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Jihoon flicked a hand across a flaming strand. “What punishment did the vice principal give you today?”

“I had to kneel in front of the school this morning. Again.”

“You had to know you’d get in trouble for it,” Jihoon pointed out.

“You’re one to talk,” Somin retorted. “What are you going to tell your halmeoni if you get detention and the school calls her again?”

Jihoon’s easy smile disappeared at the thought of his grandmother’s reaction. Then he dismissed it. Concern took too much effort.

“You should care more. The school year is more than half over,” she said with a pointed look at the changing leaves of autumn outside. Jihoon usually loved fall because it meant winter was right around the corner and then school would end. At least until it annoyingly started up again in March.

“So?” Jihoon asked, though he knew what Somin was going to say.

“So next year is our third year.”

When Jihoon gave her a blank stare, she continued, “Our senior year and suneung exams. You’re the bottom-ranked student in the second-year class right now.”

“Someone has to be last when there are rankings,” Jihoon pointed out.

“Why is everything such a joke to you?” Somin asked.

“I’m not joking. I just—”

“Don’t care,” Changwan and Somin chorused.

Jihoon shrugged with a rueful smile. He knew everyone thought he was an affable guy with nothing much going for him. That’s how he liked it. The less people expected from him, the more they left him alone.

Somin was the only person in the whole school who continuously believed in Jihoon no matter what. Something he graciously forgave her for, due to their lifelong friendship.

“One of these days you’re going to find yourself in a situation even you can’t talk your way out of,” she said.

“When that day comes, should I take a page from your book and punch my way out?” Jihoon mussed her hair.

Somin slapped his hand away. “Like you could. Look at those weak sticks you call arms. The only time you lift your hands is to shove food into your mouth or wipe your butt.”

Changwan cringed. “Somin-ah, not very ladylike of you.”

“And when did I ever claim to be a lady?” Somin tilted her head. A tiger eyeing her prey.

“Never.” Changwan lowered his eyes.

As his friends continued to bicker, Jihoon laid his head down to take a nap.

•••

It was so late the sun barely lit the streets when Jihoon climbed the hill toward home, past the forest bordering town. The woods were welcoming during the day, frequented by hikers and families seeking a bit of nature in the bustling metropolis. At night, however, the branches looked more crooked and the leaves shivered from invisible beasts passing. Jihoon grew up beside this mountain forest, and he’d never dared set foot inside after night fell. A by-product of fables his halmeoni used to tell him of goblins and ghosts coming out at night to eat bad little boys.

“Late again, Jihoon-ah.” An old woman sat outside the medicinal wine store. Everyone called her Hwang Halmeoni. She was the oldest person in the neighborhood and claimed she’d stopped keeping track of her age years ago. Last she knew, she was ninety-two.

“It was a long day.” Jihoon gave her a wink.

“Studying or playing?” Hwang Halmeoni’s smile was knowing. She sat on a low wooden deck and peeled garlic into a bowl. The scent stung Jihoon’s nostrils.

“Playing.” He grinned. “Always.”

She clucked her tongue, popping a piece of raw garlic into her mouth. Jihoon hated eating it raw, though his own halmeoni said it was good for his health. Still, when Hwang Halmeoni held out her hand, he dutifully accepted a peeled clove.

“When are you going to make me the happiest man on earth and agree to marry me?”