West Seoul University Series Page 9

  I was embarrassed by his response. His voice was full of concern, not because he was thinking of where we could go to hook up, but as if I’d told him I lost my wallet.

  “I want you,” I mumbled.

  “Stella, you’re really drunk. You need to wear your underwear,” Taehyun said, bending down so I could stand up.

  I didn’t budge. I kept my arms around him as I felt humiliated by the turn of events. What was I thinking? We weren’t in a relationship and he hadn’t even kissed me, yet I’d made the decision to take off the thong I was wearing and wave it in his face.

  “Taehyun, I’m sorry, but I can’t. What if people go past while I’m trying to put it on? They’ll think I’m crazy.”

  Before Taehyun could answer, I stuffed my thong into his pocket. Although he carried me on his back again, we stayed silent until we arrived at the entrance of International House.

  “You have a roommate, right? Can we call her?”

  “Dana,” I muttered.

  Once I handed him my phone, he called her to explain how I was drunk and needed help up to my room. When Dana came out a few minutes later, she looked as if she was in the middle of getting ready to go to bed. Although she was wearing pajamas and her skin looked bare, she hadn’t removed her eye makeup yet.

  Dana stared at Taehyun and me, puzzled. “Stella?”

  “Hi, you must be Stella’s roommate. I’m sorry for making you come outside, but she’s incredibly drunk. She’s been stumbling over. I had to carry her here.”

  “I see, thanks,” Dana said as she put an arm around my shoulder to steady me.

  When Taehyun checked his phone, I called out, “Please don’t go.”

  “Stella, you need to rest. We can grab lunch another time.”

  “Liar,” I slurred.

  “I’m not lying. I promise.”

  I wagged my little finger at him. He chuckled as our fingers entwined.

  Then he turned to Dana. “Thank you so much for helping out.”

  Once Dana and I were back in our room, she let out an exasperated sigh and headed straight to the bathroom.

  Chapter Eleven

  When I arrived at Latin Dance a week later, I couldn’t meet Taehyun’s eyes. Since he was able to carry me on his back and call Dana without any issues, I knew he couldn’t have been blackout drunk. Nevertheless, as I’d undeniably made a fool of myself, I prayed for him to have somehow forgotten the details from the walk to International House.

  As soon as Taehyun saw me, he asked, “How has your week been?”

  For a moment, I wondered if he might’ve been too tired to recall the chaotic end of the night. He was grinning at me without a trace of judgment.

  “Good. How about you?” I replied, studying his face.

  Taehyun sighed. “Kind of boring, I’ve been busy writing papers for my classes and I’ll probably be finishing up this weekend.”

  Professor Hwang yelled out, “Could everybody come over to the stereo? I’d like to tell you all about the next half of the semester!”

  While Taehyun and I rushed to the middle of the hall, he whispered, “How is your left knee, by the way?”

  My cheeks burned as I looked down at the baggy jeans I was wearing.

  “Take care of yourself, Stella. Go easy on the drinks.” Taehyun gave me a gentle pat on the back before facing Professor Hwang.

  Even though he didn’t bring up any other details, such as what he’d done with my lace thong, I knew I could never bring it up with him. Although he was patient with me while we practiced the beginning of the new salsa dance routine, I suspected he was only being polite. Once Professor Hwang dismissed our class, I was relieved to run away from the shame of my drunken mistake. I swiftly grabbed my loafers and forced my feet into my shoes.

  “Hey!” Taehyun said, coming over to me. “Do you want to have lunch with me on Monday?”

  “Me?” I stared at him in disbelief.

  “Of course, you. Are you free at one o’clock?”

  “Sure,” I replied right away, though in my head I was trying to recall whether the lecture for International Political Thought started at one or two.

  He chuckled. “Great, see you then!”

  Once Taehyun walked past, I took my phone out and searched through the photo album for my timetable. Just my luck: International Political Thought with Professor Horton was at one on Monday.

  Before leaving Dounesville in February, I promised Mom that I would make sure to spend time with my grandparents regularly. When she cried at the airport in Chicago, I knew it wasn’t solely because I was going to be away for a year but because she was reminded of them. “Mama” and “Papa” were the only words she mumbled as she wept. I comforted Mom by telling her she should arrange a trip to Seoul while I was on exchange, then assured her I would take care of my grandparents, who had generously purchased a first-class plane ticket for me.

  As I got along comfortably with my grandparents and enjoyed talking to them, I felt especially guilty for not staying with them more often. Although their house was spacious enough for me to have my own walk-in closet and bathroom, I became so preoccupied with university life and spent my weekends hungover in my little dorm room. No matter how I tried to justify myself, I was tired from going out at night, not from studying in the library.

  While Grandma didn’t pressure me to visit her and Grandpa, she called me to ask if I wanted to go to the salon with her to trim my short hair. Since midterm period had ended, I told her I would sleep over on Saturday. After all, I just needed to go on a subway across the city, a trip Taehyun made at least five times a week.

  Once I returned from Monday’s Hair, I spent Saturday evening helping Grandma make spicy braised chicken. After dinner, I sat next to Grandpa on the sofa while Grandma relaxed on the massage chair across the room. There was a large plate of assorted fruits on the coffee table.

  “No strawberries today, Lala,” Grandpa said with a pout, making me giggle. “But we have delicious melons, mandarin oranges, and raspberries.”

  “No worries, Grandpa. I love these yellow melons. They don’t have them in America.”

  “America… Lala, have you talked to your parents recently?” Grandpa asked, putting his cane aside.

  “No,” I replied, wondering if Mom had been complaining to my grandparents.

  He explained, “Your parents are visiting Seoul for two weeks in summer. Your mother called us yesterday and said she booked the flights.”

  “I’m so glad to hear that they’re coming. Grandpa, Mom was crying when she was sending me off at the airport. I think it was because she wanted to go on the plane with me. She always insists that she enjoys the small-town life, but I know she suffers from bouts of homesickness. I know she misses you and Grandma.”

  “Your mother is still a little girl at heart. She’s my little girl,” Grandpa said before he popped a raspberry into his mouth.

  “You must miss her a lot,” I murmured.

  “Of course,” Grandpa replied, his brown eyes glistening as he kneaded his right leg. “Lala, I miss her every day. If it weren’t for my health and bad leg, we would travel to America every year. I can’t go a day without wondering if she’s happy and safe. When your grandmother and I watch television, we get paranoid about news reports on blizzards and storms and shootings in America. Sometimes, your grandmother would panic and beat her chest with her fist.”

  “No I don’t!” Grandma called out.

  “You used to,” Grandpa said.

  When I opened my mouth, tears welled in my eyes. “Oh Grandpa, it must’ve been heartbreaking for you and Grandma. America is such a huge country though. I wish you didn’t worry so much.”

  “Right, your family lives in Illinois, not Texas or Florida or California. But still, all those places are in America. When I think about America, the first thing that comes to mind is my precious daughter and granddaughter.” Grandpa paused, then added, “And your father too, although I will always be upset…”

>   I asked, “Because Mom didn’t marry a Korean person?”

  Grandpa chuckled. “No, I like your father. I would just like him more if he moved here with your mother.”

  When Grandpa’s eyes met mine, I began to laugh along with him.

  Grandma cleared her throat and spoke up. “Love, when your mother said she was going to marry a foreigner, I was shocked. Even though she had been studying art abroad, I never expected her to fall in love with somebody who wasn’t Korean. Since I didn’t know anyone who married a foreigner, I was uncomfortable with the idea at first.”

  “Me too,” Grandpa chimed in. “Your father had blue eyes, like a doll.”

  Grandma continued. “Then your mother revealed all the difficulties she went through while she was studying in America and told us how he had been there for her. When she brought your father home, he greeted us in Korean. His pronunciation was difficult to follow, but he explained to us that he started learning Korean to communicate with us. I was amazed. Not only because I’d never seen a tall foreign man speak in Korean, but because I was touched. Your father won us over because he put in the effort to prove his commitment to your mother. I realized he truly loved her and would treat her well.”

  “Your father is a good man, Stella,” Grandpa said with a nod.

  Grandma smiled. “Although I used to wish your mother lived here in Seoul so that I could’ve been there for her while she was raising you, I’m glad she married your father. I know he’s someone who won’t let her down.”

  When Grandma finished speaking, she got up from the massage chair and came over to sit next to Grandpa. As she rested her head on Grandpa’s shoulder, I gazed at her with a fuzzy feeling inside.

  “I didn’t know my parents had such a romantic past,” I remarked as I took a bite of melon.

  Grandpa winked. “Your mother takes after both of us.”

  I laughed. “Okay, now you have to tell me how you and Grandma met. Otherwise, I won’t be able to sleep tonight.”

  Grandpa replied, “Lala, our love story is very simple. Your grandmother and I grew up in the same village. Your grandmother loved me, so we got married. Everyone in the village approved of the marriage and we’ve been living happily ever after since.”

  “I don’t remember that being the case, other than the part about the village.” Grandma gazed at him wistfully. “Love, I was nineteen years old when my parents told me they wanted me to get married.”

  “You were my age,” I whispered to myself.

  Grandma said, “The person they wanted me to marry was your grandfather. I knew him since I was a little girl. We grew up together. To me, your grandfather was a silly boy who liked to catch frogs and climb apple trees. On the other hand, your grandfather was over the moon to marry me because I was the most beautiful woman in our village at the time.”

  “You most definitely were.” Grandpa nodded proudly. “I won you over.”

  Grandma looked over at me. “Initially, I wasn’t sure about your grandfather since he seemed like a child. I doubted whether he was a reliable grown man I could start a family with. For a while, I tried to make a fuss and delay the wedding preparations. Then our lives changed overnight. A lethal influenza virus spread from village to village in our region. Many of our family and friends were affected. Your grandfather lost his younger brothers.”

  “My brothers were my best friends growing up,” Grandpa said.

  Grandma continued. “Soon after, I lost my mother. Both of our families were going through a dark time. Our entire village was destitute after what happened. There was no more wedding planning as our families were struggling to survive. Had your grandfather been any other person, I think we would’ve never gotten married. Do you know what he did?”

  I shook my head as I listened intently.

  “Your grandfather came over every day. He would bring food and make sure I was managing. Even when he was exhausted from working, he came over and tried to help me. Eventually, I found myself doing the same. I started checking up on his family and seeing if there was anything they needed. Sometimes, we held each other and cried for hours. Later, as your grandfather prepared to move to Seoul, I insisted on going with him. I told him we were getting married first, of course.”

  For a while, I stopped munching on the long slice of melon I was holding with a fork. I looked at my grandparents in silence. As I saw them lean against each other and breathe in unison, reveling in the familiarity of one another’s presence, I was filled with joy and hope.

  Grandma said, “Stella, you’re a clever young woman. I’m sure you’ll figure your life out on your own. But since you asked about our love story, I do want to tell you what love means to me. Love is about commitment and dedication. I believe if somebody is the right person for you and loves you with all their heart, they will stay by your side during hardships and never leave you in the dark because they’re going through a rough time. The power of love comes from growing closer together through the tribulations and tragedies that arise.”

  On Sunday night, I received a message from Taehyun while I was listening to a salsa band performance through my headphones. He wanted to check that we were having lunch at one o’clock the next day and suggested we meet outside the front gate of the university. The moment I read his message, I was so thrilled I wanted to bounce up and down on my bed. After I deliberated on what to send in response, I decided to just tell him I couldn’t wait to see him. Then I remembered I hadn’t told Dana about meeting Taehyun for lunch.

  I yelled out, “Dana, Dana, Dana! Do you want to guess who I’m having lunch with tomorrow?”

  Dana was sitting at her desk, working on an assignment. Although she didn’t respond, I decided to tell her anyway.

  “Taehyun! He asked me to have lunch with him on Friday.”

  “Okay,” Dana muttered without looking up from her laptop.

  “Enough about me. Dana, how are things with you and Joon? Have you guys been hanging out much?”

  “Stella,” Dana said, finally glancing over at me. “I’m busy writing a paper right now. Can you please be quiet?”

  I wondered if she was upset because of something to do with Joon. Since the party at Lil Bottle, we didn’t have the chance to discuss our love lives. Although I was reminded of when I bumped into Joon by the vending machines and wanted to know if she was still trying to pursue him, I figured I’d find out later.

  “Sorry! I’ll stop talking!” I called out to her.

  I looked at my phone and saw that Taehyun had already replied. Once I read his message, I couldn’t stop the corners of my mouth from curving up. He told me he was also looking forward to seeing me and added that we should meet up for lunch more often.

  Although I had no classes in the morning, I got up early on Monday. Once I showered and picked out a lilac blouse to wear with a pair of white jeans, I decided to empty out my backpack and throw in the items I would need for my afternoon classes. As I gathered the textbooks to put in my bag, I remembered I was going to skip International Political Thought to meet up with Taehyun for lunch. I knew I shouldn’t be missing class, especially when I didn’t have anyone to ask for notes, but I told myself it was only one day and couldn’t help but squeal alone in my dorm room.

  As I started to sort through what was already in my backpack, mostly snack wrappers and loose sheets of lined paper, I saw a small pink envelope exactly like the one I’d previously found in my pocket. Bursting with curiosity, I immediately opened the envelope and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper.

  Once I unfolded it, I read out the first line: “Farewell, thou art too dear for my possessing.”

  I snorted. Was this another sonnet by Shakespeare? The situation was ridiculous. I presumed I was either being pranked or mistaken for somebody else. Though I wasn’t sure what to do, the sheer absurdity of anonymously receiving sonnets made me hold back from telling anyone. I didn’t want my friends to think I was pleased with myself for receiving such strange love letters, esp
ecially when I had no idea who was involved. Besides, I would be mortified if people didn’t believe me and instead thought I was writing out the poems myself.

  Before shoving the paper and envelope into my desk drawer, I took out my phone to find out where the first line of the letter was from. The poem was Sonnet 87 by Shakespeare. For a second, I tried to picture Taehyun copying down the sonnet and burst into a fit of laughter. Reading through Shakespeare’s collection of sonnets and secretly writing out an entire poem was incredibly over the top, even for a literature enthusiast. To add, the poem seemed to be about ending a relationship, which didn’t seem fitting because Taehyun and I were still in the process of getting to know each other.

  I left my dorm early to enjoy a leisurely walk to the front gate of West Seoul University. On my way there, I came across a large crowd standing outside Sul Student Center. Since I wasn’t in a rush, I joined them to check out what was going on. I promptly found out they were gathered around a camera crew for a new television drama series. While the members of the camera crew were setting up their equipment, the students behind me were discussing the names of the lead actresses and actors.

  “And apparently there’s this rookie actor, Phil Oh?”

  When I heard what one of the students said as he pushed me to get closer to the front, my knees felt wobbly and I nearly fell backward.

  “Is that the model-turned-actor? I heard he was supposed to be on the show, but there was a casting change.”

  “Are you sure? Well, I’m not surprised. I swear there’s always a casting change.”

  “I know, right? I hope the actors get here soon.”

  My face began to heat up as I considered the possibility of seeing Phil. What if the students were wrong? What if he was going to arrive here to film for the show? He obviously wouldn’t have the time to talk to me and I didn’t want to give him the ego boost of seeing me in the crowd. Although I wasn’t running late, I frantically shoved past the other students and hurried toward the front gate. After I messaged Taehyun to tell him I arrived early, I tried to forget about the camera crew on campus and was reminded of the pink envelope I found in my backpack.