Eighteen’s Bed Novel Completed - Chapter 92

Let’s just ask directly. Then he can’t not answer, right? And as soon as I pressed the send button, I turned off the screen. I shoved the large phone into my pocket. The slightly open window swallowed the season. Summer entered the small taxi. Another round of exams would soon hit.

I stared quietly at the sky, where storm clouds were gathering, and the silently driving taxi driver spoke to me. He seemed unable to bear the silence.

“Are you a senior in high school?”

I leaned deeply into the faux leather seat, quietly looking at the taxi driver’s name tag. Then I slowly raised my gaze and compared it to the face reflected in the rearview mirror. The photo on the name tag was too faded to see the face clearly. The eyes reflected in the rearview mirror met mine. I shifted my gaze back to the window.

“Yes.”

The conversation did not continue after that.

After arriving at school, I watched the black taxi disappear like an arrow as soon as the money was paid, then moved my feet. The school was quiet, without even a small stir, as if the fourth period class had already begun.

Usually, students walking around at this time are delinquents.

Coming back after wandering around outside when not even sick, what a delinquent behavior. I let out a self-deprecating laugh, grabbed the stair railing, and went up one step at a time.

Then, on the large window between the first and second floor stairs, I saw an unexpected person. It was because he had raised his head and stood up as I passed by. I was startled and looked at the person who had appeared suddenly without a word. It was Kim Minho.

“Hey, you bastard!”

“Huh?”

Kim Minho also seemed startled, hastily brushing himself off with his hands. How is he there? The person outside the window was clearly standing. Conquered by curiosity, I moved my feet closer to the window and pressed my face against it. Surprisingly, there was a small ceiling covering the entrance of the central hall right below that window.

“…I didn’t know there was a space like this here.”

“Ah, of all people to get caught by, it had to be Kang Jun, you bastard. The timing is so fucking awful. Fu-u-uck.”

Stretching my neck further, I saw cigarette butts scattered around. Ah, I see.

“Are you secretly smoking alone here?”

“Why, you fucking snitch?”

“No.”

What did it matter to me if Kim Minho smoked here or not? I just shook my head slightly and turned back around. As I went up one step, hearing the small ssang-siot sound from behind me, a tiny bit of pity, for some reason, suddenly and unexpectedly arose. Perhaps the incident in the computer lab a few days ago was the cause. Or perhaps “Deposed Queen Kang” written in the science lab was the reason.

“…Ah, right. I said I wouldn’t tell.”

Only the victim knows. That embarrassment. I can be sure. I can assert it. “Deposed Queen Kang” was definitely Go Yohan’s doing. My sensitive instincts tell me so.

What these guys do is like a claw machine. If there’s no one specific to pick on and tease, they’ll definitely go looking for another toy. In freshman year, it must have been one of the many students I didn’t know. In the first semester of sophomore year, it was Han Taesan, and in the second semester of sophomore year, it was Han Junwoo. Just when I thought I was becoming the next victim, the almighty Kang Jun somehow survived again, annoyingly. So, who would be the next toy the remaining kids are looking for?

My body slowly turned towards Kim Minho, the pig trying to climb over the window. He is indeed a bad kid whom people would dislike.

“What are you looking at? Shut your mouth and quietly get lost. If you snitch, you’ll get beaten to hell.”

“… “

Then I wouldn’t necessarily have to help him, would I? In freshman year, I stood by, and in sophomore year, yes, I helped with a slightly twisted heart… But in junior year, I never thought I’d be the target. But it’s fortunate. I barely escaped now. My deep thoughts slowly opened my mouth.

“Park Dongcheol, he’s a worse kid than you think.”

And that’s as far as it goes.

Because I know how much a person who helps a victim in this small world suffers. My pity only went this far. Wow, Kang Jun, you’ve changed a lot though. I shook my head at myself in disbelief and went up one more step. Then it suddenly occurred to me that I hadn’t greeted Kim Minho. I adjusted my bag and turned around.

“See you later.”

And the face of Kim Minho I saw was laden with heavy contemplation. Seeing his face, he didn’t seem to have any intention of hearing my greeting, so I quickly left the spot.

I had arrived in front of the classroom, but I didn’t feel like going in. I didn’t want to attend the class even midway. Opening the door, eyes focusing on me, the teacher speaking, scolding, me apologizing, sitting down…

How annoying those processes were.

I just leaned against the door, sat down, and listened to the class coming through the thin plywood wall, turning on my phone. There was still no reply from Shin Jaehyun. Only dozens of accumulated messages. I read only the first letter of the sender’s name and turned off the screen.

‘Go’

I sat down on my bottom, propped up my knees, and buried my head between my two arms resting on them. The class continued quietly. A small vibration rang in my right hand. Shin Jaehyun wouldn’t have sent it during class. He seemed quite old-fashioned too. But a glimmer of hope bloomed.

And that hope was instantly killed by that guy again.

「Um, I think there’s something wrong with my phone.」

Go Yohan. That damn Go Yohan.

What is this bastard doing during class? While I let out a dumbfounded laugh, the vibration rang again.

「I’m not getting texts from you.」

Thump, thump, thump, raindrops slowly tapped on the window. Soon, along with the smell of wet earth, the sky turned dark. Swaaah, instantly, water screamed as it fell.

The monsoon season had begun.

The hardest words to hear from Go Yohan are probably, “I’m sorry.”

Does Go Yohan truly feel no guilt? Or does he know his mistakes but refuse to admit them? I, who have never lived as Go Yohan, don’t know. Looking at arrogant Go Yohan’s life from my perspective often brings a certain scene to mind.

Like a TV or a small phone screen. The words spoken by people are often seen there. Excuses piled up, but no apology. Why? When I asked the question, the answer came quickly. Because the moment you say “I’m sorry,” the mistake you made becomes a fact. I’ve also benefited from it, so I understand a little. That way of thinking. So, there’s only one case where the privileged apologize.

When they’re truly screwed.

In conclusion, Go Yohan has never been truly screwed.

“…He’s so annoying.”

I truly mean it. Go Yohan clearly doesn’t think he’s screwed even in this situation.

I looked at the guy sitting on my head with my cold fingertips. My heart clashed in two. “Reply nicely to Go Yohan quickly and become special friends.” No, no. Think about your life. Look closely at the brilliant future unfolding before you.

There are no gays there. But there’s no bullying either.

Go Yohan would give Kang Jun, who was bothering him, a very good gift. Of course, he should only scratch it to the extent that he enjoys it. Go Yohan’s personality was always like that. He always enjoyed the thrill, eroding himself.

If you ask me why, I don’t know either. I’m not Go Yohan. Likewise, Go Yohan probably doesn’t understand me either.

I ask myself, “Then what will you do? Will you reply or not?”

My dilemma grows longer. Unlike when I contacted other people I knew. I pressed the screen-on button with my thumb, again and again and again. Just as the screen flickered, visibly draining the battery, the bell for lunch rang.

“Get out, you bastards!”

“Charge!”

“Ugh, what’s wrong with these guys?”

Downstairs, hungry ghouls stomped their feet and ran. Their momentum was so frightening that the entire building subtly shook. Thanks to that, my head also shook. It felt like my brain was vibrating. Inside the third-grade class 1 classroom, the teacher’s hurried voice could be heard, trying to finish the class quickly.

“Alright, kids! I’ll just explain this and then we’re done! It’ll only take a minute!”

Yes, moderation is always important.

I slowly inhaled and massaged my left arm with my right hand.

Kang Jun. You’ve always done well. You’ve lived well like a bat. After all, it was pathetic that I admitted to being a bat, but still, I’m surviving better than the kids who curse me. Come to think of it, my parents might be right. The kids hate me because I’m surviving well, and they’re jealous. No, it’s certain.

“Yes… it’s certain.”

Drrrk, the door opened.

“Clean up everything by the next class, and solve all the handouts I gave you!”

I heard the sound of acupressure slippers roughly treading the hallway, ignoring the noise. The teacher didn’t even look at the back door where I was sitting and went straight to the teachers’ office. Kul-tuk, kul-tuk. Following behind, I heard the desires of the relatively smart high school students hurrying their steps, eager to fill their stomachs. Noise mixed and approached the back and front doors. I got up so the kids wouldn’t see me. And it was the moment I stepped through the back door.

“Huh?”

One of my classmates, whom I encountered first, made a foolish sound.

I pretended to meet his eyes and slowly turned my gaze. Naturally, my starting point for observation was Go Yohan. Because the basic rule of observation is to scan the most important things first.

Go Yohan was lying face down, his left arm stretched out with his head resting on it. For some reason, there were no people near Go Yohan. About three people were standing around him, casually chatting among themselves while getting their wallets ready.

The classroom was quickly scanned by me.

Im Yoongi was there, and the seat next to him was empty. Park Ha-on seemed to be among those who rushed out as soon as class ended. What happened? And I saw kids scattered like islands, and Shin Jaehyun among them. I narrowed my eyes and looked at his pants pocket. Is his phone there? Or in his bag…

“Kang Jun? Why are you just coming now?”

Suddenly, an unfamiliar voice in front of me grew loud. Startled, I quickly turned my head and looked forward. The source of the unfamiliar voice was a guy who greeted me happily as soon as he saw me.

“Huh? What?”

“Why are you just coming now?”

“Ah, ah! Sorry. I was so engrossed in looking at the blackboard… Ah, I’m sorry again, but was there any homework today?”

I almost became someone who ignored a person standing in front of me. I hastily changed the subject.

“Homework? Uh… English. English reading comprehension. And there’s a handout too.”

“Really? That’s good. Which pages are the reading comprehension from and to?”

I feel bad. This guy has bad luck. Come to think of it, this guy, without any ill will, just greeted me out of goodwill because he was sitting near the back door, and now he’s caught by me, reduced to telling me about homework. It’s not that being in that situation is bad, but I feel like he could have had lunch earlier if he hadn’t spoken to me.

“From here to here. He said to finish it by the next class.”

A finger with black ink on its tip repeatedly flipped through a few pages of paper and returned. I put on the kindest and most genuinely happy expression I could for him.

“Ah, thank you.”

Then I loosened one strap of my bag, turned around, picked a snack from my front pocket, which I always carried, and handed it to him. It was my way of showing gratitude. In the end, I got help with my homework from a blurry-faced kid I hadn’t even thought of, whom I barely remembered. How absurd.

“Want to eat it?”

“Oh, sure. I’ll eat it.”

I patted his arm with my palm as a sign of thanks.