After (Jikook version)

Chapter 44

Jungkook ends up driving us to Bob's, and I thank him. Bob ends up being a short, sweaty, and over gelled man who smells like nicotine and leather and whose smile is punctuated with a gold tooth. While he talks to me, Jungkook stands nearby, making faces when he isn't looking. The little man seems to be intimidated by Jungkook's harsh appearance, but I don't blame him. I take one look at the condition of the used Prius and decide against it. I have a feeling the moment I drove off the lot it would have broken down, and Bob has a strict no-return policy. 

We visit a few more lots and they are all equally as trashy. After a morning of countless balding men, I decide to suspend my search for a car. I will have to go farther away from campus for a decent car and I just don't feel like it today. We decide to get some lunch at a drive-through, and while we eat in the car Jungkook surprisingly tells me a story about when Namjoon got arrested for puking all over the floor of a Wendy's last year. The day is going better than I could have imagined, and for once I feel like we could both make it through this semester without killing each other. 

On our way back to campus, we pass a cute little frozen yogurt bar and I beg Jungkook to stop. He groans and acts like he doesn't want to, but I see the hint of a smile hiding behind his sour features. Jungkook tells me to find a spot and he goes and gets our yogurt for us, piling on every candy and cookie imaginable. It looks disgusting, but he convinces me it's the only way to get your money's worth. As gross as it looks, it's delicious. I can't even finish half of mine, but Jungkook happily clears his cup and the remainder of mine. 

"Jungkook?" a man's voice says. 

Jungkook's head snaps up and his eyes narrow. Was that an accent I heard? The stranger is holding a bag and a drink carrier full of yogurt cups. 

"Um . . . hey," Jungkook says, and I know instinctively that this is his father. The man is tall and lean, like Jungkook, and has the same-shaped eyes, only his are a deep brown instead of green. Other than that, they are polar opposites. His father is wearing gray dress pants and a sweater vest. His brown hair has some gray scattered on its sides and his demeanor is coldly professional. Until he smiles, that is, and shows a warmth similar to Jungkook's, when he isn't putting so much effort into being a jerk.

"Hi, I'm Jimin," I politely say and reach my hand out. Jungkook glares at me but I ignore him. It's not like he was going to introduce me. 

"Hello, Jimin. I am Ken, Jungkook's father," he says and shakes my hand. 

"Jungkook, you never told me you had a boyfriend—you two should come over for dinner tonight. Karen will make a nice meal for everyone. She's an excellent cook." 

I want to keep Jungkook's anger in check and tell his father that I'm not his boyfriend, but Jungkook speaks first. 

"We can't tonight. I have a party to go to and he doesn't want to come," he snaps. A gasp escapes my lips at the way Jungkook speaks to his father. Ken's face drops and I feel terrible for him. 

"Actually, I would love to. I'm also a friend of Seokjin; we have classes together," I interject, and Ken's friendly smile reappears. 

"You are? Well, that is great. Jin is a nice kid. I would be happy to have you over tonight," Ken says and I smile. 

I feel Jungkook's eyes blazing at me as I ask, "What time should we be there?" 

" 'We'?" his father asks and I nod. "Okay . . . let's do seven. I need to give Karen a bit of a warning or she will have my head," he jokes and I smile. Jungkook stares angrily out the glass wall. 

"Sounds great! We'll see you tonight!" 

He says goodbye to Jungkook, who rudely ignores him despite me kicking his foot under the table. A minute after his dad leaves the store, Jungkook stands abruptly and slams his chair into the table. It topples over and he kicks it partway across the room before rushing out the door and leaving me alone to deal with everyone's stares. Not sure what to do, I leave my yogurt where it is, stammer an apology under my breath, and clumsily upright the chair before running out after him.