A week after that beautifully fateful day, my throat started growing irritably sore and as always, I noticed it almost instantly. I am frustrated at myself for not telling my mum the second I caught on because I would not be feeling as shite as I do right now. After the first two days, nothing but a peep would leave my lips no matter how hard I tried to speak. Now, I can say bits and pieces while being cut off at times.
The sandpapery scratch I am experiencing in my throat whenever I cough is fucking annoying. I have a fever that persists whether I am awake or asleep. My head is constantly throbbing, and it feels like ants are painfully pricking my insides. Surprise-surprise, I have contracted the flu yet again. The rain that I encountered while returning from Dominic's house has caused this illness to worsen.
The closer I am to nearing the door even while dragging my feet against the floor, the knocking incessantly continues. I cannot find it in me to tell the person on the other end that I'm on my way.
When I open the door, my mum quickly squeezes in past me. A sniffle rings throughout the house from me and I tiredly close the door shut behind her. Glancing down at the brown, paper bag that crinkles loudly in her grasp, I assume that she brought some more medicine back home for me. Perhaps I will be healthy and back at school by tomorrow.
I have missed way too much schoolwork, especially with the assessments before the summer holiday being right around the corner.
"Why did it take you so long to open the door?" she immediately questions me, shrugging her white coat off.
"Uh… because I'm sick," I whine, noticing the familiar husky tone that leaves with my words. "Also, why did you need me to open the door for you? Don't you have your own key?"
She disinterestedly hangs her coat on the rack by the door, like she always prompts us to do. One of her rules. I never follow that one… or any of the other ones. After throwing her lunch bag on the sofa, she sits down comfortably. Guess she has forgotten her other rule: No bags on the sofa; just take it up to your room with you.
I raise the soft, blue blanket over my head and with a purposeful groan, I sink down into the space next to her. If Chu Hua finds me using her blanket in my ill state, she'll get very cranky what with her being so afraid of germs. I'll try and guilt-trip her into letting me keep it. It's strangely nice and cuddly; makes being sick seem like not such a bad thing after all.
"What are you doing at home so early? Aren't you supposed to be at work?"
"Well, I swapped with Han-Marie and took a graveyard shift." She quickly flips through the mail, piling the bills on the coffee table. "I'll probably go back at seven or something."
"Yeah?" I muse in confusion.
"Mm-hmm."
She places the rest of the envelopes down and mutters about none of the mail being from today. Then she turns around to watch me softly. Placing a hand on my forehead, she feels how feverish I am and my lips twitch into a small grin at the familiarity of this action. I remember back when Appa was still alive, he would always do this whenever I fell sick even if he wasn't a doctor. It's strangely something I yearn to feel when I am sick, for her to show the care of a parent and the expertise of a physician.
Just as she's about to feel my chest underneath my loose shirt, I slap her hand away and glare at her petulantly. Now that is taking it a bit too far. When I said I wanted her to show the expertise of a physician, I didn't mean that.
"Why were you out in the rain? You just got cured from the flu you had not so long ago."
She's not wrong, I did just get cured of the flu not so long ago. Now, it's back with a vengeance.
How much do I want to disclose to her about how I inevitably caught the flu again after being out in the rain from getting rejected by Dominic once again? After he kissed me too, that point is very significant. I merely lay my head on her shoulder, watching her under my droopy eyelids with a look that silently conveys my reluctance to say anything. She shifts her concerned, soft gaze onto me.
"Seong Jin, you have got to stop hiding the truth from me. I'm your mum and we should talk."
I shift away from her in discomfort when she says that.
We should talk?
"You know, spill the beans? Gossip with me. About boy stuff. Crushes. What goes on in that head of yours?"
Oh, God. This is awkward.
"God, Franklin is so much better at this than I am."
True.
My mum makes it impossible to spill the beans and gossip with her about my high school years.
While I was in primary school, I told her about how Jodie would date boys for two weeks and then dump them, and you want to know what she did? She warned me not to even think about dating, because if I did then she'd bury my head between her knees and squeeze it tight until my brain splattered everywhere. As a kid, the image didn't seem very appealing. Obviously.
I think that might be why I'm constantly vlogging. I never did have someone to talk to. I don't have an older brother who I trust to teach me his experiences or even lend an ear to listen to my growing pains. I think I trust Franklin more than I do my mum because he is so accommodating and that's why I tell him things I could never tell her. Even so, I don't think I could ever open up about romantic feelings and crushes to him either. Having someone, or rather something, that I can vent all my emotions to and something to tell all my secrets to is relieving.
"I went to see Dominic," I say softly, hiding my face in the crook of her neck.
"The boy who almost fell out of your window?" I slowly bob my head up and down to her enquiry. "Should I be bringing condoms home from work for you?"
"Amma!" I rear back in shock and my voice cracks at my exclaim.
She watches me with innocent eyes as if to silently say, "What?"
"No. We're not… doing that. We're not even dating."
"Well, from the sneaking out what did you expect me to assume?"
I regard her with a flabbergasted gaze. How does she know I sneaked out?
"Yes, I know that you sneaked out and went wherever you went with that boy. You think I don't know my own son?"
"Yang Jin told you, didn't he?"
"Yes."
"He's such a snitch," I snarl irritably and then glance at her musingly. "Did you know that he's pansexual?"
"Why would you out him like that?" she reprimands me. "What if I didn't know?"
"So, you did know?" I muse in surprise. "How come I'm the only person in this family who didn't know that my own brother is pansexual?"
She arches an eyebrow at me in a banal manner, as if to ask me if I'm honestly asking that question and yes, I am. I am genuinely curious about this. Why wouldn't Yang Jin want to tell me about his sexuality? Yes, we've had our rough patches in the past what with me always blaming him for certain things, like stealing from the cookie jar when we were younger or even snoring too loudly; so loudly that I woke up and stole cookies from the cookie jar, but for the most part we've been cool.
Right?
"Well, you are kind of judgemental."
"I'm not judgemental."
She arches another eyebrow.
"Okay, maybe a little but I wouldn't judge him for something that's out of his control. I'd judge him for something he did intentionally like snitching on me for example or maybe even stealing from the cookie jar; not for being pansexual."
"You stole from the cookie jar, Seong Jin. Everyone knows that."
"What?" I drag out in a higher octave, and she watches me flatly. "Okay, yes. It was me. They were so good though, Amma."
"Anyway, we're not talking about Yang Jin. We're talking about that boy you risked everything for and sneaked out with. Dominic, right?"
I nod my head up and down affirmatively. Awkward again.
"You know, it's okay if you date him? I don't mind," she says, but I can tell from how her face pinches that it took everything out of her to say that and again, I rest my head on her shoulder, sniffling. "You're turning eighteen in a few days. I should probably ease up on you. I'm honestly shocked you haven't rebelled yet. I know I would have."
If you only knew, Mum. If you only knew.
"He's dating Jodie."
"Jodie Dillon?"
"Yeah."
"Shame." She gives me a sympathetic look, running a hand through my hair.
She's not even going to try and attempt to give me advice on how to win his heart, how to make him like me back. That's how much girl code means to my mum. She'd rather I stay with my unrequited feelings than stab a friend in the back, even if they are an ex-friend. I gulp as we dwell in the silence and try to focus on her fingers drawing soothing circles into my scorching, hot scalp, but I can't stop it when a thought so loud hits me. I try to ignore it at first, but it continues to pester me until I eventually have to voice it.
"Amma?"
She answers with a sound behind her throat.
"Do you think I'm unloving?"
"Sweetie," she starts warmly, that motherly tone in her voice and when I don't meet her gaze, she pushes her two fingers under my chin and brings my eyes up to connect with her, "You know it's unlovable; not unloving."
"Can you not right now?"
She chuckles under her breath, pushing her hair out of her eyes. "Nobody is unlovable, Seong Jin. Even if you haven't found your soulmate yet or what you kids of today call the one, you're still young."
I don't feel young still.
"You have all the time in the world. I know it may not seem like it and turning eighteen puts a little pressure on you. You start feeling like you're old now even if you're far from it. You don't need to rush into love and relationships."
Then why do I feel like I do?
"That's why I'm always so hard on you. I know what "love" does to you and I don't think you're ready for that. Then again, maybe you are, maybe I have been too hard on you."
She has been a bit strict on me, that's for sure.
"Just as I always say, there's a time and place for everything. All you need to do is pace yourself. If it was meant to be then it'll happen. Don't try to force something when it is not meant to happen then, okay, hon?"
I nod.
If it was meant to be then it'll happen.
I don't think fate wants me to be with Dominic. I think fate waits for the perfect opportunity to screw with me. I'm just not meant to be in a relationship of any kind with anybody. It strangely feels like a hole is yet to be filled in my life like I haven't experienced the full high school experience until I get a high school sweetheart who'll most probably break my heart. It seems like a petty conundrum to be thinking about, a first-world problem, but that is the reality of my situation.
"Seong Jin!"
I look up from the abrupt yell and catch my younger sister springing up and down at the doorway. Ji Ho walks in behind her and rolls his eyes at his twin sister's exaggerated reaction. She's waving a large envelope around in the air, letting out the occasional squeal. What is going on? Did somebody die outside? Is that envelope about Halmeoni finally kicking the bucket? No, I don't want my grandmother to die. Of course, not. I'm not that evil. At least let her have one more Christmas before doing that.
"You got an interview. It's from the University of Crawford."
"Crawford?"
"Oxford," Ji Ho signs with his hands behind her. "She meant Oxford."
"What?"
I promptly rise to my feet from the comfortable sofa and hasten towards her. She hands me the envelope in an agitated manner, and I notice it has already been torn open. I refrain from enquiring why she was sifting through the mail since my hands are quivering as I extract the letter that was meant for me. As I peruse the contents of the letter, a smile creeps up on my face and I let out a small giggle, accompanied by brief exhales of air. This is the type of laughter that escapes when you are taken aback by something.
Abruptly, when the letter comes to an end, I purse my lips. Thinking of each word brings involuntary, happy tears to my eyes. With a watery laugh, I hand the letter to my mum.
As she reads it, I turn my attention back to my sister who is grinning from ear to ear. She rushes towards me excitedly and I embrace her tightly, feeling relieved and ecstatic. She is the one person who understands how worried I have been, anxiously waiting for a response from my dream university, the significance of my getting accepted into the school, and how much effort I put into it. My constant email checking was beginning to get on her nerves a bit.
"Now you can finally shut up about it," she mumbles irritably.
"Chu Hua, you really need to stop snooping through my stuff. Come here, Ji Ho. Bring it in you cute, little kitten."
He frowns and runs away before I can bring him into our embrace.
"Or you can just run away. That works too."
"The mailman gave me the letter by the way. I wasn't snooping," she retorts, voice muffled by my chest as I tighten my arms around her. Rearing back, she then questions softly, "Why are you using my blankie by the way?"
"What?" I muse, watching her as innocently as I can.
"Why are you using blankie while you're sick, Seong Jin?" she demands, glaring up at me angrily.
I gulp, planning to guilt-trip her into letting me keep blankie. At least just until I get better. Opening my mouth, I prepare to change the subject from the blankie to something, anything, else until a cough attacks me. Right in front of her face. Chu Hua screams in horror, pushing me away to escape my clutches and she quickly runs over to my mum who glares at me scoldingly.
"Amma, Seong Jin got all his germs on me!"
"It was an accident."
"Let's go wash it off. I can't get sick. You know that I get sick for weeks," she prompts urgently, "and then I'll be too sick to celebrate Christmas over at Kayla's."
After telling Chu Hua that she won't be able to go to Kayla's either way, because we'll be spending Christmas over at my grandparents in South Korea, Amma places the acceptance letter in my hand and lets herself get dragged by Chu Hua's whining self. She does rush back to yank blankie from me.
I feel like vlogging this, so I hurry upstairs to grab my camera. It's been a while since I last did it, but the excitement I felt during my first time talking to the camera returns. I recall when my father gave it to me for the first time. I was thrilled and delighted to capture images of everything.
I close my door behind me. Settling onto my unmade bed cross-legged after finding the camera underneath the piles of clothes strewn all over my bedroom floors, I sigh deeply.
Another cough escapes me and after rubbing my palm across my cold nose, I pinch my eyes shut tightly. Jesus, I am not feeling great right now and if my mum walks in here and sees this disaster zone, she is going to blow a fuse no matter how sick I may be. That is quickly shoved to the back of my mind as an excited, lopsided grin takes over my entire expression. From ear to ear. In my mind, I look like a right neek.
For this very moment, I forget every shitty, little thing going on in my life and focus on this achievement.
I'm going to Oxfordshire, baby.
Pressing the record button, I smile at my old friend.