Chapter 8
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: Contacts
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Over the weekend, Siwoo had tossed and turned in bed thousands of times, agonizing over how to face Hyunsu and Iseol, but come Monday morning, things started off so peacefully it made all that worry seem pointless.
As usual, Siwoo arrived at school early and sat at his desk, staring blankly out the window.
Drag—
Once the classroom had filled up with students, and Siwoo was glancing curiously at Juwon's still-empty seat, the hallway grew noisy. Then the door burst open with a bang.
"Hey, Nam-zjin! Have a good weekend?"
It was none other than Hyunsu greeting Siwoo.
He slung an arm over Siwoo's shoulder where he sat and flashed a brazen grin.
It was a loud, hearty voice, clearly calculated so that Juwon and Geon, who had just followed him in, could hear it perfectly.
"Sorry about Saturday. I was on edge 'cause of exams, so I said some harsh stuff. No hard feelings, right? You know how it is, bro?"
Less an apology and more a way to show off to the others that he was above Siwoo.
A wave of heavy cologne hit Siwoo, making it hard to breathe, but he inwardly sighed with relief that it wasn't outright provocation and nodded.
"Nah, it's fine. I'm good."
Just as the awkward situation seemed to wrap up forcibly, Juwon, who was setting down his bag, clapped his hands.
"Oh, right. Hey, Nam-zjin. Gimme your number."
"Huh? My number?"
"He wanted to apologize over the weekend, but we realized nobody in the group has your contact."
At Juwon's words, Dasom and Chaerin nearby pulled out their phones too.
"Yeah, I don't have it either."
"Me neither! Let's grab Nam-zjin's number!"
As all their eyes turned to him at once, Siwoo fumbled in his pocket for his battered old smartphone, flustered but quick.
It felt like massive asteroids crashing into his tiny, shabby world—his contacts limited to just his family and three middle school friends.
"Here, my number..."
Siwoo mumbled his number in a small voice, and starting with Juwon, the friends saved it.
Hyunsu, with a strange look on his face, punched it into his phone too.
The whole thing felt so surreal to Siwoo that he was dazed.
He never could have imagined this before enrolling here.
His number, saved in the phones of the popular crowd.
As he stared at them blankly, his phone buzzed.
"That's mine. Save it."
Starting with Juwon, their numbers flooded into his narrow world, each tagged with a name.
Then, amid the lively chatter, someone thrust a phone toward him.
"Put your number in. I didn't catch it."
"Uh? Oh, sure. Hang on."
A sleek black phone with a clear case.
Siwoo's fingers trembled faintly as he carefully took Iseol's phone.
The warmth from her hand seemed to linger on his palm, heating his earlobes.
He tapped in his number carefully, and Iseol immediately called it from her phone.
An unknown number popped up on Siwoo's screen.
"That's mine. Text me if you have questions while studying."
Before Siwoo could reply, the bell rang, and the friends—minus Juwon—rushed out noisily.
In the wake of the storm, the warmth from her phone still seemed to cling to Siwoo's palm.
After that day, Siwoo's phone buzzed nonstop.
The group chat messages were full of pointless, playful banter, but every notification brought a strange sense of belonging.
Of course, Siwoo couldn't chime in naturally.
He'd see Dasom post a bread pic, type out "lol that looks so good" in the chat, delete it dozens of times, then give up when they'd moved on, setting his phone down dejectedly.
But just quietly reading their chatter wasn't bad.
With the group chat keeping boredom at bay, time flew mercilessly until the eve of the big midterm.
"Ugh~ Tomorrow's the test? Whatever."
"What're you on about, you slacker who never studies."
After school, Siwoo smiled faintly as he trailed behind Geon and Juwon playfully bickering in the hall.
"Everyone, good luck guessing on the test tomorrow!"
At the school gate, Geon waved grandly and dashed to the bus stop. The rowdy group dispersed with goodbyes.
Siwoo waved back and turned to leave when someone yanked his bag strap.
"Hey, Nam-zjin."
It was Hyunsu. He looked like he was smiling, but his eyes weren't—that signature sleazy expression.
"Snap pics of your Korean notes and send 'em. I'm in a real pinch this time."
"Huh? Oh... got it. When I get home..."
"Cool. I trust ya. Don't be late, or you're dead?"
Hyunsu slapped Siwoo's shoulder unpleasantly and sauntered off whistling.
Only when Hyunsu's back was fully out of sight did Siwoo let out the heavy sigh he'd been holding.
Haa... He's such an exhausting pain.
In the end, to him, Siwoo was just a handy errand boy for snacks and notes.
His fragile pride chipped away again by Hyunsu's subtle bullying, Siwoo trudged homeward, eyes on the ground.
A sudden cool hand landed on his shoulder from behind as he walked alone into the sunset.
"Hey."
"Gah!"
Siwoo jumped and spun around.
It was Baek Iseol, with one earbud in.
He'd thought she'd left first, but she'd apparently lingered much longer.
"Why so jumpy? Like you've got something to hide."
"W-why are you still here...?"
"Eat this."
Instead of answering, Iseol pulled something from her pocket and tossed it at him.
Siwoo caught it reflexively. A strawberry milk carton sat in his palm.
"Huh?"
"Thanks for helping during exam prep. And good luck tomorrow."
As she'd said, over the past few days, she'd texted him privately with questions.
Each time, Siwoo had rubbed sleepy eyes and scribbled solutions on scrap paper for photos.
With that, she brushed past the stunned Siwoo and strode ahead.
"W-wait! Walk together!"
Clutching the strawberry milk so he wouldn't drop it, Siwoo hurried to her side and matched her pace carefully.
They walked the alley for a while like that.
Even as their shadows stretched long in the sunset glow, no words passed between them.
"..."
An awkward silence settled heavily in the air.
Siwoo stole glances at her profile.
He'd thought they'd gotten a bit closer, but Iseol was still glued to her phone, ignoring him.
Shouldn't have followed... Now I'm just annoying her.
Shrunk from Hyunsu's hassle, Siwoo started slowing his steps subtly.
"Hey."
"Huh?"
Iseol, walking beside him, called out without looking up from her phone.
"That math solution you sent last time—does it apply here too?"
She stopped abruptly and shoved her phone screen in his face.
It was filled with the messy handwritten explanation he'd painstakingly sent at dawn.
"Y-yeah. That should cover the type."
"Hmm... Thanks. Got it."
Iseol nodded and went back to her phone, muttering to herself.
Siwoo gazed at her sidelong, dazed.
She wasn't ignoring him or zoning out.
Even while walking, she was intently studying the materials he'd sent with such care.
Suddenly, Siwoo grew curious about her.
"...Why do you study so hard?"
A nosy question he'd never dare ask normally.
Maybe from their recent chats, or this sentimental sunset.
It slipped out reflexively.
Iseol paused at the sudden question, then stared into space and answered flatly.
"Nothing grand or special. I slacked off all middle school. Gotta start sometime. Don't know what I'll do later, but I hate being treated like an idiot."
A curt but solidly sincere reply.
Siwoo nodded and they walked in silence until they reached the entrance to Iseol's apartment complex.
"I'm heading in here. Go careful."
As she waved casually and turned toward the complex, Siwoo forced his mouth open.
"Uh... Good luck on the test tomorrow!"
His voice echoed into the air. Iseol stopped and glanced back slightly.
She stared briefly at Siwoo with his small fisted hand, then murmured softly.
"...You too. Do well."
With those short words, she vanished completely into the complex lined with cherry trees.
Siwoo stood there long after, until the strawberry milk in his hand warmed to his body temperature and her silhouette faded from view.