A Terrible Senior - Chapter 4

2023.01.13.

Do-han stopped his car in front of a house surrounded by tall walls. He stepped out, opened the passenger door, and helped Hye-ri, who was a bit unsteady, out of the car. With a neutral expression, he held her arm to keep her steady.

“You should go to the hospital.”

“Going won’t help, and you know it. I’ll be fine after some rest.”

As they walked through the garden and into the living room, Do-han supported her. Inside, her father, Kyung-chul, who had been sitting on the sofa, sprang up when he saw them.

“Hye-ri! Did you faint again?”

“No, Dad, I just felt a little dizzy.”

With a worried look, Kyung-chul guided her to the sofa, quickly fetching a glass of water and medication, which he placed in her hand.

“You were doing fine for a while. Did something happen at school?”

“I just suddenly couldn’t breathe. You know it happens sometimes.”

After taking her medication, Hye-ri set the cup on the table. Her father sat beside her, gripping her hand tightly. Although she had been treating her panic disorder since childhood, full recovery had remained elusive. Just when she seemed better, a sudden episode could occur anywhere, leaving her father in a constant state of worry since he couldn’t be with her daily.
“I couldn’t make it home alone, so I asked oppa for help,” she said, casting an apologetic look at Do-han.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about; that’s why I got you a car and driver. Don’t worry about that.”

Hye-ri glanced at Do-han, feeling guilty that her father had kept him waiting.

“Dad, oppa came all this way—why don’t you two talk for a bit?”
Finally, Kyung-chul turned to Do-han.

“Why are you just standing there? Have a seat.”

“I have class.”

Do-han intended to leave after a quick greeting, not seeing himself close enough to sit and chat. But Kyung-chul seemed to have more to say.

“From now on, bring Hye-ri home after her classes.”

“Dad, really, I’m fine,” Hye-ri interjected, trying to stop him. After relying on Do-han’s rides her entire first year, she had convinced her father she could manage alone, only to have the situation crop up again.

“Fine? What if something happens to you?”

Hye-ri sighed, knowing her father wouldn’t budge on this. She realized she’d have to compromise.

“Alright, just for a week, okay?” she said.

Finally, Kyung-chul nodded, then turned to Do-han, looking at him sharply.

“This would be easier if you’d just live here. Why make it complicated?”

“Dad, stop. Oppa, you should go. Thanks for today,” Hye-ri said, frowning at her father.

Do-han watched their interaction in silence, then turned to leave. As he walked to the door, he could hear their conversation behind him.

“Dad, you’re making me feel worse.”

“I’m annoyed because if he lived here, he could drive my precious daughter to school every day.”

“Oppa already left his university to transfer here because of me. I’m already grateful.”

“What’s there to be grateful for? Think of everything he owes you…”

At Kyung-chul’s raised voice, Do-han paused, his hand on the door.

Seeing him still by the door, Kyung-chul’s voice grew louder, as if he wanted Do-han to hear.

“That guy should feel indebted to you his whole life.”

“Dad…”

Hye-ri tried to calm him down, but it didn’t work.

“To me, he’ll always be just a hypocrite.”

Do-han closed his eyes briefly, opened the door, and stepped outside. Once he got into his car, he finally felt like he could breathe again.

A lifetime of repaying a debt.

It wasn’t untrue, but he couldn’t help but think that Kyung-chul was the last person who should be saying it. A crooked smile slipped onto his face.

Monday, 9 AM.

Sarang arrived early to class and took a seat at the front. When Do-han still hadn’t arrived as time passed, she moved to the back row so he’d be able to find her easily. She thought about calling him but decided against it, unsure if she was comfortable enough to call yet. Not wanting to bother him over something trivial, she fiddled with her phone until class started.

Thankfully, as the professor was taking attendance, Do-han slipped in through the back door. When he sat beside her, Sarang noticed the faint smell of alcohol, as though he’d been drinking until late. He looked exhausted, his face worn. Even though this was a course he was retaking, she seemed more concerned about his grades than he did. If he were a younger classmate, she’d have scolded him, but she didn’t feel comfortable nagging a senior six years her senior.

Sighing quietly, she perked up when the professor’s voice caught her attention.

“The weather’s been beautiful lately, with flowers blooming and spring rain falling. So, I’m assigning your first project.”
The students groaned and murmured, but the professor continued undeterred.

“You’ll see that it’s not really an assignment—it’s just an opportunity to have fun. All you need to do is go on a date with the partner you were assigned last class.”

At the word “date,” Sarang froze, dropping her pen in surprise. She knew the course was called Love and Marriage, but she hadn’t expected such a direct assignment.

Sarang stole a glance at Do-han. Her heart was pounding so loudly she could barely think, while he sat there calmly, eyes closed as if he didn’t have a care in the world. She wasn’t sure what she had expected, but a sense of disappointment washed over her.

“You and your partner will need to plan a date, carry it out, and write a report on what went well and what could be improved. This assignment will be given monthly, in March, April, May, and June. Just as the weather changes, people’s feelings change too. Some days you’ll want to go here, and on others, you’ll want to do that. Over time, your feelings toward your partner might evolve as well. There’s a reason this course has a reputation for creating couples,” the professor announced.

Same-gender pairs groaned in disappointment, while those who had discreetly chosen their partners grinned quietly. Sarang felt a mix of excitement and concern. She was thrilled at the thought of a one-on-one “date” with Do-han, but she couldn’t help doubting his commitment. He hardly made it to class on time; would he really put effort into this assignment? She half-wondered if she’d end up doing the date activities alone.
Shaking her head, she looked at Do-han, still with his eyes closed, and sighed.

After class, Do-han stopped by the vending machine in the hallway and bought a can of coffee. He glanced over at Sarang without retrieving his change.

“What do you want to drink?” he asked.

“The same, please.”

They each took a can of coffee and sat on the bench next to the machine. The cold coffee seemed to clear Do-han’s head. A friend from his previous university had kept him out drinking late the night before, so he hadn’t gotten home until early. He’d slept right through his alarm that morning, and only the brightness of his room had jolted him awake. He’d rushed out, barely making it to class.

As he finished his coffee and tossed the empty can in the trash, he turned to Sarang with a small frown.

“You know, I didn’t take you for someone so self-centered.”
Sarang, startled by the sudden comment, leaned back as he leaned in close, looking her straight in the eye.

“Wh-what did I…?”

“Aren’t you at least curious about whether I’m coming to class? We’re not total strangers, but you didn’t even try calling me.”
Sarang wanted to protest but couldn’t. She’d actually picked up her phone several times, and she had even chosen a seat in the back so he’d spot her if he was late. She wished she could explain, but she held her tongue, afraid he might read her true feelings.

Finally, she stammered, “I… I didn’t know if I was allowed to.”

“What?”

“I didn’t call because I wasn’t sure if I should.”

Do-han laughed in disbelief.

“If you weren’t supposed to, why would I give you my number? It was so you could call in situations like that.”

“Alright, I’ll call next time,” she replied.

“Way to make me beg for it,” he muttered, still frowning.

Sarang, trying to ease the tension, spoke up hesitantly.

“Or… I could…”

Curious about what she was going to say, he looked at her expectantly. After hesitating a moment, she continued.

“Would you like me to call you every Monday morning to wake you up?”

“A morning call?”

“Yes. Since you seem to have trouble waking up early, I thought I could call and make sure you’re up.”

Seeing him remain silent, Sarang started to backpedal, worried she’d overstepped.

“Actually, that might be too much… Just ignore what I said—”
“No, I like the idea.”

“What?”

Sarang’s eyes widened, surprised that he’d accepted.

“Even if I turn off my alarm, I’ll still pick up the phone. But it’s going to be a hassle, you know? It’s not just for a day or two.”

“It’s fine. I always wake up early anyway, and I don’t have much to do at that time, so I usually end up cleaning the bathroom or something.”

“…That sounds like something my mother would say.”

For a moment, Do-han’s thoughts drifted to his late mother. She used to wake up at dawn, preparing breakfast and cleaning the house, filling her time while his father was often away overnight. As a child, he thought she was simply diligent, but as he grew older, he realized that it was her way of coping with her loneliness.

“Anyway, thanks. I’ll count on you,” he said.

“Of course.” Sarang, excited about the idea of waking him up every Monday, smiled awkwardly. Here she was, trying to seem mature, and now he was comparing her to his mother. She immediately regretted her earlier words.

“When do you want to work on the assignment?” he asked.

“Huh?”

Surprised by the sudden change of subject, she looked at him in confusion.

“The date assignment. When would be a good time?”

“I thought you were sleeping through class?”

She’d assumed he hadn’t been paying attention since he’d had his eyes closed for much of the lecture. Realizing he’d heard the assignment details, she flushed, embarrassed at how often she’d stolen glances at him. Just imagining if he’d opened his eyes while she was staring made her heart race.

“You really are self-centered, aren’t you?”

His sudden remark made her eyes widen in shock, as though something terrible had happened. He found her reaction unexpectedly adorable, like a startled rabbit, and felt an urge to tease her.

She, on the other hand, was baffled, feeling unfairly judged.
What had she done now to deserve being called self-centered?
While she was stewing in her frustration, Do-han gave her a narrowed, somewhat disappointed look.

“If you saw me sleeping, you should’ve woken me up. Here you are, focused on your own grades, not bothering to wake up your partner or call to check if they’re coming. You’re not what I expected.”

Sarang’s mind went blank. She was too flustered to know how to respond.

“It’s… it’s not like that,” she stammered.

“Do you also see me as just some ‘relentless’ guy?”

“What?”

Her confusion only fueled his bitterness as he pushed the question.

“Is that why you think we shouldn’t get too close?”

His tone was laced with self-mockery, as if to say he didn’t expect her to be any different from others. Alarmed, Sarang blurted out,

“I want to get closer to you!”

Her resolute tone made his eyes widen slightly. It wasn’t a confession of love; she simply wanted to get closer. But somehow, his heart started to race at her words.