Starry Night

eight

Since it's already late in the afternoon, there's no time to do anything before dinner. So the boys retreat to their tent, and we all unpack. I stash all of my food and toiletries in the food locker outside and check my telescope for visual damage; it seems to have survived the bumpy trip on top of the SUV and arrived intact. Then I try to call Eomma to let her know I arrived intact. But there's no service in the cabin. There's wifi at the lodge, so I go ahead and text - both to her and to Solbin - and trust that my messages will go through when I get a signal. 

Seolhyun disappears, so Hyejeong and I set out to explore the Camp Owl section of the compound on our own. There's a picnic table between our tent and the boys', and a small trailhead behind us, with a sign warning that the trail feeds into the national forest; Just Right Camping Compound absolves itself of responsibility should hikers choose to leave their property. A group of wild, unsupervised kids is running into the woods here, so it can't be all that scary.

We avoid the screaming kids and follow a trail: cream-colored rocks banded by the occasional flowering scrub and a steady line of path lights. The trail leads to a cedar-shingled bathhouse.

"Whoa," Hyejeong whispers when we peeked inside, and I'm feeling the same way. It's practically a spa, one that's themed to match our beautiful surroundings, and even nicer in person than it was in the online photos: stained wood countertops, stone benches, pretty lanterns hanging from hooks near the mirrors. Unlike our tents, there's electricity here and a woman is charging her cell phone while she blow-dries her hair. There's even a small sauna in the back.

"I'm getting naked with Minjun in that sauna later," Hyejeong tells me as we step back outside.

"Too much information," I say.

She laughs. "If you want to get naked with someone, I wouldn't care. Are you still hung up on Bogum?"

"Um . . ."

"He told me you guys hooked up."

What? "We didn't - not like that." It was just a kiss, forsake.

"You're so easy to embarrass," she says, smiling. "Did you know you ears turn red? That's so cute."

Aish.

"Hey, I was just teasing," she says, slapping my arm playfully. "Bogum's sweet. And I like how he's so cool with everyone. Like, I would never have hung out with Jungkook in a million years because I didn't know how cool he was."

I'm not sure how to take this. I think I understand what she's trying to say, and maybe there's a core of earnestness in there somewhere. But I still think she's also implying that Jungkook wasn't okay until Bogum decided he was.

"You and Jungkook used to be a thing, huh?"

My body stills. "Who told you that?"

"I just remember seeing you together at school all the time."

"We were just friends," I insist. "Nothing else."

Lie.

One that Hyejeong seems to buy. With a shrug, she says, "I think you guys would make a good couple."

"No," I say, and it sounds like a dog barking. "Absolutely not. We aren't even friends anymore."

She holds up both hands in surrender. "Hey, I only call 'em like I see 'em. Think about it, Miss Astrology."

I won't. And I don't bother to correct her again - not about her word mix-up or Jungkook. It's true that people at school used to tease us about being best friends - which was often said with a wink and air quotations - and rumors were spread that we were more. That's precisely one of the reasons we decided to conduct the Great Experiment privately. To avoid gossip at school. Mainly, though, to avoid my dad finding out. Because no way would Diamond Daniel allow his daughter to date the son of two males.