Jihoon took a steadying breath, then finally tore his gaze away from his shoes and looked at me, the bright edge of the waning summer sun glowing in his round glasses. “Because, Mina,” he said, “I like you.”
The smile that broke across my face wasn’t a lie, even if the reason behind it was.
One hundred points, I thought as I dropped my gaze to Jihoon’s lips. I was 124 points away from a promotion. Crossing the threshold would put me in the running for an associate agent position after graduation. Associate agents didn’t have to pack up and move countries at a moments’ notice like my parents, who were only floating agents. Real agents could have homes, build lives, use their real names.
I opened my mouth, about to say something nice and normal likeI like you too, but the words died in my mouth when I saw what—who—was behind him.
“No,” I whispered.
“No?” Jihoon said, going pale.
I shook my head quickly. “No, I didn’t mean… I just meant…”
I was being too obvious, staring over his shoulder with panic written plain across my face. He started to turn around, which was the absolute worst thing he could have done. If he saw who I was looking at, I’d have to convince him to follow me to the office, where he’d get waterboarded with condensed magic until he lost his memory of the last day, and then he’d definitely fail his calculus test tomorrow.
“No, don’t look!” I said, reaching for his arm.
But instead of stepping to the next stone, my foot slipped off theedge. My stomach lurched, and I slipped headfirst into the shallow water.
Jihoon reached for me, his fingers brushing my arm as I fell. Of course, he had absolutely no balance because of the double-sided-turtle-backpack situation, so rather than catching me, he crashed down on top of me with the combined weight of both of our bags.
My face bit down into the gravelly river bottom. I reeled back and frantically shoved him off me, for a moment genuinely afraid I would drown in the most embarrassing way possible. Distantly, I registered the bag of honey butter chips popping under my stomach, spilling into the water. I stumbled to my feet, my face numb from the impact, my teeth sore. The small amount of eyeliner I’d decided to risk wearing that morning was now running down my face, and my wet shirt was almost definitely see-through.
I clapped a hand to my pocket, where my small box was thankfully still sealed shut. I pulled out my phone, which had already gone full brick mode, the screen not responding at all to my touch. And my backpack…
“My backpack!” I said, tugging at the straps. It was still latched firmly to Jihoon, who flopped back and forth as I pulled, his glasses splotched with water droplets.
“What?” he mumbled.
“You’re getting my bag wet!” I said, pulling harder. “My calculus notes—”
He bent his arm so I could slide the bag off his front, then rose unsteadily to his feet. I turned my back to him, slamming the bag down on one of the stepping stones. Water had soaked through the bottom, so I yanked out my notebook and tried to shake it dry.
“Mina, are you okay?” Jihoon said behind me.
I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak. I was already pitifully behind on calculus compared to my classmates, thanks to a few unfortunately timed years of American education. Korean andJapanese students did this kind of math in their sleep. My parents had pulled enough strings to get me into this school, and if I flunked out or had to repeat a year, I could kiss all my pending infiltration missions goodbye. Descendants were supposed to be exquisitely unmemorable, blending seamlessly into whatever situation they fell into. Getting booted for being the oldest and least intelligent girl in year three would definitely not impress my superiors.
I needed to excel wherever the descendants put me, or else I’d never have access to the files that would tell me the truth.
“Mina?”
The ink from my ruined notes ran down my wrist, staining the sleeve of my school shirt. Slowly, I looked up and locked my gaze with the person standing in the alley, shooting as much anger as I possibly could into my glare. Even as she stared impassively back at me, the anger flickered out quickly. She was only doing her job.Ourjob.
A glimmer of white beneath the water caught my eye. Jihoon’s bracelet sat among the gravel and dirty water, but I didn’t move to pick it up. It was a bad idea to trust someone like me with beautiful things.
“I have to go,” I said, turning back to Jihoon. “I need to run home and change before my after-school class.”
“I can walk you there!” he said, squinting at where he guessed I was standing, since his glasses were still in his hand.
“No!” I said—too loudly, making him flinch. “I mean… no, please, I already feel so embarrassed.” This part wasn’t exactly untrue, but there were bigger problems than embarrassment right now. I reached out and touched his hand. “Can we finish this conversation later?” I said, smiling in a way I hoped looked sweet even when I felt like a drowned puppy.
“Okay,” he said, nodding eagerly. “Whatever you want, Mina.”
But I didn’t want this—hurting Jihoon, fleeing from every goodthing, either because I ruined it myself or because I had to move again.
If I wanted to, I could quit my job when I turned twenty, and it would only cost me a hundred pages of paperwork and a thorough mind scrub. I could be a normal girl, holding hands with Jihoon right now instead of pushing him away.
But I would never do that.
