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Chapter 5…
The Scent of Strawberries
I had an unusually strong fondness for the number one. So, when I found out that I had been assigned to Class 1-1, I was so excited that I could hardly sleep. I had dreamed of starting school for so long that, on the day after the entrance ceremony—in other words, my first official day of school—I woke up at five in the morning. And no, neither Mom nor Dad had woken me up.
I pestered Mom, who hadn’t even wiped the sleep from her eyes yet, to braid my hair. I kept breakfast simple with toast, and for my outfit, I chose a white blouse and my favorite denim suspender skirt. I even dug out a pair of lace-trimmed socks and finished getting ready for school.
As I smiled with satisfaction at my reflection in the mirror, my heart was beating so fast.
What kind of child would my deskmate be? I couldn’t wait to become a second-grader and have younger students looking up to me.
As an only child, I preferred younger siblings to older brothers or sisters. Besides, there was a distinct difference in how the words younger sibling and junior sounded. Just imagining a first-grader politely greeting me as their senior made the corners of my mouth twitch with excitement.
“We’re here, my little princess. Let’s get out now. Mommy will open the door for you, so wait a moment.”
Before getting out of Mom’s car, I took a moment to check my hair. Pigtails: perfect. Sky-blue ribbons: perfect. Giving myself two thumbs-up, I hopped out of the car.
“Be careful. What are you going to do if you fall?”
“Okay!”
That day, when Mom smiled so warmly at me, was still as vivid as yesterday. I could even remember the cozy feeling of holding her hand and chatting with her among the countless parents escorting their children to the school gate. I was looking at a woman wearing the green school safety patrol vest, asking Mom when it would be her turn to wear one.
“Eunyoung!”
“Oh, Sooyoung!”
Aunt Sooyoung waved at us as she got out of a white sedan. Mom waved back, too. They exchanged greetings as naturally as if they had already arranged to meet.
“Did you get a new car? It’s pretty.”
“My husband bought it for me to use when I drive Junjae to school…”
“Honestly, the more I see him, the more I think your husband is such a devoted husband. I’m so jealous.”
In no time, a close friendship had blossomed between Aunt Sooyoung and Mom. Perhaps it was because they had only met a few days ago.
Meanwhile, I was the only one sulking, puffing out my lips because we were already running late compared to the time we had planned to arrive at school.
“Oh, right! Junjae.”
Only after noticing my pout did Aunt Sooyoung hurriedly open the car door.
“Get out, Junjae.”
He had no intention of getting out until his mother told him to. I thought Cha Junjae had reached the terminal stage of prince syndrome.
“Junjae’s coat is pretty.”
Mom, who always wanted to buy me every pretty outfit she happened to see, eyed his clothes with interest. That meant I would probably get another pretty new outfit, too. But this time, things were different.
Cha Junjae’s shiny black sneakers touched the pavement. According to Aunt Sooyoung, the brown coat and jeans he was wearing were imported designer brands.
“Junjae. Mommy told you yesterday, didn’t she? If there’s anything you don’t know, ask our smart little Eundam here.”
“That’s right. Our Eundam is quite clever, isn’t she?”
Mom had been practically drooling at the mention of imported goods, but hearing someone praise her daughter made her shoulders rise with pride again.
However, the shoulders of the person being praised—that was me—slumped miserably.
The thorn that had developed a taste for poking at me had begun its attack.
Cha Junjae, who listened to every word his mother said with astonishing obedience, stuck to my side like a tag that wouldn’t come off.
“We’re off!”
I became like a wild pony with a fire lit under its backside. A leisurely walk to school, breathing in the fresh scent of spring, was officially out of the question. This was a frantic chase with no time to catch my breath.
Whenever I got a creepy feeling and looked behind me, Cha Junjae was there, following close behind with an expressionless face. It was as if someone had attached a magnet to my schoolbag. He followed me so faithfully, step after step.
With Cha Junjae glaring at me with wide-open eyes, as though afraid I might escape, I wanted nothing more than to collapse on the ground and cry.
What if he follows me around like a leech every single day?
I hurried up the school stairs, and soon the classroom of Class 1-1 came into view. It was the same classroom I had visited while holding my parents’ hands.
The thought of having to drag Cha Junjae around with me until the end of the school year made my vision go dark.
“Welcome!”
But my childish worries melted away like snow the moment I faced my homeroom teacher.
The beautiful female teacher I had seen on the entrance ceremony day was standing at the podium.
“Come in and sit wherever you’d like.”
I’ll become class president and earn the teacher’s special affection!
Burning with adorable enthusiasm, I sat at the desk in the first row. They say it’s best to sit as close to the teacher and the blackboard as possible.
I wanted to look different from the children who were sitting stiffly, frozen with nervousness. I straightened my posture with dignity and hung my bag on the hook.
“Hm? Why are you standing there? Come on in.”
Unfortunately, however, the person who caught the teacher’s kind gaze wasn’t me.
It was Cha Junjae, who was standing quietly in front of the classroom door.
Like any sensitive young girl, I clapped a hand over my mouth.
My anxiety was perfectly justified. Cha Junjae wasn’t simply standing there. His eyes were rolling around as he searched for me.
“This is Class 1-1. Are you sure you’ve come to the right classroom?”
On the first day of school, it wasn’t unusual for younger students to enter the wrong classroom.
But Cha Junjae had found the exact class he belonged to.
Without answering, he scanned the children one by one with his eyes. Then, when his gaze reached me, it stopped dead.
No… Don’t come over here.
I desperately prayed in my heart, but once Cha Junjae spotted me, his steps didn’t falter.
Gripping the straps of his black schoolbag firmly, Cha Junjae stepped over the classroom threshold.
Rattle.
The chair he pulled out was unmistakably the one beside me.
Without even hanging up his bag, he placed it on top of his desk and casually dropped into the chair.
He was my deskmate.
We had become deskmates.
My deskmate, who smelled like strawberry shampoo, had been replaced by Cha Junjae.
The candy in the front pocket of my schoolbag wasn’t something I had brought to give to Cha Junjae!
Eventually, as the empty seats gradually filled up, the teacher stood up and introduced herself.
Her greeting was warm and gentle, perfectly suited to the eye level of young children. But since I was unhappy with my deskmate, my nose turned red, and I barely managed to respond.
That was one of my flaws.
Whenever one thing went wrong, I couldn’t see anything else that came after it. I would simply give up halfway through.
My narrow-minded perspective couldn’t tolerate even the tiniest imperfection. All I could see were the things Cha Junjae had taken from me and the things he was going to take away in the future.
If only I had turned a blind eye to those little inconveniences, would I have been able to accept what happened afterward more easily?
But there was no way to change what had already happened.
So all I could do was bitterly hate the very cause of everything.
“Song Eundam. Hey.”
“Yes?”
“Stop drinking. You’re drinking like you’ve made up your minds to live like grown-ups tonight.”
I mentally counted the beer bottles I had emptied while using the adults’ chatter as a side dish.
There were more than seven empty bottles by now, and I let out a sigh.
It was practically guaranteed that I’d have to walk while pushing my bicycle home. Once midnight passed, drunkards would spill out into the streets. The best thing to do was leave before that happened.
“Mom, Dad. I think I’ll head back to my accommodation. I’m tired…”
“Where do you think you’re going? At this hour?”
“It’s okay. There are still plenty of people around even at this time.”
But Mom caught my wrist just as I was trying to escape and pulled me back down into my seat.
“Do you think your mom and dad are that careless? We rented the biggest accommodation we could find, and it has plenty of rooms. Go there and sleep. Where does a drunk girl think she’s going at this hour?”
Mom’s efforts to search through blogs and find a place that could accommodate seven people had finally paid off.
Her intention was obviously to keep her daughter firmly tied down while on vacation, but now that I was drunk, I was more than willing to let myself get caught.
After all, it wasn’t easy for a drunk person to push a bicycle all the way back.
“Which room is it?”
“Here, take this key.”
Once things went their way, Mom and Dad smiled happily.
Just hearing their laughter made my stomach churn. Judging by that, I was probably on the verge of getting completely wasted.
I slowly walked across the sandy beach and left the restaurant. Then I staggered into the resort, which was practically right next door, breathing out alcohol with every exhale.
The feeling of walking straight into a trap my parents had prepared with my own two feet was absolutely wonderful.
I could feel grains of sand trapped inside my slippers as I entered the resort.
A walking path lined with palm trees and lush green grass stretched out before me, the kind of place where I could easily collapse and lie down. I staggered along it.
I had heard there was an outdoor swimming pool at the resort.
I gazed absentmindedly at the pool steps, illuminated by dazzling white lights, before continuing on my way.
A Korean tourist, identified as Ms. A, drowns in an overseas swimming pool after drinking too much.
It wasn’t that I wanted to make headlines with some ridiculous article like that.
But instinctively, I was drawn to places where there was water.
Perhaps I wanted to drown the thorn that had finished growing inside me.
