Page 27 of The Romance Rivalry

Thirteen unrequited love

My mental checklist is all over the place.

It’s Parents Day and my mom and dad should be here any minute, but I still feel like I have a shit ton to do to make it perfect

for when my folks get here. They have to see how great life is for me at Brighton. I am a Successful College Student. Something

to define me in their eyes. Which means I’ve had to get a lot of smoke and mirrors in place.

There’s also the very huge distraction of Aiden Jeon taking up much of the space in my brain right now. I’ve replayed the

kiss in my head over and over, as well as rewound the bits leading up to it again and again. The conclusion? Ask me again

in ten minutes, and my answer will likely be different. But for now, he’s no longer in the Enemies category. He’s still got

one foot in the Rivals camp. And as far as Lovers go? My entire body shivers.

I shake my head to try to jostle all these thoughts free and push them to the back—I have more important things to do right now.

I tug at the sheet at the corner of my mattress once more, tucking it under to make sure that it’s just perfect. I stand up

and examine my work and decide to give it one last tug.

“Are you sure you don’t come from a military family?” my adorable roommate asks me.

“I just need the room to look perfect.” I look over at her bed, yet to be made, and frown. “Don’t you have to use the restroom

or something?” I ask.

“You’re thinking of making my bed while I’m gone, aren’t you?” Jeannette looks at me with an expression akin to horror at

just how meticulous I’m being. “But your parents don’t care about my bed. I don’t even think they care about your bed. So

what’s the big deal?”

I’ve already been a nervous ball of energy for weeks leading up to today. But after my FaceTime with them last week, I’m almost

afraid to see my parents. Like they’ll be able to read on my face every untruth I’ve told them.

It’s the first time my parents are coming to visit me since the day I moved in, filled with hope and expectations of what my experience in college would be. And now, a couple months later, here I am, struggling with my classes. I’m not in any clubs—I’ve been so busy with the plan that I haven’t even been back to book club. And I’m still, technically, without a boyfriend, at least officially. More like in a situationship. I’ve got one new best friend, more than I’ve had since high school. At least there’s that. “I just don’t wanna be a disappointment,” I whisper.

“That’s impossible. Your parents love you,” Jeannette reminds me. Things are so simple for her. Her family is filled with

joy and laughter. Her dad and her brothers call her all the time. She works her ass off so that she can accomplish what they

as a group have determined. I, however, am the middle child who hasn’t really done anything and has continued to try to impress

my parents by doing all the things they want from me... and failing.

“Oh shit, I forgot to go and get the sparkling water to fill the fridge. My mom really likes that stuff.” I change the subject

in my own head.

“Irene, we can all go down to the cafeteria together and get it. Your dad will love going to visit the cafeteria. Just relax,

sit down. They’ll be here any minute...”

And right on time comes a knock at the door.

“Hello?” My mom’s smiling face peeks in with my dad standing right behind her.

“Irene, it’s so good to see you. Look at you, honey. Did you gain a little weight?” my mom asks. She loves me. She does this.

It’s a Korean thing.

“Mom, at least I haven’t gained the freshman fifteen. There’s that,” I say.

She laughs and throws her arms around me. “Oh, we’ve missed you so much.”

“How’s my Brighton girl?” my dad asks as he walks into the room, stiffly wrapping an arm around my shoulders and doing the

requisite three pats. He’s never been a very good hugger. Part of his charm. “And Jeannette, it’s good to see you again.”

“Hello, Mr. Park. So good to see you, too.”

“Your dad isn’t here yet?”

“No, he’s gonna be a little bit late. There was traffic on the way,” she explains.

“Yes, we did a roundabout. I know this area like the back of my hand, so I know all the shortcuts.” There’s Dad again. Livin’

those glory days of when he was at Brighton.

“So what’s the first thing on the agenda here for Parents Day?” Mom asks.

“Uh, we’re gonna have to all go into the lecture hall and do a mock orientation for you guys, and then you’ll be separated

into some groups without us kids to take a tour,” I explain.

“Mr. Park, you could probably give the tour yourself,” Jeannette says.

“Hell yeah, I could, Jeannette. Good call. Should I ask them if I can replace the tour guide?” he says eagerly.

“Dad, just relax and enjoy yourself with the other parents, please,” I beg. I do not want my parents drawing attention to me this weekend. I don’t need anyone coming over and slipping truths about my life here to them.

Mom grabs my hand and pulls me over to my desk, pretending to be very interested in the pencil collection. She leans in and

whispers, “So, are there any special someones we should be meeting? And maybe other parents of special someones?”

I stiffen and immediately remind myself to relax. Mom is like a hawk, catching every clue if she’s on alert that I’m hiding

something. Last thing I need is for her to pick at a loose strand and have my entire facade of college life unfurl.

“Mom, it’s been two months.” I see her hopeful expression falter. My heart drops along with all her hopes and dreams for me,

her “other” daughter. It feels premature to mention Aiden at all, despite the fact that he’s all I’ve been thinking about

recently. But if I throw her a bone and hint at some romantic entanglement, maybe she’ll be too distracted to look at all

the other things. “Not hardly enough time to whittle down all my choices. But there might be someone pulling ahead of the

pack.” I nudge her shoulder, putting on the well-practiced expression I use when a book I’ve read doesn’t quite work for me

but I want my followers to believe otherwise.

The sparkle returns to my mom’s eyes, and she clasps her hands together toward her chest. She opens her mouth to respond,

but I put my finger to my lips and wink, as if it’s our little secret instead of just my not-so-little lie.

But we’re all standing in a one-hundred-square-foot room where whispers are essentially shouts and nobody’s business remains a secret.

“What’s this I hear?” Dad’s voice breaks through my lie-induced haze. “My baby girl has a college boyfriend?” He uses an I’m-gonna-kill-that-boy

voice, but the excitement at being included in the gossip betrays him.

I sneak a peek at Jeannette, whose eyes are big as saucers. She tucks her lips between her teeth and shrugs her shoulders.

I’m on my own. Traitor.

“Boyfriend is a bit of an overstatement, let’s get real. I mean, I didn’t have a boyfriend for four years in high school and

you think it’s suddenly gonna happen in two months?”

“I told you, Brighton makes a boy into a man. A man can step in and woo a young lady with just a wink and a smile,” Dad says.

I hold back my response. No reason to get my dad worried that the type of guys he’s describing could be serial heartbreakers

or likely incarcerated soon.

“Well, I’m sure that Irene has been focusing on her studies. She finally gets to be taking literature classes and taking those

steps to becoming an editor. This is all so very exciting,” Mom says.

It’s like we haven’t moved forward in two months. These are the same conversations we had before I even started college. Their hopes and dreams, their plans, all squarely on my shoulders.

But it also feels like I’m a totally different person, that I’ve completely changed. I don’t know how to explain that to my

parents. I wonder: As we spend some time together today, will they notice? Or maybe I haven’t actually changed at all.

“Jeannette, we’re gonna go and take off and get some seats in the lecture hall. Do you want us to save some for you and your

dad?” I ask.

“That’d be great,” she says. “We’ll see you there.”

“Okay. Sounds good.”

And I lead my parents along the way.

“That’s where I sometimes sit to have lunch,” I say, pointing to a spot in the quad where I’ve never once sat to each lunch.

“Yes, I used to spend time out here in the quad myself,” Dad says, clearly pleased I’ve followed in his enjoy-the-quad lifestyle.

“And this is my favorite of the three libraries on campus,” I say as we pass Central Library. Still not my favorite, but the

one Aiden loves to meet at.

“I love libraries! All those books! Tell me, do you just walk up and down the aisles and touch the spines? It sounds like

the most wonderful way to spend the afternoon,” Mom says dreamily.

I don’t mention how the library reminds me so much of Aiden and the deep and vulnerable conversations we’ve had there together. It feels special, like our hideaway. “Yes, gotta love all those spines,” I say.

The lecture hall is pretty packed when we arrive and finding five seats together is an impossible task. I point to four seats

in a row and tell my parents to sit down and save the other two for Jeannette and her dad. I can stand off to the side during

the presentation. But as they make their way down, I notice who else is seated in that row... Dr. Kingston, the one person

I was hoping to avoid today. I scan the room for any escape route. I see the red fire alarm and wonder if there really is

a fine associated with pulling it falsely. I look at the stairs running the length of the lecture hall seating and wonder

how much damage would be done to my young and quick-to-heal body if I purposely rolled down them to distract everyone. I clock

the microphone sitting in its stand at the front of the room and consider belting out the latest TWICE song to drown out any

conversation that could be had between my parents and the professor of the class I should not be failing... and yet, tragically,

most definitely am.

Time seems to slow as I watch my mom turn her head to the person next to her, huge smile on her face, ready to meet a “new

friend,” as she calls anyone who she’s first introduced herself to.

Tap tap tap . My mom’s head turns quickly to face forward for the announcement. “Welcome, everyone, to this year’s Brighton College Parents

Day,” a cheerful voice comes through the speakers. Saved by the overeager, and ever-punctual, freshman class president...

for now.

Jeannette sneaks in and stands next to me as her dad crouches and excuses himself down the row and sits next to my parents.

He is a very big man, so it’s difficult for him to squeeze through. Jeannette’s eyes widen when she sees my face. “What? Something

terrible happened already?” she whispers.

I cock my head in the direction of our parents and her eyes scan the row. They grow comically large when they land on Dr.

Kingston sitting next to my mother. “I’ll block everyone as soon as we’re excused so you can have a straight shot down there

and grab your parents. Maybe you can distract them before any introductions have to be made.”

I give her a sad smile, appreciative of her efforts. If only the Brighton gods were so kind.

“Um, Dr. Kingston, these are my parents,” I say, unable to hide my complete dread at making the introduction. Despite Jeannette’s valiant effort, I was unable to reach my parents before they made contact with my professor. As soon as the information session was over, it was as if my mother couldn’t help herself. She immediately turned and reached out her hand to the man sitting next to her, making it impossible for me to ignore them all now as they make their way up to where I’m standing by the exit.

“Mom, Dad, this is Dr. Kingston, my, um, Intro to Lit professor,” I mumble.

“Hello, John Park. I’m a Brighton alum, and father to this brilliant young lady right here. Nice to meet you.” Bury me now.

“Oh, Dr. Kingston, it is such a pleasure to meet you. My name is Jennifer Park. I’m Irene’s mother. I’m a fervent and prolific

reader, much like Irene, and thank you so much.” She hasn’t let go of his hand in minutes, hours maybe. “You are helping make

all of her dreams come true. Being at a top-ranked school like Brighton, studying literature, becoming a future editor one

day, moving toward her goal, this is all so wonderful.” My mom finally lets go of his hand in order to clasp both of hers

in front of her chest once again, like she’s about to explode with pride. My face turns as red as a tomato, but my discomfort

is unmatched compared to the plastered-on smile and sympathetic eyes of Dr. Kingston.

“Irene as an editor...” He looks to me and back to my mom and back to me. My eyes are pleading with him to play along,

to tell them I’m the best student he’s ever had, to basically lie for me.

“Why, yes, it’s her lifelong dream. Has she told you how passionate she is about literature? She also managed to turn her love for books into a wonderful hobby on the internet. Even some of the young people from our church have seen her videos. She’s so humble. I know she’s likely the best student in your class, but doesn’t make herself stand out,” my mom responds.

“Oh, well, she is definitely a pleasure to have in class.” Nice, Dr. Kingston. Keep it simple. No need to overshare.

“She just loves, has always loved, to read. So it is a natural progression that she’d become an editor one day. The best use

of her talent. Don’t you agree?”

Dr. Kingston looks my way and gives me a pitying smile. He sees her delusion and, in turn, my impossible situation.

“Okay, Mom. Now that you’ve been introduced, we should let Dr. Kingston be on his way. He’s very busy. I don’t wanna bother

him. I’m so glad you all got a chance to meet.” I push my parents out the door. “Dr. Kingston, see you in class.” I give him

an apologetic look and turn to leave.

Great. I’m gonna be called into his office, again, to explain myself. Because from what he can tell by my poor effort in class,

number one, I do not love studying literature. Once I’m told I have to do something, it takes away from the joy of doing it.

And number two, with my grades, there is no way I’m gonna make it through this entire program to one day be hired as an editor.

And all of that has been made clear in just two months.

I grab my phone and type a quick message to Aiden.

Me: Kill me now. My parents just met Prof King. It was brutal.

The urge to tell him something else, right now, something to help me forget this awkward Parents Day and focus on something

good, hits me. My fingers start moving of their own accord.

Me: Also, hi, I miss you.

I quickly backspace and delete. Too much, too soon. Oh god, what if I’d accidentally pressed send instead? THINK before you

type, Irene.

Me: Also, hi, when can I see you.

My face immediately reddens. Are you kidding me? Don’t be such a dork. Delete, delete, delete.

I look down at the blinking cursor, waiting for my words. Also, I think about you all the time. Also, are we dating? Also, am I your girlfriend? Also, are you feeling everything I’m

feeling? Also, am I delusional? All the things I want to say, to ask him, to tell him, but just... can’t. I need to stop overthinking it.

I quickly type the same text he sent me the other night. Lighthearted. Make it into an inside joke. Easy. Nothing that will

put me in over my head. And press send.

Me: Also... wanna make out? ?

He might not get it. He might not think it’s funny. But it’s the most I can give him. I want to be more honest, both with Aiden and with my parents. And in every area of my life. For now, I’m just too exhausted and raw from juggling all the untruths I’ve wound together to make the false narrative of my life.

For now, I just want to laugh and be with Aiden.

I wait one second to see if he responds. But the messages do not show as read. So I pocket my phone and get back to my parents.

The day is jam-packed, filled with activities for my folks. In the brief moments that I have to myself, I check my messages

again. My finger hovers over the keyboard. I wanna ask Aiden if he’s doing okay. I want to ask him how he’s spending his day.

I think twice and put my phone away without sending another message. He’s probably keeping busy and hasn’t had the chance

to read my texts. I don’t want to flood his inbox with more and be irritating.

Who knew I’d end up being so needy and codependent the moment I started having feelings for someone. Maybe it’s a good thing

I waited this long to date.

“You okay?” Jeannette asks me. Our parents are on their campus tour, so we’re at the ice cream shop killing time with about

one hundred other freshmen, all waiting on their folks.

“Just thinking...” I say.

She raises her eyebrow at me, letting me know she’s listening if I want to share.

“When Aiden mentioned that I was not genuine online, that I was acting a part, I felt offended. But I realized he’s right. I have been doing that my entire life, being the dutiful middle daughter to my parents, trying to do the things that would make them happy so that I would have a position in our family. Being just the right kind of romance reviewer online, having a persona that is not distasteful to anybody. Looking to find a perfect guy so I can be the perfect girlfriend and fall in love... and all of that is just exhausting.”

“Maybe you don’t have to try so hard,” she says. “Maybe you can just let yourself believe that your parents and your friends

and your online community will love you for who you are. And so will the right guy. You need to be honest with yourself, and

honest with those around you.”

I know Jeannette is right. I just don’t know if I can be.

“I wasn’t honest with my parents today about how hard college has been for me. I haven’t been honest with my professor, who

now believes I have aspirations for something I have no talent for, and probably thinks this is going to become his burden.

I haven’t been honest with my followers about how I’ve been in a bit of a book funk. Nothing really has been interesting me.

And I haven’t been honest with Aiden about how I’m scared to death to move forward in whatever it is we’re doing without some

clarity.”

“Well, it sounds like you’ve just been honest with me and yourself. Now you just have to tell them.” She nods in the direction of outside and I see that our parents have all arrived, finished with their tour. My mom and dad wave at me through the window with embarrassingly huge grins on their faces.

God, I love them.

College was supposed to be a time for me to start over and find myself. To leave behind the person that I was as a kid and

decide who I want to be moving forward. I thought that was gonna be a girl with a boyfriend. I thought that was gonna be a

girl studying to be an editor and excelling, and now with my parents here, it’s clear I’m the same person behind the same

mask.

I always thought making them happy was the way to show them my love. But maybe it’s figuring out what actually makes me happy,

figuring out what I truly want and following my own dreams, that will show them how much they mean to me.

But what if being honest with my parents ends up disappointing them?

And what if being honest with Aiden ends up pushing him away?

I look back down at my phone like it’s a drug I can’t stay away from. Still no response.

Maybe honesty is just... overrated.