Wicked Fox (Gumiho #1)(4)

“Yes, Sunsaengnim,” the class chorused.

“That’s it for today,” Miss Kwon said.

The class president stood. “Attention. Salute.”

“Thank you,” the students chorused as they bowed in unison.

Instead of leaving, Miss Kwon walked down the aisle and knocked on Jihoon’s desk. “If you come in late again, it’s detention.”

“Yes, Sunsaengnim.” Changwan bowed so low, his forehead smacked his desk beside Jihoon.

“Saem, you say that like spending more time with you is a punishment.” Jihoon accompanied the words with a lazy grin.

Miss Kwon fought the smile that eventually bloomed across her face. “I’m serious, Ahn Jihoon.”

“So am I,” Jihoon replied without missing a beat. He widened his smile so his dimples flashed.

Miss Kwon let out a soft chuckle despite herself. “It’s my last warning,” she said before exiting the classroom.

As soon as she cleared the back door, the peace of the room erupted into the chaos of kids jumping up from their seats to join their friends.

Changwan shook his head. “I don’t know why teachers let you talk like that.”

“It’s because of my charm and good looks.”

“It’s because he’s so ridiculous, they have to laugh or else they’d scream.” Lee Somin stepped up to the boys’ joined desks. She was 158 centimeters of attitude packed in a petite package who’d known Jihoon since they were in diapers.

She glanced at the kid sitting in front of Jihoon. “Get lost.”

The boy scurried from his chair like a startled rabbit.

Jihoon took in his best friend. Somin dressed like a handbook for how to break dress code: her uniform shirt unbuttoned to reveal a graphic tee beneath; her nails painted black. Her hair was different again. Somin’s look changed with the seasons, a girl who could never make up her mind. It gave Jihoon whiplash, but he also hated change. It took too much effort. Today her short hair was dyed bright red, and she looked as fired up as her locks right now.

Jihoon flicked a hand across a flaming strand. “What punishment did the vice principal give you today?”

“I had to kneel in front of the school this morning. Again.”

“You had to know you’d get in trouble for it,” Jihoon pointed out.

“You’re one to talk,” Somin retorted. “What are you going to tell your halmeoni if you get detention and the school calls her again?”

Jihoon’s easy smile disappeared at the thought of his grandmother’s reaction. Then he dismissed it. Concern took too much effort.

“You should care more. The school year is more than half over,” she said with a pointed look at the changing leaves of autumn outside. Jihoon usually loved fall because it meant winter was right around the corner and then school would end. At least until it annoyingly started up again in March.

“So?” Jihoon asked, though he knew what Somin was going to say.

“So next year is our third year.”

When Jihoon gave her a blank stare, she continued, “Our senior year and suneung exams. You’re the bottom-ranked student in the second-year class right now.”

“Someone has to be last when there are rankings,” Jihoon pointed out.

“Why is everything such a joke to you?” Somin asked.

“I’m not joking. I just—”

“Don’t care,” Changwan and Somin chorused.

Jihoon shrugged with a rueful smile. He knew everyone thought he was an affable guy with nothing much going for him. That’s how he liked it. The less people expected from him, the more they left him alone.

Somin was the only person in the whole school who continuously believed in Jihoon no matter what. Something he graciously forgave her for, due to their lifelong friendship.

“One of these days you’re going to find yourself in a situation even you can’t talk your way out of,” she said.

“When that day comes, should I take a page from your book and punch my way out?” Jihoon mussed her hair.

Somin slapped his hand away. “Like you could. Look at those weak sticks you call arms. The only time you lift your hands is to shove food into your mouth or wipe your butt.”

Changwan cringed. “Somin-ah, not very ladylike of you.”

“And when did I ever claim to be a lady?” Somin tilted her head. A tiger eyeing her prey.

“Never.” Changwan lowered his eyes.

As his friends continued to bicker, Jihoon laid his head down to take a nap.



* * *



? ? ?

It was so late the sun barely lit the streets when Jihoon climbed the hill toward home, past the forest bordering town. The woods were welcoming during the day, frequented by hikers and families seeking a bit of nature in the bustling metropolis. At night, however, the branches looked more crooked and the leaves shivered from invisible beasts passing. Jihoon grew up beside this mountain forest, and he’d never dared set foot inside after night fell. A by-product of fables his halmeoni used to tell him of goblins and ghosts coming out at night to eat bad little boys.

“Late again, Jihoon-ah.” An old woman sat outside the medicinal wine store. Everyone called her Hwang Halmeoni. She was the oldest person in the neighborhood and claimed she’d stopped keeping track of her age years ago. Last she knew, she was ninety-two.