7MoH 1.3

>>Hate Chase Club

1. Brilliant blonde hair? Fake! That color can’t possibly be natural. Definitely dyed at some upscale salon. Even if it were real, it’s still a problem. Blonde hair and blue eyes? How boring. Makes me yawn.

2. Promiscuous. Flirting with Harper Shaw last week, and then creating a strange atmosphere with Chloe Fairchild a few days ago. What about his official girlfriend Vivian Sinclair? An STD clinic visit is urgently needed! He probably has an STD with parasites growing and eating away at his brain.

3. Must have face blindness. Maybe it’s because of those parasites?

4. Suspiciously fit. Drug testing needed ASAP. They say steroids make your two nuts shrink. Is that true?

5. Spring Dance King and quarterback? Ugh. Talk about cliché. He probably bought the quarterback position with money.

6. Drives around in a pretentious convertible. A Porsche, no less! Must have terrible fuel efficiency. Can definitely be called a major environmental polluter. #ApologizeToPolarBears

7. Chase Prescott’s sausage is probably as small as a vestigial organ. Should be perfectly balanced with his shrunken nuts due to steroids.

The sound of a powerful engine roared in the distance as Jeong-in looked out the window. He could see the silver Porsche’s convertible top automatically folding and disappearing into the back of the car.

Chase Prescott was in the driver’s seat, and a girl with ginger-red hair sat in the passenger seat. The silver convertible sports car gleamed in the afternoon sunlight as it roared out of the parking lot.

“I really hate him…”

As Jeong-in muttered, Justin also looked out the window. Watching the Porsche drive away and the red hair of the passenger fluttering in the wind, he said sarcastically,

“Red hair? Today it’s Vivian Sinclair.”

Jeong-in turned away. But as if he had left something behind, his gaze was drawn back to the window. There was nothing left in the place where even the dust had settled.

“Good work everyone. Solve these five problems at home, take pictures, and upload them to WhatsApp.”

At Rajesh’s words, the club members packed up and dispersed. Jeong-in slung his bag over his shoulder and walked toward where her bicycle was parked.

The school bus was only available for students who lived more than 3 miles from school, so Jeong-in commuted by bicycle every day. He didn’t mind cycling. In fact, he quite enjoyed the freedom of pedaling and feeling the breeze.

Bellacove, true to its name meaning “beautiful cove,” was a small coastal city in California. With its mild climate year-round, temperatures rarely drop below 50 degrees Fahrenheit (10 degrees Celsius) even in December, and it hardly ever rained. Slender palm trees lined the streets, and climbing the hills revealed views of the Pacific Ocean’s blue waves.

Bellevue Boulevard served as the boundary—the beachside area was filled with wealthy people’s homes and vacation houses, while Jeong-in lived on the opposite side in a neighborhood called Baywood.

At the end of Willow Street, on a hillside where small houses were clustered together, stood the modest two-story house where Jeong-in lived with his mother.

The wooden house with its warm colors of aged brick, terra cotta, beige, and sage green might look ordinary at first glance, but inside was a small world filled with Jeong-in and his mother’s memories.

He carelessly parked his bicycle in front of the small shed next to the house and entered. The old wooden floor creaked, welcoming him. The house was quiet as his mother was out working.

After a refreshing shower, Jeong-in jumped into bed with his wet hair wrapped in a towel. Lying on the bouncing bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, he reached for his phone.

Although he never posted photos, Jeong-in did have an Instagram account: @lim_fx_J, an ID that expressed his name as a limit and function.

There was only one reason he accessed this inactive account. As soon as his fingertip touched the search bar, the ID he had searched for last time appeared.

[@chase.a.prescott]

Chase Prescott’s account had no selfies, only photos taken by others. Despite not having showy or boastful pictures, his account revealed a lot about him. If this world were a theater stage, he would definitely be the main character.

There were no new photos uploaded in the past day, so Jeong-in clicked on his favorite post. It was a photo of him at the stadium, just having removed his head gear, showing his white teeth in a refreshing smile.

His blue eyes, seemingly holding the color of water, appeared to be looking at him. But Jeong-in knew. The chance of Chase Prescott smiling at him like this would never happen in his lifetime.

Jeong-in rolled over and buried his face deep in his pillow.

“…I really hate him.”

* * *

At exactly 6 o’clock. As soon as the alarm sounded, Jeong-in rubbed his eyes and got out of bed. Outside the window, where the bluish dawn light lingered, a red glow was slowly rising.

After finishing his preparations for school, he slung his bag over his shoulder and went downstairs. In the kitchen, he saw his mother Suzy’s back, busy preparing something. Her long hair was roughly gathered and secured with a large clip, but a few loose strands had fallen out and were visibly damp.

“Mom, you didn’t dry your hair again? I keep telling you, that’s how you get hair loss.”

Suzy turned around and smiled at Jeong-in before turning back to the counter. Watching his mother transfer the freshly cut ingredients into a mixing bowl, Jeong-in tilted his head curiously.

Usually, the two rarely had proper breakfasts. Almost every day, Jeong-in would have a glass of soy milk or make do with a Pop-Tart, and Suzy would have yogurt with granola or a latte bought from a café on her way to work.

“Mom, what are you doing?”

“Justin’s not coming to school today, right? I’m making you a sandwich to take.”

“Oh.”

As her mother said, today was a day Justin wouldn’t be at school. Since Jeong-in didn’t have the courage to eat alone in the cafeteria, he had planned to just grab an energy bar from a vending machine.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.”

Suzy knew it too. Without Justin, Jeong-in had no friends to eat with.

While Jeong-in apologized for causing his mother the trouble of preparing food, Suzy was the one who wanted to apologize. If it weren’t for her, Jeong-in wouldn’t have to endure such loneliness in this foreign land.

Suzy mashed hard-boiled eggs and mixed them with pepper, salt, and mayonnaise, then added cucumber and apple. Egg salad sandwiches were one of Jeong-in’s favorite foods, so whenever Suzy needed to pack a lunch, she always made this.

As she generously spread the salad on the bread, Suzy asked,

“What did you say today was?”

“Qingming Festival.”

“Right. I heard many people in mainland China don’t celebrate it anymore these days, but the Wong family is impressive.”

Qingming Festival is a traditional Chinese holiday, similar to a memorial service to honor ancestors.

“Even after closing the restaurant yesterday, they were still making ritual food. They said they’re taking it with them today. Thanks to that, I got a delicious dinner.”

Suzy ran a small nail salon called “Suzy Nails” in the local shopping center, “Cove Mall.” On the second floor of the same mall was the Chinese restaurant run by Justin Wong’s parents.

The few Asians in this neighborhood were a comfort to each other. The Chinese immigrant community in particular had a special bond, and the Wongs always firmly told their son Justin not to bring home any girl who wasn’t of Chinese descent.

Whenever they said this, Justin would smile bitterly and say they needn’t worry because he wasn’t going to bring any girl home, Chinese or not.

While they were talking, Suzy finished the sandwich, cutting off the crusts that Jeong-in disliked. She then placed the neatly arranged sandwich on wax paper and carefully wrapped it.

“Rachel was saying that Spring Fling is next week.”

Rachel Wong was Justin’s mother’s name.

At Suzy’s words, Jeong-in nodded with an exhausted expression, as if even hearing about it drained his energy.

American schools had too many dance parties. Spring Fling, Prom, Homecoming Dance, plus Halloween events and Christmas parties.

“People here must be possessed by ghosts who died unable to dance.”

Suzy burst into laughter at Jeong-in’s comment, which sounded like it came from someone much older.

“What about a tuxedo? Won’t you rent one?”

“Ugh, absolutely not. Dance parties are boring. It’s where immature kids go to show off. It’s full of idiots anyway.”

“How about giving those idiots a chance for once?”

Jeong-in took the sandwich Suzy offered and shook his head firmly.

“Do you want to eat one for breakfast?”

“I’m fine. I’ll go ahead, Mom.”

“Okay. Love you, son!”

“Me too!”

With his bag on his shoulder, Jeong-in grabbed a Pop-Tart from the cabinet and headed out the door. Though it was just sugary junk food that kids would like with almost no nutritional value, it was enough to conveniently provide the calories he needed.

Jeong-in leisurely pedaled his bicycle down Willow Street with the Pop-Tart in one hand. Just as he turned onto Palm Grove Drive and took a bite, a car zoomed past him.

“Ahhh!”

Startled, Jeong-in quickly stopped his bicycle, causing his barely-bitten breakfast to fall to the ground and shatter miserably.

Looking up with an annoyed expression, he saw a silver sports car rapidly becoming smaller in the distance. It was Chase Prescott’s car.

* * *

Unlike regular classes that lasted 40 to 50 minutes, AP subject classes were about twice as long. After sitting through two 90-minute lectures, Jeong-in felt completely drained.

Going against the stream of students heading in groups toward the cafeteria, Jeong-in went outside the building.

This school had two fields—one used for track and field events, and the other was Family Stadium where football games were held.

Under the bleachers of Family Stadium, there was a hidden space. The stands above blocked the sunlight, making it shady and secluded—perfect for eating lunch alone.

Jeong-in went under the outdoor bleachers, looking for a good spot. Large cement pillars were scattered throughout, and discarded plastic cups and snack wrappers were left abandoned here and there.

He sat on the ground with his back against one of the large pillars and took out the lunch his mom had packed. The sandwich was delicious as always. The bread was slightly moist, but he actually preferred that soft texture.

However, his quiet and peaceful lunch time was interrupted by unexpected, unwelcome visitors.

As footsteps approached, Jeong-in instinctively held his breath and turned his head to look behind the pillar. Into the dark shade beneath the stands came a female student in a cheerleader outfit, holding Chase Prescott’s arm.

From Jeong-in’s position, he could only see the girl from behind. Her skin, exposed below the short skirt, had a healthy glow, and her half-tied, silky brown hair looked luscious.

Could they possibly be planning to do something here? Wasn’t Chase Prescott officially dating Vivian Sinclair?

While Jeong-in was thinking this, a trembling voice rang out.

“Chase, I like you.”

Jeong-in quietly observed Chase’s expression as he received the cheerleader’s confession. His face showed a mixture of sympathy, gratitude, and regret.

Chase Prescott received confessions as routinely as eating meals. While some people carefully conveyed their feelings in secretive places like this, others boldly confessed in public with everyone watching.

Thanks to this, Jeong-in had seen that expression of his many times—the one he made when rejecting someone. Gentle but firm, leaving no room for further hope.

She’s going to be rejected.

Jeong-in felt his chest tighten as if he were the one confessing, and he let out a painful sigh.

Sure enough, after a brief pause, Chase spoke in a low voice.

“Michaela, you’re really pretty and smart. But I…”

Michaela nodded, cutting off Chase’s words.

“I know! You have Vivian. I know that. But… I couldn’t stand not telling you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No. It’s my fault for making you uncomfortable when I already knew your situation. I’m sorry. And… thank you, Chase.”

Jeong-in’s lips twisted like his distorted feelings.

What an impressive ability. Without saying much, Chase Prescott made the other person do all the emotional work, even getting apologies and thanks in return.

“I know I might face consequences from Vivian, but I just had to tell you once.”

“Michaela. You’ll meet someone better.”

“Does such a person even exist in this world?”

At Michaela’s resigned voice, Jeong-in found himself nodding unconsciously. Honestly, objectively speaking, it wouldn’t be easy to find a guy with better qualities than Chase Prescott.

“Someone might misunderstand if we leave together. You go first, Michaela.”

“Chase, you’re… really the best.”

Michaela stared at Chase for a moment, then as if unable to hold back, she stood on tiptoe, quickly kissed his cheek, and ran out toward the field.

And so another little drama came to an end. Having finished watching, Jeong-in silently waited for Chase Prescott to leave. Then, an unexpected voice resonated through the space.

“You little rat. If you heard everything, why don’t you just come out?”

Jeong-in’s body trembled.

“Yes, you. I can see your shirt hem.”

Jeong-in hurriedly pulled in the hem of his shirt that had been scattered on the ground. Chase’s low laughter spread gently.

“I saw that too.”

Jeong-in stood up with a face full of dismay. Then, with hesitant steps, he emerged from behind the pillar.

Chase was looking at him with his head tilted at an angle. It was as if he had known of his presence from the beginning. Looking down at him with his characteristically calm expression, he spoke in a leisurely tone.

“You didn’t hear anything. Got it?”

“…I wasn’t planning to say anything.”

“Good. That’s how it should be.”

Chase nodded, smiling as if satisfied. Just as he was about to turn away, an unexpected question burst out from Jeong-in. Even he didn’t know what made him ask it.

“Is it real?”

Chase stopped in his tracks and turned back, his expression and eyes asking the question for him.

“You dating Vivian Sinclair. Is it real?”

Chase stared at Jeong-in for a moment, then slowly walked closer. His presence made Jeong-in’s heart beat faster as he approached. When he didn’t speak for a while, the tension made his throat feel like it was burning up.

“Who told you that?”

Chase asked with a relaxed smile, and Jeong-in stumbled over his words in momentary confusion.

“Y-you did. Just now…”

“Really? I said that?”

Chase raised one corner of his mouth in a smile.

Thrown off by his suspiciously casual attitude, Jeong-in finally rolled his eyes and tried to recall what he had actually said. It was Michaela who first mentioned the relationship with Vivian, and Chase had neither confirmed nor denied it.

A small “Ah” of realization escaped from Jeong-in.

“That’s it exactly.”

Chase smiled as if praising him for getting the right answer, then looked down at the sandwich in Jeong-in’s hand.

“Enjoy your meal.”

The way he maintained his image without a single flaw while easily using others as shields to clear up situations was suspiciously natural and skillful. Perhaps Chase Prescott wasn’t the kind and gentle person everyone thought he was, but rather someone calculating and cold.

What an unexpected dark side.

“…Damn.”

Somehow, it made him even more attractive.