Chapter 30. Basketball Bootcamp

Even so, Haeyoung refrained from saying the word “hit first” in front of the teacher—it felt too rude.

“Just apologize and get it over with. You’re friends, aren’t you? Tsk.”

Unlike Haeyoung, who tried to stay polite, the gym teacher clearly found the whole situation annoying and casually offered a solution while picking at her ear.

But neither girl looked like they were about to apologize. Both stared straight ahead in silence.

“Hey now, what’s with these kids?”

Perhaps too tired to push for an apology anymore, the teacher came up with a lazy alternative.

“Fine then. Whoever scores better on the performance test will get an apology from the other!”

“What?!”

Haeyoung shrieked.

“That’s not fair, teacher!”

“What isn’t?”

“I think the person who started it should be the one to apologize. That’s just basic logic.”

Haeyoung tried reasoning with her, but the gym teacher rolled her eyes and scrunched up her nose.

“Don’t argue logic with me, kid. This is my class, and what I say goes. So do as I say!”

And just like that, the teacher shouted her conclusion and walked off.

It was frustrating, but Haeyoung didn’t press further.

There was no benefit in arguing with an adult who wouldn’t act like one.

Sometimes, even an unfair rule was something you had no choice but to follow.

The next morning, Haeyoung was out in the garden practicing dribbling.

In the end, she had no choice but to accept the gym teacher’s suggestion: a score match with Gaenari to decide who would apologize.

“Whoever loses has to apologize in front of the school gate—while holding up a sketchbook with a message written by the winner.”

“Oh, what, you think I wouldn’t agree to that?”

Half out of pride, half because she had no other choice, Haeyoung accepted.

Backing out without even trying wasn’t her style.

Even if she was awful at sports, she had to at least give it a shot. Only then could she see how long or short the odds really were.

Thump.

With renewed determination, she bounced the ball—but it shot off in the wrong direction immediately.

“Ugh… this is bad…”

She muttered as she watched the ball roll away hopelessly.

And then—thunk. The ball bumped into someone’s foot. A very familiar pair of sneakers.

“What are you doing out here so early?”

Taeseong, dressed casually in a short-sleeve tee, picked up the ball and asked.

In that moment, a memory of him playing basketball on weekends flashed through Haeyoung’s mind.

Her lips curled into a hopeful smile.

“…You any good at basketball?”

Maybe Joo Taeseong could be her savior.

Taeseong shrugged.

“Basketball? I’m decent.”

“Perfect. Then teach me!”

She trotted toward him with excitement.

“Please?”

As she rose onto her toes, her face came suddenly close to his. Taeseong froze for a moment.

“This is life or death for my pride.”

The more she pleaded, the closer she leaned in. The heat rushed to the back of Taeseong’s neck.

He was suddenly reminded of that kiss—the one he was trying so hard to forget.

And… she smelled like fruit.

He didn’t know if it was perfume or something she ate, but the scent and the sight of her overwhelmed his senses.

His chest tightened as if someone were squeezing it.

Just as the warning lights went off in his head, he reached out and pressed his finger against her forehead to push her away.

“…Fine, fine. Just back up a little.”

“Yes!”

Before he even finished, Haeyoung jumped with joy.

Her innocent delight lit up her face in the morning sunlight.

Seeing her that way made even Taeseong chuckle.

And so, basketball bootcamp began.

In an apartment in downtown New York, Minju stepped out of the bedroom and picked up the phone while pouring herself a glass of water.

“Hello?”

[Minju, are you serious? What’s this about taking a leave of absence?!]

She had only notified her mother by message due to the time difference, but now she was finally getting the call.

“Mom, just calm down and hear me out.”

[Fine. Let’s hear it.]

Minju’s mother took a breath and tried to collect herself.

Minju was the only daughter of Jaeseong Ilbo’s editor-in-chief, and currently studying jazz piano at NYU.

From a young age, her artistic talent was clear, so her mother had pushed for her to study abroad.

The plan was for Minju to come back to Korea, become a professor, and eventually marry into a respectable family.

Minju had no real objections to the plan.

Her goal was to have a good career and marry someone impressive—living a graceful life, like her mother.

Even at 21, Minju had a very clear vision for her future.

That’s why Taeseong’s confession at 18 had been a disruption.

Not the confession itself, but the timing.

She had known for years that Taeseong liked her.

But she didn’t expect him to confess before becoming an adult.

She thought he’d wait until he was 20, which would’ve given her time to date other men, enjoy her youth, and accept him later.

To Minju, Taeseong wasn’t a transfer stop. He was the final destination.

So she had postponed accepting his feelings.

She believed that, no matter what, he wouldn’t fall for anyone else before then.

But marriage? And to someone whose background wasn’t even clear?

This was an unexpected and completely unacceptable development.

Still, if she could win him back, that was enough.

“Mom, I want to go see Taeseong.”

[What…?]

“You know he used to follow me around all the time when we were younger.”

[Yes, but still…]

“I didn’t think he’d get married before turning twenty.”

[Minju…]

“You told me to become a professor and marry well, and I’ve been working toward that. I may be young, but Taeseong was always the ideal match in my mind.”

Minju laid out her argument logically.

On the other end, her mother was silent.

“Even if I accomplish all my other goals, what’s the point if I lose the last one?”

[So what do you plan to do? He was handpicked by Chairman Joo himself.]

“Mom, even Chairman Joo can’t go against Taeseong’s will. Parents can’t win against their children.”

[Minju, there are other good men. You don’t have to go this far…]

“I know. But none of them love me the way Taeseong does—and come with his credentials.”

Her mom had wanted to say she was still young and shouldn’t cling to any one person yet—but she held her tongue.

Minju rarely made demands, but when she did, she never backed down.

[You really have to do this?]

“Yes. I’ll return to Korea this weekend. If I win Taeseong back, I’ll re-enroll.”

[…Fine. Do what you want.]

The call ended—technically not permission, but not a denial either.

Minju placed her phone down on the kitchen island and took a sip of water.

“Wait for me, Taeseong.”

She smiled languidly at a photo on her phone—her and Taeseong, taken together long ago.

Back in Korea, the two headed to a nearby park where Taeseong often played basketball.

The weather was crisp and fresh, almost as if cheering them on.

Haeyoung, feeling newly hopeful that she might beat Gaenari, began to feel the pressure in her chest.

Beyond the competition—just being taught by Taeseong made her heart flutter.

They reached the basketball court, and Haeyoung stopped at the entrance.

She stared blankly at Taeseong’s back as he walked ahead with the ball in his hand.

Tall frame, broad shoulders, neatly trimmed hair.

A back that made you want to hug it. Long, strong legs.

Anyone would like him—she’d thought that, even when she used to hate him.

Maybe if he were a little less handsome, she wouldn’t have fallen this hard?

She laughed bitterly at the thought.

But she hadn’t fallen for him because of his looks.

It was his warm words. His gentle gestures.

Those were what had moved her heart.

“What are you doing back there?”

Lost in thought, Haeyoung hadn’t noticed the footsteps behind her had stopped.

Taeseong turned around and called out.

“Huh? Oh… coming.”

Shaken from her daze, Haeyoung quickly stepped forward.

Trying to sound serious, she asked,

“So, where do we start?”

“Depends on your goal. I need to know how hard to train you.”

Ball tucked under his arm, Taeseong tilted his head and looked at her.

“Um, well…”

Cornered by the sharp question, Haeyoung opened her mouth—but froze.

She couldn’t say, “I’m in this mess because I got in a hair-pulling fight with a girl and now have to outscore her.”

She didn’t want to look like a street fighter in front of her crush.