Love Me Once Again

Three

Year 2002

"We have a transfer student joining us in our final year."

I stood outside the door, looking in at the homeroom teacher as he announced to the class. His name was Mr. Go, I think.

"She is from Singapore and she speaks very good English. So for those of you looking to improve your English, you can consult her," he chuckled. It sounded forceful to me, though. I was aware that high school Korean students weren't as fluent in English. After all, English wasn't their first language. I was more worried for myself. My Korean wasn't bad, but to be doing all my subjects except English in Korean would be a great challenge. The principal seemed to think that based on my results from my junior college, I should find it pretty easy here. I, on the other hand, wasn't so confident about that.

Mr. Go had stopped talking, and he turned to give me a nod; his signal beckoning my entrance.

I took in a deep breath. Well, here I go.

I picked up my reluctant feet and walked into the classroom. I did not look at any of the faces until I was standing beside Mr. Go and finally turned to face the class. About thirty pairs of eyes looked back at me. Their eyes were full of curiosity. I swallowed nervously.

It was very rare for a transfer student in the final year of high school. People didn't transfer schools at this stage if they could help it. It was very disruptive to the learning. The final year was a very critical year for entrance into college.

If I were still back in Singapore, I would have been in my second year of junior college, also preparing for university.

But one month before Christmas, my parents sat me down and solemly informed me that they were getting a divorce. Within a month, a whirlpool of events had taken place. Mom decided to go Myanmar for her charity work. Dad chose to return to Korea only to be posted to Johannesburg for work. I could go neither place, and I couldn't stay in Singapore alone, so I was sent to Dad's mom in Seoul. I wasn't unfamiliar with her because we would visit her during every chuseok, but I wasn't close with her either.

So, I had to withdraw from school, packed my bags, and moved to Seoul, leaving behind all my friends. Was I happy about it? I was furious. But my parents were not here for me to vent my anger on. We went to the airport on the same day but for three different destinations. When I arrived in Seoul, this elderly woman was waiting for me with a big smile on her face to welcome me. How could I possibly vent my anger on her..

They managed to find me this school, which apparently for a neighbourhood school, was quite a good one. And it was just a few bus stops away from Grandma's house.

Grandma owned a house, not an apartment, though it was a small one. She had a shopfront downstairs selling tteokbokki - the Korean spicy rice cakes that I loved.

I looked at the classroom of unfamiliar faces staring back at me, and I felt like crying. I wished that I wasn't here. And at the moment, I hated my parents for putting me through this, just because of their selfishness.

"Why don't you introduce yourself?" Mr. Go promptly me kindly. He was a burly man but short. He had a pair of bright eyes, and the corners of him mouth always seemed to want to curve up into a smile. I guessed he was in his forties.

"Hello. My name is Hanna. Hanna Lee."

"We don't use English names here... you have a Korean name, right?"

Why did it have to be so troublesome? I preferred my name to be Hanna Lee, than what Lee Hyo-ri.

I frowned.

"Yes," I mumbled. "Lee Hyo-ri." The name sounded foreign on my tongue.

"Alright! Hyo-ri, you can sit -" he paused as he searched around for an empty seat. "There. Behind Hae-e. Hae-e is our class rep." A pretty girl smiled at me. I walked towards the empty desk.