Wicked Fox (Gumiho #1)(40)

“The whole Han River?” Jihoon asked.

“Well, not all of it. But I’ve always wanted to walk along one of those paths by the river, maybe ride a bike, and sit by the water. It must feel good during the summertime.”

Jihoon noted the longing in her voice. “You like the water?”

“No. I’m actually terrified.”

“Really?” Jihoon asked.

“Yeah, I always have been. My mother once enrolled me in swimming lessons when I was five but I wouldn’t even go into the pool. At first I thought it must be part of my gumiho side, but Yena doesn’t seem to have any problem with water. So it’s just another way I’m weaker than her.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“You said I’m empty. I’m filling in the void.”

Jihoon nodded. “I guess we all have our phobias.”

“What’s yours?”

“Frogs,” he answered immediately.

“Frogs?” Miyoung gave him an incredulous look.

“They’re slimy and their back legs are disproportionately strong. It’s creepy.” He shuddered.

That got a laugh out of Miyoung and softened the mood. Exactly what Jihoon intended.

Her nose scrunched, and her eyes became half-moons that sparkled with humor.

“There it is,” he murmured. “That’s pretty.”

Her mouth dropped open, then snapped closed, as if she meant to reply but thought better of it. Her eyes stayed on his, taking his measure. He could almost see the wheels turning in her head, trying to figure him out.

“We should get back,” Miyoung said, starting back toward the scooter.





17





MIYOUNG WASN’T SURE if she was prepared to go home just yet. A new talisman was nestled in her pocket next to her bead. Two lies she kept from her mother. Lies she didn’t want to think about right now.

Jihoon parked behind a short square building. The savory scent of doenjang jjigae permeated the air. It was a simple dish, but no Korean could smell it and not feel comforted.

“Where are we?” Miyoung swung off the scooter.

Before Jihoon answered, a voice called out. “Have I been replaced, Jihoon-ah?”

Jihoon chuckled and called back to the old halmeoni sitting on a wooden platform across the street. “Never, you’ll always be my number one.”

“She’s a yeowu.”

Jihoon and Miyoung both froze, exchanging shocked looks.

“A foxy girl,” the halmeoni said with an amused cackle. “Very pretty.”

Jihoon let out a relieved breath. “Yes, she is.”

They both turned when the back door of the restaurant crashed open.

“Jihoon-ah! Where have you been?” An elderly woman stood framed in the doorway. Her hands were folded firmly across her chest. Her hair was a shock of white. Her face wrinkled in stern lines.

This was not a woman to cross.

“Halmeoni, this is Miyoung. She’s a new transfer student in our class.” Jihoon pushed Miyoung forward, ducking behind her like a shield.

“What did I tell you about pushing people?” Halmeoni asked, whipping a rag out of her apron and smacking him with it. Her aim was so precise that Miyoung felt the wind from the rag without feeling the sting of it herself.

Jihoon raced around to Miyoung’s other side, trying to escape, but his halmeoni followed, surprisingly spry.

Miyoung was fascinated at the display. Usually, when faced with a guest, people were painstakingly polite. Hiding their family drama behind a facade of bright smiles. Not this family. Jihoon’s halmeoni beat on him with the rag while he shouted out in protest.

“I swear, Ahn Jihoon, you are enough to age me ten years in one day. First you get arrested and then you disappear all night? Do you want me to have a heart attack?” From her booming question, Miyoung doubted this was a woman who’d succumb to any ailment easily.

“I was detained, not arrested,” Jihoon argued, and his halmeoni’s eyes narrowed. Even Miyoung was afraid of how she’d reply.

“Later, Ahn Jihoon. I will deal with you later.” Halmeoni smiled at Miyoung, a lightning change in mood. “I suspect you’re hungry.”

Miyoung was surprised by the quick shift from anger to hospitality but she remembered to bow in belated greeting. “No, I’m fine.”

“Nonsense, you’re a teenager. Teenagers are always hungry.” Halmeoni shuffled back inside, giving Miyoung no chance to refuse again.

“Come on.” Jihoon pulled Miyoung’s arm toward the restaurant.



“I think I should go,” Miyoung said, though the aroma from inside made her mouth water.

“Just let her feed you. She’ll never let you leave until you eat.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to use me as a way to delay your punishment?”

“Of course I do, so be a good friend and let me.” Jihoon gave her a crooked grin and her heart wavered. She should have corrected him, told him they weren’t friends, but for some reason she didn’t. It seemed odd that a month ago she hadn’t known this boy existed and now she almost yearned for his company.

The cramped restaurant was unimpressive. The yellowing linoleum was cracked; the water filter gave a sad gurgle in the corner. Under a single fluorescent light, a small table was set for dinner. Steaming bowls of doenjang jjigae filled the room with the salty scent of bean paste.