Chapter 29
“Ugh, I have to do well in Advertising and Marketing.”
Hyun-su set his cafeteria tray on the table as he spoke.
Across from him, Hye-mi slurped her ramen and said,
“Who doesn’t need to do well in Ad/Marketing? Everyone does.”
“If I don’t get an A in that class, my GPA won’t even reach 3.0.”
“Then you won’t reach 3.0. Good luck with that.”
“Hey…!”
“That’s just reality. More than half the grade in that course comes from the team project, and we all know which team will get first place.”
Hyun-su, Hye-mi, and the other students eating with them all turned to look at one spot.
There sat No-eul, Han-sol, Ji-woo, and Jun-gi, eating together.
No-eul said calmly,
“Yeah, that’s how it turned out.”
Hyun-su whined,
“Come on, share the wealth. If you hog all the A’s, what’s left for me?”
Jun-gi replied,
“Like No-eul’s gonna say, ‘Hmm, I’m guaranteed four A’s, so maybe I’ll tank a class for my friends.’ No way.”
“Why not? Hey, that’s a great idea—let’s set a cap on how many A’s each person can get.”
“Yeah, right.”
Byung-jun chimed in,
“Just accept it. The ones who are good at things are good at everything. The ones who aren’t, aren’t.”
“Speaking of underachievers, are you talking about yourself? Do you even have a 2.5 GPA?”
“That’s why I accepted it. No-eul and I are built differently from the brain up.”
“Our poor Byung-jun… What happened to you? You were supposed to be a decent student in high school. I guess back then you were a big frog in a small pond—didn’t know a genius like No-eul existed.”
Ji-woo, who had been listening quietly, finally said,
“Hey, No-eul’s not some genius.”
No-eul raised an eyebrow.
“Wow, way to cut me down when the mood was nice.”
“No, I mean you work hard. Even for a single PPT slide you think it through a lot. That’s why it turns out so well.”
“I don’t think that much.”
Hyun-su protested,
“Hey, I think too. Just because my results suck doesn’t mean I don’t worry about them.”
Ji-woo waved her chopsticks in the air with a serious expression.
“No. I’m not talking about ‘hmm, what should I write here?’ No-eul checks like thirty references for a single presentation slide.”
“Thirty?”
No-eul wondered how Ji-woo even knew that. They’d worked on a few assignments together, but Ji-woo never seemed especially curious about No-eul’s process.
Ji-woo continued,
“Yeah. She categorizes those references—concept, planning, solutions—organizes everything, and brings the best ideas into her own work.”
“Wow… I gotta respect that.”
No-eul felt strangely unsettled that Ji-woo knew all this.
Sensing the mood was getting a little heavy, No-eul said,
“I’m planning to sell my graduation notes for twenty a copy. No duplicates possible.”
The group burst into chatter—“Sell to us now!” “Don’t we get a classmate discount?”
Amid the noisy scene, Ji-woo, still serious, added,
“When she makes slides, she pays attention to details like where people look first, where their eyes move next, the optimal text amount per slide, the image-to-text ratio—she never does anything half-hearted.”
The others gave little “oohs” of admiration, but No-eul knew they weren’t really interested in how hard she worked.
When it looked like Ji-woo might say more, No-eul quickly cut in,
“Okay, everyone heard that, right? Hyun-su, so stop with that A-cap nonsense. And why do you have such a bad forward-head posture when you hardly even sit at your desk?”
Byung-jun laughed,
“He games all the time, obviously.”
“Still pulling all-nighters?”
“Can’t even tell you. He’s basically spending his life span on gaming.”
The conversation naturally shifted to Hyun-su’s gaming habits.
Then Ji-woo said,
“No-eul’s good at games too. Have you guys played KartRider with her? She’s amazing.”
By now, the others started giving Ji-woo curious looks.
Byung-jun teased,
“What are you, No-eul’s mom? You sound like a parent bragging about their kid—‘Our child’s a genius~.’”
“Yeah, we already know she’s great without you saying it.”
Hye-mi added her own jab.
But Ji-woo held firm.
“I just thought you all assume No-eul gets good grades because she’s smart. She is smart, but that’s not the whole story. Right, Han-sol?”
Han-sol, who had been quietly listening at the end of the table, looked up. “Huh? Oh. Yeah,” he muttered with a vague nod.
Ji-woo’s face flickered with disappointment at his lukewarm response.
No-eul felt a bit embarrassed. It was like she’d been praised all lunch long when no one had really wanted to hear it.
She also worried how it looked, Ji-woo talking so enthusiastically about her. Yet deep down, she wanted Ji-woo to keep going—wanted to know just how much Ji-woo had noticed about her efforts, in detail…
No-eul shook it off and joked,
“There goes my ‘natural genius’ image. Totally ruined thanks to Ji-woo.”
“Han No-eul, the lone wolf.”
Han-sol took a sip of beer.
Ji-woo set down her highball and agreed,
“Seriously. Why are you so busy all the time? Hanging out with us is way more fun.”
Han-sol chewed on dried pollack.
Ji-woo stole a glance at him.
What could she say to make Han-sol see No-eul differently? Praise her personality? Meh. Her skills? Meh. Did Han-sol only care about looks in a guy?
Ji-woo tried,
“Don’t you think No-eul’s T-shirts lately are nice?”
“…Doesn’t she just wear the same thing every day?”
“Exactly. That white T-shirt suits her.”
“…Is there even a way for a white T-shirt to suit or not suit someone?”
“Of course! I’ve seen plenty of people who can’t pull off a plain white tee.”
Han-sol gave a noncommittal nod, then suddenly said,
“Hey, remember when she splattered jjambbong broth on that shirt and we teased her, calling it abstract art?”
“Yeah.”
“That jjambbong place is amazing, right?”
“……”
“They only serve one dish for a reason. Man, I’m craving jjambbong. Can we order Nagasaki jjambbong here?”
“…Sure…”
Ji-woo watched helplessly as Han-sol eagerly pressed the order bell.
If No-eul really liked Han-sol, Ji-woo thought, that would be tragic—someone who only gets excited over jjambbong….
Noticing Ji-woo’s look, Han-sol asked,
“What? You’ve been giving me that pitiful stare lately.”
“No… not at all….”
Ji-woo rallied and said,
“I like people who dress simply and naturally rather than overdressing. What about you?”
“Well, yeah, I guess… Excuse me, can we get more mayo?”
“No-eul’s jeans look great on her too. I thought they were pricey, but she said they’re just from a cheap brand. She’s pretty frugal, come to think of it.”
“Hey, why are you complimenting No-eul so much these days?”
“Huh?”
“If she’s that great, why don’t you just date her?”
“……”
Ji-woo blinked, at a loss for words.
When she didn’t answer, Han-sol gave a small, almost mocking smile—or maybe Ji-woo just imagined the hint of sarcasm.
“Just kidding.”
He raised his glass for a toast.
Ji-woo clinked her glass against his.
Maybe she’d misread his expression, but a faint irritation lingered.
Why had his smile felt that way? It was just a fleeting look, yet it stuck in her mind.
She wasn’t even sure what exactly she was feeling or why.
Still, she tapped her glass to his.
If she’s that great, why don’t you just date her?
Ji-woo had never dated anyone.
When she started college, seeing everyone else in relationships made her wonder, Should I try it too?
But watching her friends, she noticed that after the initial infatuation they soon complained—texting became a chore, boyfriends got annoying, things didn’t make sense. They’d end up saying, “Don’t bother with dating.”
It wasn’t that Ji-woo followed that advice religiously. She just thought, Why bother? You can hang out, drink, and talk with friends—why need something more?
When Ji-woo said that, her friends insisted, “A boyfriend is completely different from a friend,” or “A boyfriend gives you emotional stability.”
But… what does that even mean? She couldn’t grasp it and didn’t feel she needed it. Maybe she couldn’t crave it because she’d never tasted it—like someone offering a strange fruit, claiming it’s delicious, but it doesn’t make your mouth water because you don’t know the flavor.
Date No-eul? The thought had never crossed her mind.
What would it be like? No-eul was a good person, fun to be around. Whenever something funny happened, Ji-woo wanted to tell her first. If she had free time, she wanted to hang out with No-eul. If No-eul was too busy, Ji-woo felt disappointed.
But if someone asked whether she wanted to date No-eul…
She wasn’t sure.
Dating meant romantic feelings, right? She didn’t know if what she felt was that. In fact, she wasn’t sure she even understood what “romantic feelings” really were.
Sure, she’d felt her heart flutter plenty of times in life. Was that supposed to count as romantic? Yet she’d never experienced the drama-style passion of missing someone desperately, dreaming about them, feeling like she couldn’t live without them.
How did other people even choose someone to date?
It amazed her that so many people were in relationships—did everyone else learn how to do this somewhere? Why did it feel like she was the only one who didn’t know?
Then again, maybe others didn’t really know either. A friend once introduced her boyfriend to Ji-woo, but afterward the boyfriend kept texting Ji-woo to meet for meals or drinks—while still dating her friend.
So why bother dating at all?
Sure, Ji-woo disliked being lonely and sometimes craved company, but not enough to devote all her time to one person and handle the emotional stress. If she felt lonely, wasn’t hanging out with friends more sensible?
“Ugh…”
Ji-woo hugged her pillow and groaned, then stared blankly at the ceiling.
…Why am I even thinking about this?
No-eul hadn’t confessed to her. No-eul didn’t even like her that way. Why was she imagining all this? Tomorrow at school, they’d just be the same friends as always.
Ji-woo closed her eyes.
Better just go to sleep.
