Chapter 25: Campsis Flowers and the “Extra Credit” Session

“What about my arm?”

“I’m not going to eat it. Just stretch it out over here.”

Song Yun Jae scanned me with a look of pure suspicion. He hesitated for a moment before stretching his right arm toward my desk, still clutching his cardigan sleeve tightly. I had planned to lean down and use it as a pillow immediately, but the sight of his hand gripping that sleeve pricked my conscience.

“Hey, there’s a limit to how much of a bastard you can take me for.”

“What did I do?”

“You’re holding onto it because you think I’m going to roll your sleeve up.”

“…It’s your own karma, I guess,” he muttered, turning his head away. I watched his profile as he went back to reading the page he’d been holding down. Despite the attitude, his right arm remained stretched out on my desk. I let out a dry, incredulous laugh. His face might look innocent, but his temperament was definitely pricklier than mine. I should have snapped back, but seeing him still wiggling his toes even though both his slides had fallen to the floor made me lose the will to fight. I just leaned down on the desk as I’d originally intended.

I turned my head so that my nose was right near his wrist. I’d moved in because I figured his cardigan was the most effective air freshener in this sweat-soaked classroom, but the positioning was weirder than I’d anticipated. Song Yun Jae’s arm awkwardly extended, and me, lying there with my face pressed right up against it. Ah, f*ck, this isn’t it.

I liked the scent drifting pleasantly to the tip of my nose, but the optics were all wrong. Just as I was about to lift my head and give up—

Song Yun Jae’s right hand moved. His fingers wrapped around the back of my neck, feeling slightly chilled, and I felt the dry touch of his thumb against the edge of my jaw. He pressed down. It wasn’t a forceful push, but my head was pinned helplessly back to the desk. He let out a small, airy laugh, seemingly amused by the thud my head made against the wood.

“Getting a kick out of cracking my skull open, are we?”

“Wasn’t this what you wanted?”

“I was just trying to plug my nostrils with your cardigan.”

He nodded as if that explanation made perfect sense. “I have a handkerchief, hold on.”

Song Yun Jae closed his book and started rummaging through his pocket. His right hand stayed firmly in place on my neck. I watched him struggle to dig through his right pocket with his left hand, and the awkwardness of it felt like something stuck in my throat. Finally, he pulled out a neatly folded white handkerchief and draped it over my face. My vision went dark.

“It’s one of my favorites. Don’t blow your nose on it.”

“…….”

“And if you’re going to sleep, don’t drool.”

Even after giving me the handkerchief, he didn’t withdraw his arm. The cardigan sleeve remained pressed against my cheek. I couldn’t see anything anymore, so I squeezed my eyes shut even tighter.

With one deep breath, his scent filled my lungs entirely. It made my head spin.

The closing ceremony for the semester was a quiet affair. Since there weren’t many classes per grade, I’d expected us to gather in the playground or the gym, but I was wrong. It ended with a short broadcast honoring the seniors who were one step closer to the CSAT season, and the sophomores who were one step closer to being seniors.

After a rowdy session of deep-cleaning the classroom, the teachers left first, telling us to enjoy the weekend but to be back on Monday for supplementary classes. Only the remaining kids were making a racket, shouting about plans for soccer, basketball, and gaming.

Even with supplementary classes, break was still break. The sense of freedom that the word “vacation” carried was evident in the brightening faces of the students. The only ones whose expressions remained unchanged were Song Yun Jae and me. As break approached, the uncomfortable things that came with it loomed larger in our minds.

It was a lukewarm feeling—nothing to look forward to, nothing to get excited about. If anything, it felt more suffocating. And I knew it was the same for him.

That’s why his suggestion didn’t feel out of the blue. While folding the vacation guide and the water safety pamphlet our teacher had handed out, Song Yun Jae spoke up as casually as if he were asking what the next period was.

“Should we do a supplementary session together?”

“We already are.”

“No, I mean after school.”

“You want to do more?”

Instead of answering, Song Yun Jae stared at me. The noisy kids were trickling out of the classroom. Because his tone was so natural—as if he were discussing something trivial—I didn’t catch his meaning right away. Seizing the moment of my silence, he continued.

“We could stay at school, go to a cafe, or a study hall.”

“…….”

“Or, I mean, if you don’t want to solve problems, we can just hang out.”

“Look at this delinquent.”

“Did I say we should ditch?”

“You have before.”

“…It’s vacation,” he trailed off. It was amusing to see him start so boldly only to lose his confidence at the very end. I gave a light snort. I suppose it was a relief that he wasn’t the type to be obnoxious even when he was being uncharacteristically shy.

Lately, Song Yun Jae had been showing this lack of confidence more often. Just as his playfulness had increased, so had these brief moments of timidity that he usually never showed. Witnessing those moments—him allowing me to see them—felt like it put me in the category of the “real friends” he always talked about. Was that a good thing for me, too?

I looked at his pouting lips, then shifted my gaze up to see his long eyelashes cast a shadow. Stealing a side-glance at his profile as he kept his eyes down, I hoisted my bag onto the desk.

“What are you doing? Let’s go.”

His eyes went round as he looked at me for a moment, and then I saw the corners of his mouth turn up as he packed his bag. I had a vague thought that filling July this way might not be so bad.

Contrary to how he’d smiled while packing, Song Yun Jae seemed to have a lot on his mind once we got moving. He appeared unsure of where we should go.

“We can just go to that cafe we went to before,” I said.

He shot me a look—not a hateful one, but one that clearly meant “shut up.” I knew his “supplementary session” wasn’t about a cafe tour. I didn’t care if we went to the old cafe, a new one, a comic book room, or a study hall. My only concern was the fact that the back of his neck, tucked under his cardigan, was damp with sweat. Since his hair was already sticking to his skin, the heat he was feeling had to be worse than mine.

It was the time of day when the sun was at its most merciless.

We left the school and walked for a while with the riverbank to our left until we reached the main road with the pharmacy where I’d bought his ointment. Following that road past a small elementary school and turning left into a narrow alley would lead to the cafe we’d visited before. But he hesitated several times before the alleyway. Eventually, he took the lead again, and I followed without a word. Following him around, I’d realized he had a habit of avoiding the main roads in favor of alleys.

“Why go this way when the main road is right there?”

He didn’t answer easily. I walked behind him, watching his hair flutter in the gentle breeze, and felt a bit awkward noticing the paleness of his scalp through his hair now that it was July. I spoke up again.

“Is there someone you’re trying to avoid?”

I didn’t mean anything deep by it. I didn’t say it with the intention of making him stop in his tracks, turn around, and elbow me in the solar plexus.

He pulled his elbow back. Fortunately, his expression didn’t crumble as we stood face-to-face. I wasn’t sure if he’d pulled his punch or if that was just the extent of his strength, but while it didn’t hurt, I’d had to brace my core reflexively when his arm came at me. As I relaxed, my breath hitched. Before I could say a word, he answered.

“Stop talking nonsense and just look at the flowers on the walls.”

Only then did I notice the lush green vines climbing over the walls like ivy, dotted with bright orange flowers.

“You came this way just to look at flowers?”

“Yeah.”

“…Huh?”

“They’re Campsis flowers. They say they bloom in June in other neighborhoods, but they seem to start in July here in Sodong. They’ll be even prettier next month. This is my favorite alley.”

Whether the seeds had just spread or everyone had made a pact to plant them, the Campsis flowers in this alley were blooming even over the tops of the walls.

His quiet, steady voice tickled my ears once again. It was a scene I had never bothered to look at. I’d never walked this alley for fun, and I’d never even seen this flower before moving to Sodong. Song Yun Jae’s eyes had softened completely as he spoke about loving this place. My gaze, which had been following the flowers along the wall, settled on his eyes and his profile.

“If we go just a bit further, there’s a smaller cafe than the one we went to last time. Let’s have tteokbokki and shaved ice there.”

“An old lady runs it, and it’s pretty good,” he said, starting to walk again. I stood there for a moment until his round head grew a bit distant and he stopped to look back at me.

“Is it too hot?”

“…No.”

“Let’s go. Shaved ice is on me. You buy the tteokbokki.”

The image of his eyes taking in the sparse, not-yet-fully-bloomed flowers lingered in my mind. Lately, his eyes didn’t just curve into crescents; they curved beautifully and softened, mirroring his heart. Thump. My heart echoed down to my toes. As I moved to catch up with him, that pounding pulse drove my every step.

It stayed that way even while we ate the tteokbokki and shaved ice he’d promised were good.