Chapter 8

The next day, Yoon-ah kept reading the message she had written to Young-won. She was worried it might not fully show how sorry she felt.

She wanted to apologize in person, but she had no time. After class, she had to rush to the café, and then pack the rest of her moving boxes. After checking the message one last time, she finally sent it:

[Thank you so much for yesterday, Young-won. But after the older senior left, I honestly don’t remember much… I know you put me in a taxi and got me home, but if I made any mistakes, I’m really sorry. I always trouble you. I feel bad. Let me buy you a meal when you’re free.]

“…Ha…”

She remembered vaguely that in the taxi she had said silly things like, “Why are you at my house?” but left that out—it was too embarrassing. She couldn’t recall Young-won’s reaction at all. Actually, she wasn’t even sure if she had really taken a taxi.

So… I really can’t handle alcohol…

Sighing over her weak drinking tolerance, she walked into her lecture hall. It was a major class, so many freshmen she had seen at the welcome party were there. Most sat in groups, chatting. Some gave her a polite nod, but no one invited her to join. She felt out of place.

Her phone buzzed. It was Young-won’s reply:

[You didn’t do anything wrong, so don’t worry.]

It was short and businesslike, but today it felt cold. Should she text again? While she hesitated, something caught her eye: a keychain with a ginseng mascot—the one she had lost from her eco-bag.

She looked up. A girl from the welcome party was holding it.

“Oh—I didn’t even know I dropped it. Thank you.”

“You’re from Gusan, right?”

The girl’s local dialect hit Yoon-ah’s ears. It was so familiar that Yoon-ah froze.

“I’m from Nansan,” the girl added. That was the next town over from Yoon-ah’s hometown.

“Wow! Really? That’s so nice!”

Yoon-ah’s face lit up.

The girl giggled. “Well, it’s more lively than Gusan at least. Isn’t Gusan just mountains and valleys?”

Yoon-ah laughed awkwardly and admitted it was true. The girl asked if the seat next to her was free. Yoon-ah quickly cleared her desk.

She realized she couldn’t recall the girl’s name, so she asked carefully.

“Oh, right—yesterday was too formal, so I didn’t use dialect. I’m An Seo-yeon.”

“I’m Han Yoon-ah.”

“I remember you! You’re so pretty. Gusan finally produced a beauty.”

It reminded Yoon-ah of what village grandmothers used to say about her. Her nose tingled with emotion, and she smiled softly.

Seo-yeon asked why Yoon-ah didn’t use dialect. Yoon-ah hesitated, then admitted,

“My older brother scolded me whenever I did. He said I had to speak standard Korean so people wouldn’t look down on me.”

Seo-yeon nodded seriously. “Makes sense. First impressions are important—strike first.”

They both laughed. Seo-yeon patted Yoon-ah’s shoulder. “Let’s drop the formal speech. Talk comfortably.”

“Okay, if you do first.”

“Alright.”

They shared another laugh. Yoon-ah, who normally preferred politeness with strangers, quickly relaxed with Seo-yeon.

Class began. Yoon-ah opened her notebook, but Seo-yeon pulled out a tablet. Most other students also had tablets or laptops. Yoon-ah thought briefly that maybe she should bring hers too.

Then Seo-yeon slid her tablet toward Yoon-ah. On the screen, she had written:

[What’s your number? I like strong, pretty unnies.]

She smiled and held out her phone.

Yoon-ah’s heart warmed. So I finally have a friend. She typed her number carefully.

After school, Yoon-ah went to the café for interviews. The last applicant was sitting across from her.

“…You can’t work weekends?”

“I have another job.”

“And you can only start next week?”

“Yes.”

After confirming the details, Yoon-ah offered the applicant a cup of her homemade apple syrup ade.

“Thank you for coming. I’ll let you know soon.”

The applicant smiled and left. Yoon-ah slumped in her chair.

The ad on Dingdong Market, which Young-won suggested, had brought more applicants than expected. But the real issue was wages. She could only afford to hire a full-timer for maybe three months. After that, she’d have to manage herself during summer break.

She rubbed her temples. “At least in vacation, I can do full shifts myself…”

Just then, the café doorbell rang. She looked up.

It was Young-won, standing hesitantly at the entrance.

“…Young-won?”

He seemed unsure of whether to step in.