Hiding Pandora (3 page)

“I’m sorry,” he says.

I shrug. “It was a long time ago.”

“Doesn’t make it any less of a tragedy,” he says. “Do you know what happened?”

I nod. “I don’t really like to talk about it. I was there when it happened.”

He opens his mouth to say something.

But I’ve heard it all.

I don’t need sympathy.

“What is your mom like?” I ask, abruptly changing the subject.

“She’s awesome. Completely makes up for my absent father,” Winston answers.

“Maybe I can meet her,” I say.

He nods. “Definitely.”

A blond guy walks up and slings his arm around me.

“Yo, Winston, this your girl?” he asks.

I put my jujitsu training to good use. I grab the guy’s arm and flip him over my shoulder onto the floor. I pin him down by holding a pressure point on his neck. He fights against me, but he’s not able to get up.

“
Touch me again, and I’ll make sure you can’t walk for a month
,” I say. “Got it?”

“I have no idea what you just said,” he says. “Just please, let me up.”

Apparently, when I’m angry, I speak Korean. “I said don’t touch me. If you do, next time it’ll be a lot worse.”

“Yeah, okay. I won’t,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

I take the pressure off him and stand up. He lies on the ground for a few seconds before getting up.

Winston stares at me with his mouth open. “Wow.”

“Yeah, wow,” the boy says. “That was probably the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me. I bet you like it rough.”

I look at him. “Like what rough?”

He laughs, then sticks out his hand. “I’m Drew.”

“Pandora,” I reply, not accepting his hand shake.

Drew turns to Winston. “Is she your girlfriend? I hope not. Cause, you know, I have a thing for Asian girls.” He looks back at me. “Are you Chinese? You must be. That was some seriously kick ass karate moves.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m Korean.”

“Well, Kon’nichiwa, baby,” Drew says.

“That’s Japanese,” I say, rolling my eyes.

“Huh,” he says, rubbing his chin. “Well, maybe you can teach me some Korean. Tonight. I’ll sneak into your dorm after curfew.”

“She’s with me,” Winston says, stepping closer. He gently grabs my hand, giving me a chance to pull away if I want to. I don’t, because I will do about anything to get this blond guy to go away.

“Way to go, Winston,” Drew says. “Maybe she’ll help loosen you up. You’re way too uptight.”

“We’ll see you later,” Winston says.

Before the words are out of Winston’s mouth, Drew is already gone, on his way to the next female victim.

“He was annoying,” I say, letting go of Winston’s hand.

Winston nods in agreement.

“He was wrong, too. You’re not uptight,” I say.

“Everybody says I am.”

“They’re wrong. They just haven’t taken the time to get to know you.”

“I’m glad you came here,” Winston says, smiling at me.

“Me, too,” I say. “I mean, I miss home, but this is definitely a good alternative.”

“Do you think you’ll ever move back to South Korea?” he asks.

“Definitely,” I answer. “America is nice, but it’s not home.”

“I understand,” he says. “I think about moving when I’m older, but I know I’ll probably always live in in Massachusetts. My dad is the senator, so I’ll be expected to go to a Massachusetts college—Harvard, of course. He wants me to get my law degree and eventually become president of the United States. Basically, he wants me to be him.”

“Is that what you want?” I ask.

He shrugs. “Maybe. I like politics. I could definitely see myself doing that in the future, but I want to feel like I have a choice. And I don’t want to be pushed into it. I want to travel. I want to go back to visit South Korea someday.”

“I’ll be your tour guide,” I say.

“Deal,” he says.

“Tell your dad that you want to travel. I don’t think he will care as long as you do well in school,” I say. “Now is the time that you should be doing the things you want to do. That’s why I took dance instead of learning a fourth language. It was something that
I
really wanted to do.”

Winston grins. “What would be your fourth language to learn?”

“Russian,” I answer. “I don’t know why, but I love their accents. I feel like it would be a challenge. So, someday, I will learn it. After I master Japanese.”

“I know I say this a lot, but you’re awesome.”

“Thanks,” I say, remembering my ‘American’ manners. “But I’m really not that awesome. I was tenth in my class in South Korea.”

“Tenth is not bad,” he says.

“It’s just... average. In Korea, if you want to go to a good college, you really have to stand out.”

“Here, you only have to have rich parents.”

“I would like to go to a good college in Korea,” I tell him. “After that, maybe I’ll join the CIA like my dad.”

“What does your dad do for the CIA?” he asks.

“I’m not exactly sure,” I answer. “I mean, I had no idea my dad even worked for the government until a terrorist group showed up at our house. I should have known, but I was only five. When I was little, my dad used to do these drills with me. There was a tunnel under our house. It was hidden. But if anything bad were to happen, I knew I was supposed to go into the tunnel and run away from the house as fast as I could. I used to think it was fun. My dad would always try to get me to run faster. I miss those days. I didn’t realize then that someday I would have to use those tunnels.”

“So a group of terrorist found your house?” he asks.

I nod. “I don’t know the details around it all. Even though it’s happened to me, the CIA doesn’t think I’m privileged enough to know. Which sucks. But, I mean, maybe they have a point. I’ve been here, like, twelve hours and I’ve pretty much already told you everything I know.”

“Did your friends in South Korea know?”

I shake my head. “I moved there when I was five. They kept me sheltered from everybody for the first few months that I got there. I mean, my mom had just died in a pretty traumatic way, and I had a new identity. It was overwhelming. They explained to me that if I told anybody, that they could die. So, I kept it a secret. Which, obviously, didn’t keep my best friend from dying. But, when I was there, I truly became Lee Suel Ri. I don’t feel like I am the person I was born as.”

“Lee Suel Ri is your Korean name?”

I nod. “Yeah. I probably shouldn’t have told you that.”

“Well, I won’t tell anybody.”

“I know,” I say. “I don’t know why I trust you, but I do.”

“Good. I really like you,” he says. “I’m glad we’re friends.”

“Me, too.”

11 p.m.

Thumb ladder?

Agent Kim gave me two rules that I absolutely
have
to follow while I’m at New Haven Academy. The first—don’t reveal my identity to anybody. The second—don’t do anything that could possibly get me kicked out of school. I’ve already broken both of those rules.

I climb out of my dorm room window that is conveniently on the first floor. I’m short, so I have to jump. My feet land softly on the grass, and as I look around, I see another girl climbing out of a window. She doesn’t notice me, and I feel envious of her. She doesn’t have to be aware of people are her. She has no reason to be scared for her life.

“Lee Suel Ri,” I hear somebody say and I jump. I look over to see Winston standing beside me.

“You scared me!” I say, putting a hand over my chest. “And don’t call me that.”

“You weren’t answering to Pandora,” he says.

So much for being ‘aware’ of my surroundings.

“Sorry,” I say. “I am so not used to being Pandora.”

“It’s okay,” he says. “We should probably get out of here so we don’t get caught.”

I follow Winston towards the wooded area, feeling a bit creeped out.

“What if there is a wild animal in there?” I ask.

He laughs.

“I’m serious. Don’t you guys have wild animals in the US?” I ask. “Like bears and stuff.”

“You’re safe,” he says.

I hesitate.

I’m used to being surrounded by millions of people in Seoul.
This
is scary.

Winston holds out his hand. “I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

I look at his hand.

“Hold my hand if you’re scared.”

“It’s not appropriate,” I say. “Guys and girls shouldn’t hold hands in public.”

“It is normal in America,” he tells me.

I nod and grab his hand. I blush at the contact.

“This party better be worth the anxiety it’s causing me,” I say.

“Don’t get your hopes up,” he says. “It’s just a bunch of teenagers getting drunk, hooking up, and acting stupid.”

“What does hooking up mean?”

“You’re so innocent,” he says. “I’m not sure how I feel about being the one to corrupt you.”

“Does it mean something bad?” I ask.

“It’s just... well, there will be people making out and some of them will be touching each other in inappropriate ways. And I don’t mean holding hands,” he says. “Some of them go into the woods to have sex.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry,” he says.

I decide to change the subject from touching and sex, because holding his hand is making me feel weird enough. “I’m a good drinker. The family I stayed with in Korea used to let me drink at home all the time.”

“My parents let me drink wine,” he says.

“I’ve never had wine. I usually drink
Soju
,” I say.

“Isn’t that really strong?”

I shrug my shoulders. “I suppose.”

“And you were allowed to drink it?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I say, like it’s no big deal, because it’s not. “Everybody drinks in Korea.”

“Some Americans consider drinking bad. I guess it’s a religious thing,” he says.

“That’s weird,” I say.

“What is the legal drinking age in Korea?”

“Twenty...” I pause. “Well, if you measure age the way Americans do, it would be eighteen. I know Americans can’t drink legally until they’re twenty-one, which is weird. If you’re a legal adult, you should be allowed to drink.”

“I agree,” he says. “But I doubt the legal drinking age will be changing anytime soon.”

When we reach the clearing in the trees, I see a small campfire. People are walking around. Some are stumbling, which makes me nervous when I see how close they are to the fire.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a girl vomit into a bush.

“She does not hold her liquor well,” I say.

He laughs. “That’s Zoe Price. Since you’re a senior, you get your own room, but you do share a bathroom. Zoe is the girl you share with.”

I turn to study her.

She’s tall, probably about 12 centimeters taller than I. I’m 154 centimeters. She’s also a little on the heavy side. If Agent Kim were here, she’d say that Zoe has curves. But in Korea, she’d be considered overweight.

South Korea has a very set standard of beauty. Everybody wants the same thing from their body. But here, there are so many ideas of what is
beautiful
. It’s weird to me, but I guess it’s normal here.

“Do you think she’s pretty?” I ask him.

He looks at me. “Is that a trick question?”

I shake my head. “I’m just curious what your idea of beauty is.”

“Oh,” he says. “She’s okay. A lot of guys like Zoe’s body. But she’s not really my type.”

“American guys like fat girls?” I ask.

He laughs, shaking his head. “Zoe is not fat.”

I look at her again. “Really?”

“Not at all,” he says.

“If American boys find her attractive, they probably won’t like me.”

Winston laughs again. “That is not true. American guys like Asian girls.”

“Do you like me?” I ask. “I mean, the way I look.”

He looks at me to see if I’m serious. “Sometimes, you are so shy. But then other times, you’re really outspoken.”

“An American girl wouldn’t ask you if you find her attractive?”

He shakes his head. “No. Not after knowing her for only one day.”

“Weird. I want to know, so I asked.”

“To answer your question, yes, I find you attractive,” he says. “I’ve already told you that you’re beautiful. And I mean it.”

“Okay,” I say.

“What about me?” he asks. “Do you think I’m attractive?”

I look at him, truly considering his question.

“Yes,” I answer, after a few seconds. “You’re quite handsome. I especially like your hair. I’ve never met a guy with blond hair before. And I like your light brown eyes. They’re kind of... what was the word you used? Amazing? That’s the one.”

Winston smiles big, and I’m wondering what exactly it is about what I said that makes him so happy.

“You have a great smile,” I tell him, because he does.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he tells me.

“I’ve dreaded coming here for the past four months, now,” I admit. “But now that I’m here, and now that I’ve met you, I’m glad I’m here. I like being your friend.”

“I think I might have a crush on you,” he says.

My face grows warm.

“I have a question, but I’m not quite sure how to ask it in English. There is this one word that I don’t know what the English word is for it,” I tell him.

“What’s the Korean word?” he asks.

“
Sseom lada
,” I say.

“Hold on,” he says, then pulls out his phone. He taps something. “Google Translate. Say it again.”

“
Sseom lada
,” I repeat.

He frowns. “Thumb ladder? Maybe it didn’t pick it up correctly.”

I look at the hangul on the screen. “No, that’s right. That’s not the accurate translation though. I don’t know what a thumb ladder is.”

He laughs. “Me, either. Can you describe what it means?”

“No. Well, maybe,” I say, then sigh. “It’s so hard to describe in English. It’s... okay, so, you have a crush on me. And we’re not, like, in a relationship or anything. But this is kind of more than a friends thing. Right?”

“Wait, so you’re saying
sseom lada
is a word Koreans use to describe a girl who is almost their girlfriend?” he asks.

I nod. “Well, sort of...”

“That’s convenient. I wish there was an English word for that,” he says.

“Anyway, I am just asking because I know Americans move fast when it comes to dating and stuff,” I explain. “In Korea, since we’re strangers, we’d have to become friends first, which makes sense. But I know it’s not that way here.”