Superstar
“I’m heading out.”
Monday morning. Was this proof that our roller-coaster father-daughter relationship had finally settled down for the time being? Harin left the house after tossing out her usual goodbye.
In that case, it was about time I got ready for “school” myself. Of course, I had no intention of changing into the uniform right that second and chasing after her.
I immediately powered on my laptop and accessed the Cheonji High School homepage. The moment it hit nine o’clock, both sides’ campaign pledges went up on the bulletin board as if they had been waiting for the clock to strike.
I opened two windows side by side and compared their pledges. Sure enough… there were a few detailed differences, but overall they were practically identical.
The real distinction lay in their main pledges. Thuy’s side led with Casual Clothes Day, while Eunju’s side led with Abolishing Graduation Gifts.
Everything else matched as perfectly as if one set had been held up to a mirror.
This was a complete disaster. Just as I’d suspected, Harin had taken my pledge booklet straight over to Thuy’s camp.
The trump card I’d wrung out of myself to avoid pledge plagiarism had instead become a self-inflicted wound that plagiarized the entire campaign!
Whirrr!
After ten o’clock, it seemed the situation was finally registering inside the school as well. First came a text from Eunju.
“…”
What was I supposed to reply? The water had already been spilled, and not a single countermeasure came to mind.
While I sat there unable to fire off a hasty answer, a text arrived from a completely different direction.
“…?”
Who was this? The word “period” made it clear the sender was a student, but the only students who could contact me were Harin or Eunju, right?
No. This was Hyeonji. Yesterday, while drunk, this kid had suggested we go for hangover food together.
I’d written it off as drunken rambling, but she’d been serious? The message wasn’t even worth answering, so I called Eunju first.
“Hello? Senior, right now…”
“I already know. It’s about the pledges, right?”
“What happened? You clearly rewrote everything so we wouldn’t get hit with plagiarism, didn’t you? So why is the other side coming out with the exact same pledges?”
That would be because Harin took my pledges. But the second I revealed that fact, the connection between Harin and me would be laid bare for everyone to see.
The result: I’d be buried alive by society, and Harin would be so ashamed she’d leave home.
“There’s… a bit of a problem on my end too. I’m still trying to figure it out. What are they saying at school?”
“They’re planning to call me and the other side in for a talk during lunch. Of course you’ll have to be there too, Senior.”
I had to be there too? That was a little much.
Spinning a light story among students was one thing, but the second I impersonated someone in front of teachers who had full access to student records, it was straight to the handcuffs.
“Uh, Eunju, can I sit this one out? I’ll figure out some kind of plan, so…”
“What are you talking about? You’re the one who made these pledges. How are we supposed to handle this if you don’t come as a witness?”
“Haah… The truth is I caused a pretty big incident and I’ve been dodging the teachers. So even if you go, do not mention my name under any circumstances. Just say some senior you know helped out, okay?”
“Senior, that doesn’t even make sense…”
“I’ll handle it somehow, so just go with that for now! Anyway, I’ve got to run—bye!”
“Se-Senior?!”
Click!
I’d put out the immediate fire. Of course I hadn’t actually put it out—I’d just covered my eyes and told myself there was no fire at all.
But right now I had no other choice. If it was promise-keeping Eunju, she’d follow my instructions for the time being.
After that I could think about how to actually fix this mess.
Going it alone was impossible, though. Eunju would brief me on the school situation, but I needed more information. In that case…
Teacher Eunju. Two students from her own homeroom class were already tangled up in the incident, so by now she was probably out in the back courtyard sighing so hard the ground was about to cave in.
I checked the timetable on the school homepage again and confirmed there was no Korean class fourth period. I changed into the uniform at the right time and went looking for Teacher Eunju.
Shashashak…
I arrived at school right as third period ended. Now all I had to do was head to the back courtyard, find Teacher Eunju, hear the situation, and plan the next move.
But saying it was easy—was this even solvable? The best method would be to pull another all-nighter, draft a brand-new set of pledges, and hand them to Eunju.
Ex. Cept. That was pure nonsense. If both sides revised their pledges it might be different, but if only one side changed them it would be the same as confessing they were the thieves.
On top of that, I’d already drained every usable idea dry; no fresh pledges were going to appear. In other words, Eunju’s side was now overwhelmingly disadvantaged.
That meant defeat in the election was inevitable. Eunju, who had even switched running mates to re-enter the race, would become the laughingstock of the entire school and never want to see my face again.
Ugh…
That was when it happened. A familiar sigh—louder and heavier than usual—echoed straight into my chest. All right, time to meet Teacher Eunju and get the latest—
“What are you doing? Stop spacing out and follow me.”
“…?”
But thirty meters before I reached Teacher Eunju, I ran smack into Hyeonji of all people. Huh? Come to think of it, she’d texted about ditching after third period, hadn’t she?
Her natural look—school uniform layered over green gym clothes. Hangover still clinging to her, she cracked her neck and walked right up to me.
“Hye-Hyeonji? I’m a little busy right now—”
“I told you not to call me that.”
“Haah… Miss Kim Hyeonji, third-year at Cheonji High School? I’ve got something urgent, so can we do the hangover cure later?”
“Are you crazy? Who said I was drinking with you again? We made a promise, so follow me.”
“A promise? You just unilaterally declared it. I never agreed to any—”
“Hey, Kim Hyeonji! Don’t you move!”
An interrupter appeared and cut the conversation short. I turned my head and saw a teacher in a tracksuit sprinting toward us at full speed.
Cheolgu. He wasn’t even Hyeonji’s homeroom teacher, yet he seemed to have her on permanent watch. Hyeonji scowled and spoke to me.
“You got us spotted. Hurry up and follow me.”
“Whoa, whoa… Sorry, but the one currently ditching class is you, not me. If you don’t want to get caught here, just leave me and—”
“Hey! Both of you, freeze!”
“…?!”
But Cheolgu had already decided we were co-conspirators. At this rate, the only way to keep my identity hidden was to run with Hyeonji, wasn’t it?
Huff… huff…
In the end, less than five minutes after arriving at school, I had to climb over the wall. Cheolgu apparently decided the other side of the wall was outside his jurisdiction and didn’t follow.
“Hey! Because of you I got chased out too! I had something really important to do!”
“If it was so important, why’d you only show up at school now?”
“That? That’s because I went to the hospital this morning—”
“I’ll shut that mouth of yours… Follow me.”
“…”
No excuse worked. And since I didn’t think I could shake Hyeonji off either, I had no choice but to go along with her demands for now.
Harin and Eunju would be stuck explaining themselves to the teachers all through lunch anyway. Their homeroom teacher, Teacher Eunju, would almost certainly be there too.
I could just call her out afterward and get the full story then. While I was thinking that, Hyeonji’s footsteps stopped in front of a café in the shopping district called Difo.
“Why’d you come here?”
“I said hangover cure, didn’t I?”
“What the… this is a café. How exactly are you planning to cure a hangover here?”
“Chocolate cream puff…”
Hyeonji answered in a voice that, for her, was strangely lacking in confidence. But that didn’t make any sense.
“Uh… I get that hangover cures differ from person to person, but this is way outside the average, isn’t it? Do you seriously eat this for hangover food?”
“I’ve never… done a hangover cure.”
“…”
Well, a kid who only ever sipped canned beer wouldn’t have much experience with hangover cures. I’d forgotten that yesterday’s unexpected irregularity aside, she was still far too young to be suffering real hangovers.
“Do you even have a hangover?”
“Stomach’s a little off. Kinda queasy.”
“Follow me.”
Over thirty years old and now I had to teach a teenage girl how to cure a hangover. With no other option, I took her to a hangover-soup place at the far end of the shopping district.
Hyeonji sat down awkwardly and looked around. From the slight wrinkle of her nose, the smell of blood sausage was already putting her off.
“So what do you want?”
“Is the ‘innards’ actually… innards? How do people eat this?”
“Well, yeah, but they clean them thoroughly before serving…”
“What’s blood curd?”
“Cow’s blood.”
“Are you crazy? You’re telling me to eat cow blood?”
Hyeonji raised her voice, clearly rattled by the cultural shock of her nineteen years of life. Hold on—this was the same girl who walked around like a battle-hardened delinquent who’d seen it all, and she was losing it over something this mild?
“So you’ve never tried innards soup or blood curd?”
“Never had a reason to.”
“Haah… At least you’ve had sundae, right?”
“When I eat tteokbokki.”
“…”
I wasn’t the only one experiencing culture shock. Then again, even if she was a little rough around the edges, a teenage girl’s palate was still a teenage girl’s palate.
In the end I ordered blood-curd soup for myself and plain sundae soup with zero innards for Hyeonji. While we waited for the food there was nothing else to do, so I decided to gather some information.
“Anyway, I heard the school’s going completely crazy over the election. You hear anything?”
“Nope.”
“You were at school all morning—how do you not know?”
“I slept.”
“You didn’t sleep through all three hours, did you? Do you happen to be close with third-years Mok Jihye or Oh Yuna?”
“You know Jihye?”
She didn’t react to Yuna’s name, but she immediately asked about Jihye. Well, after three years at the same school she must have shared a class with at least one of them.
“She’s a student council president candidate—how wouldn’t you know? I heard she was originally going to run with Eunju.”
“Park Eunju stabbed her in the back. She’s always been that kind of girl, so I’m not even surprised.”
“Always been… that kind of girl? I’ve been curious for a while—how do you even know Eunju? A kid who sleeps through the first three hours of school somehow knowing the personality of a underclassman who isn’t even in her grade is a little weird, don’t you think?”
“What’s it to you?”
“…”
If she shut the conversation down like that, I had nothing left to say. Meanwhile the hangover soup and sundae soup arrived.
Sniff sniff…
Hyeonji carefully smelled the soup as if she were inspecting a honey pot discovered in some newly unearthed ancient warehouse. She was showing a lot of new sides today.
And all of them were strangely cute ones that didn’t suit her at all.
“It stinks. Fishy.”
“Dump a ton of black pepper in and it’ll be fine. A little hot broth to coat your stomach and the hangover should ease up too.”
“How do you know all this stuff?”
“Difference in experience, I guess. I’ve been training my stomach since back when you were still toddling around holding your dad’s hand.”
“I’ll shut that mouth of yours…”
Hyeonji looked ready to stab my eyes out with her chopsticks right there. Still, she apparently decided she should at least taste it, so she lifted her spoon and took a sip of broth.
“Khhh…”
“Refreshing?”
“Hot.”
“Well, obviously the temperature is hot—I mean does it feel refreshing inside? That feeling of scraping your stomach walls clean?”
“Kinda. But it still stinks.”
With that she set the spoon down and started picking out only the sundae, dipping it in salt. She was the pickiest eater I’d ever seen.
“You were so drunk last night when you went home—everything okay? Don’t tell me you just passed out there until morning.”
“I woke up in the middle and went to my room.”
“Your house is huge. Your room might even be bigger than my whole place.”
“Where do you live?”
“Me? I live in, uh… one of those townhouse places.”
“Nobel Townhouses?”
“Huh? How do you know that?”
“Kang Harin lives there too.”
“…”
That didn’t make sense. I could accept that a raw delinquent like her and Harin had somehow become “acquaintances” who ran into each other.
That might even lead to casual talk about boyfriends, but telling someone where you live was a completely different level.
“Hey, did you stalk Harin or something?”
“Are you crazy? She told me herself.”
“Sh-she told you herself? That can’t be right. My Harin would never—”
“‘My’ Harin?”
“Ah, nothing. So did you happen to mention me too?”
“No. Not worth talking about.”
“Th-that’s a relief. Could you keep not mentioning it from now on? As you know, my friend’s super shy, so if word got out that I’m running around like this…”
“It’s not your friend—it’s you. I won’t say anything.”
“…”
She still didn’t trust me. But as long as she kept quiet to Harin, that alone was a win.
“Is that good?”
Apparently picking at sundae alone had gotten boring; Hyeonji pointed at the pot full of blood curd in front of me. I scooped up a big spoonful, lightly dipped it in wasabi soy sauce, and held it out to her.
“Try it.”
“No. It’s blood.”
“But it doesn’t taste like the blood you’re thinking of. More like a slightly dry pudding, I guess?”
“…”
Hyeonji tilted her head as if she couldn’t believe it. Still, a spark of challenge must have lit, because she slowly brought her mouth closer.
Gulp…
When those characteristically full lips of hers parted, I swallowed without meaning to. For a second I wanted to become that blood curd just so I could slip between those lips and swim through her entire body—
Shake shake!
What the hell was I thinking? She was a minor—my daughter’s senior, no less.
And beyond that, was it normal to start fantasizing about lips while watching a kid taste blood curd in a hangover-soup joint?
Ptooey!
As if punishing me for the thought, Hyeonji spit the blood curd out the second it hit her tongue. She yanked out a tissue and wiped her mouth with a face that said she was about to throw up.
“Wanna die? That tastes like crap.”
“…”
I never said it tasted good. I just said it was like dry pudding.
After lunch we headed back to school. Hyeonji checked the wall, tilted her head, and asked,
“Why’d we come back to school?”
“Because a student is supposed to be at school at this hour, isn’t that normal?”
“We’re not hanging out?”
“You go hang out. I’ve been saying it since earlier—I’ve got a ton of stuff to do today.”
“Tch…”
Apparently she had no intention of going off to play alone, because she immediately climbed back over the wall. I would’ve preferred the front gate, but after already sneaking in once, walking through the front would only make the security guard suspicious of me too.
I had no choice but to climb over with her. Then, clomp clomp, Hyeonji started walking in the exact opposite direction of the classrooms.
“Hey, that’s not the way to the classrooms.”
“I’m going to the gym.”
“…”
A kid who only attended the classes she felt like attending. I left her to it and turned back toward the classrooms. Now that I’d finally shaken off the Hyeonji tumor, I could get back to my own business—
“A-Team?”
But someone had already spotted me first. And in a very familiar way.
“…?”
I turned my head to check who it was. Mid-forties, maybe? Not exactly baby-faced, yet somehow she looked younger than her age.
And her appearance was anything but ordinary. Judging by her age she was clearly a teacher, yet her clothes completely broke that mold.
A light blue cap worn casually. Hair roughly tied back. A loose round-neck tee with green plaid and white stripes, plus ripped jeans.
At a glance she looked like one of those forever-forty types who, as Chaewon always put it, were desperate to look young. But she had one difference from them: none of it looked forced on her.
I could guarantee she was the hippest “adult” I had ever met.
“Uh… so, about who I am…”
“You don’t have to say it. You took the name tag off because you wanted to, right?”
“…?”
Even the way she spoke was radical. She had instantly identified the missing name tag that Teacher Eunju had failed to notice even after meeting me several times, and labeled me A-Team on the spot.
Who on earth was this person?
“I’m sorry, Teacher. I only transferred recently so I don’t know all the teachers’ names yet. If you don’t mind, your name is…”
“If you’re bored, come find me in the counseling office. Times like now when you feel like ditching, for example.”
“…”
The counseling teacher who never once gave her name left only those words and turned away with a smile. Even though she had clearly seen Hyeonji and me climbing over the wall just moments earlier, she didn’t care in the slightest.
That was our first meeting. And at the time I had no idea.
That meeting her would force me to re-examine every value conflict I had lived with my entire life.
To some she was a messiah of salvation; to others, a cunning ringleader of evil.
The true superstar of Cheonji High who drove both fans and haters completely insane.
“Eunchae, what’s that teacher’s name?”
“Whoa! Oppa, you don’t know Teacher Ma Haejin?”
Ma Haejin… She spotted a missing name tag like a ghost, yet still didn’t notice a single thing about Eunchae.