Page 112 of The Way Back Home

The thought sends me into a spiral every time. Like stepping off a ledge into nothing. I exhale and watch the smoke curl upward and dissolve into the dark. I’ve been trying not to think about it, which means I think about it constantly. A void that opens up inside my chest every time I face it down, this gaping ugly emptiness that has no bottom. We’ve never been apart. Not once in eighteen years. He’s been the fixed point in my sky since the day we were born in that same back bedroom at Mrs. Nam’s, reaching for each other before we could even see straight. And now he’s going to Seoul, to his university, to the life he earned and deserves, and I’m going to be here. In this town. In this cycle.

I know who I am with Seyeon. I don’t know who I am without him. I’m not sure there’s anything there to find.

I’d never tell him that. Not in a thousand years. His parents broke themselves so he could have this. His mom worked until her hands cracked and her back curved and she smelled so permanently of doenjang that it clung to her skin even after she bathed. His dad put money away every month from a salary that barely covered their rent, building a future for his son one coin at a time and then dying before he could see it pay off. Seyeon studied until his eyes crossed and his handwriting turned to chicken scratch from exhaustion. He earned every word of that acceptance letter. I’d cut my own tongue out before I said anything that made him feel guilty for going.

Doesn’t make it feel less like dying, though. Slow and bloodless, a little more each day as the calendar pages turn.

Today especially. Seyeon took the bus to Seoul last night for some new student orientation thing. He’ll be back tomorrow. One night. That’s it. One night apart and I already feel like someone’s punched a hole clean through my lungs. I’ve been restless since he left, walking the streets with nowhere to go.

I look down at the pack in my hand. More than half gone since this morning. I’m going to smoke myself into an early grave at this rate. Fitting, maybe. At least it gives my hands something to do besides shake.

A light tap on my shoulder pulls me around.

Heetae stands there in dark jeans and a nice shirt, the collar popped just slightly. His hair is styled back and his grin is easy and warm when he sees me.

“Been waiting long?”

I shake my head, the cigarette still tucked between my lips as I pinch it out and flick the butt away.

“Nah. Was already out, figured I’d have a smoke.”

Heetae gives me a look, one eyebrow up, the corner of his mouth pulling. “Well then. Should we get going?”

I dip my head, my mouth curving. Heetae graduated two years ahead of me, but I remember him from when he was a senior and used to help with the incoming freshmen. Always nice. Always smiling at me in the hallways when most of the older kids didn’t bother. When we ran into each other in town a few weeks back, things just kind of unfolded. Natural and easy. He asked if I wanted to grab food. I said sure. One thing became another and now here we are, whatever this is.

He’s only an inch or two shorter than me, so we fall into step together comfortably as we walk down the hill toward the main road. Heetae bumps his shoulder against mine casually.

“What are you feeling? Noodles?”

I shrug.

“My treat this time,” he adds, he says it like he already knows I’ll try to argue. I don’t though.

“Sure.”

A couple hours later it’s full dark out. Heetae’s parents are out of town for the weekend, so we had the house to ourselves. I tug my shirt the rest of the way on in his dooryard, the cool night air drying the sweat on my skin. Heetae leans in the doorframe watching me, his cheeks still pleasantly flushed.

“Thanks for dinner, hyung,” I say as I step onto the street, straightening my collar.

Heetae grins. “Thanks for everything else.” He pushes off the frame. “Come on, I’ll walk you down to the corner.”

We lean close together as we turn into the alley between his street and the main road. The streetlamps are spaced wide apart here, pools of orange with long stretches of shadow between them. Halfway through one of those dark patches Heetae grabs my arm, tugging me around. He backs himself against the wall and pulls me toward him, one arm looping around my waist. His eyes catch a sliver of light, bright and warm.

“Hey. I had a good time tonight.”

I smirk, letting him keep hold of me. “Me too.”

“Let’s make it a regular thing, okay?”

I shrug. “Yeah, sure.”

He tugs me down to him and kisses me. His mouth is soft and tastes faintly like the soda he had after dinner. I kiss him back. I like Heetae. Enough to keep meeting him, at least. He feels good against me and he helps me take my mind off things and he’s not complicated. He doesn’t ask me questions I can’t answer. He doesn’t try to fix me. He just wants to spend time with me and that’s simple in the way almost nothing in my life has ever been simple.

Heetae pulls back, smiling up at me. His thumb traces a small circle on my hip bone through my shirt.

My head snaps toward the sound of crunching gravel. A figure at the mouth of the alley, backlit by the streetlamp on the main road. It takes all of two seconds to recognize the sloping shoulders, the gut, the uneven stance of a man who’s already been drinking for hours. The black plastic bag dangling from one fist, the clink of bottles unmistakable.

My stomach drops through the pavement.