Keeping Our Distance
After chauffeuring her around a few times, I'd gotten somewhat used to the role. Sure, even cracking the window for a second made it brutally hot. Hell, 34 degrees at the end of August? No way. My sister had come back drenched in sweat from that short walk, so since yesterday, I'd been keeping two towels in the car—one for me, one to toss her.
The weather was so bizarre that being outside felt like it was baking my brain. At least today the breeze was somewhat refreshing. Though whether 30 degrees counted as pleasant was debatable.
I pulled into the usual shoulder spot and let go of the steering wheel. She should be out any minute now. Leaning back against the seat in a daze, my phone rang, and I clicked the earbud.
"Yeah, Gyeo-ul? Where you at?"
"Who's Gyeo-ul, you fucking asshole?"
Unfortunately, not my sister.
"What do you want?"
"Hey, when the hell are we eating? You checking the group chat?"
"Pick Saturday or Sunday and just let me know. I've got time anyway."
"Where you at right now?"
"Seocho."
"Come to Yongsan. A few of us are already here."
"Can't."
"You said you've got time. You messing with me?"
"I meant on the weekend. Today, I'd die before I could go."
"What're you doing?"
"Gotta buy my sister dinner."
"You little shit. Can't you mix up your excuses once in a while?"
No, it's true. There's no food at home today.
"Got prior plans then? Ditch 'em?"
"Yeah, you'd pick your girlfriend over your friends, huh."
"What girlfriend? She won't even leave the house."
"Seocho's your house?"
"Don't nitpick bullshit. See you Sunday."
"Sunday? Places aren't open. Didn't you see the news?"
"Then tomorrow. Hanging up."
I ended the pointless conversation and pulled out my earbuds. As I ignored the incoming barrage of complaints one by one, droplets started forming on the windshield. The sun had been weak today—guess it's raining. Just a shower, though?
I grabbed an umbrella and checked the front gate just in case, but outsiders weren't allowed in. As I was about to call her, someone in a familiar uniform came running toward me, bag clutched tight.
"Haa, haa... Oppa..."
"No umbrella?"
"Yeah..."
"Let's get out of the rain first."
"Okay."
I held the umbrella over her as she panted from the sprint. She wasn't soaked through, but her hair, shoulders, and shoes were plenty damp. Back at the car, I tossed her bag in the back and pulled out the unused pink towel to hand over.
"...Oppa, gimme a bag."
"Why?"
"Uh... nowhere to put my socks."
My sister, shaking out her hair, suddenly spoke up. Well, you can't just toss socks anywhere. I handed her a motion sickness bag.
"Thanks."
She draped the towel around her neck and hunched over. She stuffed her socks into the plastic bag, straightened up, propped her knees, and started wiping her feet.
Looking out, the rain had picked up. The friction sounds piercing through the downpour grated on my nerves for some reason.
"...What do you want for dinner?"
"Kinda gross right now. Let's just go home first."
"Guess we'll order in tonight."
"Then eating out tomorrow."
"What?"
"Can't eat out starting Sunday."
"...Why not?"
"You promised to buy it."
"Never promised."
"Oh, right—not a promise. You said you'd help, yeah?"
"...Lemme think."
Once she'd dried off, the plastic rustled. Turning back, she was still in that position but had twisted her face toward me.
"...Hey, sit like that and you'll wet the seat."
"Can't step barefoot on the floor. Shoes are still damp."
"Crash and you'll break your shin."
"I trust you drive well, so it's fine."
"You think crashes only happen to passengers?"
...Frustrating. Can't even check the side mirror properly. I sighed and started the engine.
"...Oppa, take me somewhere empty for a sec."
"Why?"
"Gym clothes in my bag. Wanna change."
"Twenty minutes tops. Need to?"
"You said don't wet the seat. Feels gross too."
"That wet?"
"Back's a bit."
She buried her face between her knees and pointed to her back. Sure enough, her nape was damp.
"...Tinted anyway, so change here. I'll wait outside."
"No, I'll go to the back seat. It's raining."
She reclined the passenger seat, braced her knees on the backrest, and climbed over. Zipper sounds from her bag—I buried my head and pulled out my phone.
My friend fired back curses right away. Yeah, I was in the wrong this time, but whatever.
The rustling grew loud, so I plugged in my earbuds and played some random video. Watching cats meowing and rolling around calmed me down a bit. Staring blankly at the kittens, a foot passed in my peripheral vision.
"Whatcha watching?"
"Cats."
"You like cats too, oppa?"
"Not hate 'em."
Turning back, there was my sister in gym clothes, holding the blue towel.
"Hey, what about the towel from earlier?"
"That was for my feet. Gotta dry my back too."
"No, I mean... never mind."
She meticulously wiped off the remaining moisture and buckled up. This time propping her knees sideways.
...Man, she's got a talent for making things awkward. What's the point of the seatbelt like that?
Back home, after dinner, I leaned against the sofa. Belly full, staring blankly at the TV, my mind started to blur.
"Thanks for the food."
"..."
"And thanks for tomorrow's too."
"...What?"
"Better pick a spot ahead of time, right?"
She finished eating and plopped down next to me, snapping me awake. Scrolling her phone, she shoved it at me once she found something.
"Here. This place."
"...That's dessert. What about dinner?"
"You pick dinner. You said there're tons you wanna go to."
"What do you want?"
"Hmm, sushi sounds good. Pasta too."
"How much you planning to mooch?"
"No chances after tomorrow, so all day."
"...No studying?"
"Gotta refresh sometimes."
...Doesn't refresh work better if it's rare? Pretty sure I bought her meals a few times this week already.
"Yesterday, three days ago—weren't those out?"
"That was just eating. Not mooching."
"I paid, you sent money later."
"Tteokbokki doesn't feel like mooching anyway."
"So mooching expensive stuff from me is your refresh?"
"Refreshing means going out, and mooching from you is a bonus. Win-win."
She teased me like breathing. Weird—I didn't raise her like this. Was hoping a year of kindness would make her sweeter? Maybe spoiling her occasionally back in the day worked better.
"Fine. Lunch sushi, dinner pasta. Cafe in between. What about the rest?"
"Just chill at the cafe, no plans."
"...That's your refresh?"
"Just... too much on my mind lately."
"What's the big worry?"
"Examinees fret even doing nothing."
Doing nothing would make anyone fret. Study and it'd go away, wouldn't it, Kim Gyeo-ul?
...Didn't say it to avoid a fight.
"...Sushi lunch, pasta dinner?"
"Dessert in between."
"Heard there's a good spot in Hongdae. There?"
"Where? Show me."
As I searched destinations, she leaned in to peek. ...Tie your hair up or something. Arm itches. Took an hour of bickering, but we settled on the first place I'd found.
I couldn't hold back anymore. Literally.
Discharged a week ago—holding out that long's pretty good, right? Afterward, my head cleared right up. Separately, though... today had some uncomfortable stuff. No, annoying. For real.
Not because of that. Not looking at her that way—it's just viscerally gross. Like finding someone else's underwear in the laundry. That vibe.
Late night, washing up in the bathroom. Hot—need a shower. Stepping out for clothes, I bumped into my sister on the sofa.
"...Not sleeping?"
"Not even midnight yet."
"Oh, right... yeah."
Hands dried, but cold sweat started beading again. ...Wasn't loud. No smell. Should be fine. Probably.
"...? Not coming out?"
"Nah, showering now. Use the master bath if you need."
"Just wiping down. Quick."
She walked over, so I blocked the door in panic—but she slipped right past.
...She doesn't know, right? Should've just... fuck. Back to my room, I flopped onto the bed. Buried my face in the pillow, clawing my hair.
She doesn't know. Easier to believe that. No evidence, right? Yeah?
Mid self-justification, the door opened.
"...Uh, all done. You can use it now, oppa."
"Huh? Oh, yeah."
"...Night."
She waved awkwardly and left. ...Wait, no smell's the suspicious part, dumbass.