I wondered if he had brought me along just to make me feel that way.
He fell silent again. The tapping sound on the tablet screen continued intermittently. Just as I was starting to suspect that I wasn’t overthinking it and he indeed wanted to mess with me, the car had stopped moving. Only then did I properly turn my head to look out the window. I recognized the familiar school gate.
“We’ve already arrived at my school…”
“I know.”
His response was curt, as if he didn’t need to hear it.
So, do I just open the door and get out? Is it okay to just leave like this?
While I was uncertain, he lifted his head from the tablet, which I saw out of the corner of my eye. He made a gesture towards something in front of him. Right away, the driver’s door opened. The driver got out, then he walked around the front of the car and approached my side. It felt like I was being dismissed. Either that, or it was as if he thought I didn’t have hands to open the door myself.
But such reasons weren’t why I hesitated to leave the car.
“Oh, the question I was going to ask.”
Just before the door on my side opened, he spoke as if he had just remembered something he had forgotten. I turned my head towards him. At that moment, the door next to me swung open. Instead of getting out, I looked at him expectantly and waited. He didn’t look at me but kept his eyes on the tablet in his lap. Without even glancing in my direction, he responded indifferently.
“There’s nothing as such.”
I felt deflated.
“I don’t have anything to say where others can hear. I believe the driver’s ears are ears too.”
I became self-conscious of the driver standing by the open door.
I felt deceived. I could have refused the offer from my stepfather’s son to drive me to school, but I couldn’t reject it since he claimed he had something to ask of me. Feeling tricked, I sighed inwardly and turned my gaze to the other side. I wasn’t in the position to ask why he tricked me. I stepped out of the car, keeping my eyes on the deserted school gate as I had arrived earlier than usual.
Though reluctant, I felt it was only polite to thank him, so I turned around. The sight that greeted me startled me, and my shoulders flinched involuntarily. Within that short moment, his head was turned towards me, eyes staring. His gaze felt oppressive. I froze, our eyes locked, like someone who couldn’t look away at will.
How long did we stay like that, eyes locked? His gaze slowly moved down, from my eyes to my now unswollen cheeks, my anxiously pressed lips, and my thin neck. His gaze raking over my appearance like a man appraising a product, lingered on one spot. He didn’t say a word. Only the faint sound of the wind passed between us. Just as time seemed to stop in the silent tension, his lips parted slowly.
“Ji Yewoon?”
His call was dry, as if he was reading something. Only then did I realize that his gaze had stopped on my chest, where my name tag was. It wasn’t a call expecting an answer, as he murmured “Ji Yewoon…” to himself once more, his lips moving. When I least expected it, I made eye contact with the man again. Suddenly, my eyes locked with his dark pupils as they looked upward.
“Song Yewoon sounds prettier.”
It was a strange remark.
“This one doesn’t suit you much.”
He said it with a smile and a relaxed expression. I stood there, dumbfounded, unable to respond.
When the door closed, cutting off my view of him, and the car drove away, I remained motionless until the previously quiet school gate became busy with other students and the luxury sedans that brought them. It was only then that I came to my senses. As I moved my stiff legs and walked through the school gate, I kept replaying his words in my mind.
‘This one doesn’t suit you much.’
I already knew that. It was too obvious to be hurt by it, as I never had any expectations. It was only natural that my new stepbrother and new last name wouldn’t suit me. It was a warning not to act too familiar with him, as he didn’t welcome his new younger sibling.
I wasn’t so clueless or foolish that I wouldn’t understand that. No, from the start, I had never considered my new family to be closely related to me. Even if my new stepfather was kind and wealthy, that one fact wouldn’t change. I was too aware of my place to overstep my bounds.
Even thinking he might accept my gratitude for the ride was too much of an illusion.
* * *
I thought I was used to adapting to new environments. Moving from one tiny room to another, from one dad’s house to another, and just as I was getting used to navigating the new school, I would transfer again. I had grown accustomed to such changes without much complaint.
However, I realized belatedly that it was because I had only moved to similar environments. From a dad with a lot of debt to one with less, from a dad who earned money through odd jobs to one with a meager salary. Since the men my mother dated were in similar situations, I could adapt to changes within the same social class without much difficulty. But now, stepping into a class I had never imagined, even adapting to the new environment was overwhelming.
I ended up with an illness that I didn’t have before. I developed insomnia.
I was still uncomfortable in this house, constantly feeling aware of my surroundings. So, even though the next day was the weekend, I couldn’t imagine myself joyfully sleeping in late. Even if sleep didn’t seem forthcoming, I stayed in bed, waiting. The clock on the nightstand read 3 AM, but I didn’t seem to be falling asleep at all. Maybe I should at least close my eyes. That might make staying up all night less exhausting. With that thought, I tried to hold out with my eyes closed until breakfast. But I couldn’t endure it and got up. I heard warm water helps with insomnia. With the thought of trying anything to sleep, I quietly stepped out of my room, careful not to make a sound.
It was late at night, with the garden lights off. The only light in the dark house was the moonlight streaming through the windows. Even leaving the lights on in my room this late made me self-conscious. So, even if I couldn’t sleep, I lay down in the dark room, waiting for sleep to come.
It hadn’t always been this way. On sleepless nights, I would read textbooks or watch TV with the sound off in my closed room. But I stopped doing even that after my mom hit me hard on the back of my head for seeing light escaping from my room. After that, I turned off the lights at midnight.
My mom had stopped hitting my body indiscriminately ever since we moved into this house. Instead, she hit my head, where it wouldn’t show. The head, struck by her hand wearing a ring encrusted with heavy jewels, ached more than any other blow. Since then, no matter how sleepless, I turned off the lights and pretended to sleep, doing nothing.
Thus, I was acting very cautious now. I tiptoed down the stairs, fearing my mom might wake up and hit me again if she heard any noise. The kitchen beyond the first-floor living room glowed faintly. Though the house was only lit by moonlight, the kitchen stood out like a beacon, guiding me. Relieved, I crept towards the kitchen like a cat burglar.
“Oh…”
I hadn’t realized it, as I had never been in the kitchen at this time of night before.
I was so surprised that I let out a sound and then quickly closed my mouth. The person who had been standing with their back to me turned around slowly in response to the sound I made.
The kitchen being lit wasn’t a relief. The reason it had been dimly lit wasn’t because it was always like that but because someone else was there.
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