Legend [YEONBIN] ✓

sixteen ; yeonjun

I parked the newly fixed scooter in front of the convenience store. The chill of the late-fall night made my cheeks red, and I wanted something hot to drink.

To say my halmeoni was upset would be an understatement. But she’d needed to run the restaurant, so it had fallen to me to retrieve the scooter from the mechanic. The errand gave me a short reprieve from her wrath.

I lingered at the case that warmed individual cans of coffee, my thoughts on things other than the toasty drinks inside. Turning toward the cold drinks, I caught a glimpse of movement outside.

Like a vision called forth by force of will, Soobin sat at one of the plastic tables. His head hung low.

I walked out and settled into the chair across from Soobin.

“What are you doing here?” he asked without looking up.

“Just considering a nap, figured this would be a good place. You seem to have the same idea.”

“You’re hilarious.” Soobin’s tone clearly expressed he thought otherwise.

“I like to think so.” I leaned back. I noticed a manila envelope under his folded hands. “What’s that?”

“Nothing,” he muttered, pulling it to his chest before shoving it into an inner pocket of his jacket.

“Just so you know, I didn’t say anything,” I said. When he didn’t reply, I clarified. “To the police. In case you were worried.”

“You shouldn’t have covered for me.” He sounded more morose than mad. He looked deflated, like a sailboat on a still lake with no air to carry it. Not the Soobin I was used to.

“It’s what friends do.”

“Why do you insist on this? I never asked you to be my friend.”

“It’s not something you ask for. It’s just something that is.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“But you shouldn’t always have to.”

Soobin finally looked up, his eyes rimmed in red. He’d been crying.

“What happened?” I had never seen him distressed, let alone brought to tears.

“Nothing.” Soobin swiped at his dry eyes as he flushed.

“You don’t have to tell me anything.” I kept my expression neutral. “I’ll just take you home on my scooter. It’s getting late.”

Soobin let his head fall onto the table. I winced at the hard thud of his skull against the plastic.

“I can’t go home right now. She’ll know what I did.” His hands clutched at his blazer. I heard the crinkle of the envelope inside.

He was making no sense, but he rarely did. I had learned not to try too hard to figure out the puzzle that was Soobin. But I also believed I had only two choices when faced with another person’s misery: ignore it or try to fix it.

I stood and retrieved an extra helmet from the scooter, walked back to Soobin, and dropped it over his head.

“What are you doing?” Soobin tried to pull the helmet off but I held it in place until he gave up.

“We’re going for a ride. The air might help you clear your head. It usually helps me.”

“My mother says human only want one thing after dark,” Soobin said.

I choked in surprise. “Well, that’s what your mother thinks. What do you think?”

He blinked as if confused by my question.