Runway Chapter 4

I wandered around near the school, and I also went up to the rooftop of the abandoned four-story building and looked up at the sky.

You might ask why I even bother going to school, but I was fairly satisfied. At least I could feel like I was blending in with my peers.

“Then want to be friends with me?”

The class president said. It was in front of the staff room. I stepped slightly aside from the staff room door. I stood facing the class president.

I’m on the short side. Only stubbornness remained. Words circled in my mouth.

Why would you be friends with me? You’ve got plenty of kids around you, and everyone likes you. I have nothing. There are at least twenty guys in the whole school who study better than me.

I’m just… I’m just me.

“What’s good about being friends?”

Jung Hyunwoo thought for a moment and then began.

“We eat lunch together, eat dinner together, walk home together, meet up on weekends to hang out.”

“…”

“Study together, just, you know.”

“Yeah?”

I couldn’t give any answer and just stood in front of the staff room door again. Instead of answering, I opened the door. I looked around the staff room.

Among the kids who were there for counseling, or to ask questions about things they didn’t understand from the last class, or simply running errands, the teachers did their work like NPCs, non-player characters in a game.

“Hello.”

I greeted first. No one acknowledged it.

“Hello.”

The class president greeted after me. The NPCs pretend to know him.

Was I actually an NPC too? Is that why they pass me over and only acknowledge the class president? Was only the class president a game player?

A stupid thought occurs to me.

Anyway, I know the class president is the protagonist. I left the class president behind and approached my homeroom teacher. I planned to finish my business quickly and go back.

“Hyunwoo, did you bring it?”

But the homeroom teacher went to the class president first. At that question, the class president, who had been standing far away, hurried his steps. He handed over the rough paper he had been holding in his arms.

The homeroom teacher tapped the paper he received from the class president on the desk, tap tap, and organized it.

“You worked hard. What about the guys who didn’t submit?”

The homeroom teacher asked.

“I collected them all. Ah, except for Seonho.”

Only then did the homeroom teacher’s gaze, which had been only on the class president, turn to me.

I had been sprawled out asleep all morning, so he must have checked during that time. I flinched and stepped back. But the class president was standing behind me, so I was blocked. No help at all.

“Seonho, you’re a kid who studies well, so why don’t you take the supplementary classes.”

The time had come to explain again what I’d already explained in the first semester and summer. Why is everyone around me so bad at remembering.

They say Seoul and other places barely even do supplementary classes or evening self-study, so I don’t know why ours is like this.

What help is it to forcibly hold kids back and make them do it. Even during morning self-study, most of them just lie face down and sleep.

The way he spoke settles in. Prickly, prickly, raising thorns.

Stupid bastard. In the end I cursed inwardly.

“I told you I can’t do it.”

“So why—Seonho, do you go to a cram school, what do you go to.”

Fuck, I can’t because I don’t have money. Stupid bastard, blockhead bastard, I could do better than you.

My breath caught. But I couldn’t say anything.

The teacher organized the rough paper again. He didn’t even give me a glance.

Tap tap. Each time the bundle of paper struck the desk repeatedly, it became neatly organized. I also put my eyes there.

“I called your mother but she didn’t answer. Is she busy?”

“Mom is busy. She can only talk after 11 PM.”

“That’s too late, that is.”

It’s a strange battle of nerves. He deliberately showed indifference.

Is he hoping I’ll give up and say yes, I’ll take them? But I have no way either. I took my eyes off the paper.

“I can’t call before that. I just….”

“…”

“I don’t have the money to take supplementary classes.”

Having finished speaking, I lowered my gaze. Only then did the homeroom teacher look at me.

Our eyes met. He hurriedly turned his gaze away. It’s always like that.

I couldn’t go on the school trip, I don’t take supplementary classes, I don’t eat dinner—so I don’t know why he acts so stupidly. This was just a matter of interest.

“Go in. I’ll check it for now. Seonho, I’m saying this because I care about you. You know?”

He pretends to soothe me belatedly. I know he wouldn’t have said this if it were other guys.

Once, while passing through the hallway, I saw other guys chatting with teachers. Back then those guys definitely said this.

—Teacher, I don’t have money for meals. It’s a waste to spend this money on food. My family is dirt poor so every single penny is precious, why would I pay money to eat this kind of thing.

Then the teachers say this.

—What did you say, what did you say?

I, who truly have no money, eat through support. Since elementary school I’d never once not received support.

In the end I turned my steps.

“I’ll go too.”

Behind me, the class president put on a good act to the very end. I left the staff room.

The next period was English with a native speaker instructor. I’ll just leave like this.

Lee Wookchan probably didn’t go to school either, so should I go see him. Would he be with Mina noona. Or, would he be gathered with his friends.

I took my phone out of my pocket.

“Seonho.”

The class president called me again. Already in a bottomed-out mood, I turned my head with an irritated expression.

“What.”

When I replied, the guy put his hand behind his head and stroked his hair. He looked awkward, and seemed flustered.

It’s not like he’s pitying me….

My mood gets worse.

“Seonho, when I said let’s be friends, it wasn’t because you’re always alone.”

“…”

“I wanted to keep saying it but I kept missing the timing.”

“Why are you saying that now, just do it over KakaoTalk.”

“You have KakaoTalk?”

“What do you take me for?”

Without realizing it, a cold tone leaked out. The class president said one more time.

“Sorry.”

He apologizes well. I lowered my sharply raised eyes. Jung Hyunwoo came right up to me.

“Then tell me your phone number.”

He belatedly took out his phone and held it out. What would a guy who transferred at the end of the first semester and became class president in the second semester know.

I took the phone and entered the number. Bae… Seonho…. The guy who saved it smiled slightly. How cheeky.

“Are you going up?”

“No, I have English so I’m going to another building.”

“Ah, okay. Then see you later.”

After finishing speaking, we parted. I left the building. I took the path to the side gate opposite the playground.

I called Lee Wookchan. After about two rings, he answered.

[Where are you.]

Lee Wookchan always answered the phone like this. What are you going to do if I tell you where I am. Is he going to come pick me up or something.

“I’m at school right now.”

[Are you a delinquent? Why are you calling.]

Lee Wookchan laughed after finishing. I asked Lee Wookchan.

“Where are you?”

[Home.]

“What, you didn’t go out for once.”

[I woke up because you called. Why.]

“I’m going to my house now.”

Anyway, even if I go home I’m alone. After this period ends it’s lunchtime, so I’ll eat lunch and come back to the classroom.

From now I have about two hours free. Lee Wookchan giggled.

[This is a real complete delinquent.]

He said in a slurred pronunciation. He must be smoking again even though he just said he woke up.

I imagined it. Lee Wookchan, wearing only a single pair of underwear, scratching his shoulders vigorously and smoking.

[I just need to wash and put on clothes.]

“Want me to boil ramen?”

[When you go, hyung will take you. I’ll have to bring the motorcycle.]

“Who said motorcycle.”

Anyway, a delinquent bastard. But it’s nothing much and I laugh for no reason.

Anyway, Lee Wookchan and I are the same. Whether I study well, whether I have no money, whether Lee Wookchan goes to some school—we were in the same bucket.

It was a little sad that no matter how much we struggled we couldn’t escape, but because of that there were times I felt relieved.

The fact that I couldn’t escape meant Lee Wookchan was the same.

[I’m coming out. I’ll go to where you are.]

“Yeah.”

I ended the call. Before leaving the school grounds, I turned around again.

A school with identical-sized windows packed tightly on a building stacked with bright red bricks. Then suddenly it came to mind.

“Ah, I’m screwed.”

I was in the same English class as the class president.