THE TRAGEDY OF YOUTH, jungwon ✓

05 | more distant

It was at the age of twelve that I noticed Jungwon seemed more—more distant. At first, I brushed it off; I had plenty of friends, and so did he. We couldn't constantly spend time with each other, could we? He had other friends he wanted to be with, and so did I. No big deal.

And perhaps that was a little naïve of me. But no one wants to believe the worst of their best friend at first. Nobody wants to believe the worst of the one they have feelings for at first. Not without concrete evidence. There may be a lingering suspicion, just floating their at the edge of your consciousness. But you always push it away. You don't want it to open your eyes to see the true colors of that person.

That lingering suspicion first appeared at the very edge of my mind one day at school. Jungwon and I always walked home together, as per our parents' orders, to keep us safe, according to them, from the usual horrors humanity loved to inflict on kids. Though I suspected it was mostly because Jungwon would protect me fiercely from anyone, and I was always rather small for my age.

That year, though, I was beginning to catch up to him in terms of height—and then he shot up again, which left me with absolutely no hope. Boys are almost always taller, a lot stronger physically, than girls. Maybe at one time I might have been taller, but I did miss my chance. Sadly.

The lingering suspicion seeded itself in my mind when I ran to the main entrance to the usual spot we always waited for each other. As our classes were on opposite ends of the building, and there was always a tidal rush of students weaving through the halls, there were many days where it took a little longer than expected to get to the main entrance. So we marked a spot where either one of us would wait for the other if they were late.

Jungwon was there when I arrived, talking to another boy I didn't recognize. That didn't bother me, so I waited a little distance off, letting him finish speaking to his friend. That didn't happen for a while, and I was about to go over and tap his shoulder when he did notice me, and his eyes widened.

"Yoora?" he asked when I approached. "You're not going home?"

"No, why would I be?" I tilted my head. "We're supposed to go together, remember?"

"I told you I was going with my friend today," he said. "I told your mom, too, and she said okay."

"Um, Jungwon...she meant to take your friend along with us," I reminded him. "There is no way she would let me go home alone. Even the two of us alone is a risk."

I didn't understand why he looked a little frustrated, and chose to ignore it. "Okay," he said. "Let's go."

So it was me, Jungwon, and his friend. Or, more accurately, Jungwon and his friend, an addition named Song Yoora tagging along. That was what it felt like to me. He was very preoccupied with his friend, the two of them talking and hardly taking notice of me. I'd never been caught in such an awkward situation before in my life.

Once, I asked Jungwon something when we were halfway home, and his answer was so short and brief and so unlike the cheery tone he was using to talk to his friend that it hurt. At the time, I scolded myself for being like that; Jungwon was perfectly entitled to talk to his friend and not me for once. He was and he still is, but what I didn't realize back then was that he didn't have to treat me that way. He didn't have to act annoyed.

So I kept to myself. Just a few steps behind them, staying silent and feeling both angry and sad. Jungwon glanced behind him once and saw me. I was looking at the ground at the moment, counting my steps, but I did see his shadow slow and turn a bit, heard his footsteps slow a little. I don't know what his expression was when he turned and I don't think I want to know, even now.

His friend broke away from us and entered a building when we about three blocks away from home, waving to Jungwon. He spared me a smile, startling me into returning it.

What was that for? I thought as he disappeared from sight.

"Why are you walking behind me?" Jungwon asked after a few steps.

I looked up. "I thought you were upset with me about something."

He shook his head. "No, I'm not," he said, giving me that cute smile. "Why would I be mad at you?"

"Well, it's just the way you responded to me..."

"Come on, I didn't mean that, I'm sorry," he walked towards me and took my hand. "I would never hurt you on purpose, you know that. I'm sorry that I acted like a jerk just now. Okay?"

I wavered between letting him stay miserable, just for a day or two, and forgiving him, as that would mean our friendship was completely normal. I knew he was sorry for how he acted, but I also knew that if I didn't let him know how hurt I was, he might just do it again and again.

So maybe I can say safely that half the mess in our friendship is my fault for never telling him how I was hurt by the way he acted. Because I just said, "it's okay," and left it that way. We walked home holding hands and talking and laughing, but a weird, heavy and intrusive feeling had settled itself in my stomach.

Every time I looked at Jungwon after that, for a long time, I couldn't shake it off.

Especially since he did again. And again. And again. Not in the same way as before; he did it in different ways, such as forgetting to stop by my place on the way to school. He once left for home before I got to the main entrance and I was so angry that I cried. He apologized to me later, and, like an idiot, I accepted it. Our parents never knew why I turned up at home by myself; we didn't want to let them know that I was angry with him for the first time in my life. We simply told them I let him go on ahead with a friend and that it was discussed and agreed upon.

After that, though, he began to pay more attention to me. Maybe because when he said sorry to me and looked at the ground, I started to cry again. I know he really did feel a whole load of guilt and regret, but the problem with him was that he was bad at keeping his promises. I should have tried to help him out with that; but of course, I never tried to correct him; I just let him go on and keep hurting me.

For a brief moment, it was as if nothing had happened. And then he started to disappear frequently. I mean that literally; sometimes he'd be gone for hours until late at night.

And he'd turn up at school late, looking exhausted. I was now going to school by myself, as it was close by and Jungwon's parents said he was busy with 'other things,' whatever it was. My parents weren't exactly happy. But they were working almost all the time and I assured them that I would be fine on my own.

"Where have you been?" I asked when we bumped into each other during lunch. "Why were you late? You didn't answer my calls last night. Come to think of it, you haven't been answering my calls this entire week!"

"I've been a little busy, I'm sorry," he said the first time. "I can't answer anyone's calls anymore, actually. How about I text you beforehand if I'm going to be busy?"

I stared at him for a long time, and then I said, "promise?"

"Promise," he said, and he did keep that promise diligently, and perhaps that was one reason I didn't think to confront him about anything. At least he kept that promise to me, and for the moment, that was enough for me. Even if my heart dropped every time I saw the message 'I'll be busy again tonight :( sorry!' and I sent back, 'that's ok' with a scowl of frustration, he wasn't lying to me.

But maybe he was, in a sense. Because I asked him multiple times over the next month or two what he was up to, why he was so busy, why he looked so tired, he refused to tell me or anyone else, even my mother. His parents were pretty secretive about it, too, and after a while, we just...gave up, my parents and I. What was the point in asking for something we would never get no matter how hard we tried?