summer has always been the hardest - johnny suh

2

"Solana! Wait up!"

I stop in my tracks, hearing the familiar voice, and sigh heavily. Why does he keep doing this? I turn to see John jogging toward me with that stupid grin plastered across his face, the one that's been following me since he spilled that Slurpee all over my sweatshirt last week.

"What do you want, John?"

He skids to a stop in front of me, slightly out of breath but still annoyingly cheerful. "I just wanted to talk. Maybe apologize for, y'know, ruining your favorite sweatshirt... again."

I fold my arms, trying to ignore the way his eyes brighten, like he's excited for a conversation I don't want to have. "You already apologized. And I accepted it. So... we're good."

He tilts his head, his smile faltering just a bit. "We are?"

"Yeah," I say, turning to walk away.

But, of course, he falls into step beside me, like he belongs there.

"So, how'd the dance tryouts go?" he asks, his voice full of genuine curiosity.

I don't know why, but it catches me off guard. "Why do you care?"

"Why wouldn't I?" He shrugs. "You said you were trying out. Thought you might want to talk about it."

"Not really." My answers are clipped, and I expect him to get the hint and leave me alone. But John's nothing if not persistent.

"I dance a little too, y'know," he says, like that little fact might somehow make me open up to him.

I look at him, eyebrows raised. "Really?"

"Yeah, hip hop, mostly."

I can't help it—I smirk. "I doubt it."

He laughs, a real laugh that surprises me. "You'd be surprised, Solana. I've got some moves."

"Uh-huh. Sure," I mutter, but there's a tiny part of me that's curious. Just a tiny part.

As we walk toward school, John keeps talking. It's mostly random stuff—how he used to get in trouble for practicing dance moves in class, how he works hard on his dancing every summer at a kpop company, how he once tripped during a school talent show performance. Somehow, he manages to keep me listening. I don't realize I'm starting to respond until I catch myself smiling at one of his dumb stories.

"So, are we friends yet?" John suddenly asks as we get to the school entrance, that grin back in full force.

I roll my eyes, though I can't deny he's been growing on me. "I don't know. Can you go a full day without annoying me?"

He looks mock-offended, pressing a hand to his chest. "I would never!"

I give him a half-smile, despite myself. "Okay, fine. Maybe we're friends. But don't push it."

John beams like I've just given him the greatest news in the world.

"Deal. And since we're friends, you should let me come to your next dance practice."

"Not a chance," I reply quickly, shaking my head.

"But friends support each other," he insists, giving me his best puppy-dog eyes.

I stop walking and turn to face him. "Friends also respect boundaries. And I'm pretty sure I've made mine clear."

John holds up his hands. "Okay, okay. No dance practices. But how about we grab lunch later? Strictly as friends, of course."

I narrow my eyes at him, unsure if I should give in. He's persistent, I'll give him that. And maybe, just maybe, I don't mind it as much as I did a week ago.

"Fine," I say, walking past him. "But only because you still owe me for the sweatshirt."

"I'll take it!" he calls after me, his voice full of victory.

As I make my way to my first class, I shake my head, trying to suppress the smile that threatens to creep onto my face. John Suh is... something else. And maybe, just maybe, having him around wouldn't be the worst thing.

Later that day, John and I sit across from each other at a booth in a small sandwich shop a few blocks from school. I'm still not entirely sure how he convinced me to come, but here I am.

"So, what's it like? Being on the dance team, I mean," John asks, taking a bite of his sandwich.

"It's a lot of work," I reply, fiddling with the straw in my drink. "But I love it."

His eyes light up again. "I bet you're amazing."

I shrug, trying to brush off the compliment. "I'm alright."

He leans forward, grinning. "No, really. I can tell. You've got that... fire in your eyes when you talk about it. It's kinda cool."

For some reason, his words make my heart skip a beat. I glance down at the table, feeling a little embarrassed. "You're weird, you know that?"

John laughs, leaning back in his seat. "Yeah, but I'm growing on you. Admit it."

I don't respond right away, but when I look up, he's watching me with that easy smile, and for the first time, I realize how comfortable I feel around him.

Maybe, just maybe, John Suh isn't so bad after all.