The Smell of My First Love
The second I heard those three words from Chohee's house—"Yeah, oppa."—I shot up. "Chohee-ya, are you in pain?" I asked even as I grabbed the car keys and stepped out of the room. The instant I climbed in, I started the engine. "You live here?" I didn't care if Chohee was anywhere or with anyone—I just had to meet her right now. Her voice on the phone, crackling through the speaker like a broken gear, was pitiful. "Oppa, don't come." All the worries I'd been wrestling with until just moments ago came flooding back. Should I apologize formally? Or just let it slide like the scumbag I sometimes was? I couldn't think about any of that now. All that mattered was Chohee was sick and I was worried about her. "You're sure it's your place? I'll be there in thirty minutes." Screeech! The screech of my tires as I twisted the wheel too hard echoed through the underground parking lot. "Oppa. I'm fine, so don't come." Her voice came through the speaker from the phone I'd tossed on the passenger seat. I ignored it and asked, "What apartment number?" Bzzzzt! Bzzzzt! Bzzzzt! While Chohee was picking her answer, I must've hammered the horn a dozen times. "What number, Song Chohee!" I'd gotten my driver's license after five pathetic attempts, but speeding had never been in my vocabulary. I almost never changed lanes anyway. In situations like this, I was losing my mind. I weaved through traffic like a circus act but didn't slow down even a single kilometer. "Oppa, why are you coming now?" I turned my head toward the phone without realizing it, and a horn blared beside me. I jerked my gaze back to the road. "You're sick! Tell me the apartment number and the entrance password right now!" "I'm embarrassed, oppa." The light turned yellow. I stomped the gas. "Then I'll come just to check if you're okay—hurry up!" The seatbelt warning chime sounded like it was counting down the final seconds. "I'm fine, turn the car around. Fasten your seatbelt." In the end I exploded. "Hey! I was treating you like some pitiful unmarried mom earlier and I'm really sorry about that. So I thought about how to message you a hundred times and called." Bzzzzt! When I tried to cut in, horns blared nonstop. "Your voice right now is worse than it was when your arm broke last time, you know? But you tell me calmly to fasten my seatbelt? Why have you become so helpless?" Song Chohee, just why did you fall apart like this? How low did your self-esteem sink that you couldn't even ask for help? Why? Back then, just the existence of Song Chohee made the whole world sparkle like fireflies. She was pure and bright like a summer sky. Seeing her now twisted something inside me. My frustration only grew, and I kept talking to try and open her heart. "Remember when I had hemorrhoids from sitting too much in high school? And someone gave me a pack?" It was an embarrassing memory, but facts were facts. "Every time you got hurt, I bled a whole cup's worth, didn't I?" Talking about it, I'd been taking such good care of her. "So this is my way of repaying you—tell me the number already." Luckily the road opened up. "If you keep holding back like this, you're just punishing yourself. From now on I'll only treat you like the real Song Chohee. So you have to treat yourself that way too!" Ugh, it sounded so cheesy yet made my chest ache. But I meant every word. In the end Chohee held up a white flag. "801. Password is 1105." "Got it. I'll be there in ten minutes. I'll buy medicine first thing. Are you sure?" "Yeah. Now put on the seatbelt." "Don't hang up." Only then did I yank the belt across my chest with one hand. * * * Slipping off my slippers, I walked into Chohee's apartment. "Song Chohee! Where's the pain?" It was the typical 1.5-room layout. Chohee lay sprawled on the bed, powerless. I sat down carefully beside her. "Morning sickness? Or fever? I heard pregnant women get fevers in the first trimester." Chohee gave the faintest smile. "You know that? Did you try it?" "I looked it up. You're sweating a lot—are you cold?" Chohee wore a thin cardigan over short running shorts. Sweat beads dotted her pale thighs. "It goes hot, cold, hot." "Why are the shorts so short? Cover up with the blanket." "No. Top's cold, bottom's hot." "Can you even wear something like this?" I forced my eyes away from her slender lower body. "The doctor said the belly usually hurts this early." "How does it hurt? Any medicine?" "Give medicine to someone who can't even drink coffee?" I scolded myself as a man. I'd read online that pregnant women couldn't take medicine unless the pain was unbearable because it would pass to the baby. So they had to endure it raw, which was why husbands were so important. "Sorry. Then how can I make you feel better?" Just then Chohee twisted her body. "Ah! Wait a second, oppa." Chohee curled in on herself. It hurt. Her narrow forehead furrowed. Her plump lower lip was bitten by her teeth. Her hair stuck to her face with sweat, invading every inch of her features. Her chest rose and fell restlessly, teasing my evil imagination every single time. "Hah. Hah. Hah." The first time I ever heard Chohee moan— and the one I wanted to hear the most. How my beloved Chohee's soft voice had become so seductive. My heart twisted. Her pitiful form made my chest ache. I wanted to buy every ounce of my salary just to take her pain away. Yet the way she looked in agony was far too tempting. Was she really in pain or was she just sexy? I stared blankly from the top of her watercolor-like head to her toes. "Hah, hah, hah. Oppa, can I ask you one favor?" I snapped back to my senses. "What? What can I help with?" "Hah, hah. The belly massage machine broke." Chohee slowly turned her head to look at the ceiling. "Can you just rub my belly for ten minutes?" Crazy. Asking with such a shameless face made the sick desire swell even more. No, no. I wasn't going to let this stop me after all I'd done. Right now Chohee was in pain. And the baby inside her must be frustrated too. "Just like when you had a stomachache? Grandma's healing hands?" "Yeah. Use the towel to wipe. I sweated a ton." There was a towel scattered under the bed. Somehow, wiping Chohee's sweat with this cheap rag felt strangely intimate. "Okay. It's just your little brother's sweat, whatever." "Hah, hah. Then loosen the cardigan buttons." I had to set boundaries for myself from now on. This was unavoidable for treatment—only removing the outer layer. "All of them?" "Yeah." The cardigan covering Chohee's curvy upper body had five buttons. She was wearing a t-shirt underneath, but there was no way I wouldn't feel her breasts through it. I put all my strength into my fingertips and moved them toward her chest. My hands trembled. Why was she bulging like a missile even while lying down? "Oppa, you've seen me in my underwear many times—what's with the nervousness?" "Hey, back then we were kids. It's different now." "Hah, hah. Yeah. After getting pregnant I think I got even bigger." "Y-yeah. Button's coming undone?" Chohee's face was still tense as she nodded. I undid the top button. The cardigan parted open like it had been waiting. Next button. Underneath, a plain white t-shirt. Beneath that, a dark-colored bra. Third button. The fancy design of the black bra showed through because sweat made the fabric cling. Fourth button. Ah, not a short-sleeve tee but a sleeveless camisole. Last button. Chohee's belly button peeked softly through the camisole. My first love, Song Chohee, looking up at me from below like a puppy with her belly exposed. Her forehead was dangerously alluring. "Then shall I start the belly massage?" "Yeah. Rub it slowly in a circle." I rubbed my palms together and gently placed them on her belly. Even over the thin camisole, Chohee's firm abs were clear to see. "Doesn't it hurt? Is it warm?" "Yeah. Oppa’s hands are so gentle." I thought Chohee's word "gentle" sounded oddly special yet felt warm. For a moment we really did feel like a married couple. Chohee let out soft moans from time to time. That meant I had to fight off the immortal lust demons. Every time I traced a circle my fingers would brush the bra. On the opposite side it was the running-shorts waistband. Unintentionally my fingers kept slipping into the shorts crack, wrinkling the white string of the camisole and exposing Chohee's bare skin. Did she notice me glancing at my own body? Chohee said calmly, "Oppa." "Ah, yeah. Feeling better?" "My belly hurts and I'm not alone." "I know. It's okay, it's okay. What does that even mean?" "That's why you can't satisfy your needs. Sorry." I wondered what she meant. Then I realized. The tent in the front of my running shorts was obvious. This was worse than embarrassment—it was betrayal and humiliation. I came running to nurse my precious sister and now I was acting like this. "Hahaha. Hey, sorry. It's not that—my blood circulation is just really good..." "No, it's been more than once. Since you can touch bare skin, keep rubbing." She really met a truckload of men and now she was playing on top of my head. Still, her little chuckle made me feel strangely at ease. It almost smelled like the old days when we were siblings. "But it's weird that life exists on such a thin belly." "They're still trying to make a baby nest. Soon I'll get a big belly too." "You'd look pretty with a belly, wouldn't you?" Chohee covered her face with her arms without a word. "Are you scared, Chohee?" "Not scared, but I'm anxious." For a moment the only sound in the room was the "squeak squeak" of me rubbing her belly. I had to choose my words carefully. Today at lunch I hadn't wanted to define Chohee just as some pitiful unmarried mom. "What are you doing this weekend?" "I'll stay home." "Then how about we go see a movie?" "Why?" "I've never dated a pretty girl before. I'm single now." Chohee lowered her arms and looked up at me quietly. "Chohee-ya, you don't want to?" "My morning sickness is really bad, oppa." "Ah, I couldn't be more considerate. Sorry, Chohee-ya." "But strangely, when I smell your scent I don't feel sick." The words Chohee continued made me stop rubbing her belly.