"Didn’t I tell you? He’s the worst!" Jinni was fuming as she sat cross-legged on my bed, binge-watching Penthouse with a passion, cursing at the characters as if they could hear her.
"It’s for adults," my mom commented as she passed by, her tone devoid of emotion, but her words carried the weight of every Asian mom warning ever given.
"Jin, don’t cuss," I parroted, knowing full well what my mom really meant. Jinni, catching on, clamped her mouth shut but rolled her eyes dramatically.
We hadn’t had a sleepover in ages, and I wanted to make it special—something fun to break the monotony of our lives.
"Pink shimmers it is!" Jinni announced, holding up the shiniest pink nail polish I owned.
"Let’s do matching!" I grinned, grabbing a silver shade just as sparkly. Pink and silver? Iconic.
"Oh my god, that’s so cute!" My mom reappeared, her eyes lighting up as she caught sight of us.
Before I knew it, she had joined us, picking out her favorite purple polish to match. "It’s so Christmas-y," she said, posing dramatically as I snapped a picture of her showing off her nails.
It was a rare moment of lightheartedness, one I desperately needed. But even as I painted my nails and laughed with Jinni and my mom, my mind drifted back to yesterday. My fingers subconsciously brushed against my wrist, rubbing the faint red marks still lingering there.
Niki’s anger had been palpable. The way he had pummeled Yichen was relentless, terrifying even. If I hadn’t stepped in, I wasn’t sure he would’ve stopped. The memory looped in my head, over and over, refusing to let me rest.
Why had he done it? What had pushed him to such an extreme? Those unanswered questions nagged at me, making it impossible to focus on anything else.
Jinni and my mom were chatting animatedly about something, but I couldn’t hear a word of it. My thoughts were too loud.
I needed to talk to him. The more I thought about it, the more I realized I wouldn’t be able to let it go until I got some answers.
The next morning, I rehearsed in my head how I’d confront him.
"So, tell me, why were you fighting?" Too soft. "Niki, why were you fighting with him?" Hmm, needs more authority. "Why were you fighting?" I tried to make my voice firmer, more demanding.
"Aw, babe, you look adorable," Jinni teased, breaking my concentration.
"Jinni! Oh my gosh, forget it!" I groaned, flopping onto the bed in defeat.
Even so, I kept running the scenario in my head, through the car ride to school, during lectures, and finally during the break. That’s when I saw him.
Determined, I walked toward Niki, ready to confront him, but before I could get close, a hand clamped around my wrist, yanking me back.
"Ow!" I winced, startled by the tight grip. I turned to see Sunwoo standing there, his eyes narrowing as he noticed the red marks already on my wrist.
"Huh? So it’s true. You like him, don’t you?" he sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. "Did you hear? Yichen’s so beaten up he can’t even attend lectures."
"Not like he ever did," I muttered under my breath, annoyed.
"What was that?" Sunwoo tightened his grip, making me hiss in pain.
"Let me go, Sunwoo," I said, my voice shaking despite my effort to sound strong.
He smirked, clearly enjoying my discomfort, until suddenly, his grip loosened. I glanced up and saw Niki standing between us, his face expressionless but his presence menacing.
"Oh, it’s you," Sunwoo scoffed, crossing his arms but taking a step back.
"You never learn," Niki said, his voice low and cold, making the tension between them almost unbearable.
Sunwoo, clearly unsettled, tried to regain control. "Look at your so-called crush. So violent. I thought you didn’t like violent people. Guess he’s just a thief—stealing secondhand, used goods."
The words hit like a slap, but before I could fully process them, my hand moved on its own, leaving a resounding smack across Sunwoo’s face.
"Sunwoo, you are the sore loser," I said, my voice shaking with fury. "You’re the insensitive one who thinks cheating and hooking up is fun. You’re the violent one who can’t talk to me without hurting my wrists. So stop projecting your flaws onto others!"
Another slap followed as I struck him again, harder this time.
"And that was for calling me ‘used goods’ and Niki a thief."
Before I could continue, Niki grabbed my arm, pulling me away from the scene.
As he led me down the hall, the whispers and murmurs of the bystanders made me realize just how loud the confrontation had been. My heart pounded as I tried to process everything that had just happened.
Niki didn’t say a word, and I wasn’t sure if I was angry, embarrassed, or relieved. One thing was certain—things between us weren’t over yet.
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