Wicked Fox (Gumiho #1)(14)

“Well, you said it. You should sit before the teacher gets here.”

“Sure, whatever.” Hana shrugged, a jerky movement filled with nerves. Everyone knew better than to cross Somin.

“I didn’t ask for your help,” Miyoung said, and heads across the room turned to stare in surprise.

“Excuse me?” Somin asked, and Jihoon got the impression of two powerful forces pushing against each other.



“From now on, keep out of my business.” Miyoung’s words were low but easily heard in the silent room.

Jihoon watched Somin’s jaw flex, like she held back a biting retort. But he knew her. She rarely succeeded in curbing her temper.

It was as if the whole class held their breath, waiting for the thick tension in the air to break.

Instead, the door opened and the math teacher, Mr. Hong, entered.



* * *



? ? ?

Jihoon watched Miyoung throughout the class.

She sat a row up and across the aisle from him. Her hand took quick notes as the teacher lectured. He stared at it, remembering how she snapped off the dokkaebi’s thumb. He shivered involuntarily.

Jihoon scribbled a quick note and leaned into the aisle, casting a furtive glance at Mr. Hong. The teacher was watching two kids try to solve problems at the board, tapping a split bamboo branch on his palm. He liked to crack it against desks when kids fell asleep, and Jihoon knew that before corporal punishment was outlawed in schools, Mr. Hong would have used it directly on the kids.

“Ya,” Jihoon whispered.

Miyoung’s hand stopped writing, but she didn’t look over. Jihoon tossed the paper. It hit the edge of Miyoung’s desk and fell to the floor.

Miyoung continued taking notes as if nothing had happened.

“Ya,” Jihoon said again, his voice the urgent gravel of a whisper-shout.

A foot dropped on top of the note, and Jihoon grimaced as the teacher picked it up.

“Gu Miyoung, it seems Ahn Jihoon would like you to meet him after class,” Mr. Hong said. It earned muffled laughter from the other kids. “The two of you, follow me outside.”

In the hallway, they sat on their knees, their hands raised in the air. A punishment they’d have to continue until the class period was over. Already, Jihoon’s arms ached.

“You should have caught it,” he said.

Miyoung ignored him, staring straight ahead.

“You could have caught it. I’ve seen your reflexes.”

She still didn’t answer.

In the sunlight filtering through the windows, she was striking. Almost delicate looking. But Jihoon remembered how fierce she’d been in the forest, effortlessly squaring off against the monstrous dokkaebi.

He tried again. “About the other night in the woods—”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Miyoung interrupted him.

“But—”

“I just moved here. I don’t know the area. Why would I be in the woods?” Miyoung’s face was set, her eyes clear. She seemed so sure of herself, he almost believed her over his own memory.

He started to speak again.

Mr. Hong tapped on the glass and mouthed, No talking.

Jihoon lowered his head and tried to ignore the ache in his shoulders.

The bell rang, a shrill noise that broke the silence and marked the time for gym. It hurt to lower his arms after holding them up for so long. When Jihoon stood, his legs trembled, the pricks of a thousand needles creating a shiver of pain.

As he struggled to his feet, a group of girls descended upon Miyoung, who didn’t seem to have any issues shaking off the physical effects of the punishment.

“Your face is so small. You could be a model,” one of them cooed. “I’m jealous.”

“Your skin is so clear. What foundation do you use?” asked another.

“I don’t wear any,” Miyoung said, her voice cold and dismissive. The other girls didn’t seem to get the hint as they continued to pepper her with questions.

“Ahn Jihoon.” One of the girls zeroed in on him. “Hitting on the transfer on her first day? It’s so unlike you.”

Jihoon shrugged by way of answer.

“Does Lee Somin know you’re crushing on the transfer?” Jihoon glanced over to see Miyoung’s reaction, but realized she’d taken this opportunity to disappear.

“Lee Somin knows you’re talking about her behind her back.” Somin stepped out of the classroom, her arms crossed. The girls jerked upright, like army privates faced with their colonel.

“You should change for gym class,” she said. The girls nodded and scurried away.

“Somin-ah, if you keep doing that, no one will ever talk to us again.” Jihoon threw an arm around her shoulder in a light choke hold. The movement was more to support his still-weak legs than anything else, but no one had to know.

“Is that a bad thing?” Somin jabbed him in the side so he loosened his grip. “What did you want with the transfer?”

“Just trying to be friendly,” Jihoon said. He didn’t want to discuss the confusing mystery that was Gu Miyoung right now.

“I don’t like her. She’s rude.”

“You don’t like her because she’s not afraid of you,” Changwan said, joining them.