“I want …”
What had she wanted? Fifteen-year-old Dahye pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, trying to remember. Alone in the darkness of her room, she had felt a sudden longing for her sister.
Dahye invaded Junyoung’s dreams with an intensity that caused him to jolt awake a full hour before his morning alarm went off. He blinked at the ceiling, trying to piece together what had happened: She had been naked, or close to it, anyway. They had been kissing. Kissing? At half-mast, he untangled himself from his sheets and lurched to the bathroom, where he leaned against the counter, staring at his reflection. Not bad, he thought, running his hand through his hair and flexing his pecs. His father had told him to do a hundred push-ups every night before he went to bed—a practice that only real men could do and one that Junyoung followed religiously. Over time, his scrawny shoulders and chest had gained some definition. He struck a few more poses, then got in the shower.
Today was the first day of his plan to make Dahye fall in love with him. He would learn everything about her. Her likes and dislikes. Her desires. Her fears. And her deepest, darkest secrets.He would uncover every stone. Illuminate every shadowy corner of her heart. He held his head under the stream of water, watching it run down the drain.
He was in the middle of combing gel through his hair when his bathroom door suddenly opened.
“Junyoung-ah,” his mother said tentatively, poking her head inside. “Can I come in?”
“I’m busy,” he said, annoyed. “I have to go to work. And can’t you at least have the decency to knock before opening the door? I could have been on the toilet. Or naked.”
Her chin quivered. She bowed her head in apology and brought her hand up to her mouth to cover it as she spoke. “You said you would take me to the dentist today,” she said quietly. “I scheduled an appointment. It’s this morning, at nine.”
Junyoung continued to comb his hair, saying nothing.
“Junyoung?”
“What kind of person are you?” he exploded, slamming the comb onto the counter. Several teeth broke off, sending slivers of plastic flying in every direction. “Why would you make an appointment without asking me? When you know I have to work? I have a serious job. You know I’m a very busy person!”
She stood in the doorway, looking at her feet.
“And anyway, why do you need me to go with you? You’re an old woman,” Junyoung retorted. “You’re far too old to be afraid of the dentist. Nowadays, even children go by themselves.” He picked up the comb and, seeing the broken pieces, felt his rage growing again. “Look what you did! Now I have to buy a new comb.” He hurled the broken piece of plastic into the trash can. “Cancel your appointment. There’s no point in going. Your teeth are awful. They’re practically rotting out of your head. What the hell is a dentist supposed to do about that?”
He elbowed past her, grabbing his backpack from beside the door. A quiet sob came from behind him. Junyoung smiled and, without looking back, walked out the door.
As always, he was the first to arrive at the office. He walked briskly past the security guards, down one set of stairs to the basement, and made it to his desk. It was quiet. Just to be sure, he peered into Kangmin’s cubicle and smiled when he found it empty.
Junyoung sat in his chair and spun around until he was dizzy. Out of breath, he turned to his computer. The bathrooms would be empty, of course, and he knew Dahye hadn’t yet arrived. But there was a fizziness in his blood, a tingle of anticipation. Leaning back, he waited, eyes glued to his screen.
A short while later, Dahye appeared. Junyoung sat up, suddenly alert. He followed her as she made her way through the building, switching from camera to camera. First, the lobby. Then the elevator. Through the fifth-floor corridor, all the way into the first stall in the restroom.
Junyoung was so engrossed that he didn’t hear the footsteps approaching his cubicle. By the time Kangmin’s voice drifted toward him, it was too late. Junyoung bolted upright, his erection instantly going soft. With a panicked flurry of keystrokes, he managed to close out of the window. Then he turned, his face flushed.
“Hey, man,” Junyoung said. His voice cracked. He cleared his throat and tried again. “You’re here early. Everything okay?”
Something unrecognizable flitted across Kangmin’s face. “Yeah. I need to catch up on a few things,” Kangmin said. “Figured I’d come in early, get a head start.”
Junyoung nodded, his smile frozen. Was he imagining it, or was Kangmin acting strange? A numbness began to overtake him. “Let me know if I can help,” he stammered.
“Thanks. I appreciate that, though I’m sure you have your own work to tend to.”
Your own work to tend to?What did that mean? As soon as Kangmin was gone, Junyoung slumped over in his chair. His back was sticky and damp with sweat. Burying his face in his hands, he tried to picture what his screen might have looked like the moment Kangmin had stopped by.
He saw everything, a voice in Junyoung’s head whispered.He knows. He’s at his desk right now, documenting everything. He’s going to tell Mr. Choi. You’ve been discovered. It’s over.
Chewing his lower lip, Junyoung quietly stood up to peer into Kangmin’s cubicle. Kangmin was hunched over his screen, but he wasn’t typing. In fact, he didn’t seem to be doing anything at all. He was simply sitting there, staring. Taking a deep breath, Junyoung sat back down.
It’s fine, he thought.If he asks, I’ll tell him I was in the middle of a movie.
And if he asks what movie?
He’s not going to ask.
He was too nervous now to keep watching. For the rest of the morning, Junyoung pushed Dahye to the back of his mind, busying himself with his reports. His plan was to walk by her desk just before lunch so he could casually propose that they eat together. But as he got up from his desk, ready to head to the elevator, he heard a sharp knock on his cubicle. He turned.
It was Dahye.