Someone Like You Wouldn't Like Half Half Island (9)

“Son, come sit here.”

Probably about nine out of ten. No, maybe ninety-nine out of a hundred. Most kids get tense when their parents ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠suddenly call them to the dinner table for a talk out of the blue, with no prior hints. Especially if the parents' voice sounds unusually serious. People aren't perfect, after all—no matter how diligent a child is, they might give in to temptation for a brief slip-up, or unintentionally wrong their parents without realizing it. Even if the parent-child relationship has softened compared to before, kids always have to brace themselves in the face of that adult-child dynamic, or even the superior-inferior one, when responding to a parental summons.

“Uh, Mom…? It's not whatever you're thinking…”

“Sit down first. Let's talk sitting together. I didn't get to see your face much yesterday, so I need to make up for it today.”

“Ugh…”

And here was cherry boy Do Ha-min, fidgeting and trembling under his mother's buster call.

Unable to resist his mother's demand, Ha-min reluctantly dragged a chair over and sat at the table.

“Why are you hanging your head like you did something wrong? ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Straighten your back and look at Mom.”

“...Yes.”

Ha-min squeezed his eyes shut once, then slowly opened them to meet his mother's gaze. It was the first time the eyes he saw every day felt this uncomfortable. Until just recently, he'd been one of those ninety-nine-out-of-a-hundred sons who could face a parental talk with a clear conscience. Not to brag, but even reflecting on it himself, he'd never once deceived his parents just for his own sake—a model student through and through. Sure, falling short of his first-choice high school due to an unlucky mistake was regrettable, but he'd never hidden disappointment in his abilities with lies.

Yeah, that is, until he lied to Mom about skipping cram school, spent that time tutoring a female classmate at her house, stayed overnight, and to top it off, a lime-scented condom came tumbling out of his pocket.

“Do Ha-min.”

“Eek… Yes.”

Ha-min's mother rested her elbows on the table, clasped her hands over her mouth, and spoke toward him.

“Tell me more about this girlfriend you're dating! Is it that girl you went to the movies with last time? Oh my goodness, that was almost a month ago already! As expected of my son—making a girlfriend right away in high school where he had no friends!”

“N-No, she's not my girlfriend. It's not like that at all!”

“You're not denying it was the girl you went to the movies with, so that part's true, right?”

“Ah, that's…!”

Ha-min fell right into his mother's leading questions.

“Oh, so the one whose glasses you broke and got new ones for—that was her too?”

“Ah… Yes. Actually, they were already broken from hitting a soccer ball before that… She didn't break them.”

“Mm-hmm, I think I get it. I know what happened.”

Even without hearing the full story, Ha-min's mother nodded as if she understood everything that followed. Ha-min tilted his head in slight confusion. He'd fudged the broken glasses story to avoid worrying Mom—said Ban Do-young had accidentally dropped them and paid for the replacement. It was Ha-min's own little white lie to prevent weird misunderstandings about Do-young, spare Mom worry over a school mishap, and keep Do-young from looking like a bad kid.

Ah, thinking about it now, he'd already been deceiving Mom from that point. As Do-young loved to tease, Ha-min's “model student” label had vanished right then.

“Um… What do you think you know…?”

“That girl. She knew your glasses were broken and broke them on purpose, right?”

“Hic.”

“No, I didn't mean it in a bad way. Quite the opposite—it's a good thing. I mean, she broke them on purpose so you'd get new glasses.”

Hit right on the mark, Ha-min's Adam's apple bobbed with a faint gulp. Somehow, even the sound escaping his throat felt like it was starting to resemble Do-young's.

“H-How did you know that?”

“It's obvious. When a girl sees a boy she likes walking around with taped-up broken glasses, her maternal instincts kick in somewhere deep down. I want to buy that kid new glasses, even if I have to break these ones myself… That's how it goes. For a proper lady like me.”

“Pr-Proper lady…”

“What's with those eyes? You saying Mom's not a proper lady?”

“N-No… Mom's the best.”

Ha-min turned his head away and affirmed her with effort. Somewhere, a familiar feeling tugged—like he'd had this kind of talk with a woman other than Mom.

“That girl seems nicer than I thought. As expected of my son. You've got an eye for girls.”

“N-Normally, when a son comes home with a broken nose and glasses, parents don't say stuff like that.”

Usually, hearing a kid got hurt at school meant charging into the office, demanding how it happened, and scoffing “By car?” at rude replies. But Ha-min's mom didn't fret over her son's minor injuries or school life.

“Normally, they'd worry. I do too. Just hope you don't come home more hurt than this. But our son used to have that gloomy look all the time before high school, and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠now you're smiling a lot more.”

“Huh…? Have I been smiling that much?”

“Of course! Compared to when you apologized for flunking Seongcheon Science High and threw out all your comics and novels—now you're blooming with smiles.”

“Ahaha… I must've looked awful back then… Especially since I'm already ugly.”

“Hey now, who's calling you ugly? Bring 'em here—Mom'll smash 'em! For my handsome boy!”

“...”

The one I watched movies with, got glasses with, studied for exams with, and even kissed—that was her. Midway through praising Do-young, he couldn't say it. Ha-min swallowed his words quietly.

“Anyway, even with those little badges of honor popping up on your body, you're enjoying school your own way… Makes Mom feel even more at ease.”

“...”

“School and friends… You're having fun there, right?”

“Yeah, it's fun.”

Even if other things were hard to talk about, he could answer that question for sure. Only after Mom asked did he realize it himself. The high school life he'd imagined as three years of solitary endurance had become far more enjoyable than he'd ever thought.

What was a year? Even a few months ago, he never dreamed he'd rack up so many experiences in that short time—not just getting swept up in events, but making his own choices within them.

“Yeah! As long as you're enjoying school, Mom's okay with it! Keep fighting, my boy!”

“Thanks, Mom. Really.”

“Of course, it'd be even better if your youth activities were thriving too! So, so? Dating… no, you said you're in that ambiguous phase? What's her name? Tell me! Got a photo or something?”

“...No way. I totally oppose it.”

“Oppose…? You said that last time too—definitely a Ban, huh!”

“Hic.”

“Favorite food? How'd you get close? My soooon~!”

“I d-don't know! I don't know anything!”

-Slam!

Ha-min gave up facing his mom any longer and fled to his room, slamming the door. If the talk went on, not just Do-young's name, but her favorite drink being Zero Lime Cola, how they bonded over Magical Girl Marina★Harina, and that the only photo he had was an elementary school pic she'd sent—everything would spill to Mom.

Every bit would spark weird misunderstandings, inevitably leading to suspicions of a romantic tie. How did we drag this bizarre connection all the way to lover status?

“Haa…”

He locked the door to keep Mom out, sighed, and flopped onto the bed.

-Bzzz

Then Ha-min's phone vibrated. Someone had messaged him.

“...Ban Do-young.”

As expected, it was a message from Do-young. He'd half-guessed it. At this timing, only she would reach out.

“...”

Was it really a mistake? Or an ongoing April Fool's lie disguised as one? Hard to tell her intent right now. He wasn't seeing her face or hearing her voice.

“...”

Ha-min turned to glance at the condom box on his desk. If it wasn't just teasing—if it was a real mistake. If Do-young truly wanted to apologize to him.

Maybe now he could control her actions.

Do-young, startled by Ha-min's unexpected response. Up to here, it was as he'd predicted.

But Ha-min's counterattack was just beginning.

Yeah, if the day ever came to show Mom Do-young's photo, he couldn't exactly pull out an elementary school one. A current face pic would convince her. She's just a normal friend—nothing more. The condom was her mistake. Nothing happened between us. Painful truth aside, the gap in their looks had the power to sell that excuse.

That's what he thought, demanding a current selfie from Do-young right away. To give her no time for clever dodges.

-Bzzz

Less than ten seconds later, Ha-min's phone buzzed again. A photo-sent notice—from Do-young.

“Good, she didn't have time to do anything weird in between… Whoa!”

Startled by Do-young's photo on the screen, Ha-min dropped his phone from the bed.