Starry Night

eleven

"Which way, my man?" Bogum says to Jungkook, adjusting his backpack at the crossroad. "There's no sign."

"That's the literal definition of an unmarked trail," Jungkook says.

Bogum laughs. "Oh, yeah. I guess you're right. How did you even find this hidden waterfall, if the trail isn't marked?"

"I read about it. The waterfall isn't officially listed on park publications because there are bigger falls that are easier for the public to access from the main trails," Jungkook explains. "This one is inconvenient for the casual day-tripper. And when I originally found it, I was hiking from the opposite direction, so give me a second to find the southbound trail."

It's midafternoon. We waited until the last possible moment to leave, all of us loading up on sandwiches at the pavilion for lunch and filling up sport bottles with water. Then we had to hike back to Seolhyun's car and drive a couple hours on scary, twisting mountain roads to get to a national park parking lot. From there, we began hiking marked trails toward the waterfall.

And hiking . . .

We've spent three hours on the trail now. I've never walked so much in my life. But that's not my biggest worry. I'm starting to wonder how I'll manage to hike back on my own to catch a bus for the star party later this week.

This trail isn't supposed to fork east," Jungkook mutters to himself, examining a GPS map on his phone.

"How are you even getting a signal?" I ask. I've checked my phone several times along the way to make sure eomma got my last text explaining not to worry if she didn't hear from me for a few days. But nope. I might as well be holding a brick for all the good it's doing me.

"GPS runs independently of cell service," Jungkook explains. "All my digital maps are saved on my phone. But this one is glitchy. Sometimes you can't trust technology. Luckily, I have a backup." He puts away his phone and digs out a small leather journal, its black cover bulging. Where my journals are neat and slim, meticulously kept, his is . . . not. Removing an elastic band that keeps the pages closed, he opens it, and I spy a collection of things: folded paper maps, park brochures, and pages filled with Jungkook's distinctive block-letter handwriting and the occasional drawing - trees, wildflowers, trail signs, squirrels. I even catch a glimpse of what appears to be a rough anime-style sketch of Namjoon and Jin.

I think of all the maps he drew when we were kids. And the map he map made for me, sitting in the bottom of my drawer at home. And I feel a hard pang of nostalgia.

He's changed in so many ways. But not in this.

This is the Jungkook I used to know.

Jungkook catches me looking at his journal and quickly removes a folded-up paper map before shutting the cover with a forceful slap.

Silly to feel insulted. What's in there is none of my business. Not anymore.

He spreads the map over a large rock. Deciphering a tangle of topographic lines, he traces invisible paths with one finger. "Oh, wait. I understand now. Left. We go left."

"How can you even make heads or tails of that?" Bogum says. "Are you sure?"

"As sure as you were that a yurt was a urinal, Mr. I. P. Freely," Jungkook says, folding up the map and refiling it inside his journal.

"Low blow, Kook," Bogum says.

"I'm just saying, if you piss on my tent, there will be disabling body parts."

Bogum grins. "I love how gruesome you are."

"Turn left," Jungkook tells him in a calm voice, but his gaze is hard as steel. "We'll be there in an hour."