Page 56 of Free Fall

I again indicate the bag I’d stashed at the top earlier in the day.

“In there. There’s a rechargeable lantern-bug-zapper combo-thingy.”

Sejin hums as he sets it up a slight distance from the camp, drawing the bugs away from us. The first zap sounds, and he pumps his fist. “Yes. Die, fucker.”

I smirk as I start cooking our meal. Nothing fancy, just some canned spicy vegetarian chili, but I know from experience it’s plenty tasty, especially when camping. There’s something primally comforting in spooning hot, spicy food into your mouth while taking in the pitiless stars, so cold and distant.

Or maybe that’s just me, but I can’t imagine Sejin is going to complain. He doesn’t seem like the fussy sort.

“Mosquitoes love me,” Sejin says as he comes over and squats beside me, watching as I stir the pot over the camp stove. “I get enormous welts from them. Always have. I read somewhere once, back when I was still in college, that lots of kids who’ve been adopted from other countries have that reaction to American mosquitoes. There’s a theory that human bodies become biologically adapted to the mosquitoes from the area where our ancestors are from so they don’t react as strongly to the mosquitoes from those areas. But if we move or are transplanted, then our bodies react super-strongly to the mosquitoes native to the new area because we don’t have the resistance built in for it.”

“Huh,” I say. “Did you react more or less strongly to the mosquitos back home?”

“In West Virginia?”

“Yeah.”

“The same. There’s been no big change. It’s not like it’s worse since I moved out here to California.”

Sejin settles in next to me, and I want to scoot closer so I can feel the heat of his body alongside mine, but I stay where I am for now, intent on making sure I don’t burn the chili. I did that once, and it’d tasted pretty foul.

“But it’s all anecdotal as far as I can tell,” Sejin goes on. “I mean, I’m not sure if there’s any actual science to back it up. Plus, it was forever ago that I read it. I don’t even remember if I saw it online, like on Tumblr or something, or in a research journal for my studies.”

“What were your studies?”

“Psychology, and then Education—enough hours to get the certifications I need to work with kids—and then I dropped out.”

“Ah.”

“How about you? Any college?”

“No.” I shake my head.

“Just high school then?”

I laugh. “Not even.”

“Really?”

I shrug. “What’s the point of it all anyway? I got what I needed from school, which wasn’t much, and went on my way.”

“Huh.”

He sounds skeptical, so I say, “Don’t get me wrong, education is important, but how that education is achieved isn’t.”

“Except when it comes to applying for jobs. I don’t know how many listings I’ve seen that require a B.A. at a minimum and grad school if you want something that pays decent.”

“Jobs schmobs. The whole thing is a scam.”

Sejin laughs. “Spoken like the true rebel I suspected you would turn out to be.”

“It’s not about being rebellious. It’s about time and how little of it we have in this life. Why waste it doing things that are pointless and useless?”

“High school is pointless and useless?”

“It can be. Just consider…when’s the last time you solved a geometry proof in your life? When’s the last time you needed to know the name of every element? When’s the last time all those years spent at those desks, being spoon-fed information that you’ll never need, felt worthwhile? Isn’t there something you would have rather been doing? Listening to KPop or traveling or something?”

Sejin stares at the fire in the stove and then nods. “I’d have spent more time with my mom.”