The Monday after the Kims' dinner party, Yizhuo tracked me down at school and forced Kim Minjeong back into my brain. "Yuji! Whoa, girl, wait up! How have you been?"

"I'm fine, Yizhuo, how are you?"

"No, seriously," she whispered. "Are you doing okay?" She shifted her backpack and looked over each shoulder. "I got to thinking, you know, that was just so cold of Minjeong. Especially since you've got that soft spot for her."

"Who told you that?"

"Like I haven't got eyes? Come on, girl. It's a given. Which is why I got to worryin' about you. Are you seriously all right?"

"Yes, I am. But thanks for thinking about me." I eyed her and said, "And Yizhuo? It's not a given anymore."

She laughed. "How long is this diet gonna last?"

"It's not a diet. I've just, uh, lost my taste for her."

She looked at me skeptically. "Uh-huh."

"Well, I have. But thanks for, you know, caring."

All through first period I was still feeling strong and right and certain, but then Mrs. Bae ended the lesson a full fifteen minutes early and said, "Clear your desks of everything but a pen or pencil."

"What?" everyone cried and believe me—I was right along with them. I was not prepared for a quiz!

"Everything!" she said. "Come on, you're wasting valuable time."

The room filled with grumbles and the sound of shuffling binders, and when we'd all pretty much complied with her request, she picked a stack of bright yellow papers off her desk, fanned them with an evil grin, and said, "It's time to vote for basket boys and girls!"

A wave of relief swept across the room. "Basket boys and girls? You mean it's not a quiz?"

She ticked through the stack, counting ballots as she spoke. "It is like a quiz in that I don't want you conferring with one another. It's also like a quiz in that you have a limited amount of time." She slapped a set of ballots down on the first desk of row one, then went on to the second row. "I will collect them from you individually when the bell rings, and I will inspect to see that you have complied with the following instructions." She scooted over to row three. "Choose five, and only five, of the boys and girls on the list. Do not put your name on it, and do not discuss your choices with your neighbors." She was on to row four now, talking faster and faster.

"When you've made your selections, simply turn your sheet over." She slapped the remainder down on the last desk. "Do not, I repeat, do not fold your ballot!"

Huang Renjun raised his hand and blurted out, "Why do guys have to vote. It's lame to have guys vote."

"Renjun...," Mrs. Bae warned.

"Seriously! What are we supposed to do? Vote for our friends or our enemies?"

A lot of people snickered, and Mrs. Bae scowled, but he had a point. Twenty of the school's eighth-grade boys and girls would be made to pack a picnic lunch for two and be auctioned off to the highest bidder.

"Being a basket boy or girl is an honor—" Mrs. Bae began, but she was interrupted by Renjun.

"It's a joke!" he said. "It's embarrassing! Who wants to be a basket boy or girl?"

All the guys around him muttered, "Not me," but Mrs. Bae cleared her throat and said, "You should want to be one! It's a tradition that has helped support the school since it was founded. There have been generation after generation of basket boys and girls helping make this campus what it is today. It's why we have flower beds. It's why we have shade trees and a grove of apple trees. Visit another junior high sometime and you'll begin to realize what a little oasis our campus really is."

"All this from the sweat and blood of basket boys and girls," Renjun grumbled.

Mrs. Bae sighed. "Renjun, someday when your children go to school here, you'll understand. For now, please just vote for whoever you think will earn a high bid. And class," she added, "we're down to nine minutes."

The room fell quiet. And as I read down the list of over one hundred and fifty eighth-grade boys and girls, I realized that to me, there had only ever been one girl. To me, there had only been Minjeong.

I didn't let myself get sentimental. I had liked her for all the wrong reasons, and I certainly wasn't going to vote for her now. But I didn't know who else to vote for.

I looked at Mrs. Bae, who was eagle-eyeing the class between glances at the clock. What if I didn't choose anybody? What if I just turned it in blank?

She'd give me detention, that's what. So, with two minutes left to go, I put dots next to the boys and girls I knew who weren't jerks or clowns but were just nice. When I was through, there were all of ten names with
dots, and of those I circled five: Lee So Hee, Ha Sooyoung, Sim Ja Yun, Park Wonbin, and Lee Jeno.

They wouldn't make basket boy or girl, but then I wouldn't be bidding, so it didn't really matter. At the bell I handed over my ballot and forgot all about the auction.

Until lunchtime the next day, that is. Yizhuo cut me off on my way to the library and dragged me over to her table instead. "Have you seen the list?" she asked.

"What list?"

"The list of basket boys and girls!" She shoved a scrawled copy of twenty names in front of me and looked around. "Your main dish is on it!"

Five from the top, there it was—Kim Minjeong.

I should have expected it, but still, this awful surge of possessiveness shot through me. Who had voted for her? Out of one hundred fifty names she must have gotten a lot of votes! Suddenly I was picturing a swarm of girls and guys waving stacks of cash in the Booster ladies' faces as they begged to have lunch with her.

I threw the list back at Yizhuo and said, "She's not my main dish! As a matter of fact, I didn't even vote for her."

"Oooo, girl! You are stickin' to your diet!"

"It's not a diet, Yizhuo. I'm... I'm over her, okay?"

"I'm glad to hear it, 'cause rumor is, that bimbette Wonyoung is already stakin' her claim on her."

"Wonyoung? Jang Wonyoung?" I could feel my cheeks flush.

"That's right." Yizhuo waved her list in the air, calling, "Yeji! Minju! Over here! I've got the list!"

Yizhuo's friends fell all over themselves getting to her, then pored over the paper like it was a treasure map. Minju cried, "Ahn Yujin's on it! She is so cute. I'd go ten bucks on her, easy!"

"And Ryujin's on it, too!" Liz squealed. "That girl is"– she shivered and giggled—"fi-yi-yine!"

Minju's top lip curled a little and she said, "Lee Jeno? Lee Je-no? How did he get on this list?"

For a moment I couldn't believe my ears. I snatched the paper out of Minju's hand. "Are you sure?"

"Right there," she said, pointing to his name. "Who do you suppose voted for him?"

"The quiet girls, I guess," Yizhuo said. "Me, I'm more interested in Uchinaga Aeri. Have I got any competition?"

Minju laughed, "If you're in, I'm out!"

"Me too," said Yeji.

"How about you, Yuji?" Yizhuo asked me. "Bringin' spare change on Friday?"

"No!"

"You get to miss the second half of school...."

"No! I'm not bidding. Not on anyone!" She laughed. "Good for you."

That afternoon I rode home from school brooding about Minjeong and the whole basket boy and girl auction. I could feel myself backsliding about Minjeong. But why should I care if Wonyoung liked her? I shouldn't even be thinking about her! 

When I wasn't thinking about Minjeong, I was worrying about poor Lee Jeno. He was quiet, and I felt sorry for him, having to clutch a basket and be auctioned off in front of the whole student body. What had I done to him? 

But as I bounced up our drive, the basket boys and girls bounced right out of my mind. Was that green I saw poking out of the dirt? Yes! Yes, it was! I dropped the bike and got down on my hands and knees. They were so thin, so small, so far apart! They barely made a difference in the vastness of the black dirt, and yet there they were. Pushing their way through to the afternoon sun. 

I ran in the house, calling, "Mom! Mom, there's grass!" 

"Really?" She emerged from the bathroom with her cleaning gloves and a pail. "I was wondering if it was ever going to spring up." 

"Well, it has! Come! Come and see!" 

She wasn't too impressed at first. But after I made her get down on her hands and knees and really look, she smiled and said, "They're so delicate...." 

"They look like they're yawning, don't they?" 

She cocked her head a bit and looked a little closer. "Yawning?" 

"Well, more stretching, I guess. Like they're sitting up in their little bed of dirt with their arms stretched way high, saying, good morning, world!" 

She laughed and said, "Yes, they do!" 

I got up and uncoiled the hose. "I think they need a wakeup shower, don't you?" 

My mom agreed and left me to my singing and sprinkling. And I was completely lost in the joy of my little green blades of new life when I heard the school bus rumble to a stop up on Collier Street. 

Minjeong. 

Her name shot through my brain, and with it came a panic I didn't seem able to control. Before I could stop myself, I dropped the hose and dashed inside. I locked myself in my room and tried to do my homework. Where was my peace? Where was my resolve? Where was my sanity? Had they left me because Jang Wonyoung was after her? Was it just some old rivalry making me feel this way? I had to get past Minjeong and Wonyoung. They deserved each other—let them have each other! 

But in my heart, I knew that just like the new grass, I wasn't strong enough yet to be walked on. And until I was, there was only one solution: I had to stay away from her. I needed to rope her out of my life.

So I closed my ears to the news of the basket boys and girls, and steered clear of Minjeong at school. And when I did happen to run into her, I simply said hello like she was someone I barely even knew. 

It was working, too! I was growing stronger by the day. Who cared about auctions and the basket boys and girls? I didn't! 

Friday morning, I got up early and collected what few eggs there were in the coop, watered the front yard, which was by now definitely green, ate breakfast, and got ready for school. But as I was running a brush through my hair, I couldn't help thinking about Jang Wonyoung. It was auction day. She'd probably been up since five, making her hair into some impossibly pouffy do.

So what? I told myself. So what? But as I was throwing on my windbreaker, I eyed my money tin and hesitated. What if... 

No! No-no-no! 

I ran to the garage, got my bike, and pushed out of the driveway. And I was in the street and on my way when Mrs. Lee flew right in my path. 

"Jimin," she called, waving her hand through the air. "Here, dear. Take this. I'm so sorry it's taken me this long to get it to you. I keep missing you in the mornings." 

I didn't even know how much she owed me. At that moment I didn't care. All I knew was the top bill in her hand was a ten, and it was striking terror in my heart. "Mrs. Lee, please. I... I don't want that. You don't have to pay me." 

"Nonsense, child! Of course I'm going to pay you. Here!" she said and waved it out for me to take. 

"No, really. I... I don't want it." 

She wedged it in the pocket of my jeans and said, "What utter nonsense. Now go! Go buy yourself a rooster!" then hurried back up her walkway. 

"Mrs. Lee... Mrs. Lee?" I called after her. "I don't want a rooster...!" but she was gone. 

All the way to school Mrs. Lee's money was burning a hole in my pocket and another in my brain. How much was it? 

When I got to school, I parked my bike, then broke down and looked. Ten, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen. I folded the bills together and slid them back into my pocket. Was it more than Wonyoung had? 

All through first period I was furious with myself for even thinking it. All through second period I kept my eyes off of Minjeong, but oh! It was so hard! I'd never seen her in a tie and cuff links before! 

Then at break I was at my locker when Jang Wonyoung appeared out of nowhere. She got right next to me and said, "I hear you're planning to bid on her." 

"What?" I took a step back. "Who told you that? I am not!" 

"Someone said they saw you with a whole wad of cash this morning. How much do you have?"

 "It's... it's none of your business. And I'm not bidding, okay? I... I don't even like her anymore."

 She laughed, "Oh, that'll be the day!" 

"It's true." I slammed my locker closed. "Go ahead and waste your money on her. I don't care." 

I left her there with her mouth open, which felt even better than getting her in a headlock.

That feeling carried me clear through to eleven o'clock, when the entire student body assembled in the gymnasium. I was not going to bid on Kim Minjeong. No way! 

Then the basket boys and girls came out on the stage. Minjeong looked so adorable holding a picnic basket with red-and-white-checked napkins peeking out from either side, and the thought of Jang Wonyoung flipping one of those napkins into her lap nearly made the bills in my pocket burst into flames. 

Yizhuo came up behind me and whispered, "Rumor is you've got a wad of cash. Is that true?"

"What? No! I mean, yes, but I... I'm not bidding." 

"Oooo, girl, look at you. You feelin' all right?" 

I wasn't. I felt sick to my stomach and shaky in the knees. "I'm fine," I told her. 

"Fine." She looked from me to the stage and back to me. "You got nothin' to lose but your self-respect." 

"Stop it!" I whispered at her fiercely. It felt like I was having a panic attack. I couldn't breathe. I felt light-headed and wobbly—like I wasn't in control of my own body. 

Yizhuo said, "Maybe you should sit down." 

"I'm fine, Yizhuo, I'm fine." She frowned at me. 

"I think I'll stick around to make sure. "The Booster Club president, Mrs. Hye, had been fluttering around the basket boys and girls, fixing ties and ribbons, and giving them last-minute instructions, but now suddenly she was slamming her gavel on the podium, calling into the microphone, "If you'll all settle down, we're ready to begin." 

I'd never seen six hundred kids quiet down so fast. I guess Mrs. Hye hadn't either, because she smiled and said, "Why, thank you. Thank you very much." Then she said, "And welcome to the fifty second annual Basket Boy and Girl Auction! I know that your teachers have gone over the procedures with you in homeroom, but I've been asked to remind you of a few things: This is a civilized proceeding. No whistling, catcalls, or other degrading behavior will be tolerated. If you wish to place a bid, you must raise your hand high. Bidding without raising your hand is prohibited, and should you decide to be a funny guy, you will be caught and detained or suspended. Are we all clear on that? Good." She looked from one side of the gym to the other. "Teachers, I see that you are in position." 

Six hundred heads turned slowly from side to side, looking at the blockade of teachers on either sideof the gym. 

"Man," Yizhuo whispered, "they're not leaving much room for fun, are they?" 

Mrs. Hye continued, "Minimum bid is ten dollars, and of course, the sky's the limit, but we don't accept IOUs." She pointed to her right. "Winning bidders should go directly to the table at the north door when I declare the basket to be sold. And as you're aware, winners and their basket boys or girls have the rest of the school day off and are exempt from tonight's homework in all classes." She smiled out at the blockade. "Teachers, we appreciate your support on this. 

"All right, then!" She put on her reading glasses and looked at a three-by-five card. "Our first basket has been brought by Jung Sungchan." 

She looked over her glasses at him and said, "Come on up, Sungchan. Don't be shy!" He inched forward as she continued. "Jeffrey has brought a scrumptious lunch consisting of chicken salad sandwiches, oriental noodles, baby grapes, iced tea, and fortune cookies. "She smiled at him over her glasses. "Sounds delicious and sounds like fun! Which," she said, looking back at the crowd, "Sungchan is! He enjoys skateboarding, skiing, and swimming, but ladies, he also enjoys a day in the park and watching Jim Carrey movies." She turned to him and grinned. "They are a kick, aren't they?" 

Poor Sungchan tried to smile, but you could tell—he wanted to die. 

"All right, then," said Mrs. Hye as she whipped off her glasses. "Do I hear ten?" Not only did she hear ten, she heard twelve, fifteen, twenty, and twenty-five, too! "Going... going...gone!" cried Mrs. McClure. "To the young lady in the purple tunic!" 

"Who is that?" I asked Yizhuo."I think her name's Lee Yuni," she said. "She's a seventh grader."

 "Really? Wow. I would never have bid last year! And I... I don't remember bids going up that high, either." 

Yizhuo eyed me. "Which tells me that maybe you would bid this year? How much you got?" 

I looked at her and almost dissolved right on the spot. 

"Yizhuo, I didn't bring money on purpose! My neighbor made me take it on the way to school because she owed it to me for eggs and—" 

"For eggs? Oh, like Minjeong was talking about in the library?" 

"Exactly, and—" I looked at her looking at me and stopped cold. "How can you even think about bidding on that girl?" 

"I don't want to! But I've liked her for so long. Yizhuo, I've liked her since I was seven. And even though I know she's a coward and a sneak and I should never speak to her again, I'm having trouble focusing on that. Especially since Jang  Wonyoung is after her. And now I've got this money burning ahole in my pocket!"

"Well, I can understand the bit about Jang Wonyoung, but if you know that girl's just a big piece of fluffy cheesecake that you're gonna regret eating, I can help you with your diet." She put out her hand. 

"Give me the money. I'll hold it for you." 

"No!" 

"No?" 

"I mean... I can handle this. I've got to handle it." 

She shook her head. "Oh, girl. I'm hurting for you here." 

I looked back at the stage. The auction was happening so fast! They'd be at Minjeong in no time. As the bidding continued, the battle in my head got louder and fiercer. What was I going to do?

 Then suddenly the gym fell quiet. You could have heard a pin drop. And standing next to Mrs. Hye looking completely mortified was Lee Jeno. 

Mrs. Hye was scouring the crowd withher eyes, looking very uncomfortable, too. 

"What happened?" I whispered to Yizhuo. 

"No one's bidding," she whispered back. 

"Do I hear ten?" called Mrs. Hye. "Come on, out there! This lunch is delicious. Strawberry tarts, roast beef and Muenster cheese sandwiches... " 

"Oh, no!" I whispered to Yizhuo. "I can't believe I did this to him!" 

"You? What did you do?" 

"I voted for him!" 

"Well, you couldn't have been the only one...." 

"But why isn't anyone bidding on him? He's... he's so nice." 

Yizhuo nodded. "Exactly."

That's when I realized what I had to do. My hand shot into the air and I called, "Ten!" 

"Ten?" warbled Mrs. Hye. "Did I hear ten?" 

I put my hand up higher and said to Yizhuo, "Say twelve." 

"What?""Say twelve, I'll outbid you." 

"No way!"

"Yizhuo! He can't go for ten, c'mon!" 

"Twelve!" Yizhuo called, but her hand didn't go up very high. 

"Fifteen!" I cried. 

"Sixteen!" called Yizhuo, and eyed me with a laugh. 

I whispered, "Yizhuo! I've only got fifteen." 

Her eyes got enormous. 

I laughed and called, "Eighteen!" then held her arm down and said, "But that really is all I've got." There was a moment of silence and then, "Eighteen going once! Eighteen going twice... Sold! for eighteen dollars." 

Yizhuo laughed and said, "Whoa, girl! What a rush!" 

I nodded. "Yes, it was!" 

"Well, no dessert for you. Looks like you got cleaned out by something a little more... uh...nutritious." She nodded toward the stage. "You gonna go up to the table like you're supposed to? Or you gonna stick around and see the carnage?" 

I almost didn't have a choice. Before Mrs. Hye could say two words about Minjeong or her basket, Wonyoung called, "Ten!" Then from the middle of the gym came "Twenty!" It was Lee Chaeyoung, with her hand way in the air. They went back and forth, back and forth, higher and higher, until Wonyoung called, "Sixty-two!" 

"I can't believe it," I whispered to Yizhuo. 

"Sixty-two dollars! C'mon, Chaeyoung, come on." 

"I think she's out. Wonyoung's got it." 

"Sixty-two dollars going once!" cried Mrs. Hye, but before she could say, Going twice! a voicefrom the back of the gym called, "A hundred!" 

Everyone gasped and turned around to see who had called the bid. Darla whispered, "It's Sinu."

"Park?" I asked. 

Yizhuo pointed. "Right over there."She was easy to spot, standing tall above the others in the number-seven basketball jersey she almostalways wore. 

"Wow," I whispered, "I had no idea." 

"Maybe she'll slam-dunk him for you," Yizhuo said with a grin. 

"Who cares?" I giggled. "She slam-dunked Wonyoung!" 

Mrs. Hye was gushing into the microphone about the record-breaking bid when a big commotion broke out over by Chaeyoung. I spotted Wonyoung's hair, and my first thought was that there was going to be a fight. But instead, Wonyoung and Chaeyoung turned to face Mrs. Hye and called, "One-twenty-two fifty!" 

I choked down a cry. "What?" 

"They're teamin' up," Yizhuo whispered. 

"Oh, no-no-no!" I looked over Sinu's way. 

"Come on, Sinu!" Yizhuo shook her head and said, "She's through," and she was. Minjeong went to Wonyoung and Chaeyoung for one hundred twenty-two dollars and fifty cents.

--

It was a little strange, meeting up with Jeno and walking over to the multi-purpose room for lunch. But he was just so nice, and I think grateful that I'd bid, that by the time we got situated at our table, I wasn't feeling so awkward or silly. It was just lunch. 

Things would have been easier if they hadn't seated me in direct view of Minjeong and her little harem, but I did my best to ignore them. Jeno told me all about this radio-controlled airplane that he and his dad were building from scratch, and how he'd been working on it for nearly three months, and that over the weekend they were finally going to get to try it out. He told me a funny story about soldering the wires wrong and practically starting a fire in their basement, and I asked him about how a radio-controlled airplane works because I didn't really understand it.

So I'd relaxed a lot and was actually having a good time eating lunch with Jeno. And I was so relievedthat I hadn't bid on Minjeong. What a fool I would have made of myself! Watching Wonyoung and Chaeyoung fawning all over her didn't bother me nearly as much as I thought it would. Really, they lookedridiculous. 

Jeno asked about my family, so I was telling him about my brothers and their band when a huge commotion broke out over at Minjeong's table. Suddenly, Wonyoung and Chaeyoung were rolling on the floor like an enormous furball, smearing each other with food. 

Out of nowhere Minjeong appeared at our table. She grabbed my hand, pulled me a few feet away, and whispered, "Do you like him?" 

I was stunned. 

She held my other hand and asked again, "Do you like him?" 

"You mean Jeno?" 

"Yes!" 

I can't remember what I said. She was looking into my eyes, holding my hands tight, and then she began pulling me towards her. My heart was racing, and her eyes were closing and her face was coming toward mine.... Right there, in front of all the other basket boys and girls, and their dates and the adults, she was going to kiss me.

To kiss me. 

I panicked. I'd been waiting all my life for that kiss, and now? 

I yanked free and ran back to my table, and when I sat down Jeno whispered, "Did she just try to kiss you?" 

I turned my chair away from Minjeong and whispered, "Can we please talk about something else? Anything else?" 

People were whispering and looking my way, and when Jang Wonyoung came back from cleaning up inthe washroom, everyone fell quiet. Her hair looked awful. It was sort of oiled to her scalp and stillhad little chunks of food in it. She glared at me so hard it looked like she was trying to get laserbeams to shoot from her eyes. 

A couple of adults steered her back to her seat, and then everyone started whispering double-speed. And Minjeong didn't even seem to care! She kept trying to come over and talk to me, but either she'd get intercepted by a teacher or I'd dash away from her before she had a chance to say anything. 

When the dismissal bell finally rang, I said a quick goodbye to Jeno and bolted out the door. I couldn't reach my bike fast enough! I was the first one off campus, and I pedaled home so hard it felt as though my lungs would burst. 

Mrs. Lee was out front watering her flower bed and she tried to say something to me, but I just dropped my bike in the driveway and escaped into the house. I certainly didn't want to talk about roosters! 

My mother heard me slamming doors and came to check on me in my room. "Jimin! What'swrong?" 

I flipped over on my bed to face her and wailed, "I am so confused! I don't know what to think or feelor do...!" 

She sat down beside me on the bed and stroked my hair. "Tell me what happened, sweetheart." 

I hesitated, then threw my hands up in the air. "She tried to kiss me!" 

My mother struggled not to let it show, but underneath her composed expression was a growingsmile. She leaned in a little and asked, "Who did?" 

"Minjeong!" 

She hesitated. "But you've always liked her...." 

The doorbell rang. And rang again. My mom started to get up, but I grabbed her arm and said, "Don'tget that!" The bell rang again, and almost right after that there was a loud knocking at the door."Mom, please! Don't get it. That's probably her!" 

"But sweetheart... " 

"I was over her! Completely over her!" 

"Since when?" 

"Since last Friday. After the dinner. If she had vanished from the face of the earth after our dinner at the Kims', I wouldn't have cared!" 

"Why? Did something happen at the dinner that I don't know about?"I threw myself back onto my pillow and said, "It's too complicated, Mom! I... I just can't talk aboutit." 

"My," she said after a moment. "Don't you sound like a teenager." 

"I'm sorry," I whimpered, because I knew I was hurting her feelings. I sat up and said, "Mom, allthose years I liked her? I never really knew her. All I knew was that she had the most beautiful eyesI'd ever seen and that her smile melted my heart like the sun melts butter. But now I know that inside she's a coward and a sneak, so I've got to get over what she's like on the outside!" 

My mother leaned back and crossed her arms. "Well," she said. "Isn't this something." 

"What do you mean?" 

She chewed the side of one cheek, then moved over to chew the other. At last she said, "I shouldn'treally discuss it." 

"Why not?" 

"Because... I just shouldn't. Besides, I can tell there are things you don't feel comfortable discussing with me...." 

We stared at each other a moment, neither of us saying a word. Finally, I looked down and whispered, "When Yunho and I were fixing up the yard, I told him how we didn't own the house and about Uncle Hyunsuk. He must have told the rest of the family, because the day before the Kims' dinner party Ioverheard Minjeong and her friend making cracks about Uncle Hyunsuk at school. I was furious, but I didn'twant you to know because you'd think they were only inviting us over because they felt sorry for us." I looked at her and said, "You just seemed so happy about being invited for dinner." Then I realized something. "And you know, you've seemed happier ever since." 

She held my hand and smiled. "I have a lot to be happy about." Then she sighed and said, "And I already knew they knew about Uncle Hyunsuk. It was fine that you talked about him. He's not a secret or anything." 

I sat up a little. "Wait... how did you know?" 

"Taeyeon told me."I blinked at her. 

"She did? Before the dinner?" 

"No, no. After." She hesitated, then said, "Taeyeon's been over several times this week. She's... she's going through a very rough time." 

"How come?" Mom let out a deep breath and said, "I think you're mature enough to keep this inside these four walls, and I'm only telling you because... because I think it's relevant." 

I held my breath and waited. "Taeyeon and Baekhyun have been having ferocious fights lately."

 "Mr. and Mrs. Kim? What about?" 

Mom sighed. "About everything, it seems." 

"I don't understand." 

Very quietly my mother said, "For the first time in her life, Taeyeon is seeing her husband for what he is. It's twenty years and two children late, but that's what she's doing." She gave me a sad smile. "Taeyeon seems to be going through the same thing you are." 

The phone rang and Mom said, "Let me get that, okay? Your dad said he'd call if he was workingovertime, and that's probably him." 

While she was gone, I remembered what Yunho had said about someone he knew who had neverlearned to look beneath the surface. Had he been talking about his own daughter? And how could thishappen to her after twenty years of marriage? 

When my mother came back, I absently asked, "Is Dad working late?" 

"That wasn't Dad, sweetheart. It was Minjeong." 

I sat straight up. "Now she's calling? I have lived across the street from her for six years and she's never once called me! Is she doing this because she's jealous?" 

"Jealous? Of whom?" So, I gave her the blow-by-blow, beginning with Mrs. Lee, going clear through Yizhuo, the auction, the furball fight, and ending with Minjeong trying to kiss me in front of everybody. She clapped her hands and positively giggled. 

"Mom, it's not funny!" 

She tried to straighten up. "I know, sweetheart, I know." 

"I don't want to wind up like Mrs. Kim!" 

"You don't have to marry the girl, Jimin. Why don't you just listen to what she has to say? Shesounded desperate to talk to you." 

"What could she possibly have to say? She's already tried to blame Beomgyu for what she said about Uncle Hyunsuk, and I'm sorry, but I don't buy it. She's lied to me, she hasn't stood up for me... she's... she'snobody that I want to like. I just need some time to get over all those years of having liked her." 

Mom sat there for the longest time, biting her cheek. Then she said, "People do change, you know. Maybe she's had some revelations lately, too. And frankly, anyone who tries to kiss a girl in front of a room full of other kids does not sound like a coward to me." She stroked my hair and whispered, "Maybe there's more to Kim Minjeong than you know." 

Then she left me alone with my thoughts.

--

My mother knew I needed time to think, but Minjeong wouldn't leave me alone. She kept calling on thephone and knocking on the door. She even snuck around the house and tapped on my window! Everytime I turned around, there she was, pestering me. 

I wanted to be able to water the yard in peace. I wanted not to have to avoid her at school or have Yizhuo run block for me. Why didn't she understand that I wasn't interested in what she had to say? Whatcould she possibly have to say? 

Was it so much to ask just to be left alone?

Then this afternoon I was reading a book in the front room with the curtains drawn, hiding from her as I had all week, when I heard a noise in the yard. I peeked outside and there was Minjeong, walking across my grass. Stomping all over my grass! And she was carrying a spade! What was she planning todo with that? 

I flew off the couch and yanked open the door and ran right into my father. "Stop her!" I cried.

"Calm down, Jimin," he said, and eased me back inside. "I gave her permission." 

"Permission! Permission to do what?" I flew back to the window. "She's digging a hole." 

"That's right. I told her she could."

"But why?" 

"I think the girl has a very good idea, that's why." 

"But—" 

"It's not going to kill your grass, Jimin. Just let her do what she's come to do." 

"But what is it? What's she doing?" 

"Watch. You'll figure it out."It was torture seeing her dig up my grass. The hole she was making was enormous! How could myfather let her do this to my yard? 

Minjeong knew I was there, too, because she looked at me once and nodded. No smile, no wave, just a nod. 

She dragged over some potting soil, pierced the bag with the spade, and shoveled dirt into the hole. Then she disappeared. And when she came back, she wrestled a big burlapped root ball across the lawn, the branches of a plant rustling back and forth as she moved. 

My dad joined me on the couch and peeked out the window, too. 

"A tree?" I whispered. "She's planting a tree?" 

"I'd help her, but she says she has to do this herself." 

"Is it a... " The words stuck in my throat.I didn't really need to ask, though, and he knew he didn't need to answer. I could tell from the shape ofthe leaves, from the texture of the trunk. This was a sycamore tree. 

I flipped around on the couch and just sat.

A sycamore tree. 

Minjeong finished planting the tree, watered it, cleaned everything up, and then went home. And I just sat there, not knowing what to do.

I've been sitting here for hours now, just staring out the window at the tree. It may be little now, butit'll grow, day by day. And a hundred years from now it'll reach clear over the rooftops. It'll be milesin the air! Already I can tell—it's going to be an amazing, magnificent tree. 

And I can't help wondering, a hundred years from now will a kid climb it the way I climbed the oneup on Collier Street? Will she see the things I did? Will she feel the way I did? 

Will it change her life the way it changed mine? 

I also can't stop wondering about Minjeong. What has she been trying to tell me? What's she thinkingabout? 

I know she's home because she looks out his window from time to time. A little while ago she put her hand up and waved. And I couldn't help it—I gave a little wave back. 

So maybe I should go over there and thank her for the tree. Maybe we could sit on the porch and talk.It just occurred to me that in all the years we've known each other, we've never done that. Never really talked. 

Maybe my mother's right. Maybe there is more to Kim Minjeong than I know. 

Maybe it's time to meet her in the proper light.

A/N: Aaaaand that's a wrap! This was really such a fun and cute story to convert. Thank you so much for reading and also, for voting!