Mint Is Pure Love - Chapter 17

It all happened so naturally—so casually—that I think I lost my words for a moment.

The teacher, picking at his ear like it was itchy, rushed everyone to make a decision.

“Do it like Cha Seokyung over there… Hurry up and figure it out yourselves. If you don’t turn anything in, I’m marking you absent for my entire class.”

I lowered my voice and asked the person who had confidently claimed the seat beside me.

“Why are you sitting here?”

“Any reason I shouldn’t?”

“It’s not about reasons, it’s just—”

I had a lot to say, but saying it all out loud felt unnecessary. He already knew, didn’t he? Seokyung glanced at me and asked, almost as if he were daring me.

“Is there someone else you’d rather be grouped with?”

It was a question, but the tone was more like, “As if there would be.”

I hesitated for a moment.

I hadn’t realized it before, but something about Seokyung made me uncomfortable now. Maybe because I’d been deliberately avoiding him. Or maybe it was all the things I’d heard—conversations I told myself I’d forget, but never really did. The truth was, I replayed that conversation from the other day every single night before bed.

That’s why this felt awkward. Because deep down, I knew I’d lied to him. Not directly, maybe, but close enough. My eyes drifted naturally to the boy in the other row, the one doodling in his notebook.

Maybe it’d be easier to team up with that art kid. Maybe he was nicer than I thought. People who enjoy being alone tend to have that vibe sometimes.

While I was still thinking it over, Seokyung let out a soft sigh, like he couldn’t believe what I was considering. Then, without warning, he turned to the art kid.

“Hey, you. Drawing over there. Want to be in a group with Ji Yeonseo?”

The boy’s eyes behind his glasses wobbled in panic, and his voice shot out in pure rejection.

“N-No! Why would I want that?!”

“Then how about being in a group with me?”

The boy looked like he didn’t know what to do with his face anymore. He sprang out of his seat and made a beeline for two other students sitting by the window. Just like that, the three of them formed a group.

“See?” Seokyung said.

“…”

“There’s no one who wants to team up with me or with you. So don’t tell me to go solo. I’m new here—I don’t know this neighborhood at all. And you’re the only person in this whole classroom I even recognize.”

His gaze met mine again—subtle, but sharp. Like someone pushing guilt with a soft hand.

Once the groups were sorted, the world geography teacher, true to his eccentric reputation, ended class thirty-five minutes early. Said we should go out and start researching.

Seokyung and I grabbed our bags and headed out of school, not really walking together, but close enough. We stood at the school gate, silent for a moment.

“So, where do we go?”

His voice made me look up at him. His eyes met mine steadily, like he was waiting for my answer and would follow whatever I said. My chest gave a small, odd thud.

“…I mean, I’ll give you some suggestions, and we can just go separately—”

“That’s kind of harsh.”

“Huh?”

His tone softened. He turned his eyes away slightly, and for a second, he looked almost… lonely.

“I get a scholarship for my grades,” he said. “I have to keep near-perfect attendance, grades, and conduct to keep it.”

It caught me off guard. I suddenly remembered him saying he lived with his brother and delivered newspapers.

“Even the small assignments—I need to do them properly. I can’t afford to mess up. And I don’t know my way around here. Can’t you help?”

What struck me was how he said it. Not like he was begging for help, but like he was offering me a chance to help him.

I stared up at him for a second. His gaze pierced mine as he added,

“Someone told me… I shouldn’t be too harsh.”

“…”

“So, will you help or not?”

Cruel girl. Cold-blooded. Heartless. The kind of person who takes advantage of others’ kindness. Seokyung probably didn’t even realize what kind of person I was supposed to be.

“…Fine.”

But I knew the truth—more than anyone else. I wasn’t that kind of person. Maybe a little rude, maybe not the friendliest, but not heartless. Not like they said.

“But listen—just for three days. While we’re doing the project, let’s be friends.”

“What?”

Big deal, right? I didn’t want to make it into something. But still, I called it three days and I called it friendship, because…

“If we’re all stiff and awkward, it’s just going to be annoying. So let’s just act like we’ve been friends for a while. No formalities, no polite talk, no overthinking. Just chill. Just for three days.”

That one day—playing badminton, eating tteokbokki—had stuck with me. Like an itch I kept scratching.

Spilling juice, laughing too loud, watching my stepmom beam at the lie that I was doing great in school—it had all been so… warm. I hadn’t realized how much I missed simple moments like that.

So this? This was me drawing a line for myself. Three days, that’s it. Then back to no expectations. Nothing heavy. Just let it pass, like the teacher said things should at our age.

Seokyung studied me quietly. His dark eyes, always so clean-cut, wavered slightly like the day he offered to split tteokbokki.

I think I understood him now.

“Alright,” he said simply.

I grinned and added a warning.

“But you have to follow wherever I say and take the pictures I tell you to. Got it? This neighborhood is my turf.”

It came out a little weird at the end, but still—I wasn’t planning on letting him get cocky. I expected him to argue, but he just nodded.

“Lead the way.”

As I took the first step, Seokyung caught up beside me and asked quietly,

“So, how long have we been friends?”

“What?”

“If we’re pretending to be longtime friends, how long’s it been?”

Smartass. He was surprisingly detail-oriented. Maybe that’s why he did so well in school.

I remembered a manga I read the other day. The characters had been friends for ten years—something that felt so far out of reach for someone like me.

“…Let’s say ten years.”

“I lived in the States until I was fifteen. So that means we met in Boston? Can I speak English, then?”

Oh god. I stopped in my tracks and glared up at him—he was at least a head taller than me. This guy had zero sense.

“Let’s just say we met in Seoul. Korean only, okay?”

I clicked my tongue and walked off. I could’ve sworn I saw him smile.

We took the local bus and headed to Hohaeng-dong Rodeo Street. Like most areas around schools, there weren’t any real landmarks unless you went somewhere busier. So here we were.

After getting off the bus, we bought a disposable camera at a nearby store. I led Seokyung up to the second floor of Taepyeong Mall.

“Welcome!”

The bell above the door jingled as we entered, and the part-timer greeted us warmly. A soft ballad played in the background.

The place was nearly empty—too early for the after-school crowd. Rococo-style floral sofas, terrace-like windows, cozy atmosphere.

I glanced around and stood at the counter, scanning the menu. The part-timer kept sneaking glances at Seokyung.

“I’ll have one fruit bingsoo and a strawberry juice. You?”

He stared at the menu like it was all too much.

“…Iced peppermint tea.”

“One of those too, please. Oh, and the toast and whipped cream here—refills are free, right?”

As I finished ordering, Seokyung casually pulled out his wallet like it was the most natural thing. He’d already paid for the camera earlier. I couldn’t let him cover this too.

As he handed over the money, I turned my head slightly and whispered,

“This one’s on me. We’re splitting.”

His brows furrowed. He looked genuinely puzzled.

“Why would we do that?”

“What?”

He shook his head slightly and frowned—like the word itself was offensive.

“I’ll just pay.”

You deliver newspapers at dawn. Live with your brother. Get scholarship money.

It’s not pity—it’s just, I get my allowance handed to me. I didn’t want to casually spend the money he worked hard to earn.

Maybe he could sense that, because he sighed and said, almost annoyed,

“It’s my pocket money. And… come on, we’ve been friends for ten years.”

It was obviously a joke, but somehow when he said it, it sounded kind of real. Then he looked around suspiciously.

“Are you sure this place is even a landmark?”

“Yeah. Everyone in Hampyeong-gu hangs out in Hohaeng Rodeo. Especially here.”

We headed for the swings lined up by the window. I dropped my bag and sat down, while Seokyung looked at me like I’d lost it.

“Why are we sitting on these swing things when there are normal seats?”

Ugh.

“When you go see the Statue of Liberty, don’t you head for the top of the pedestal? And when you go to Paris, don’t you want a picture from the best angle of the Eiffel Tower? It’s the same here.”

Everyone knows the window swings are the signature of this place. Okay, sure, I always kind of wanted to sit here—but that’s beside the point.

He hesitated, then finally dropped his bag and sat down next to me when I patted the seat.

I hadn’t realized how close it would be until he sat down. His big frame made the space feel even tighter. Our arms brushed. His skin was firm, cool. So unlike mine. The contact made me weirdly self-conscious.

“Here’s your bingsoo, strawberry juice, and peppermint tea~”

The tray landed on the table in front of us. The part-timer, with a cute headband holding back her long hair, smiled sweetly—mostly at Seokyung.

“The toast and whipped cream are unlimited refills. Just bring the tray when you’re done!”

Without even glancing at her, Seokyung pushed the juice and spoon toward me and slid the bingsoo closer.

As I reached for the spoon and he picked up his drink, our arms brushed again.

He’s left-handed? Why didn’t I notice that when we were eating tteokbokki?

As I turned that little discovery over in my head, our elbows bumped again. Smooth, firm, and cool muscles brushing past mine. I took a bite of bingsoo, he set down his drink. Again. And again.

…Should’ve sat across from him.

I gave up on the bingsoo spoon and slurped my strawberry juice instead. In the reflection of the window, my face looked about as red as the drink.