Starry Night

three

It's all I can think about. That evening, after Eomma returns from seeing Halmeoni in Gwangju and lets me borrow her car, I'm sitting inside the Daegu Observatory's dark auditorium for my monthly astronomy club meeting. Sometimes we head up to the roof with our telescopes, but this moth, it's an info-only gathering. And thanks to that Bahamas photo book, I'm paying zero attention to Dr. Choi, the retired teacher who's president of our local chapter. He's addressing the group - a couple dozen people, mostly other retirees and a handful of students my age - while standing at a podium near the controls that turn the ceiling into a light show of the night sky. I lost what he was saying a quarter of an hour back, something about where we were going to be watching the Perseid meteor shower.

Instead, my mind is stuck on that photo of my dad kissing that woman.

He lied to eomma. He lied to me.

And he forced me to lie, telling eomma that the Jeons hadn't received any of our mail, because no way was I handing over that ticking-bomb package of agony over to eomma. Not right now, when she's full of cheer and sunshine, encouraging me to on the camping trip with Seolhyun. Maybe not ever. I don't know. This will tear our family apart.

I've never been in this kind of position, being forced to decide where I should hide photos of my dad two-timing eomma. Or three-timing. Four-timing? What did that woman mean by "one of many"? The photos are from last summer, and I doubt this woman would want to call him out to his wife if she were still seeing him. So when did the affair end, and how many others were there? Are there?

Does he just pick up random acupuncturists from alternative health conventions?

Are they all local or overseas?

Do I know any of them?

Ugh. Considering all the possibilities hurts my brain. And what's even weirder about the whole thing is that the strange woman in the photos looks a lot like my birth mother. I mean, clearly it's not her, and this stranger is younger than my mother was when she died, but there's an uncanny resemblance. And that just freaks me out.

My dad is having an affair with someone who looks like his dead first wife. That's not normal.

What am I saying? None of this normal, no matter what she looks like. I think of Eomma smiling this morning, completely oblivious to the fact Dad's cheated on her, and it makes my stomach hurt all over again.

Thank God the normal clinic receptionist came in to take over for me at lunch, because no way could I handle looking my dad in the eye.

My stomach is sick. My heart is sick. Everything about this is wrong, wrong, wrong.

And the cherry on top of this shit sundae is that the Jeons know. Namjoon and Seokjin saw what was inside the envelope. They had to. I mean, judging from the awkward way they acted, and all that business about meeting for coffee if we ever needed to talk? It's hard for me to blame them for looking at the photobook. If they really did open it by accident, I'm sure the curiosity got the better of them. It did for me.

Huge mistake.

Oh, man. Does Jungkook know too?

"What's wrong?"

I snap out of my thoughts and realize the meeting has ended. The person speaking to me is a long dark hair girl sitting at my side. I've known Ahn Solbin as long as Jungkook and Seolhyun, when we first bonded over astronomy in the 7th-grade science class, both acing a quiz about planets. Solbin and I used to carpool to Seolhyun's house for sleepovers, staying up late to listen to music and gossip while her parents were asleep. But when I followed Seolhyun to the elite courtyard at school, Solbin stayed behind, secure with her social status. I always envied her confidence. Now the only time I really talk with Solbin is during astronomy club.