Chapter Text
Chaeyoung is wearing her least favorite pair of knee socks. Lisa can tell even from here—even from halfway up the bleachers, where she stands between Felix and Jin and looks down to where Chaeyoung stands in the center of the gym floor—because Chaeyoung keeps reaching down when she thinks no one is looking and tugging her knee socks up her calves. Lisa knows that Chaeyoung must have woken up this morning and realized that none of her good pairs of knee socks were clean—perhaps they were still in her laundry basket, untouched since before Christmas break—and that she must have dug into her sock drawer, her nimble fingers brushing against the cherry wood, and pulled out the old cotton pair, the ones she swore back in 9th grade that she would never wear again because they were always falling down.
“They’d better hurry up,” Felix says, glancing at his wristwatch . “It’s 2:17 already”
”It’s Friday, Felix,” Lisa says. “No one’s gonna care if we have to stay an extra minute.” She scans the gym and spots their ill tempered vice principal brooding beneath one of the basketball hoops. “Expect maybe Mr Kim. He looks like he’s gonna faint if he doesn’t get his end-of-the-day Kimchi Stew soon.”
”I feel him, for once,” Jin says. “I’m starving and I want Mandu.”
Lisa’s about to respond when a deafening buzzing sound swells outward into the gym. Students all around the bleachers jerk their hands up to their ears. Then there’s the distant sound of a microphone falling over, and Lisa, clutching her ears, sees Mr. Park, the half-blind old technical director, raising his palms in apology. Several feet away from him, Mrs Kwog, the principal, rolls her eyes up into her head.
“Think they finally got it?” Lisa says.
“Mr Park looks confused.” Felix says.
”He looks the same as ever,” Jin says. “Like he’s high and doesn’t know what he’s doing here. Gotta love old Coach.”
”say— something to test it?” A clear voice says through the speakers, and they all swing their eyes to Chaeyoung, who stands at the half court line holding a cordless microphone in her hand. “Oh,” she says, half-laughing at herself, her earnest expression visible even from the bleachers. “I guess it’s working now—“
”Bout time!” one of the football players in the lower bleachers yells. From where Lisa stands, it sounds like Jungkook.
Chaeyoung laughs along with the rest of the gym. She runs a hand through her hair, her smile relaxed and unguarded like it is when she tells Lisa stories late at night. “Hi, y’all,” she says.
”Hi,” the hundreds of students laugh.
”thanks, Mr Park,” Chaeyoung says, with no trace of irony in her voice. “Okay—so should we have this pep rally?”
the student body breaks into whooping and applause. It starts in Lisa’s section, with the senior class, and moves all around the gym as the juniors, sophomores, and freshmen echo their older peers. “Yeah!” Jin shouts amidst all the cheering. “Bring on the Mandu!”
Several of the seniors on the bleachers below them turn around with quizzical smiles on their faces, but Jin just grins and pumps his hands in the air, making everyone around them laugh.
”Before we start,” Chaeyoung says, and at her words, the gym falls quiet again. “Father Cho is going to lead us in prayer.”
The energy in the gym turns restless and agitated. Boys crack their necks, girls pull their shirtsleeves over their wrists. Father Cho steps toward the microphone, his neck straining against his white clerical collar.
”Kill me now,” Lisa says under her breath. The seniors all around her shoot her conspiratorial smirks.
“Let us bow our heads and prey,” Father Cho says. The mass of freshmen to Lisa’s left obeys his order, their skinny, acne-heavy faces tilted toward the bleachers. Across the gym, most of the sophomores and juniors follow suit. It is only here, in the senior section, that Lisa senses resistance. The anxious resistance of young adults, of people caught between the crayon drawings of Sunday school and the cognitive dissonance of grown-up theology.
”Heavenly Father, we thank you for this day…”
Lisa doesn’t listen to him. She lets her mind wander as she picks at the chipped green nail polish on her thumb. Next to her, Felix scratches at his forearm, his calloused knuckles hinting at too many nights spent wrestling with his little brothers.
Lisa’s mind slips back to the pep rally they had in August, when everyone had fresh haircuts and neatly pressed skirts and slacks, and when she, Chaeyoung, Felix, Jungkook and Jin had organized a surprise skit for the student body in which their teachers had dressed up as the more memorable students in the senior class. She can still see Mr Yang’s impression of Jungkook’s cocky strut, can still hear Mrs Jin’s attempt at Chaeyoung’s laugh, can still remember the thrill she felt when Ms Yoo— her favorite teacher—adopted Lisa’s own mannerisms and spoke with her phrases.
“…We thank you for our athletes, these young men who will represent our school tonight and who will seek to glorify you with their performance,” Father Cho says. “We know you have endowed them with special gift—“
”Hagh,” Jin says, shaking his head. “Jeez. Sorry everyone. Got a little cough here.”
The seniors all around them snicker and brush their hands over their mouths. Lisa tries in vain to stop her shoulders from shaking with laughter.
“…In Your name we pray. Amen.”
“Amen,” Lisa mutters, tossing the word into the great rush of “Amen” that sweeps across the gym. She raises her hand to her forehead to make the same Sign of the Cross that everyone else is making, the words and actions ingrained in her brain, her movements mirroring those of every other person in the gym.
“Thanks, Father Cho,” Chaeyoung says, taking the microphone back. She pivots toward the senior class and her mouth twitches with a smile, like she can read their discomfort all too plainly. “Alright,” she says. “So. Does anyone want me to bring out our St. Mary’s football team?”
The energy in the gym changes instantly: the crowd erupts, the band launches into the school fight song, and the center of the gym is flooded with color as the football players, decked out in their blood red St. Mary’s jerseys, spill onto the gym floor and throw up their hands at the crowd around them.
“Don’t you just love when we heroworship our own classmates?” Jin says.
“You know, I actually do,” Lisa says. “I’ll probably ask Jungkook for his autograph after this.”
“He’ll think you’re serious,” Felix laughs.
Chaeyoung holds the microphone low in her right hand and cranes her neck to talk to some football players. The rest of the student body, watching from the bleachers, continues to shout and stomp and cheer, until Mrs kwog pats her hands over the air to indicate that she wants quiet. The gym falls into a relaxed silence, and Chaeyoung redirects her attention to the student body, biting her lip as she transitions from a smile to a serious face.
“Tonight’s expo game will be a crucial event in the race for the Diocesan Cup,” she says. “We’re already leading the pack with community service hours and our Adoration log, but winning this football game will really put us over the top. And I think the leaders of this diocese know exactly what they’re doing in pitting us against Mount Sinai, because there is no better rivalry in Baton Rouge. So tonight, let’s set ourselves up for a Diocese Cup victory and ensure that the St. Mary’s legacy continues to grow stronger.”
“Those of us who are seniors—“ she pauses to wait for the inevitable hollering from the senior class—“first set foot on this campus three and a half years ago, back when the football team had an overall losing record, most of us still had braces, and Jeon Jungkook was about four-foot-seven.”
There’s a great outburst of laughter, particularly from the senior class section of the gym. Jungkook, who stands at the front of the football team, laughs good-naturedly while several guys hit his arm.
“All of that has changed now,” Chaeyoung says. “We had an overall winning record this past fall, all of our seniors are braces-free and beautiful, and Jungkook now stands at—what are you, four-foot-eight?”
Everyone laughs again, as does Jungkook, his smile huge and bright. “Pretty close,” he calls to Chaeyoung.
Chaeyoung’s smile stretches up to her eyes. She tips the microphone away from herself and lets out a series of short, repeated laughs, the kind that always overtake her when she’s trying not to find something funny. She casts a look behind her before speaking into the microphone again. “Sorry,” she laughs. “Mrs kwog wanted me to use that joke—Sorry! Sorry! Anyway. We beat Mount Sinai back in the fall, and tonight we’re going to beat them again, right here in our own stadium, with the whole diocese watching. We’re going to show them what it means to be a St. Mary’s player, student, fan, and believer, and what it means to be the very best school in diocese. So, before I turn the mic over to Jungkook, I just want to say: Geaux Tigers!”
And again, the crowd of students roars, stomps, and throws their hands in the air. Some of the girls near Lisa are practically shrieking. The teachers sitting along the first row of bleachers on the other side of the gym shake their heads and laugh, and Mr Park actually pulls his hearing aids out of his ear. Ms Jin claps her hands and leans over to say something to Mrs Kwog, and they both laugh.
The noise dies down as Chaeyoung beckons Jungkook over to the microphone. He hugs her and whispers something into her ear, earning a smile from her, and then he takes the microphone and pivots his body so he can address the entire gym.
“Our student body president, everyone,” he says in his deep, rumbling voice. “Hey, y’all know it’s her birthday today, right?”
Suddenly the whole gym swells with an impossible level of cheering and shouting.
Chaeyoung smiles big and tugs on her earring, tilting her head to the floor. Jungkook lowers the microphone and turns back to look at the football team, holding his fingers in the air—3-2-1—and then the team begins to sing Happy Birthday. Within a half-second, the whole school is singing with them.
Lisa sings quietly under her breath, keeping her eyes on Chaeyoung the whole time, watching her tuck her hair back behind her ear. Toward the end of the song, Chaeyoung raises her eyes to the bleachers. She meets Lisa’s eyes, and Lisa waggles her eyebrows and grins as big as she can, and Chaeyoung shakes her head and fights a smile just as the song ends.
It’s a standard pep rally after that. Jungkook pumps up the crowd until the cheering around the gym is so amplified and everyone’s emotions are so heightened that Lisa feels almost delirious with excitement. Jin starts to crow where he stands, his eyes wide and his cheeks flushed, and then he sets his hands on Lisa’s shoulders and shakes her back and forth until Felix leans forward and jabs him in the stomach to make him stop.
“Dude!” Jin rasps.
“You deserved that,” Lisa laughs, shoving Jin’s shoulder.
“Jisoo would have hit you harder,” Felix says, hiking his eyebrows high above the rims of his glasses.
Jin pulls up his t-shirt in a fit of mania so that the red Tiger Spirit! imprint catches around his armpits and his white undershirt is on full display to everyone across the gym. He makes to take the shirt all the way off, but Lisa elbows him and points down at Mr Kim, whose small, beady eyes are glaring daggers at Jin from beneath the basketball hoop.
“Alright, Alright,” Jin says, pulling his shirt down and holding his palms up in surrender.
The cheerleaders take to the floor to lead everyone in organized cheers while the band plays the fight song again. Jungkook holds the microphone in his left hand and grins out at the display like it’s entirely for him. The band reaches the end of the fight song, allows for a minute-long intermission, and then plays the fight song all over again.
The pep rally ends when the costumed school mascot—a yellow tiger sporting a red St. Mary’s shirt, and whom the administration officially refers to as “Mr. Tiger” but whom the entire student body calls “Hot Little Mary”—bursts onto the center of the gym floor and dances to the fourth repeat of the fight song. The gym goes crazy with cheers and shouts to the costumed tiger, and the noise level peaks so high that Lisa’s ears ache.
Then the music abruptly stops, and the cheerleaders and football players and students look around for the source of the disruption. Mrs Kwog stands on the court sidelines, slicing her hands back and forth over the air in an Enough kind of gesture, and then she walks to the center of the gym and takes the microphone from Jungkook.
“What are y’all on today?” she says. “Save some of this energy for the game tonight! Let’s all bid farewell to Mr. Tiger, and then we’ll start dismissal with the freshmen.”
“Bye, Hot Little Mary!” “We love you, Hot Little Mary!” “Get it, Hot Little Mary!” The students around the gym shout, and Mrs Kwog frowns at the bleachers, her mouth pulled tight in disapproval.
“Were you planning on giving the whole school a strip tease?” Jisoo asks Jin when she joins them in the hallway. Around them, other students drum on each other’s booksacks and push each other down the hall, and the whole vicinity has that air about it like something is going to happen.
“It was only for you,” Jin says. “But considering you were on the other side of the gym, what was I supposed to do?”
“You should have let him take it all the way off, Lis,” Jisoo says. “You deprived us all of another great Kim Seokjin showdown.”
“There’ll be more,” Lisa says.
“A whole semester’s worth of them,” Felix says.
“Can we talk about how the band played the same song like twelve times?” Jisoo says. “Do they not know anything else? I felt like I was riding in the car with Lisa, being forced to hear the same song on repeat for twenty minutes.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Lisa says, “would you like me to choose something else from my library of three-thousand songs that you accidentally deleted when you were wasted?”
Jisoo rolls her eyes. Jin takes her hand and says, “Aw, do you not know how to respond when we publicly shame you?”
“I am above conflict,” Jisoo says.
Felix snorts, and Lisa shoots him a sideways smirk. Jin looks down at Jisoo with exaggerated pity, almost like she’s not in her right mind.
“I hate all of you,” Jisoo says. “Come on, Jin, let’s go before I change my mind about wanting to hang out with you. Lis, will you take my bag home?”
“Take it yourself, lazy.”
“Come on, it’s like two books. Can’t you at least put it in the car?”
“Fine.”
“Tell mom I’ll be home to change before the game.”
“I’m going to tell her you’re fornicating in the park and she’d better buy you a new chastity belt.”
“Shut up. You are disgusting. Bye y’all,” Jisoo says, and then she grabs Jin’s hand and pulls him toward the senior parking lot.
Lisa swings Jisoo’s bag over her arm and looks to Felix, who leans against the white cinder block wall. He smiles knowingly at her. “Does she really only have two books in there?”
“Of course not,” Lisa says, rolling her eyes. “Feels like she’s been lugging a dumbbell around.”
“Want me to carry it?”
“I got it.”
“Don’t tell me you two were waiting around for me,” someone calls. They turn to see Jungkook striding toward them, his football jersey stretched taut over his chest. “What’d y’all think of the pep rally?”
“It was awesome,” Lisa says. “You were as dashing as ever.”
“Don’t make me blush, Lis,” Jungkook says, clapping a hand to her shoulder. “Where’s everyone else?”
“Jisoo and Jin just left,” Felix says. “Can you hang for a bit, or do you have a team meeting?”
“Nah, I can hang. Where’s Chaeyoung?”
“Haven’t seen her yet,” Lisa answers.
“Let’s go out to the parking lot,” Jungkook says, brushing past them. “It was crazy in there. I need some air.”
Lisa and Felix lean against the back of Jungkook’s truck while Felix talks up his excitement for the game. He bounces up and down on his toes and pounds his fists against each other, his statements getting increasingly repetitive. Lisa blinks against the late afternoon sun. The parking lot has mostly cleared out and only a few stragglers linger around the remaining cars. The air tastes crisp and clean, like it always does in February, and Lisa breathes it into her lungs while she rubs her hands over her bare knees to warm them.
“But how lucky am I that I get to play one last game for St. Mary’s?” Jungkook says. “This whole Diocese cup thing is awesome.”
“I find the whole thing weird,” Lisa says. “Making schools vie against each other for something that doesn’t even mean anything?”
“Doesn’t mean anything?” Jungkook says, his expression incredulous. “Are you kidding? Dude, like Chaeyoung said, it’s a chance to show we’re the best. Fifty years of competition with Mount Sinai and we can finally prove we’re better. We’ll have bragging rights for the next 50 years! Besides, think about that prize money. If we could pour that into the football program—“
“Everyone talks about Mount Sinai like they’re the enemy,” Lisa interrupts, “but we’re part of the same diocese. The same Catholic diocese. Don’t you find that a little hypocritical?”
“Mount Sinai people suck,” Jungkook says. “Half the kids Felix and I went to middle school with ended up going there, and they were all douchebags.”
“That’s true,” Felix says, lifting his shoulders.
“Anyway, I just have this feeling about tonight,” Jungkook says. “I can’t explain it, but I know we’re going to win. You know?”
“Yeah,” Lisa and Felix say together, Lisa giving up on arguing with Jungkook.
Jungkook runs a hand through his dark hair and mutters “Big night” for the third time, and then a building door opens several yards behind him.
Chaeyoung walks slowly out to the parking lot, her eyes glazed over in thought, her hands pulling on her booksack straps.
“Hey,” Jungkook calls to her. “What took you so long?”
Chaeyoung jerks her head up, seemingly startled by the question. “Hey,” she says. “Clean up. You know how OCD Mrs Kwog is. And then Ms. Jin wanted to debrief with everyone on student council afterwards. Y’all weren’t waiting for me, were you?”
She’s looking at Lisa; Lisa grins. “Such a wasted opportunity.”
“I know, I’m kind of ashamed of myself.”
“What are you talking about?” Jungkook says.
“Lisa wrote me a list of dares for the assembly,” Chaeyoung says, unfolding the notepaper Lisa had slipped her that morning. “Look at this.”
Jungkook takes the note from her, and Lisa and Felix walk up beside him to read the message:
Chae,
here are my suggestions for your speech today. I think you’ll find this list comprehensive and inspiring. Ten points to you for each one of these gems you manage to work in—
-Deliver the entire speech with your eyes closed. Never explain why
-Ask for volunteer Tributes to come forward
-Shake the microphone cord at Mrs Kwog and tell her you challenge her to a jump rope competition. Loser has to do body shots off of Mr Kim
-Interrupt yourself halfway through, make your eyes go wide, and shout, “OH MY GOD! I JUST SAW JESUS UP THERE IN THE STANDS!”
-Tell the student body we are going to “clobber the fuck out of those Mount Sinai douchebitches”
-Call Fr. Cho “Mother Cho,” then pretend you just got confused
-When Jungkook speaks, stand at the back of the gym and shout, “He doesn't even go here!”
-When Hot little Mary runs in, tackle him/her/it to the ground, then yell for back-up
-End the speech by invoking prayers for the football player’s herpes outbreak; proclaim your faith that their discomfort will not prevent them from winning
Good luck, you’ll be awesome.
PS please don’t lose this note, as it might result in my being suspended and/or expelled.
PPS now that you’re 18, you might actually be held accountable for this stuff…so keep that in mind. Happy Birthday!
“You are crazy,” Felix laughs, looking at Lisa. “What if someone had found that?”
“That’s why I didn’t sign it,” Lisa says.
“Lis, it would take about two seconds for anyone in this school to figure it out,” Jungkook says. “Who else would give Chaeyoung a note like this?”
“Nobody,” Chaeyoung says, taking the note back. “Only Lisa.”
The temperature drops to the low 40’s that night. Lisa watches Felix squeeze his shoulders tight together as they walk into the football stadium. She burrows her hands into her jacket pockets and clutches the warm screen of her cell phone, feeling it vibrate with a new text message, knowing it’s Chaeyoung wondering where she is.
“You want something from Concessions?” Felix asks her.
“I’m good.”
You sure? I’m getting a Coke. You want one too?”
“Alright,” She says, reaching into her purse for her wallet.
“Don’t,” Felix says, lightly knocking her arm. “My treat.”
They hike up the stands with their drinks in their hands, the paper cup burning Lisa’s fingers with cold. The sea of people around them—students, parents, siblings—moves like one mass in response to the game. Lisa climbs upward and upward until she sees Chaeyoung, her bleached blonde hair reflecting the light of the stadium lamp posts, sitting in the middle of a row, surrounded by people on all sides. “Here,” Lisa says, tugging on Felix’s sleeve and leading him into the row of people.
“Hey,” Chaeyoung breathes when she sees them. “Hey, Soobin?—Wonyoung?—Would y’all mind moving down a little bit?”
“How are we doing?” Lisa asks her.
“Jungkook threw a perfect pass to Jackson and Jackson scored a touchdown.”
“Excellent.”
“Regular or diet?” Chaeyoung asks her, tapping Lisa’s cup.
“Regular,” Lisa says, offering it to her. They drink back and forth, and Lisa’s stomach hums with the familiarity of it all.
Jungkook throws a 20-yard pass to Kim Namjoon, who runs the ball another ten yards into the end zone for the second touchdown of the game. The stands erupt with noise, the St. Mary’s band leading everyone in the fight song, and Jungkook gallops backwards with his hand in the air, his finger pointing at the goal posts as if to say Told you we’d make it happen.
Felix leans down close to Lisa, his eyes bright and his mouth open in a big smile. “Remember the first time Jungkook talked to us about football?” he says.
Lisa laughs as she claps her hands hard together, her skin burning against the cold. “When he told us he’d be quarterback by junior year? And we’d be the most popular kids in school.”
“And you said ‘That’s nice’ and went back to your Geography homework.”
“Guess he showed us.”
“What are you two laughing about?” Chaeyoung asks, passing the Coke back to Lisa.
“Jungkook,” Lisa says, the one-word answer sufficient enough to make Chaeyoung smile knowingly.
The crowd falls hushed as they wait for the kicker to score the extra point. Lisa watches the boys on the field, white light illuminating their bodies and making the whole game look more special than it is. Jongin, the kicker, surges forward and kicks the football, and it spins a perfect arc through the goal posts, setting off the crowd into a fresh flood of cheering.
“Hola, amigos,” Jisoo says, shuffling into their row, oblivious to the screaming people all around her. “Sorry we missed the big play.”
“We paid a visit to the concessions,” Jin says, holding a carton of nachos in his hands, “and I’m happy to tell you that we’ve already eaten two hot dogs and a pack of Sour Patch Kids.”
“And now you’re gonna share those nachos with the rest of us?” Lisa asks.
“Hell no,” Jisoo says.
“Sorry,” Jin says, “but they’re not-chos.”
“I’m stealing one because that joke was offensively bad,” Lisa says.
“Back off, demon sister,” Jisoo says, swinging the nachos toward herself. “They’re only for us.”
“Jisoo, I will scoop up some of that fake cheese and put it in your hair.”
“You are disgusting. You will not do that.”
“Just give me one.”
“Fine.” Jisoo bites a nacho in two and hands Lisa the smaller half. “Don’t say I never did anything for you.”
Before Lisa can eat her small half of the nacho, Chaeyoung swipes it from her hand and eats it herself. “Are you kidding me?” Lisa half-shouts, and the dad in the row below them turns around in confusion, thinking Lisa is responding to the game.
Chaeyoung shrugs and looks at Lisa with a straight face. “Sorry. I was hungry. Big speech earlier today.”
Jisoo, Jin and Felix crack up laughing. Lisa rolls her eyes and shoves Chaeyoung lightly until she breaks her straight face and grins. “At least give me my drink back,” Lisa says.
“Okay,” Chaeyoung takes a long gulp, her eyebrow raised as she waits for Lisa to smile. “Here you go.”
St. Mary wins the game, mostly due to Jungkook’s efforts, and the St. Mary’s fans make so much raucous noise that it drives the Mount Sinai fans out of the stadium like demons out of a possessed person.
Lisa stands in the middle of her friends and cheers the team off the field until her throat starts to ache, watching Jungkook raise his helmet into the air while he cranes his neck up at the stands, looking to the parents, to the teachers, to the student body, to the senior class, and, Lisa knows, to them.
“Hey, how are y’all celebrating?” Soobin asks as he hugs them. “Are you having a party? Or know of any going on?”
“We have to head out, actually,” Lisa says, gesturing at Chaeyoung, Felix, Jisoo and Jin. “We have some stuff to take care of.”
“Is Jungkook going with you?”
“Yeah, he’s meeting us,” Felix says.
“Aw, c’mon, you’re gonna take the MVP away from us?” Mark Lee says.
“We thought y’all would organize something,” Wonyoung says. “That’s what everyone’s been saying.”
“Sorry,” Lisa says, leading the way out of the stands. “I’m sure tomorrow night or next weekend we’ll be doing something!”
“What’s going on?” Chaeyoung asks as the five of them clamber down the bleachers.
Lisa turns around and places her hands on Chaeyoung’s shoulders. “I have a secret errand to take care of.”
“A secret errand?”
“Yes. It may or may not involve your natal day celebration.”
Chaeyoung’s eyes fill with light. “What are we doing?”
“Just something small. Just the six of us. I didn’t think you’d want anything crazy, especially after that pep rally and the game—”
“I don’t—”
“Good, then drive to my house and I’ll see you in a bit.”
“Where are you going?”
Lisa raises her eyebrows but doesn’t answer, and Chaeyoung assumes her challenge smile—the one that means Lisa has surprised her and she wants to see what’s next. Lisa locks eyes with Jisoo and Jin, and Jisoo grabs the arm of Lisa’s jacket and tugs her away. Chaeyoung looks back just once, so Lisa shrugs—you’ll see—and then turns to follow Felix in the opposite direction.
Their friends are standing around the front yard when Lisa and Felix drive up to Lisa’s house. Jin and Jungkook look up from throwing a tennis ball back and forth and Jin waves his arms overeagerly at them as they turn into the driveway. Chaeyoung stands with a hand on her hip, her purse slung across her body, talking to Jisoo on the front walk.
“Food time!” Jisoo sings when Lisa and Felix step out of the car.
“Jin, are you seriously standing on our dad’s flowers?” Lisa says as she crosses the driveway, balancing the cake box awkwardly under her arm. “Don’t you know better by now?”
“Lisa, it’s February,” Jisoo says. “I doubt Dad cares. What took you so long?”
“I did three thousand push-ups in the time you were gone,” Jungkook says. He tosses the tennis ball to Felix and runs out into the street. “Throw it long!”
“Jungkook, get back here!” Lisa shouts. “It’s birthday time!”
“Hold on, just let me get a few more throws in! I’m trying to stretch out my arm!”
Felix cups the tennis ball in his palm and looks to Lisa for permission. Lisa looks to Chaeyoung, who smiles. “I don’t mind,” she says.
“Come on, Felix!” Jungkook shouts from across the street.
Felix throws the tennis ball out into the night, and they all strain their eyes to see Jungkook catch it triumphantly. He lets out a whoop and holds the ball above his head; Lisa sees a sphere of neon green against a black backdrop.
“Alright, man, come on,” Felix yells.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Jungkook says as he hustles back to the yard. He tosses the tennis ball to Lisa. “Are you gonna hug me, or what?”
She grins and allows him to sweep her up in a hug. “Awesome game,” she says into his hair.
“Best we’ve ever seen you play,” Felix says, clapping Jungkook’s hand.”
“Thanks,” Jungkook says, his smile stretched wide.
“Okay… and now…” Lisa says, turning to Chaeyoung, “cake time! Ready, Birthday Girl?”
“Ready,” Chaeyoung grins.
Lisa leads Chaeyoung and their friends back toward the carport and through the side door. She can hear Jungkook and Felix lagging behind them, their voices joining in laughter with Jin’s and Jisoo’s.
“I’m going to cut them small pieces for making us wait,” Lisa whispers.
“Tiny slivers,” Chaeyoung says, playing along.
“Maybe we can throw Jungkook’s to him.”
“He would probably go for that.”
“Probably. And then you and I can have all the leftovers for breakfast tomorrow.”
Chaeyoung’s eyes brighten just before the boys run in and wrap her in a hug. “Deal!” She says, grinning at Lisa over Jungkook’s shoulder.
Lisa’s mom walks in from the family room to say hi to them all, and Chaeyoung and the boys hug her while Lisa and Jisoo gather everyone’s jackets. “So how’s the birthday girl?” Lisa’s mom asks, her voice thin but warm, and Chaeyoung leans her forearms on the kitchen high counter and tells Lisa’s mom all about her day at school and her dinner with her family. Jin, Felix, and Jungkook step around her to walk into the family room, where Lisa can just see her dad’s bristly grey hair poking out from his armchair, and Lisa watches out the corner of her eye as the boys shake hands with her dad.
“Heard you gave ‘em quite a show tonight,” Lisa’s dad says.
“Yes, sir,” Jungkook says, his deep voice vibrating with pride.
“That’s great,” Lisa’s dad says, and then he says nothing else. Lisa strains her ears past Chaeyoung and her mom’s conversation to listen to the pocket of silence in the family room. She pictures her dad shifting his eyes from boy to boy, wondering what to say, his mouth half-open around another pleasantry. Jisoo gives her a look.
“We’d better get back in there for cake,” Felix says, his voice more robust than normal. “Good to see you, Mr Manoban.”
“See you later, Mr Manoban,” Jin and Jungkook say.
The boys come back into the kitchen and there’s a spike in volume from the TV in the family room. Lisa looks automatically at Felix. His mouth curves in a simple smile to let her know everything is okay.
There are remnants of Christmas littered all throughout the kitchen: a plate of stale gingerbread cookies that Jisoo never finished decorating; a collage of holiday greeting cards tacked up with magnets on the fridge; a dying poinsettia in the middle of the table, its blood red petals withering right in front of them, though none of them notice. Lisa gathers silverware from the drawer in the counter and her mom’s mint green dessert plates from the cabinet above the coffee maker, and all the while she feels a beating thrill in her stomach, that same thrill she feels every year at the start of Carnival season, when the King Cakes first appear on store shelves and the neighbors on the corner hang their purple, green, and yellow flag off the side of their house, and her classmates at school talk about which Mardi Gras balls their older siblings are going to or where their family plans to go skiing during the long weekend. “It’s the best damn time to be a Louisianan,” Jungkook always says, and Lisa, glancing at her friends, agrees.
“How can I help?” Chaeyoung asks, appearing at Lisa’s side.
“You can go enjoy your unofficial birthday party.”
“I am enjoying it,” Chaeyoung says, “but let me help you.”
“I’m pretending to be a domestic goddess right now,” Lisa says. “Just let me have my moment.”
“What kind of cake did you get?”
Lisa slides the cake box toward her. When Chaeyoung glances down at it, Lisa says, “Open it.”
“You got a King Cake?” Chaeyoung exclaims, looking down at the icing-coated cake ring.
“Are you surprised?” Jin calls from the table. “We’re obviously going to use your Epiphany birthday to kill two birds with one stone. What kinds of friends would we be otherwise?”
“I can’t wait to eat it,” Jungkook says, reaching his hand out.
Lisa slaps his hand away. “I will punch you if you try to eat this before we sing.”
“Sorry, Mom,” he says, licking his fingers and sticking it in her ear.
“Stop! Stop! Oh my god, just go make sure everyone has their drinks!”
“Did we get candles?” Jin asks. “Or are we gonna sing without them, hard-ass style?”
“We got some,” Felix says, fishing them out of the grocery bag. He places them carefully into the king cake, spacing them equidistant from each other and taking pains not to mess up the icing more than he has to, and Lisa imagines him doing this for his mom or his little brothers with the same deliberate care.
“You really didn’t have to do this for me,” Chaeyoung says, resting her eyes on the cake, then glancing up at Lisa..
“Of course we did, chipmunk,” Lisa says, taking Chaeyoung’s glass from the table and refilling it with sweet tea for her. “This is actually probably the lamest birthday party we’ve ever had for you.”
“Well, nothing tops the one at California Pizza Kitchen,” Jin says.
“When you and Jungkook got her that Hannah Montana card and walked around the restaurant asking everyone to sign it?” Jisoo asks.
“And then we went over to Urban Outfitters and Felix and I got her that book about hamsters dressed as Renaissance painters?” Lisa says.
“I still have that book,” Chaeyoung says. “And that card. My mom keeps trying to steal it off my dresser and throw it away, but I always catch her.”
“How could she ever want to throw away something like that?” Jisoo says
They light the candles and gather around the cake, each of them leaning in on their elbows and yelling at each other not to breathe too hard over the 18 tiny flames. “Ready?” Lisa says in a hushed, excited voice, and then five of them start to sing, with Jungkook and Jin affecting bullfrog voices and Felix pretending to conduct them, and Jisoo laughing at Jin across the top of the cake, and Lisa watching Chaeyoung the whole time, watching how her eyes get even softer and her face looks disbelievingly happy, and how she tucks her hair self-consciously behind her ear when they all sing her name.
“Make a wish!” Lisa reminds her, and Chaeyoung glances at her for a lightning quick second, happiness evident in her eyes, before she blows out the candles on her cake.
“How has nobody found the baby yet?” Jisoo says, stabbing her fork back into her cake. “Someone always finds the baby during the first cut.”
“This baby Jesus is holding out on us,” Lisa answers around a cream cheese filled bite. “Playing hard to get.”
“I’m cutting seconds,” Jungkook says with his mouth full. “I want that baby.”
“I want that baby,” Lisa says.
“Careful, Jungkook,” Jisoo says. “Lisa gets really competitive about finding the Baby Jesus. She once pushed our cousin Ji-Hoon Into the refrigerator just to beat him to seconds. He had a bruise on his chest for a month.”
“That’s an exaggeration,” Lisa says.
“Not so much. And I bet everyone here can believe it.”
“I can absolutely believe that,” Chaeyoung says, catching Lisa’s eye.
Felix ends up cutting seconds for everyone—“We need a fair judge,” he says, elbowing Jungkook out of the way—and they all eat eagerly, watching each other’s plates to see who unearths the plastic pink Christ child hidden within the cake.
“Bam!” Lisa says, digging the Baby Jesus out from beneath layers of bread and cream cheese. She holds the inch-long plastic figurine up for the others to see. “I got him!”
“Goddamn it,” Jungkook says.
“Well, how does he look?” Jin asks. “Do we have ourselves a bouncing baby boy?”
“Does he look like the Messiah?” Felix adds. “Think he’s got the potential to save us all from our sins?”
“Doubtful,” Lisa says. “But you know, this is probably the best Baby Jesus I’ve ever found in a King Cake.”
“Better than that one we found last year?” Chaeyoung asks.
“Are you referring to the one you ‘accidentally’ threw away?”
“Don’t bring that up,” Chaeyoung laughs, lowering her eyes back to her cake. “I still feel bad about that.”
“You know who else feels bad about that? Jesus. Because you denied him.”
“Hey now,” Jungkook says. “Let’s get this mocking under control.”
They finish their cake slices—Jungkook finishing Lisa’s and Chaeyoung’s second pieces for them—and sit around the table for another hour, long after Lisa and Jisoo’s parents have gone up to bed, just talking and making fun of each other, and asking Jin to do impressions of their teachers, and asking Chaeyoung to tell her story about the time she walked into Mrs Kwog’s office to find her talking aloud to the curtains, and indulging Jungkook with his questions about how the St. Mary’s crowd reacted to the game tonight (“A couple of old women started speaking in tongues every time you got the ball, Jin says; It’s true,” Jisoo says, “I sold them a nacho with your face imprinted on it”). Felix pushes discarded sprinkles around his plate while he listens to the conversation, and Jisoo leans her head against Jin’s shoulder and starts to doze off, and Lisa stands the plastic Baby Jesus on the table and dances him over to Chaeyoung’s plate until Chaeyoung, her eyes swinging sideways to meet Lisa’s, tugs him out of Lisa’s hand.
“We should probably go,” Jin says, his voice uncharacteristically hushed as he watches Jisoo doze against his side.
“Yeah,” Felix says, rising gently from the table. “Here, everyone give me your plates.”
The boys leave just after midnight. Lisa stands at the sink and rinses the plates and forks, watching Chaeyoung hug the boys goodnight. Jungkook’s hand lingers at the small of Chaeyoung’s back and Lisa concentrates on scraping a stubborn piece of icing off one of the plates.
Then the boys have gone, and Jisoo has lumbered upstairs in a half-sleep, and now the only thing in the room seems to be the water pouring forth from the sink. Chaeyoung turns where she stands and casts Lisa a gentle, sleepy smile before she wordlessly walks to the sink, takes the other sponge, and starts to wipe down the table.
“You don’t have to,” Lisa says, more out of polite habit than anything else, but Chaeyoung just sends her a look—Don’t be ridiculous—and continues to clean.
They walk up the wooden stairs in silence, their feet tracing the familiar path to Lisa’s room, and Lisa feels content just to be together, just to have another Friday night sleepover in which Chaeyoung will borrow one of Lisa’s t-shirts to sleep in, and Lisa will turn the ceiling fan on high because Chaeyoung likes it that way, and they’ll fall asleep with some sitcom episode playing through Hulu on Lisa’s laptop.
“Do you want your birthday present?” Lisa asks when Chaeyoung pulls the sheets back on the bed.
Chaeyoung stills. “I thought this impromptu party was my present?”
Lisa smiles. She walks to her desk and retrieves the carefully wrapped gift from her second desk drawer, and in some part of her mind she thinks about how she’s opened this drawer to check on this present every day for the last two weeks.
Chaeyoung removes the daffodil-yellow wrapping paper very gingerly, her slender piano player’s fingers working under the tape with an easy grace. When she finds the book, her face alights with an expression Lisa cannot name.
“Lis,” she says as she trails her fingers across the cover.
“I know you lost your copy,” Lisa says, stepping nearer to her. “And I thought you might want a hardcover edition.”
“I love it,” Chaeyoung breathes. She opens the book and flips to a random page, sliding her fingertips down the hard paper, the black ink words—Scout. Atticus. Boo.—breathing off the page with the mysterious power of gospel. And in the dim light of the room, with the fan guiding currents of air across the leaves of the book and the phantom taste of King Cake on her tongue, Lisa is wrapped in magic.
“Think it’ll make it onto the sacred shelf?” Lisa asks.
“Front and center,” Chaeyoung says, drawing her fingertips across the cover. She shifts her footing to face Lisa. “Thank you.”
They crawl into bed and prop up Lisa’s laptop between them. They choose an episode of Parks and Recreation and play it with the volume on low. Chaeyoung rolls onto her side and nestles her head into Lisa’s shoulder, and Lisa falls asleep to the rhythm of Chaeyoung’s breathing and the smell of her hair.
⋆⋆⋆
The following week at school, during Lisa and Felix’s unassigned period, Felix asks her if she wants to go somewhere off campus. “Off campus?” she asks. “What, like, just to experience the thrill of maybe getting caught?”
“To get some food,” Felix says, his sinewy arms moving over his Calculus textbook as he packs it into his booksack. “I’m bored and hungry.”
“You sound like Jin.”
“I feel like Jin.”
Lisa taps her pen against her Calculus binder. “We could bring food back for our friends.”
“We could.”
Lisa pictures her friends’ faces lighting up when she and Felix surprise them with food. She sees Chaeyoung’s eyes growing large with her smile.
“You’re driving,” Lisa says.
They sneak out the back entrance and drive down South Acadian in Felix’s old Toyota Camry. Felix plays one of his standard mixed CDs—the one with a lot of tracks by Eli Young Band—and lowers the windows so the fresh, wintry air rushes into the car.
“Where do you want to go?” Felix asks, looking over at Lisa.
“You wanna do Coffee Call?”
“For beignets?” he asks, with a spring in his voice.
Lisa smiles and changes the CD track. “For beignets,” she says.
Felix opts for the drive-through so their school uniforms will be less conspicuous. He orders six beignets and a cup of coffee and they pull up to the window to wait. The smell of rich processed sugar wafts out from the kitchen, making Lisa lightheaded. An older woman opens the window and smirks knowingly at Felix’s red tie and Lisa’s plaid skirt.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Felix says, accepting the white paper bag from her.
The woman looks at them from under raised eyebrows. “You’d better get back to school.”
“We’re home-schooled,” Lisa says. “Our mom just makes us dress up so it feels more authentic.”
The woman raises her eyebrows even higher, and Felix moves the car into gear, bursting with laughter as soon as they’ve pulled away.
They take the long route back to campus, driving down Perkins until they can turn right into the Garden District. The mid-morning sun colors the trees and houses in wintry light, illuminating the purple and yellow LSU flags that hang from the porches. Felix lowers his window all the way to swim his hand through the air, and Lisa looks at him, carefree behind the wheel, his russet brown hair lifting with the oncoming rush of air.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so happy,” Lisa says.
Felix stares ahead through the windshield. After a moment, he says, “Yes you have.”
Lisa clutches the warm paper bag in her lap and turns to look out the window.
To: Park Chaeyoung & 4 more…
Feb 12, 2012 9:54 AM
Felix and I request your presence in the senior lounge. We have beignets from coffee call. Hurry bitches!
Jisoo: How did you go to coffee call??
The way most people go…in a car
Lee Felix: We snuck out like secret agents. Come eat!
Jeon Jungkook: This is awesome, coming in a min, waiting for Akers to shut up so I can ask to leave, save me at least 4 beignets
Park Chaeyoung: Beignets?! But I’m in computer systems. I'm learning how to use the space bar
As stimulating as that must be…we have SUGAR
Park Cheayoung: Space…bar…space…bar…
Jisoo: Coming now. Jin where are you
Jeon Jungkook: He probably fell asleep in class again
Kim Seokjin: O ye of little tiny baby faith. I’m walking down the hall now! You know if you bring me food then I’m there. Jisoo hurry up or I’m going to steal yours and I won’t regret it
Jisoo: And I will break up with you. Beignet > boyfriend
Kim Seokjin: How long did it take you to find that symbol on the keypad
Jisoo: …a while
Jin whoops with laughter when he bursts into the lounge. Jungkook and Jisoo follow close behind him, Jungkook clapping his hands together and Jisoo whispering “Bitches and hos” with giddy reverence. Chaeyoung comes last, her long hair swinging behind her as she closes the door and turns to face the table. She meets Lisa’s eyes and her smile grows even larger than Lisa pictured.
“You really weren’t kidding,” Chaeyoung says.
“I really wasn’t,” Lisa says.
The six of them circle around the table and feast together. Jungkook and Jin end up with powdered sugar on their mouths and chins and Felix loses his coffee cup to the mercy of the group, all of whom drink from it without asking. Felix catches Lisa’s eye and rolls his eyes up into his head, pretending to be annoyed, but Lisa can tell he’s not bothered in the slightest.
“Y’all hear about Cooper?” Jungkook asks. “He sent his deposit in to Alabama.”
“He’s going to Alabama?” Jin says. “Are you kidding me?”
“He said LSU losing the championship pushed him over the edge. Said he’d rather root for the Tide for the next four years. Asshole.”
“I always thought that kid was an idiot,” Jisoo says.
“Okay, to be fair, both his parents went there,” Felix says.
“Yeah, but he grew up here,” Jungkook says. “Anyway, the hell with him. I’m glad I don’t have to spend another four years dealing with his shit. He always challenged just about every decision I made as captain.”
“God forbid,” Lisa says, smirking.
Jungkook crumples up his napkin and tosses it at her. “You know what I mean.”
“I’m just kidding. You know I don’t like Cooper anyway. Not since that time I saw him lock Marty in a storage closet the first time Marty got drunk.”
“Or when he kicked that dog at our community service site,” Chaeyoung says, her voice bitter.
“Tell me this, Lis,” Jungkook says. “Have you decided on LSU yet?”
“I told you, I’m waiting to hear back from the other schools I applied to.”
“It won’t matter,” Jungkook says, sprawling back in his chair. “When it comes down to it, you’ll want to go to LSU with Chaeyoung and me.”
“Can we not have this conversation right now?”
“Don’t pressure her,” Chaeyoung says.
“I’m not pressuring,” Jungkook grins. “Just predicting.”
Lisa opens her mouth to retort, but just then, the lounge door opens. The six of them, taken by surprise with their fingers still covered in powdered sugar, swing their heads around to the front of the room. Sana Minatozaki Stands in the doorway, one hand on the metal door handle and the other hanging limply at her side. “Oh,” she says, her eyes narrowing as she spots the beignets on the table. “Am I interrupting?”
Jungkook, his mouth hanging open in uncertainty, rakes his eyes over the group before he shifts in his chair to face Sana. “Not at all,” he says. “We were just having a delayed celebration. You know, for the big win last week.”
“Are you all on unassigned?” Sana asks.
“Yep,” Jungkook says, pulling his lips together.
She frowns at him. “You don’t have to lie to me, Jungkook.”
“Are you on unassigned?” Lisa asks.
Sana stares at Lisa as if trying to decide whether Lisa is worth her words.
“I am, actually,” she says after a moment. “But I think it’s better to spend my unassigned period helping in the front office, rather than leaving campus illegally.” She flits her eyes away from the group and continues, in a lofty voice, “Father Cho asked me to come pick up the rosary bags. We have prayer group after school today. Maybe you all should come.”
“Mm, maybe not,” Lisa says.
Sana glares at her before flashing her eyes in Chaeyoung’s direction. “I thought you said you had unassigned during fourth block?”
Chaeyoung tightens her mouth and looks into the corner of the room.
“Isn’t that what you said?” Sana presses. “So you could take care of student council stuff at the end of the day?”
Chaeyoung raises her eyes. “Yes. That was the plan.”
Sana hikes her eyebrows as she crosses the room to fetch the rosary bag. “Probably should set a better example for the student body,” she says under her breathe.
Chaeyoung tenses. Jungkook pokes his tongue into his cheek and says, “Come on, Sana. We’re just taking a five-minute break.”
“I have to get back to the front office,” Sana says, clearing her throat. “But y’all have yourselves a lovely time. And Jungkook—you’re welcome to come back to prayer group whenever you’re ready.”
Jungkook pulls his lips together again and nods. Jin, who sits with his back to the door, mimes throwing up on the table.
“See you later,” Sana says. “Oh—but Jisoo? I’m not trying to be mean, but the lounge is exclusively for seniors. If we start letting selective juniors in, then all the other underclassmen will think they’re entitled to use the lounge, too, and it kind of defeats the purpose, don’t you think?”
Jisoo’s face flushes red as crawfish. “Yep,” she says, her voice prickly.
“Thanks,” Sana smiles. Then she shuts the door behind her and leaves.
Jisoo slumps down in her chair. “That dumb bitch.”
“Don’t listen to her,” Jin says.
“Everyone knows you’re basically a senior anyway,” Felix says.
“She’s not trying to be a bitch,” Jungkook says. “She’s just kind of a rule girl.”
Lisa trades looks with the other four. Jungkook crosses his arms and asks, “What?”
Lisa shakes her head. “Thank God you dumped her.”
“Seriously,” Chaeyoung says.
“Aw, come on,” Jungkook laughs. “She’s not that bad.”
“She’s pretty bad,” Jin says.
“Felix,” Jungkook says, gesturing to him, “You always liked her, didn’t you?”
Felix balances on the back of his chair and tilts his head in thought. “I could never figure her out.”
“She’s gonna tell Ms Shoo that I was skipping,” Chaeyoung says, raking her hair back as she adjusts her headband. “She’ll probably tell her before I even get to the student council office.”
“She needs to get over her jealousy,” Lisa says. “I mean, how long ago was that election? Like four months, at this point?”
“Yeah,” Jisoo says, “but between that and Jungkook dumping her ass, I doubt she’s gonna be our best friend anytime soon.”
“Come on, we should go,” Felix says.
“Yeah,” Jin says, sweeping crumbs into his hands, “everyone’s going to think I’ve been taking a huge shit or something.”
“Thanks for the nice surprise, y’all,” Jungkook says, looking between Lisa and Felix as he stands up. “You know I love family meals.”
“Especially illegal family meals,” Lisa says.
Chaeyoung leans down and hugs Lisa from behind while the others talk and gather trash. “Thanks,” she says quietly into Lisa’s ear.
Lisa ignores the somersault in her stomach. “You’re welcome,” she says, keeping her voice even, and then Chaeyoung and the others are gone, and Lisa reminds herself to return Felix’s smile.
The days go on. The sun rises earlier and sets later, and the afternoons grow warmer degree by degree, and the whole earth starts to trill with anticipation of spring. The live oaks that line the streets of the Garden District lean forward to whisper to each other, and the Spanish moss that hangs from their branches droops like heavy shawls they are ready to discard.
But Lisa clings to the static of winter as long as she can. She and her friends meet in the school parking lot each morning, the group of them thumbing their booksack straps while they wait for Jin to show up just before the bell rings with his Oxford shirt unbuttoned and his tie not yet fastened; they gather in the senior courtyard at lunch time and dare Jungkook to eat French fries with yogurt or apple slices dipped in ketchup; they untuck their uniforms and lean against their cars at the end of the day, exchanging jokes and stories before Jungkook has to leave for basketball practice and Felix and Jin have to leave for track and field; they text each other late at night while they study their Theology notes and solve their math problems.
They spend every weekend together, wrapped securely in the knowledge that it is still early in the semester, that they do not have to worry about college and new lives until spring is in full bloom, that for now they are simply six high school kids allowed to plan their lives around Friday night hangouts and Saturday night parties. Lisa knows the terrain of her kingdom: she knows what it is like to steal away to Waffle House to meet her friends late at night, to lie on the floor at Jungkook’s house and throw ice cubes at him when he tries to make them all talk about sex, to spend her Friday afternoons riding in Chaeyoung’s car with the country station playing and the vanilla scent of the car freshener seeping into her clothes.
On Saturday mornings Lisa and Chaeyoung take Chaeyoung’s handsome Terrier mixed dog, Hank, to the dog park on Dalrymple Drive. They sit on the circular bench that wraps around the tree in the center of the park and watch Hank gambol around the park with the other dogs.
“He’s really happy today,” Lisa says.
“He is,” Chaeyoung agrees, her eyes gentle. She pulls at the threads on her scarf as a thoughtful expression comes over her face. “Sometimes I wish we could shut down all the roads in Baton Rogue,” she says, “so there would be no cars, no traffic, and everyone could just walk around beneath the trees, and the dogs could run and play wherever they like.”
“Hank would probably run all the way down to New Orleans,” Lisa says.
“As long as he came back.”
“He would. You know he would.”
They go to Zeeland Street Café for breakfast afterwards. Chaeyoung leads the way to their favorite booth, the one in the back left corner beneath the painting of an old Cajun man. She sits like she always does with one leg pulled up on the seat so she can lean against her knee.
“Your mom would yell at you for sitting like that,” Lisa says, tapping her foot against Chaeyoung’s.
“My mom’s not here,” Chaeyoung says, her brown eyes dancing.
They eat bacon and eggs, hash browns with Tony’s seasoning, and biscuits with jelly. Chaeyoung spreads the jelly onto her biscuits in that quirky way she always does—with grape jelly on one half and strawberry on the other. Lisa catches her eye and shakes her head, and Chaeyoung grins and asks, “What?”, even though she knows what, so Lisa just shakes her head again.
“I’m getting you a coffee refill,” Chaeyoung says, lifting Lisa’s empty paper cup.
“I’m stealing your hash browns while you’re gone,” Lisa says.
They talk about the boys and Jisoo and their classmates, and neither one of them mentions how the semester is ticking by, though Lisa knows they must both be thinking about it. Lisa taps the salt and pepper shakers together and watches Chaeyoung sweep her long blonde hair over her shoulder while she talks, and all the while Lisa feels that happy, sweet feeling in her stomach—the one she always feels when she’s with Chaeyoung, the one that’s been growing stronger and stronger inside her lately.
On Saturday nights they play music in Lisa’s bedroom while they dress and do their makeup for whatever party they’re going to that night. Jisoo breezes in and out of the room, asking them which flats she should wear and whether they can see her thong through her dress, and all the while Lisa cannot stop looking at Chaeyoung, cannot stop yearning to take her hand or touch her waist, cannot stop wanting to make her laugh or hear what she’s going to say next. When they stand next to each other at the dresser mirror—when Chaeyoung is so close that Lisa can marvel at the length of her eyelashes, can breathe in the scent of her hair, can glance at her eyes and wonder what exact shade of brown they are—when they stand next to each other, all of the goodness inside Lisa swims to the surface of her skin and shines outward into the air, until she feels like a conductor for light and electricity.
“You look happy,” Chaeyoung says.
“I am happy,” Lisa says. “It’s Saturday night and we can do anything we want.”
Chaeyoung smiles and taps her eyeliner against Lisa’s arm. “Let’s get dressed for the party.”
They stand before Lisa’s closet and try to make sense of the kaleidoscope of clothes. Summer dresses hang next to Winter sweaters, green pieces next to black, brilliant scarves next to worn away sweatshirts.
“This would be a lot easier if you color coded and separated everything by season,” Chaeyoung says.
“But then I’d be a dork like you,” Lisa says.
Chaeyoung looks sideways at her, then pulls a scarlet dress down from the closet and drapes it over Lisa’s head, and Lisa isn’t aware of anything expect Chaeyoung’s laugh, a laugh with a life force all its own.
They go to parties, and the six of them fall into the same routine every time: Jin and Jisoo team up against another couple in a game of beer pong, Felix sips his beer slowly and catches Lisa’s eye every once in a while, Jungkook walks over and talks to every person in the room, every person in the room walks over and talks to Chaeyoung. And Lisa, standing in the kitchen with Felix, looks over to Chaeyoung and feels drawn to her by a force so powerful, so lovely, that she can almost see it shimmering in the air between them. She wants to go to Chaeyoung immediately, to walk on water across the space that separates them, to wrap her in a hug and hold her forever. Instead, she stays planted where she is, clutching a cheap beer and talking to Felix and some friends from their A.P. Calculus class.
“You look pretty tonight,” Felix says when the others aren’t listening.
“Thanks,” Lisa says, affecting as much nonchalance as possible. “So do you.”
Then he laughs in that shy way he has, and Lisa turns away from him and talks to whoever is on her other side.
Chaeyoung always finds her after a while, whenever she manages to break free from other conversations, and Lisa’s heart skips when Chaeyoung touches her wrist to get her attention. “It’s loud in here,” Chaeyoung always says. “Do you want to go outside?”
So they step onto the back porch when no one is looking, and they shiver in the early February air, and Chaeyoung looks over and asks, “Are you having fun, Lisa-bear?” with an expression that means she wants to know the real answer.
“Yeah,” Lisa says, because she’s always happy just to be around Chaeyoung. “Are you?”
Chaeyoung smiles her half-smile, and then, looking down at her drink, she says, “I’m bored.”
“You do realize you don’t have to whisper that like it’s a guilty secret, right? It’s not a sin to be bored.”
“I just feel like I should be more excited to be here. Aren’t parties supposed to be, like, a teenager’s dream?”
“What would you rather be doing right now?”
Chaeyoung turns to look at her. They blink at each other for a moment, the crisp air cutting the space between them, and then Chaeyoung’s lips turn upwards.
“Eating Macaroni and cheese at your house,” she says.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Let’s do it,” Lisa says, throwing the rest of her beer into the grass.
They work out the logistics, deciding which one of them should drive—“I’m way more sober than you,” Chaeyoung says, “you know I only had one drink”—until Jungkook pokes his head out onto the porch and says, with an edge to his voice, “What are y’all doing?”
“We’re stargazing,” Lisa says with a straight face. “Chaeyoung’s really into Ursa major right now.”
Jungkook stares at her like he doesn’t know whether he’s being made fun of or not, and finally Jungkook shakes his head and leaves them on the porch.
“Come on,” Chaeyoung says, tugging on Lisa’s arm. “Let’s go home.”
They say goodbye to the boys and to Jisoo—“Don’t come home too late,” Lisa tells her, “I don’t want another joint lecture from Mom”—and then they make their way through the house, their classmates parting for them like the two halves of the Red Sea, everyone begging them to stay, to have one more drink, to listen to one more song.
Chaeyoung drives them down moonlit, oak-towered streets. They drive in peaceful silence, carrying the emotions from the party in their stomachs and their lungs. Lisa looks through the windshield and begs the sky that her life will always be like this—large and loud and brimming with youth, but always followed by the quiet drive home and the promise of ending the night with her favorite person in the world.
The house is dark and silent when they walk inside, but Lisa’s mom has left the kitchen light on for them. Lisa pulls the cooking pot out from under the stove while Chaeyoung pulls out bowls and silverware, and then Chaeyoung hops up on the counter, tapping her bare heels against the yellow kitchen cabinets, while Lisa stands at the stove and turns the heat up so the water will boil.
“How do you think they choose the shapes?” Chaeyoung asks.
”What?”
Chaeyoung holds up the macaroni and cheese box. Scooby Doo smiles in all his dopey cartoon glory, and Chaeyoung points at him and repeats her question.
“Maybe there’s a secret society,” Lisa says with mock seriousness, “of people whose sole job is to choose the shapes for kid’s macaroni.”
“You think so?”
“Oh, yeah. They spend their nights agonizing about whether Dora the Explorer or Superman would make a better macaroni noodle. And if they make the right choice, they get an award trophy that says, “Congratulations, You Really Used Your Noodle!”
“But who gives the trophy?” Chaeyoung asks with equal mock seriousness. “Who gets to decide whether they chose the right noodle or not?”
“Children, obviously. Don’t you read?”
Chaeyoung laughs and tosses the macaroni box at her. “Tend to our food, brat.”
“Get me the milk and the butter, brat.”
Lisa pours the macaroni into the pot and stands still while the steam rises to her face. She watches the water dance around in an always-changing formation of bubbles while the macaroni lays helpless on the bottom of the pot, sunk forever by the laws of density.
“Milk,” Chaeyoung says, hoisting the gallon jug onto the countertop, “and butter.”
Lisa says nothing in response, just stands above the stove and watches the water boil. And then Chaeyoung comes to stand behind her and hugs her around her middle, and suddenly the steam from the pot spreads all over Lisa’s body, settling into the hammock of her torso and finding its way to her ears and fingertips. She feels Chaeyoung’s touch everywhere, and when Chaeyoung drops her head onto Lisa’s shoulder and watches the boiling water with her, Lisa’s heart climbs in her chest and peeks out over the water too.
“Can we still do this when we’re in college?” Chaeyoung asks, her voice bare.
Lisa nods very carefully, not wanting to betray her insistent heart or the steam inside of her. Then Chaeyoung turns her head—Lisa can sense it with every nerve inside of her—and kisses Lisa’s cheek. Lisa stills all over, begging her heart to stay balanced where it is, until Chaeyoung moves away from her, as casual as a breeze on the bayou, and opens the refrigerator.
Lisa picks up the ladle for something to do and swirls the macaroni around the pot. Her body feels flushed all over, but she answers as nonchalantly as she can when Chaeyoung asks her if she wants some Coke.
“Sure,” she says. “But is there any caffeine-free? I don’t want my heart to start racing.”
They fall into bed with their stomachs full of macaroni and cheese and their teeth coated with sugar from their Coca-Colas. Chaeyoung wears one of Lisa’s old t-shirts—the softest, best-loved one—and a pair of her Victoria’s Secret PINK shorts. She lies on her stomach and starts to breathe on a sleep cycle almost right away—before Lisa even has a chance to ask her which TV show she wants to watch—so Lisa lies down next to her and re-memorizes the familiar sound of her breathing. The fan blades circle overhead, moving the air in the room so that it washes over them in gentle waves, occasionally carrying Chaeyoung’s scent to Lisa like a bee carries pollen to a flower.
Sometimes, with her heart beating strong in her chest, Lisa realizes that Chaeyoung does not belong to the rest of them. “You’re too good,” Lisa tells her, meaning every word sincerely, offering this truth with a degree of wonder she’s never felt for any other human. “I’m not,” Chaeyoung insists, her long, dark eyebrows drawing together in surprise. But Lisa knows it from fall semesters spent cheering Chaeyoung on at her volleyball matches, when Chaeyoung would score serve after serve after serve while the crowd and her teammates screamed their applause, and then Chaeyoung would approach the opposite team’s captain, the girl who had been crying at the end of the match, and whisper in her ear at the corner of the court when no one was looking. Lisa knows it at a party in mid-February, when she walks upstairs to find Chaeyoung sitting on her knees in the hallway with her arm wrapped around a sophomore girl. “It’s okay,” Chaeyoung soothes while she rubs the girl’s back. “Your name’s Ally, right? You’re going to be okay.” “I feel sick,” the girl says, her voice coming out like the compressed cry of a feverish child, “I want to go home.” “We’ll take you home,” Chaeyoung says, her voice light and gentle and filling up Lisa’s heart. “We’re going to get you some water first. My friend Lisa’s here, and she’s the best person you could ever know. She’ll help me take care of you.”
“You’re too good,” Lisa says after they take the girl home.
“I’m not,” Chaeyoung promises. “You would have done the same.”
“I don’t know that I would have,” Lisa says honestly.
“But I do,” Chaeyoung says with her deep, dark eyes.
Lisa knows that Chaeyoung does not see in herself the same miracle of goodness Lisa sees in her. She knows that Chaeyoung struggles to measure up to her sister, that she desperately craves her mother’s approval that she worries constantly about whether or not she’s a fair team captain or an effective student council president. “You’re amazing,” Lisa wants to tell her. “You’re the best thing that’s ever been.” But Lisa knows that Chaeyoung, when she’s not smiling at parties and laughing with their friends in the parking lot, carries these secret worries in her heart, worries that Lisa wishes she knew the full extent of, worries that Lisa sees in Chaeyoung’s eyes when Chaeyoung thinks no one is looking.
“You’re so much better than you even know,” Lisa says one afternoon when they’re sitting in Chaeyoung’s car, talking through Chaeyoung’s latest argument with her mom. “You’re just—you’re so—I wish you could believe me—”
“What’s funny,” Chaeyoung says, blinking down at their sun-spoiled sweet teas in the console, “is that, when I tell you these same things about yourself, I wish you could believe me, too.”