Lia

The moment I step outside the exam room, I whip my phone out to check if I received a text message from Yeju. All I see are messages from RJ wishing me luck on my last midterm exam.

I send a quick reply to her, thanking her and telling her it went well, before going back to Yeju’s text thread and refreshing it three times. 

Nothing.

Next to me, my classmates are trickling out. As usual, they form a small circle to discuss their answers. I try to take part, but I can barely pay attention to them. My mind is too crowded with worries and anticipation about Yeju and her experiment today.

After I told her my idea a few weeks ago, Yeju brought it up to Professor Song, and they had a long discussion where they decided to change the project’s direction. We’ve since switched our daily lab work from growing bacterial mutants to preparing for a “comparative metabolomics” experiment—a term I still struggle to understand despite Yeju’s countless attempts to explain it. All I know is that the experiment looks for molecules made by soil bacteria that would change when Yeju adds the inhibitor. That is one way to reveal the inhibitor’s impact on the community of bacteria living in the soil.

Even though I don’t completely understand the experiment, I’m thrilled that it sprung from my idea. Me and my idea! And I can tell that this new experiment is complicated. Yeju has been spending weeks working towards it, planning, preparing, ordering items. Meanwhile, all I could do were minor tasks like making agar plates—I am a pro at it now, I must add—and maintaining bacteria cultures.

And today is the day. Yeju is finally conducting the long-awaited “comparative metabolomics” experiment. She told me not to come into the lab because I have a midterm, but I know it’s because she doesn’t want any distractions today.

But I want to know if the experiment worked, damn it! 

I refresh the text thread again. No new message.  let out a small groan and put my phone away.

It’s so strange how I am more worried about the result of Yeju’s experiment than the result of my midterm. Is it because I’m confident I’ll do well? But even so, anxiety still ate me up in the past. I’d compare every single answer to everyone’s in the class despite being confident in my answers, and now I find myself walking away after five minutes.

Maybe it’s because my priorities in school are flipped. I’m caring more about a research project than my classes. Or maybe… I really want Yeju to succeed.

The image of her crestfallen expression strikes me once again. The way her entire body slumped as she recounted her terminated mice experiment during the pandemic. That lethargy in her voice as if she was sick of it all. The tiredness in her eyes. 

I sigh. I hope she succeeds.

When I reach the apartment, I decide I should make dinner today. Yeju has been making most of our meals now, especially during this midterm season. But now that my last midterm is over, I should return the favor. I can’t cook half as well as her, but my food is at least edible. I think.

Blasting my songs on my phone, I whip up some kimchi fried rice using the homemade kimchi I grabbed from home. I sing and nod along to the music as rice sizzles in the pan. The familiar aroma of Korean cuisine fills the kitchen.

As I turn off the stove, the door slams open. 

“It worked!” Yeju screams from behind me.

“It worked?” I spin around, already forgetting the food I just finished making. “How? What? Explain!” 

We run towards each other, and when Yeju reaches me, she wraps her arms around my waist, lifts me up from the ground, and exclaims, “It fucking worked!”

She is jumping up and down, and I am bouncing along with her in the air.

“Yeju!” I laugh as I hug her neck to stop myself from falling. “Put me down!”

She does so, placing me in front of the kitchen counter, but her hands remain on my waist. 

“I did some quick analysis and there’s multiple peak shifts, Lia, multiple. Some of them, we predicted, but most of them were new molecules that have never been characterized before. And that was all from a quick analysis, so I’m sure there’s more to discover once I take some time to properly analyze it, but it worked, Lia. It worked too fucking well. Victoria’s going to be so elated.“

I don’t understand what she is talking about, but I don’t need to to know this is the best news ever. After all, I’ve never seen Yeju smiling like that before. My heart soars as I squeal, “That’s awesome, Yeju!”

“Oh my god, I can see the light. The end of this fucking tunnel. Fuck, I think I can try to graduate within the year.” Yeju lifts her hands and clasps them around my face. They are trembling as much as her voice. “Fuck, Lia, this is because of you, you know that? This is all you.”

“What?” I chuckle, trying my best to ignore her minty breath. “I didn’t even do anything.” 

“You gave me this idea, Lia,” she says. She’s no longer smiling now. She’s serious, too serious. And way too close to me. “You’re the best thing that happened to me.”

I take in a shaky breath. My heart is beating so loudly that Yeju must hear it. “That’s… That’s an exaggeration.”

“No. No, it’s not.” Her thumb swipes at my cheek. It’s warm, even to my burning face. “I mean it.”

A pause settles between us. We stare at each other for what feels like both an eternity and a millisecond at the same time. Her eyes are a swirling deep brown, and I find myself lost in them. 

She blinks once, and then she pulls me in for a kiss.

I have never kissed before, and I’m not sure what I was expecting, but this—this—is better than anything I could’ve ever imagined. Her lips are tender, so tender for someone who’s so brash. Her thumbs swirl around my face as she locks me in place. And when our tongues touch, my body dissolves into hers, melting into her tattoos.

The world disappears around me. The kimchi aroma in the air, the blare of my music, the cold kitchen counter pressing on my waist as Yeju leans towards me—they are but a blur around me. 

It’s Yeju and only Yeju.

When she pulls back, her taste still lingers in my mouth. I stare at her, quivering and panting. She stares back at me, her brown eyes glazed with longing. She’s so beautiful. I don’t know why I never noticed that. 

The song on my phone changes to a Taylor Swift song, ‘You Belong With Me’. That seems to jolt Yeju from her trance. Her expression contorts as she peels away from me. A chill instantly runs along my waist.

“Oh my god,” she gasps, “why did I do that?”

“W- What? Why not?” I step towards her. I miss her hands on me. Her warmth. Her breath. “Am I- Am I a bad kisser or something? It’s only my first time. I- I can improve.”

“Your first time…” Yeju looks as though she is choking on those words. She runs her hand across her face and groans. “I am so sorry, Lia.”

“What? Why are you apologizing?” I am frantic now. Why is she backing away from me? One moment she is kissing me, and the next she is running away from me. I don’t understand her. Why can I never understand her?

“Because I don’t fucking deserve you,” she snaps. 

I move forward, closing the gap she keeps creating. “Why would you say that?”

“Because you’re smart and awesome and super fucking hot, that’s why.” She takes a step back at every answer until she backs into the dining table.

“You’re smart and awesome and hot too,” I insist, walking towards her. There is no more space behind her, so we are back to being an inch apart.

“No, I’m not. I’m an asshole,” she grumbles.

“Only when you were stupidly angry at me for no reason. You are very nice when you’re not trying so hard to be an asshole.”

“Are you not afraid I’ll be an asshole to you again?”

“Are you going to be an asshole to me again?” 

She flinches before lowering her head. “No… You don’t deserve that.” 

There is something about her unusually soft tone that sends a flutter down my stomach. I pluck up my courage and inch closer. Our hips touch. 

“Then I don’t see a problem,” I say.

“You’re younger than me.”

“You don’t act your age. I don’t think of you as that much older.” 

She winces at that. “I’m your mentor.” 

“So? You’re not grading me or paying me. You don’t actually hold any power over me. Professor Song calls all the shots here.”

She chews on her lips, obviously nothing to say to that. “I’m… a giant red flag.” 

My lips curl into a teasing smirk. “What if I say I’m attracted to red flags?” 

Letting out an exasperated sigh, she lifts her head and cups my face. My smile widens at the contact that I’ve missed. Her hands are so warm. So safe.

“You shouldn’t, Lia,” she says. “You should be with someone who will treat you right.”

“Then treat me right.” 

I move even closer now, sliding my legs between hers. She sucks in a breath, and I can feel her shivering. I make her as nervous as she makes me, and there’s nothing more emboldening than that knowledge.

I don’t understand Yeju, but there is one thing I definitely understand: I want to kiss her again. 

Yeju’s eyes search mine before darting all over my body. I let myself do the same, indulging in the sight of her tattooed arms and round hips—a sight that I was forcing myself not to look at for the past few weeks.

Our eyes meet. Her lips part.

And right when Taylor Swift begins the last explosive chorus of the song, Yeju pulls me in for another kiss.