through. Not exactly polite, but she’d had her reasons.
“Hey. Still not feeling anything?”
Kwon Beom-ju’s bloodshot eyes as he’d listened to her talk about her unrequited love.
The lewd voice he’d used while the front of his dress pants bulged out.
“Want me to go further?”
“Further?”
She’d fled without a word and deleted the app. But now…
Looking back on it carefully, it bothered her.
Whatever it was, she should have given it a proper ending. It was an excuse, but at the time she’d suddenly gotten scared… She hadn’t even known who he really was… All she could think about was running away.
“…….”
Anyway, if that was the reason, she could understand a little why Kwon Beom-ju might be angry.
There were only two ways to fix this. Drop the course and switch to another lecture, or… handle it like an adult and talk it out. Explain the circumstances to Kwon Beom-ju.
Honestly, the first option was more tempting. But that would mean tearing apart the carefully Tetris-ed timetable she’d put together… and that was honestly a pain.
…She’d have to apologize. In the end the answer was the second one. He’d said he was a philosophy major, right? Then they should be able to settle it through conversation like proper intellectuals.
Having reached that conclusion, Ji-eum finished her meal and left the student cafeteria alone. Professor Gwak had summoned Na-hee, so she’d had to leave before finishing her food. Walking the campus by herself wasn’t so bad.
The air still carried a chill that brushed her nose, but it was spring after all—the sunlight poured down quite warmly. Students weaving across campus wore smiles and looked full of life. Good times. At first she’d walked along thinking about it indifferently, but that bright atmosphere gradually shifted her mood in a more positive direction.
She was an upperclassman now; no point in letting herself go. Maybe she should sign up at a gym and start working out a little. Rent had gone up, but she’d been saving steadily, so a six-month membership wouldn’t be a problem. The thought of treating herself for once in a long while left her feeling buoyant.
“I’ll stop by later and ask…”
She was wondering whether she’d need to buy workout clothes separately when a sudden icy metallic touch pressed against her cheek. Startled, Ji-eum jerked her body back on reflex.
“Ah, that’s cold!”
She whipped around, gasping, and found Seung-jo grinning while holding a drink can. Her heart hammered as if it might burst.
“Yaaa, I almost had a heart attack!”
Ji-eum’s voice jumped a couple of tones. She rubbed her cheek with her palm, trying to calm her racing pulse. Seung-jo just laughed like it was nothing and shook the can.
“Just from this? You’ve always been such a scaredy-cat.”
He laughed again like he found it funny, then held the can out.
“Drink.”
Still clutching her chest and panting, Ji-eum took the can in a daze.
Tenten Peach Time.
“…It’s Peach Time.”
Her lips moved. This was the peach drink she’d told him months ago that she didn’t like. The artificial scent and sticky aftertaste had put her off, but he must have forgotten. She almost reminded him she didn’t care for it, then stopped. There was no need to say that to Seung-jo when he’d gone out of his way to buy it for her, and more than anything, if he forgot again it would just make her a little sad.
It had been different before she met Hana. He’d remembered every little thing. What she liked, what she hated. They really were changing, weren’t they… the two of them.
“Thanks…. I’ll drink it.”
Ji-eum fiddled with the cold can.
“Where’d your friend go? You’re alone.”
“Ah, Na-hee? The professor called her so she left first. Anyway our next class is in Jinri-gwan so we said we’d meet there.”
“Then let’s go together. I’m headed to the central library anyway.”
The central library was the building right next to Jinri-gwan. Seung-jo fell into step beside her naturally. As they walked side by side across campus, Ji-eum looked down at her own hand hanging loosely toward him. They used to hold hands now and then as a joke, but now it was just an empty hand.
Ji-eum, this is only natural. You have to get used to it soon…
She soothed the part of herself that wanted to sink into gloom and pretended nothing was wrong while listening to Seung-jo’s voice.
“But you didn’t go down to Cheonan over break?”
“Yeah. I don’t even know whose house I’d go to… and even if I did, they wouldn’t exactly be happy to see me…”
“They’re still that bad, huh.”
“Oh, no! I was actually glad! It felt more comfortable that way!”
Ji-eum deliberately brightened her voice so Seung-jo wouldn’t worry. The part about feeling more at ease because she hadn’t gone home was also true. For the long stretch from her birth until she entered university, her parents had hated each other and fought constantly. Growing up, home had always been an anxious place where she had to watch her step. She’d lived carefully so as not to get on their nerves.
Ji-eum had thought that was normal. She’d thought everyone lived like that. Then one day in kindergarten she’d gone to a friend’s house to play and her whole world had flipped upside down.
A living room that never stopped ringing with laughter. Family laughter bursting out at the parents’ noisy jokes. Warm eyes looking at her friend as if they found her precious.
That hadn’t been something faked the way her own parents did it. That night, coming home alone to an empty house, Ji-eum had buried her face in her pillow and cried without a sound.
Those parents had finally divorced the year before last. Once the grandparents who’d pushed the marriage through passed away around the same time, her parents had scattered onto their own paths as if they’d been waiting for it. Both of them promptly set up house with the people they’d been having affairs with. It hadn’t taken long at all for the family to fall apart.
Ji-eum had been left in the middle. Her parents were still alive and well, but she no longer had a home to return to. Joining either of their new households was impossible. Ji-eum was an unwelcome guest.
“Don’t you miss living in Cheonan though? There are so many places we used to go together…. If it’s really that rough being alone, let’s go down together this semester. We can visit Bokil High too.”
“Ahh, yeah. It’s been ages since I went to school.”
“Five years now.”
“Wow…. Feels like just yesterday and it’s already been that long?”
“Back in high school…”
Seung-jo stopped walking for a moment and studied Ji-eum’s face thoroughly. Then he gave an unreadable little smile.
“You were really cute in high school, Ji-eum.”
“W-what are you talking about…”
“You used to smile a lot back then. These days you don’t even smile for me much.”
“There were just so many funny things in high school. R-remember when we got caught at the PC bang? Dooley PC Bang.”
“Ahaha. Of course. We hid like our lives depended on it and still got caught.”
Pfft. They both burst out laughing at the same time. The power of old memories was strong enough to lift their spirits right away. They got so wrapped up talking about those days that Jinri-gwan came into view before they knew it.
Ji-eum stopped under the wisteria in front of Jinri-gwan. It was a shame, but this was where she and Seung-jo had to part ways. She was holding the can in both hands when she lifted her head and noticed something resting on Seung-jo’s hair.
“You’ve got a petal on your head, Seung-jo.”
Ji-eum pointed with her finger at the early-blooming petal that had settled on Seung-jo’s hair. Here? No, no. Higher up. No, not there…. After a few exchanges Seung-jo’s hand suddenly shot out and grabbed her wrist.
“Uh…!”
“I can’t see it, so you take it off for me.”
At the sudden contact Ji-eum’s eyelids fluttered. Seung-jo’s grip tightened around her wrist. Compared to Seung-jo smiling as if nothing was wrong, Ji-eum’s face went completely stiff. Her heart still wasn’t fully sorted out, and now this…
Because of the height difference she carefully examined the top of Seung-jo’s brown hair as he bent his upper body. Along with his breathing, a familiar scent drifted to her nose. The lingering freshness of fabric softener mixed with sandalwood. The hand he held moved awkwardly in little jerks, making it hard.
“Got it?”
Seung-jo’s low voice sounded close. Ji-eum felt a tickle in her throat and moved her fingertips quickly.
“G-got it…!”
As if hiding her flushed face, Ji-eum stepped back and flicked the petal away.
“It was so tiny it was hard to grab. Th-there, you can go now.”
Seung-jo straightened up again and lifted just the corner of his mouth in a smile.
“Okay. I’ll head off.”
“Yeah yeah.”
Smiling brightly, Seung-jo turned away, then stopped as if something had occurred to him.
“Right. You don’t have any plans this weekend, do you? This week, or next.”
“Weekend? What’s up?”
“Nothing big. Hana really wants to see you. Make some time.”