Fifty-Seven

“Ji-won, can we talk? Please?”

It’s Geoffrey. Class has just ended, and he’s hurried over to where I’m sitting.

I’m surprised, but I don’t show it. He’s been keeping his distance since the last time he tried to talk to me, the day I destroyed George’s Rolex. I stand, making my way to the exit. “Sure. What’s up?”

He glances over my shoulder at the flood of students leaving the lecture hall. “Can we go somewhere a little more . . . private?”

I hesitate. “Please,” he begs. “I just need a minute of your time.”

“Fine.”

We walk in silence until we reach the edge of campus and turn onto a secluded street. “Where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see.” He smiles. I don’t return it.

He stops in front of an apartment building and points to a set of stairs. Cars pass us, but other than that, there aren’t many people around. Plopping himself down, he pats the concrete step next to him. “Sit.”

“No thanks. Whose apartment is this? Is it yours?”

“No, I don’t live here. I’m thirty minutes out that way—” He points, and I follow his finger, blinking in the sunlight. “In the Valley.”

“Why are we sitting in front of some random person’s apartment?”

“Just sit, Ji-won. Trust me. What are you afraid of?”

“Fine.” I sit down next to him. The space is so small that our knees bump. I try to move my leg away from his, but he only brings his closer.

“I’m really glad to have this chance to talk to you,” he starts. He’s looking everywhere except at my face, and this makes me worry about what he’s going to say. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you this, but it’s not easy. Over the past few months, I’ve started to develop feelings for you.” He takes a deep breath. “The truth is, I really like you, Ji-won. As more than a friend.” He grazes my hand with his, and I jerk away before standing up.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I don’t feel the same way about you. I’m sorry if I gave you the impression that I felt differently.”

“Come on,” he says, jumping to his feet. “You haven’t even let me finish talking.”

“I don’t want to give you the wrong idea.”

“But you barely know me. I’ve tried so hard to get to know you, to let you know what I’m about, but you haven’t given me the chance. Trust me, Ji-won, if you let me, you’d like me. I swear. Is it because I’m white?”

“No! That’s not it at all—”

“I’m a nice person, okay? I’m not like those other guys you know. Like your mom’s boyfriend. I don’t have yellow fever if that’s what you’re worried about. You know how much I read. I’ve studied pretty much every topic relating to race and gender. Fetishization is a form of oppression. I’m not an oppressor. I’m an ally! My feelings for you—no, my love for you—goes way beyond race. I love you for who you are on the inside.” He tries to touch me, his fingers brushing against my skin. I push him away. “I can’t keep going like this, pretending I don’t feel this way. I can’t sit in class knowing you’re just a few feet away. We belong together.”

I stumble backward down the stairs and fall, landing hard onto my palms. There’s a screeching pain in my head, and all I can think about is how I need to get away. Scrambling up, I gasp. “No, Geoffrey, I don’t like you. Please. I can’t do this right now.”

I sprint back toward campus. With every step I take, my temples pound. Somewhere behind, Geoffrey is chasing after me, and that makes me run even faster until I’m certain my heart is going to burst. When I reach the quad, I skid to a stop and whirl around.

Geoffrey is gone. I bend over, chest heaving, my lungs screaming for air. I reach for my water bottle, but the space where my backpack should be is empty. I close my eyes.

I stand at the edge of the grass, shaking.

Where did I put my backpack? Did I leave it with Geoffrey? I turn around and begin walking back, trying to remember where the steps are. In my haste to get away, I didn’t look at any of the cross streets.

In my head I think about what I can say to Geoffrey to appease him. Maybe I’ll extol our friendship and how important it is. Or perhaps I can convince him that I’m a terrible person.

I hurt people on purpose. I stole my cousin’s Game Boy when I was twelve. I tricked my friends and manipulated them.

It’s ridiculous. All of the apartments surrounding our school look similar: brick buildings painted an identical shade of rust red. The same jacaranda trees line each block, their purple flowers carpeting the asphalt. I swear as I try to pick out familiar streets and cars, only to have them blur together into one unrecognizable mass.

I’m about to give up when I recognize an oleander bush at an upcoming intersection. If I turn and walk to the left, the steps should be right here. . . .

I’m at the right place, but my bag is nowhere to be found. I stand there, dumbfounded, and call out softly. “Geoffrey? Are you here?”

I don’t see him. I bury my face in my hands and rake through my memory. I had my backpack when I got to class, but I can’t remember if I had it when Geoffrey cornered me. I start retracing my steps, but before I do, I stop in front of the oleander bush, contemplating.

When I was a child, Umma warned me about oleander, how every part of the plant is poison. “Don’t even touch it,” she said sternly, her finger wagging. “You could die.”

“How?” I asked.

“In Korea, there was a news story about a girl and a boy who went on a picnic and forgot to bring chopsticks. They used little branches from the oleander bush to eat their food instead, and they died from it. The poison from the plant killed them.”

I didn’t believe her. It was too pretty to be toxic, the branches heavy with pink flowers, and the next time Ji-hyun and I passed it, I pushed her toward the leaves that were trespassing onto the sidewalk. “Try it,” I giggled. “It tastes like strawberries.”

Ji-hyun stared at me. So gullible. I pushed her again. “Go! What are you, scared?”

The flowers were halfway to Ji-hyun’s mouth when Umma saw what was happening. She rushed over and knocked my sister’s hand away, causing her to cry. And then Umma turned to me, teary-eyed, her face scrunched together like a balled-up piece of paper. “How could you let your sister do something like that? It’s your job as her unni to take care of her!”

“I didn’t know,” I said sullenly.

“She could have died!”

I shut my mouth and glared at Ji-hyun, who was being a crybaby for no good reason. She hadn’t eaten the plant, so what was the big deal? I was still skeptical about what my mother had said. But then Umma wrapped me and Ji-hyun into her arms, her familiar scent enveloping us.

“You both need to be careful,” she said. “I know that the plant is pretty, but poison is everywhere, even in the places where you least expect it.”