7MoH 1.11

After briefly contemplating in front of the mirror, Jeong-in decided to keep his clothes but removed his glasses and put in contacts. Judging by Chase and his friends’ reactions, his glasses definitely seemed to detract from his appearance.

He generally avoided wearing contacts because they felt like touching his eyeballs. He only wore them rarely for important events, but today was an exception.

Throwing a hooded jacket over his clothes, he crept across the hallway, careful not to be caught by his mother. His curfew was 10 PM, and he had never broken it before.

As Jeong-in carefully opened and closed the front door to avoid making noise, Chase straightened up from where he’d been leaning against the car.

His Porsche looked out of place in the neighborhood filled with old cars. Chase was still wearing his suit, which made it seem like he had come to pick up his prom date.

Chase stared intently at Jeong-in as he approached with quiet steps. His blue eyes narrowed as if examining something closely, then widened again. That gaze was so intense that Jeong-in unconsciously touched his face.

“Why, why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re not wearing glasses?”

“Well… I’m at home.”

Maybe he should have worn them after all. Jeong-in awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. The hair under his fingertips felt strangely unfamiliar.

“You didn’t have to bring it like this…”

Instead of handing over the red book Jeong-in had hoped for, Chase opened the passenger door. Then he gestured with his chin for Jeong-in, who was tilting his head in confusion, to get in.

“I’m hungry. Let’s go get dinner.”

“Dinner? At this hour? But look at me…”

“You just look cute, so what?”

Jeong-in hesitated, not getting into the car. Chase then slightly bent his upper body, rubbing his stomach with an expression of pain.

“I’m about to starve to death. Save me.”

Even his frowning face was tolerable thanks to his pretty features. Eventually, Jeong-in reluctantly got into the passenger seat, and Chase, looking satisfied, personally closed the door for him.

It felt strange to finally ride in Chase’s Porsche after only ever admiring it from afar. The body of the car was lower than expected, making Jeong-in flinch momentarily, feeling like he would touch the ground as he sat down. The seat was firm but enveloping, making it comfortable.

As Jeong-in looked around at the luxurious interior, he suddenly let out a small laugh. It was somehow amusing that the school’s biggest nerd was sitting in the passenger seat of his car, which had alternately carried perfect beauties like Vivian Sinclair or Chloe Fairchild.

“Why are you laughing?”

Chase, who had just gotten into the driver’s seat, asked without starting the engine, his blue eyes fixed on Jeong-in.

“Huh? Me?”

“You just laughed. Why?”

He seemed determined not to start the car until he got an answer. It occurred to Jeong-in that Chase Prescott might have an unexpectedly persistent side.

“Just… I think the average quality of people sitting in the passenger seat has dropped significantly. Usually, it’s girls like Vivian Sinclair or Chloe Fairchild sitting here. But now a nerd like me is sitting here… it’s just funny.”

“…”

Chase didn’t say anything, and Jeong-in regretted his self-deprecating comment and kept quiet. Excessive modesty wasn’t particularly considered a virtue here. Nevertheless, such habitual remarks sometimes put him in awkward situations.

“Put on your seatbelt. Unless you’re waiting for me to do it for you.”

Chase spoke in a slightly playful, languid voice. Jeong-in quickly fastened his seatbelt without hesitation. As the belt clicked into place, the car smoothly pulled away.

Although Jeong-in had expected the wind to rush in wildly, the car was surprisingly cozy with the windows up. It was fascinating how he could see the sky just by looking up. So this is why people drive convertibles, Jeong-in thought to himself.

Chase glanced at Jeong-in, who was looking up at the sky, and slightly reduced his speed.

Jeong-in turned his head toward the driver’s seat and asked,

“Why haven’t you eaten dinner yet?”

“Been dragged around here and there.”

Though his voice was light, it carried a hint of fatigue. Understandably so. He was the King of the Spring Fling dance. He must have had a busy time taking photos, doing interviews with the school broadcasting club, and performing the King and Queen dance.

“I heard you were crowned King. Congratulations.”

“Are you sincere? I thought you’d consider something like the Spring Fling dance a pathetic gathering of fools.”

Having said exactly that to Suzy a few days earlier, Jeong-in felt like his thoughts had been read and pressed his lips together.

“Haha.”

Looking at Jeong-in, Chase burst into laughter.

“You’re really funny.”

Jeong-in couldn’t understand why Chase was laughing with his shoulders shaking. What part of him—practically the human embodiment of boringness—could possibly be funny? But Chase seemed genuinely amused. His relaxed, smiling face looked as if he was taking a moment to catch his breath from his busy schedule.

The car arrived at a diner Jeong-in had seen in passing before. The flickering neon sign, the exterior decorated with red and chrome, and the cars packed tightly in the parking lot—it was exactly like the 24-hour diners commonly seen across America.

Through the large windows, the interior was visible with people seated at every table, and the coffee cups of customers sitting at the bar were being continuously refilled.

They got out of the car and entered the diner. The small bell that rang as they opened the door felt somehow familiar.

Chase walked to an empty booth, sat down, immediately took off his jacket, and unbuttoned one more button on his shirt. Seeing him examining the menu in a relaxed posture felt a bit strange to Jeong-in.

Shortly after, a waitress approached with a bright smile, asking if they were ready to order. Chase, still not taking his eyes off the menu, said,

“One cheeseburger, one steak sandwich with bacon and eggs added, two orders of fries, a chocolate milkshake, and a cola, please.”

Jeong-in looked at Chase with puzzled eyes and asked,

“Is someone else coming?”

“No.”

Chase replied with a casual smile.

“What do you want to eat?”

“I already had dinner. I’ll just have an iced tea.”

“And one iced tea, please.”

After the waitress confirmed the order and left, Chase put down the menu and said,

“Eat something. You’re too skinny.”

Jeong-in, who had always been self-conscious about his thin build, frowned deeply.

“How would you know that?”

“I picked you up, remember?”

Thinking back, Chase had indeed lifted Jeong-in like luggage to place him on the sledge during training a few days ago.

“You were like a feather. I wonder if your bones have holes in them like a bird’s.”

Jeong-in’s expression instantly hardened, clearly displeased. Being called light or skinny would never feel like a compliment to a guy. To make matters worse, Chase was smiling brightly at Jeong-in’s furrowed brow.

“But without your glasses, I can see all your expressions clearly.”

“Just give me back my book.”

Jeong-in spoke in a sulky voice, regretting not wearing his glasses. Chase seemed to have gotten comfortable with him in just a few days.

“You think I’d carry that around? I’ve hidden it away safely.”

“What? Then why did you ask for my address?”

“I needed someone to eat with.”

Jeong-in’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“That’s ridiculous. There must be countless people who would come running even in their sleep if you asked them to eat with you.”

Chase just lightly shrugged his shoulders, as if that meant nothing to him. Then he focused on the freshly served cheeseburger. He pressed the thick homemade burger with his palm to reduce its volume before taking a big bite.

Jeong-in sipped his iced tea through a straw, watching the handsome white guy’s eating show. He ate an enormous amount, and made it look delicious too. In Korea, grandmothers would have loved his hearty eating style, calling it auspicious.

Maybe he eats a lot because he’s an athlete. Well, maintaining that physique would require eating plenty.

“So, about the book? When will you return it?”

“Hmm, I don’t know.”

Chase shrugged once more, answering with a shameless attitude.

“Maybe when you stop disliking me?”

“…”

Jeong-in remained silent for a while. He couldn’t say he didn’t dislike Chase. Nor could he explain why he disliked him.

The reason Jeong-in disliked Chase Prescott wasn’t because he was promiscuous, or because he was the quarterback, or because he drove around in a swaggering convertible.

He confused Jeong-in. Whenever Chase was near, Jeong-in’s eyes kept wandering to him, his attention diverted. He felt pathetic and ridiculous for unconsciously seeking Chase out against his own will.

He sometimes had mean, envious thoughts about those who occupied positions beside Chase. Jeong-in didn’t like this aspect of himself.

Jeong-in couldn’t afford to focus his energy elsewhere. He couldn’t risk ruining his plans and goals for such trivial reasons.

To survive in this foreign land without money or connections, he had to excel beyond others. He needed definite achievements that could be proven with numbers, like grades, or degrees from prestigious universities. Harvard, for instance.

Suddenly, he remembered that Chase was also aiming for Harvard, just like him. Jeong-in naturally changed the subject.

“By the way, I heard you’re applying to Harvard?”

“…Who told you that?”

“Your father.”

Chase’s face, who had just finished his cheeseburger and was pulling the sandwich plate toward him, momentarily froze. A bitter smile spread across his lips.

“That’s my father’s ambition.”

“I heard your grades are good enough.”

“You seem to have talked a lot with my father? Speaking of which, how did you end up leaving your bag behind?”

To talk about leaving that bag would mean mentioning Vivian Sinclair and Chase’s romantic encounter on the balcony. He didn’t want to talk about that. No, even recalling it was unpleasant.

“Just… that kind of party was unfamiliar to me. I was confused.”

“You must have been quite flustered? Given the contents of that book.”

Jeong-in sighed heavily as if to say ‘don’t even mention it.’

“Tell me about it. I wanted to become an infinitesimal.”

Only after saying it did Jeong-in realize what he had said, and his shoulders twitched. As the conversation became comfortable, he unconsciously fell into the habit of talking as he would with his nerd friends. A math term—this was too much.

But something unexpected happened.

“Infinitesimal? Haha, you mean you wanted to disappear?”

“…You know what that is?”

Infinitesimal was a concept typically covered in college-level calculus. Of course Jeong-in knew it, but he hadn’t expected Chase to know it.

“I think we briefly touched on it when learning about limits.”

Perhaps Justin’s hypothesis that the lower of Chase’s two brains had more wrinkles was wrong.

“Prescott. What math class are you taking?”

“AP Statistics.”

“What?”

He wasn’t just a muscle head. At the very least, he was a muscle head who was good at math. AP wasn’t a class one could just take because they wanted to. Jeong-in began to think he might need to revise some of his preconceptions about Chase.

Chase asked casually while putting a french fry in his mouth,

“It’s Mr. Keller’s class, do you know him?”

“…I took it last year.”

“Impressive, kid.”

“What? Kid?”

Jeong-in’s eyebrows shot up. Asians were often subjected to racially insensitive comments about looking young. His defensive attitude emerged instinctively.

“Sophomores are kids, aren’t they?”

“Oh… that’s what you meant?”

Jeong-in felt momentarily embarrassed by Chase’s nonchalant answer. Along with self-reproach for his oversensitive reaction, he realized how strong his victim mentality was, and suddenly became sullen.

Chase, observing Jeong-in’s reaction, snickered.

“You’re like Marimo.”

“…What’s that?”

“It’s something my little cousin had. It’s like a round moss that lives in water.”

Having done a science project using moss last year, Jeong-in knew quite a bit about the ecology of bryophytes. But the name “Marimo” was unfamiliar to him.

He couldn’t understand why Chase was comparing him to some kind of moss. When Jeong-in raised his eyebrows as if needing further explanation, Chase continued,

“My six-year-old cousin believed the moss had feelings and would float when excited and sink when sad. You just sank when you got sulky.”

“I did not!”

“Oh, now you’re floating again.”

They had seemed like two people with nothing in common. Jeong-in still thought Chase belonged to a different world than his own, but strangely, the conversation between them never stopped. Their talk continued, one topic leading to another, until Chase finished his meal.

As if it were the most natural thing, Chase took the bill and paid for the entire meal, including Jeong-in’s iced tea, with his card without any discussion. While the card terminal was processing, Jeong-in carefully spoke up.

“How much was mine? I’ll send it to you on Cash App.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Chase whipped his head around. His downward gaze was somewhat fierce. He seemed genuinely offended.

“How much of a jerk do you think I am? You think after bringing you here on my own, I can’t buy you a glass of iced tea?”

Jeong-in immediately felt he’d made a mistake. He flinched, hunched his shoulders, and mumbled a small “Sorry.”

Chase stared at Jeong-in quietly, then let out a deep sigh.

“…I’m sorry for getting angry.”

He apologized readily in a softer, more relaxed voice, and the two returned to his car.

The convertible started smoothly and began speeding down the road toward Jeong-in’s neighborhood.

Feeling refreshed in the cool night air, Jeong-in lowered his window. The refreshing breeze tousled his hair. Looking to the side, he saw Chase’s golden hair was also disheveled by the wind. Even in disarray, he had his own kind of charm.

“Want me to roll up the window?”

Chase asked, and Jeong-in shook his head, answering, “It’s fine.” Then, enjoying the open sky, he let out a small exclamation.

“Ah, what if I get used to a car like this?”

“Then you’ll be used to it.”

At his nonchalant answer, Jeong-in closed his mouth and looked at the passing scenery. This situation—Chase picking him up from home, having dinner together, and taking him back home—could easily be mistaken for a perfect date by anyone watching. Jeong-in kept these thoughts to himself as he rested his chin on his arm propped against the window frame.

Before long, the car arrived in front of Jeong-in’s house. As Jeong-in unfastened his seatbelt and prepared to get out, Chase said,

“Thanks for having dinner with me.”

“Well… it was nothing.”

“Sleep well, Jayrin.”

Jeong-in, who had been awkward about the thank you, suddenly changed his expression and glared at Chase.

“Stop calling me that on purpose when you know my name!”

“Then stop reacting so amusingly. And…”

The smile faded a bit from Chase’s face. He looked at Jeong-in with a more serious expression and continued,

“Don’t hate me too much.”

Jeong-in momentarily blanked at his words. Not knowing how to respond, he hesitated, his lips moving slightly.

“…Drive safely.”

“Go inside.”

“After I see you leave.”

Chase quietly nodded, and his convertible smoothly pulled away. Jeong-in watched as his car receded into the distance, turning toward his house only after the taillights had completely disappeared into the darkness.