DRIVE | J.JK

9

JUNGKOOK

I sit on bed, trembling as I hold my graded test paper. Sweat pours down my back as I bury my paled face in my hands, shaking violently.

He was going to hit me.

A 96.

My open books and dim lamplight on my desk seem to dissolve in meaning as I swallow, imagining what would exactly happen the second my father came back home from work.

He was going to hit me, and I might not make it to school tomorrow.

A soft sob escapes my lips as my eyes fix on the question that I'd gotten marked wrong. It's a careless mistake— a careless mistake that I was going to have to pay for.

Should I just keep it from him?

No— he'd know anyways in the future, and then he'd be furious that I'd kept it from him. There was no choice but to tell him, and accept my punishment.

Then I hear the door click open, and my father's gruff voice.

"I'm back."

My fists clench together as I slowly stand up from the bed, feeling breathless with the paper tight in my hand. Finally I get enough courage to step out of my room.

My father looks up at me from his newspaper.

"Jungkook." He says, and I don't realize I've been holding my breath until my chest feels suffocated. "Yes, how'd the test go today?"

His eyes slit at my lowered head.

"Give me the paper, son." My head feels light, and everything goes black with panic. What would he do this time when he realizes that I didn't get a perfect score?

"Son."

I flinch, and I can feel his hardened gaze on me as I quickly put the test paper in his open palm.

"So unfocused. I expect to say things only once." He says scornfully, flipping through the pages. "And I expect a hundred as usual—"

Then everything pauses, and I bite back down a gasp as he shifts on the couch.

"Isn't this the same type of question you always get wrong during your practice tests, Jungkook?" He asks, and my eyes slightly open in surprise. I nod quickly, pulling nervously at my hands.

"Yes, father. I- I promise I'll do better next time."

"No dinner tonight," He sighs, and the hope grows inside my chest as he puts the test away on the small table next to him. "I'll expect you to do much better next time."

Was— Was this it?

I talk furiously fast. "Yes, father. I promise— I'll get a perfect score next time, I swear. I—"

"Good, son."

Then his gaze turns cold, and all the bubbling hope dissolves in my chest as he motions towards the fireplace.

"Fetch the poker, will you?"

________________________

L

When I walk into third period, my body freezes. Not giving a damn about the yelling teacher, I instantly grip Jungkook's wrist and pull him out of the classroom.

He winces, brown eyes dull.

"Min." He says tiredly, eyes flickering around nervously. "What— What are you doing? We should.... get back to class before the teacher gets really mad at us."