Eighteen's Bed

Chapter 6.2

"Oh, for God's sake, stop talking about that already. It’s ringing in my ears. It’s obvious! Kang Jun is good at studying, so of course, your parents are telling you to study too. Hey, all parents think the same way."

"Yeah, I actually used Kang Jun’s name a few times myself."

Park Dongchul shot back at Go Yohan’s words, and Lee Seokhyeon snickered. Kim Seokmin picked up the conversation.

"What did they say?"

"They didn’t believe me. They said, ‘If you’re hanging out with him, why are your grades still trash?’"

"Fuck, same here!"

Laughter erupted. That crisis passed without issue.

The second one came during lunchtime. Today, Go Yohan waited for me and, as the others hurried out, waved his hand and said, "I’m eating with Jun. Bye."

Kim Minho’s face lit up instantly. So did mine.

Han Taesan and Han Junwoo had vanished again, nowhere to be seen. By now, no one even looked for them anymore—they were like potted plants in the classroom, not worth any real attention but still faintly irritating in the background.

My eyes followed the empty seats, while my ears followed Go Yohan’s voice.

"You really met him at church?"

"Yeah. I didn’t realize at first, but when I thought about it, he looked like someone I knew. Turns out, it was you."

"I do take after my dad a lot."

"You’re smiling. You must really like your dad."

I turned my gaze to the clock on the wall. It was about time to head down. Just then, something cold touched my cheek. Go Yohan’s fingers. Those cold, insistent fingers gently turned my face toward him.

"We’re having a conversation. Look at me."

Go Yohan smiled slightly. But for some reason, that smile made me uneasy. And yet, the place he touched burned into my senses, the sensation impossible to ignore. My chest felt strangely tight.

"Ah. Sorry."

"Now, focus on me."

His tone was oddly instructive. It annoyed me a little, and just as I was about to say something, he tapped my cheek lightly with his fingers, cutting me off.

"And by the way, I hate my dad. I’m only telling you. It’s a secret, okay?"

Everything’s a secret with him. I brushed away Go Yohan’s fingers and stood up.

"Got it, now let’s go. We need to eat."

"It’s already that late?"

"Ohh—" Go Yohan checked the clock and got up. As we left the classroom together, he suddenly asked,

"Right, why’d you say that earlier?"

"Say what?"

"When I called you cute, you told me not to act like Han Junwoo."

I looked at him incredulously. He was still hung up on that? But his expression was unusually serious, so I answered honestly.

"If you do things like that, people will start looking down on you."

"They? Look down on me? Them?"

Go Yohan pointed at himself in mock offense. His tone was filled with utter disbelief. I couldn’t help but be dumbfounded. Just how much did he look down on his friends?

"That would never happen."

His gaze was filled with absolute certainty. The kind of look that crushed others beneath it. There were countless emotions and circumstances layered in that response. The tallest guy in the school, the best fighter, smart but not failing either, perfect English scores, and on top of that, a handsome, rich kid.

To people who were neither smart nor patient, without money or connections, he must have been an impenetrable wall. Even so, I shook my head.

"Still, it’s better to avoid that kind of situation. Weird misunderstandings. Things getting tangled up in unnecessary drama."

"Yeah, yeah. You’re always like that."

His tone was sarcastic, but the feeling behind it was oddly approving. I couldn’t tell if he meant it in a good or bad way.

"I’ve been watching you for a while, and you always complicate things."

"You’ve been watching me?"

"......?"

Shit. My mind went blank for a second. That was a mistake. Why the hell did I say that? Idiot. I clamped my mouth shut, my brain scrambling for damage control.

"You watch me?"

"No, that’s not what I meant—"

"You watch me."

Ah. Go Yohan scratched his chin and nodded, as if pleased. But why did he look so damn smug about it? Shouldn’t he find it weird?

While I was struggling to comprehend his thought process, he grinned.

"Well, if I had to explain, that’s just how I am. I like complicated things. Twisted things."

"You don’t really need to explain—"

"Just, keep it in mind."

What? Why? I didn’t even have time to question it before I was too busy trying to smooth things over. My eyes darted around, looking for an escape, and I blurted out something pointless.

"Then why don’t you just study? The world’s full of complicated problems."

"Ah. Don’t you know? The more someone tells you to study, the less you want to."

"That’s just an excuse."

"It’s not an excuse."

In the middle of the staircase, Go Yohan suddenly stopped. Then he turned around.

Was Yohan just joking about the whole ‘braised pollack’ thing, and I took it too seriously, making him mad?

Did he really use my Post-it by pure coincidence?

"......."

I sneaked a glance at him, sitting there, focused on class.

He really was a difficult guy.

These days, Yohan had been in an unusually good mood.

The moment homeroom ended, he grabbed his bag and turned to me.

"Hey there, the lonely neighborhood resident?"

His teasing tone made me hesitate.

I felt irritation rise in my throat, but I swallowed it down and forced myself to respond indifferently.

Showing emotions in front of others was the dumbest thing you could do.

"Cut it out. I get it. Sorry for noticing late, alright? I said I’m sorry."

"You’re walking home with me today, right?"

His face was full of mischief, his expression playful as he pestered me.

It was so bright and casual that, for a moment, I wondered if he had ever looked at me with those cold, distant eyes in the first place.

Maybe I was the only one who remembered.

Go Yohan, on the other hand, seemed completely unbothered by what happened yesterday.

It bothered me.

Whenever I stayed still, that cold gaze would creep back into my mind.

Every now and then, the memory would come back for no reason and make me feel a strange kind of sorrow.

"Aren’t you going to answer when someone asks you a question?"

Suddenly, a large hand grabbed my cheek and turned my face toward him.

In an instant, Yohan’s face filled my vision.

For a second, I forgot how to breathe.

This was Yohan’s biggest flaw.

At least Han Junwoo never touched me like this.

His grip on my cheek tightened, making my lips push forward.

That snapped me out of it, and I looked at him properly.

Yohan seemed to be expecting a certain reaction from me.

His expression was blank, unimpressed.

"If you start making excuses again, you’re dead."

"...I’m really sorry, but I can’t walk home with you today."

"Oh? What, is today your funeral or something?"

Yohan pretended to grab my throat and shake me.

It didn’t hurt at all. There was no malice in it.

And that only made me more uncomfortable.

This kind of subtle kindness.

"No, I have a special lecture at my academy today. I have to go early."

"Aah—"

Yohan stretched his mouth open as he replied, still keeping his hand around my throat.

"That sucks."

"...Let’s walk home together tomorrow. School ends early, and my academy’s closed, so you can come over and hang out. You’re doing extra classes, right?"

I hurriedly tried to placate him.

I had been absolutely certain this would never happen.

I clearly remembered how much I used to hate him.

But now, what the hell was this?

It was like I was seventeen again, relapsing.

Even in that moment, my words had come from a logical place.

Since Yohan actually cared about his grades, it was obvious he would be taking extra classes over break.

As expected, he gave a small nod.

"Good. But if you change your mind tomorrow, I won’t let you off easy."

"I won’t change my mind. Don’t worry."

And then, I realized what a stupid eighteen-year-old I still was.

Because even during my academy lecture, all I could think about was Yohan.

His cold stare.

His playful touch.

They kept looping in my head.

No matter how much I tried to act mature, I was still just an eighteen-year-old who got way too caught up in Go Yohan’s mood swings.