Almost V

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The rest of my training is a blur. I'm not even sure how I managed to find my way back to appa's house. All I know is by the time Park Jinyoung walks in from work, I'm armed and ready with a memorized list of calm, collected reasons as to why I can't work at the Palace . . . which quickly degenerates into me pleading him to please let me quit. But he's not having it. Not even when I promise to apply for IHOP and bring us home free pancakes every day for life. "It's just a ticket booth, Giant Maknae," he says, shocked that I could be so scared about taking money from strangers. And whenI try to justify my bitter dislike of Taehyung, one of his brows is liefted by so much rising suspicion. "The boy we almost hit on the crosswalk?"

"I know right?" He remembers the drugged-out friend. He sees the light now.

Only, he doesn't. Things are now being said about how much trouble he went through to pull strings to get this job, and how bad it would be for me to quit so early, and how living out here isn't cheap, especially on a single parent's salary - one that isn't a lawyer's salary, like Eomma's - and that he'd like me to help pay for the insurance on the scooter and my cell phone bill.

"This is good for you," he says in a soft voice, squeezing my shoulders. He's still in his CPA uniform, not in one of his geeky T-shirts, so he looks like more of responsible adult at the moment. And I don't ever remember him being this decisive and firm. It's weird, and I'm not sure how I feel about it. It's making me a little emotional. "I know you don't believe me now, but you will. Sometimes  you have to endure painful things to realize that you're a whole lot stronger than you think."

Ugh. He's so earnest. I know he's talking about what he went through in the divorce, and that makes me uncomfortable. I blow out a deep sigh of a girl defeated and duck out of his kind fatherly grip in one smooth movement, instantly feeling relief.

Once i have time to think things over rationally, I understand where he's coming from . . . in theory. If the point of me sticking it out at the Palace is because I need to be bringing in my own paycheck and showing him that I can be responsible, I'll just ave to tough it out somehow. Figure out a way to see as little of Taehyung Kim as possible.

I might be an evader, but I suppose I'm no quitter. It's just a summer job anyway, right? That's what I tell myself.

Besides, I have other things to think about.

The next morning, I break out a map of Monetery the second Appa's car has driven off. Time to do a little detective work. The Palace didn't schedule me for my first real shift until tomorrow, so at least I have one day of rest before I'm forced to start serving my jail term. I'd already messaged V, but he doesn't answer right away. I'm wondering if that's because he's at day job. During the school year, he only works the day job after school, and every once in a while on the weekends. But now that it's summer, he said he's working there pretty much every morning, and clocking in at another job later.

My stomach goes erratic just thinking about it.

This is what I know about V's day job: I know that it's a family business, and that he knows it. I know that the business is on the beach, because he's said that he can see the waves from the window. I also know there's a counter, so obviously it's a retail business. A retail shop on the boardwalk. That narrows it to . . . I don't know, about several hundred stores? But two details that may help me pin him down are ones that seemed unimportant when he first mentioned them. First: He complains that the scent of cinnamon constantly makes him hungry because a churro cart is nearby. Second: He feeds a stray beach cat that suns itself outside the shop and answers to the name Yeontan.

Not a lot, but's smart.

After studying the map, I strap on my helmet and head down Big Hit Avenue toward the northern end of the boardwalk - opposite the Vogue Palace, a mile or so. Sunshine's burning through the morning fog, the air smells like pancakes and ocean. The beach is already crowded. Locals and tourists, freaks and geeks. They march through the boardwalk like ants on a picnic. The water's too nippy for swimming, but that doesn't stop people from lining the sand with blankets and towels. Everyone's ready to worship the sun.