1st in class hides regression

“Sorry, students. My hand slipped and I didn’t realize…” “What, that’s hilarious. Why are you half talking?” “My words. I’m just saying, do you know us?” “You’re selling tteokbokki at the market and you look like an adult. Are you being arrogant?” “…I’m sorry, students.” “It’s not “sorry”, it’s “sorry”.” 

Song Yeo-reum’s words, which sounded like she was trying to teach a small child, didn’t go unanswered.

 

Song and the others giggled once more as they watched her mop up the spilled soup on the floor as if she hadn’t heard.

 “Hey, take a picture, take a picture.” 

They point their cell phone camera at her.

 

It was for my mom’s best to pretend I didn’t hear them, even though they were less than half my age and this was an insult.

 “Oh, so why do you give me wipes?” “Aren’t you supposed to wipe my shoes?” 

No, but humanely.

 

Isn’t it out of line to touch my parents?

 “…Student, I’ve been trying to hold it together, but… you just stuck your leg out in front of me, and I dodged, and you stuck your leg out, and I got hit in the shin by your foot, and… that’s why I fell.” “Wow, she held it together. You’d think the mayor’s wife was looking out for us.” “Who said you put up with it? Don’t put up with it.” “Hey, Song Yeo-reum.” 

I interrupted.

 “Did you step on my mom’s foot?” 

I ask, trying to keep my voice as calm as possible. She laughed at me.

 “What?” “…….” “What of it? Are you going to call the police?” “…….” “You can’t. It’s not like this shitty store has CCTV.” “Go ahead, call them,”

Song said, smiling.

 “…….” 

If I were 29 years old, I would have called the police.

 

I would have reported them for property damage and obstruction of business, summoned their parents, who were responsible for their supervision, demanded compensation for the broken dishes and other damages, and yelled at them to raise their children properly.

 

I’d let them know what it’s like to have their parents humiliated by their own behavior.

 

They think being taken to the police station is a badge of honor, and they’re not afraid of their parents?

 

I’m like,

“You’ll see.”

 

I found that there were surprisingly few kids who were comfortable with the idea of being a criminal, even at the neighborhood bully level.

 

It’s usually the ones who hide behind their parents, who can’t even say their own name straight?

 

I’m sure I would have done that.

 

If I was 29 years old.

 

But I’m 18.

 

I’d pick up my phone to call the cops, and my mom would be like,

“Why would you call the cops for something like this?”

and the cops would just ignore me because I was a student.

 

It’s not like I haven’t been through this before, I did it on my SATs.

 

When I came to report the old man in the morning with a puffy face, he told me,

“You’re upset that you failed the test. You need to calm down and go home and rest.”

 

…Wait a minute.

 

He’s ignoring me because I’m a student.

 “How do I put this place tag? I want to put it on our school page.” 

The hooded lackey, still bubbly, but in my eyes, infinitely tacky, giggled. The camera of a white smartphone in a phone case with pink bunny ears pointed straight at me and my mom.

 

I opened the can of Coke that was rolling across the floor and poured it into the expensive phone, which hadn’t even been bought yet.

 “Ack!” 

The startled lackey lost her grip on the phone and jumped to her feet.

 “What the hell!” “Dude, are you crazy?!” “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” 

The distraught lackey fumbles with the case and tries to turn on her phone, but it’s already dead.

 

I guess smartphones from 10 years ago weren’t waterproof.

 

By the way,

 

I can’t believe she only has a few words to express her embarrassing emotional state. Her vocabulary is so small.

 

Does getting too angry make a person calm down?

 

While she was thinking about that, Song Yeo-reum stood up.

 

Her expensive shoes, which she had been showing off earlier, were covered in cola and tteokbokki seasoning from the table.

 

They were definitely not new anymore.

 “Hey, Kang Dahye…” 

Song’s voice quivered as she called my name. Just like me earlier.

 “This is over a million won. Are you confident you can pay for it?” 

I asked Song Yeo-reum, who looked stunned.

 “Why would you ask for that?” “…what?” “Do you have any evidence? Your shoes. Her cell phone. Do you have proof that I broke it? It’s not like we have security cameras here, like you said.” “What…” “I’m not going to ask. You’re the one who should call the police.” 

I held out my cell phone to her, asking if hers had just been broken, and if she could use it to report it. I explained slowly to Song, who didn’t pick it up.

 

Like I was teaching a child.

 “You’re always telling me you’re a dick, but what looks like a dick to you is what looks like sincerity to adults.” 

Even a cop who dismisses a student’s comments is different when there’s a comparison.

 “If you call the police, I’m going to tell them I didn’t do that, but you’re the one who came to my store and started hanging around. You’re the one who came to my mom’s store to help her at this time of day, and you’re the one who’s hanging out with me in your school uniform. Who do you think the police are going to believe?” 

With no evidence, it’s a 100% credibility battle.

 “You should file a report.” 

I laughed.

 

Song Yeo-reum was the first to lose her cool when she saw me raising the corner of my mouth.

 

After that, as expected.

 “Hey, I really don’t want to go to the police station again.”

Another of Song’s lackeys, who had been relatively quiet, interrupted her, and as the shop became noisy, the surrounding merchants rushed in to chase her away.

 

As they stormed out of the store, I said to Song Yeo-reum.

 “Pay up and go. 21,500 won.” 

21,500 won at today’s prices. I ordered a lot to screw my mom.

 “What?” “Be nice and pay for the bowl.” 

Oh, and…

 “If you can’t afford shoes with a little tteokbokki broth on them, they shouldn’t be yours in the first place. You’ve learned your lesson, don’t buy them next time.”  

* * *

  “Kang Dahye, no matter what, you can’t give customers…” “They’re only customers if you give them a discount. They just broke the bowl.” “But still, pouring the coke? If you act like that, you’ll be just like them.” “No, Mom, how can someone who hits you and someone who hits back be the same? Are you the same as General Yi Sun-sin?” “No, they’re not.” “Okay, okay, go inside. Go inside and get some rest.” 

I pushed my mom’s back and forced her into the kitchen.

 

I set the table, mopped the floor. I cleaned up the mess and walked back in to find my mom sitting in front of the fridge, dazed.

 

I walked over with a deliberate gait, and she sat up, wiping her eyes with her palms.

 

Wiping her wet hands on her apron, she asked nonchalantly.

 “Have you eaten?” “You should eat now.” “You eat, Mommy is fine.” “Eh, I’m here to eat with my mom. Do you know any rosé tteokbokkii?” “Rose what?” “Wait. I’ll get it for you.” 

It was quiet after that.

 

My mom was still shaking her head in frustration as I shuffled off to the next supermarket to buy the ingredients, made the tteokbokki, and sat down at the table with the finished product in front of her.

 “…It’s delicious.” “It is.” 

And silence again.

 

I greedily slid the quail eggs onto my mom’s plate and changed the subject.

 “Mom, someday… when I go to a good college and make a lot of money. We can travel abroad.” “Overseas?” “Let’s go. Let’s go far, far away. How about America? Have you ever been to America, mom?” “Of course I’ve been. Come on, eat.” “Let’s take a business trip. I’ll make a lot of money, and I’ll give you a trip.” 

I bluff, saying I’ll do this, and I’ll do that because I’m rich, and she laughs.

 “I’m serious, I’ll treat you.” “I’m supposed to pamper you. You just take care of yourself and get on with your life.” “…….” “I’m sorry I can’t do what everyone else does.” 

A tear rolled down the back of her chopsticks.

 “My daughter, you are so smart, you have so many dreams, so many things you want to do. If you were born in a different family, you would be much happier than you are now.” 

What’s with all this melancholy…

 “…You’re right, I have a lot of things I want to do.” 

I want to fly on an airplane.

 

I want to eat fish and chips at the blue sign on Sydney Beach, where Seo Jae-gyeom went on his winter vacation.

 

I want to place a very tricky, complicated order in a Manhattan Cafe where customers and staff speak fast.

 

Being successful on my own is also on my list of things I want to do that year.

 “I’m smart, like you said, and I can do it without your help.” 

In my second life, I’m going to try everything and not give up. What I wanted to do.

 “So, cheer me up when I’m feeling sorry for myself. Cheer me up.” “…Okay.” “Mom, isn’t this really good? Should we make it a new menu item? Rosé Tteokbokki.” “No, it’s not that good.” “Hmph.”  

* * *

  

The next day.

 “Oh, I didn’t get the money for the house in question.” 

I wasn’t in the mood to ask for money, but yesterday…

 

Let’s see. First,

 “Ask Ji-soo if it’s okay for the three of us to eat with Do-yeon…” 

Ji-soo is a nice girl, so of course she’ll say yes, but I have to ask her.

 

With that thought in mind, I crossed the crosswalk. As soon as I turned onto the hill toward the school gate, I saw a familiar figure behind me.

 “Uh, Jisoo.” 

I raised my hand in greeting but stopped short.

 

Seo Jae-gyeom was walking with Jisoo.

 

He was casually carrying Jisoo’s large bag. Their eyes met, and he raised the corner of his mouth to say something.

 

Jisoo burst out laughing.