29 Dates Read online

  JinwOO: Fair, I guess. But you and I—we have the means. Might as well live it up, right?

  Jisu: Right...

  JinwOO: Are you hungry? Maybe we can get some of those finger sandwiches. I’ll ask for a menu—you ord whatever you want.

  Jisu: I’m good with my cappuccino for now. But thanks.

  JinwOO: You sure? The caviar spread is pretty good here.

  Jisu: No, thanks. I don’t really like caviar anyway.

  JinwOO: C’mon. Years down the line, your future grandkids are asking about how you met your husband. High tea at the Shilla Hotel sounds better than coffee at a Starbucks, no?

  Jisu: Husband? Grandkids? You’re thinking an awful far lot ahead. Also, wait, does this mean you get caviar on every seon you go on?

  JinwOO: I’m not saying that I don’t.

  Jisu: Jinwoo, if you have nice things all the time, that kinda takes away from them being nice in the first place. Don’t you think?

  JinwOO: If you’re not hungry, we can at least get some biscotti, right?

  Jisu: Sure, biscotti is fine. Were you playing tennis before you came here?

  JinwOO: Oh, these? These are actually squash rackets. There are a few courts around this neighborhood and I played a game today at the one that they have here.

  Jisu: That’s cool—are you part of your school team?

  JinwOO: No, no. I don’t play at school. I’m part of this small league. Everyone’s a member of the Apgujeong Social Club. We have matches once a week.

  Jisu: Apgujeong Social Club? That’s that all-male club, right? That’s so old-school.

  JinwOO: I know, old-school is the best.

  Jisu: I meant old-school, like in a stuffy way. You’re participating in a literal boys’ club.

  JinwOO: Well, it’s a good way to meet people and network. The person you play squash with might end up being the next president or the wealthiest man in the country.

  Jisu: It’s just squash. It’s just a sport. Jinwoo, do you ever do anything for the sake of doing it? And not for any other reason?

  JinwOO: Hmm. Probably not, but c’mon. That doesn’t make me a bad person.

  Jisu: I never said it did. It’s just that not everything needs to be related to who you are and how much money your family has. Not everything has to be shallow.

  JinwOO: Ah, yes. And that must have been exactly what you thought when you got my one-sheet from Ms. Moon, looked at how much my parents earn, where I go to school, and didn’t immediately turn it down and cancel your services with Ms. Moon in the name of “not being shallow.”

  Jisu: Hey, that’s not fair. My parents are forcing me to go on these seons.

  JinwOO: Forcing you! Wow, I’m so terribly sorry you are being held up against your will to hang out with me. I hope my materialistic tendencies don’t taint your oh-so-altruistic ways.

  Jisu: Jinwoo, please. That’s not what I meant.

  JinwOO: I’m just teasing you, Jisu. Lighten up! Life’s unfair, which means it’s also very lucky for some—like us.

  Jisu: Can we start over?

  JinwOO: Yes—hi, my name is Jinwoo. That is a lovely trench coat you have on—I’m assuming it’s Burberry? It goes so well with your boundless humility.

  Jisu: Jinwoo!

  JinwOO: I’m sorry. I don’t mean to laugh. It’s just too easy to get you riled up. I’ve never met anyone who was so uncomfortable about their money.

  Jisu: It’s not that I’m uncomfortable with it. I just think it’s silly to spend all your money on stuff that screams “I have money!” One day you might end up with nothing but those worthless things.

  JinwOO: Well, if you’re spending your money right on things that are actually nice, it’s not worthless. You know, Birkins are supposed to be an excellent investment?

  Jisu: I did hear that...

  JinwOO: I bet if a guy gave you a Birkin, you’d melt. And you’d bring it everywhere. And whenever anyone complimented you on it, you’d say, “Oh, this? My boyfriend got it for me,” because let’s be honest, that is next-level social currency.

  Jisu: Actually, I don’t even really like Birkins. They’re so stiff and boring-looking. I think I’m more of a shapeless-tote-bag kinda gal.

  JinwOO: Really? I thought all girls liked Birkins.

  Jisu: Not all girls are the same, Jinwoo.

  JinwOO: Of course. I don’t mean to generalize. To each his own, I guess.

  Jisu: Yes, to each his own.

  3

  They spotted her before Jisu could even rub the sleep from her eyes.

  WELCOME Jisu KIM!

  The neon-pink poster was hard to miss. A petite blond-haired woman waved it around enthusiastically. This must be my mother’s newest spy, Linda Murray, reporting for duty. She was wearing a white turtleneck, blue jeans and a Patagonia fleece. Simple and polished. The young girl standing next to Mrs. Murray had her arms crossed and looked less than enthused. She kept her headphones in and rolled her eyes as Jisu approached them. And this must be her thirteen-year-old daughter, Mandy.

  Jisu did her best to shake off the flight fatigue. Sunshine spilled through the glass windows and into the airport. All the small coffee shops lined up along the arrivals area were brimming with customers. It looked and felt like morning. Was it morning? You could never really tell the time of day at an airport.

  “Hi, Mrs. Murray! And you must be Mandy,” Jisu said. Mandy remained still, with her arms still crossed. The bratty teen wants nothing to do with me. Noted.

  “Please, call me Linda! And my goodness, a ten-hour flight! I can’t imagine being on a plane for that long.” Linda grabbed one of Jisu’s bags. “You must be exhausted.”

  “Oh, it wasn’t so bad,” Jisu lied and thought about all the packets of tissues she’d gone through as she cried across the Pacific. “I watched a few movies until I fell asleep.”

  “Well, I had to miss a very important livestream to come here,” Mandy quipped.

  “Mandy! Don’t be rude to our new guest,” Linda snapped at her daughter and handed her Jisu’s other duffel bag. “My husband, Jeff, would’ve joined us but he’s away on a business trip. You’ll meet him in a couple weeks, when he’s back.”

  “Next week, when I’ll miss another Jake & Jimmy livestream,” Mandy huffed.

  “Jake & Jimmy? I didn’t realize they were having one today. Did I miss their fall look tutorial?”

  Jake & Jimmy were one of YouTube’s top makeup vloggers. The sixteen-year-old twins from upstate New York had been constantly bullied at school but found a safe space and huge audience online, where they channeled their passion for makeup into fun, hilarious tutorials. Within months, they had achieved global fame, even reaching viewers in Korea, like Jisu, who sought their help to learn how to properly apply highlighter.

  Mandy’s eyes grew wide.

  “You know about Jake & Jimmy?”

  “Um, yes, of course I do! How else do you think I was able to learn how to do my makeup? My brows were a tragedy before I watched their videos.”

  Linda looked relieved, as if thanking her lucky stars the girls had quickly found something in common. No doubt having two incompatible feuding teenagers in the house would be a total nightmare. Jisu followed her new host family out of the airport.

  * * *

  It was hardly noon when they finally arrived at the house, but Jisu was ready to collapse into bed—any bed—and sleep until she felt like a normal human being again.

  “You need to stay awake for at least another eight hours if you want to shake off that jet lag,” Linda warned. Did all mothers have hawk eyes and a hyperactive sixth sense? Or maybe Jisu did look that exhausted.

  “I won’t fall asleep.” Jisu fought back a yawn.

  “Why don’t I give you a tour of the house? And then you and Mandy can catch up on Jake & Jimmy to keep you awak
e.”

  “I’ll be in my room!” Mandy shouted as she ran up the stairs and disappeared.

  Linda motioned Jisu into the living room. They sat on a chic blue velvet couch in front of a massive marble fireplace. Above it, framed photos of Mandy, Linda and Jeff lined the mantel. A large mirror above the fireplace reflected the bright sunshine into the rest of the house.

  “First, a few house rules,” Linda started as she adjusted some of the framed photos so that they were all angled in the same direction.

  “School starts at 8:30 a.m. sharp, so you and Mandy will be waking up at 7:00 a.m. every morning. Since the Wick-Helmering High School building is right next to the middle school, you’ll have rides to school. But if you have any club meetings or activities after school, you’re responsible for getting back home.”

  Jisu’s eyelids grew heavier and heavier. She sat up straight and resisted the urge to slump into the plush couch.

  “Of course, we’ll provide food—I pack Mandy’s lunch each morning and can put something together for you also. You’ll get the guest bathroom to yourself, and I do expect you to keep your space cleaned routinely. We are welcoming you into our home and family, but this is not a hotel.” Linda paced left and right as she spoke, as if she had run a boardinghouse in a past life.

  “Any questions?” Linda smiled. Clearly she ran a tight ship. There wasn’t a speck of dust to be seen on any surface, and everything from the furniture to the art and fashion books on the coffee table were neatly arranged.

  Of all things, the stark cleanliness and organization made Jisu feel her first pang of homesickness. Mrs. Kim probably would welcome an international student into their home with the same semi-confusing mix of wide-open arms and strict rules and expectations. Sure, there was a lot to be bitter about—her parents had shipped her across the ocean to an entirely different country without warning—but they were her parents, and Jisu was already starting to miss them dearly.

  After the rundown of the house rules, Linda showed Jisu the downstairs and then brought her to her new room and left her to unpack. Jisu gingerly lifted her camera and equipment from her suitcase and carefully removed the bubble wrap. No cracks or smudges. Phew.

  If there was anything good about this sudden uprooting, it was the fact that she now had a whole new city to explore and so many pictures to take. Her parents were thousands of miles away and couldn’t breathe down her neck like they used to. Although who knew how closely they were having Linda watch her? Parents could always conspire among themselves. You never knew.

  Jisu’s phone buzzed. It was an early-morning group text from her parents in Seoul. Of course they were already up and checking on her.

  APPA: Did our Jisu land safely in San Francisco?

  JISU: Hi, Umma & Appa. Landed safely, met with Mrs. Murray and I’m now in my new room, unpacking.

  UMMA: Don’t fall asleep until it’s nighttime! You need to get rid of jet lag before school starts. And make sure to review your class schedule and ask Ms. Murray any questions you have...

  The list of reminders went on and on. At least now that she was in San Francisco, Jisu could shut her parents out simply by muting the group chat.

  Meanwhile, the group chat with Eunice and Minjung had been flooded with sad, teary, crying, bawling emojis. Jisu laughed at the ridiculous display as she scrolled down, but the sadness quickly returned when the reality of their separation set in.

  MIN: Jisu-ya, Euni & I promise to video chat you every week and fill you in on school gossip. I can’t promise that we won’t have fun without you just because you’re gone, but we will definitely tell you everything that happens!

  EUNI: What Min is trying to say is that she’s going to miss you a lot...

  MIN: Eunice—that is what I said! Jisu, we are devastated. Please flunk out of Wick-whatever school you’re attending and maybe your parents will move you back.

  EUNI: Okay, definitely don’t purposely flunk out. Min, how do you only have terrible ideas...

  MIN: Well, the smoky eye I practiced on you last week wasn’t such a bad idea, was it? You loved it!

  EUNI: Anyway. Jisu—what we’re trying to say is we love you and know you will be great! Fighting!

  It was almost more painful to have a constant virtual connection with your dearest friends if you couldn’t actually be with them.

  And then there was an email from the matchmaker.

  Dear Jisu,

  Please let me know when you have settled into your new home. Our global services extend to eight major cities in the US, including San Francisco and the general Bay Area. We can be ready to set you up as early as next Monday. Wishing you a smooth transition.

  Warmly,

  Ms. Moon

  That was quick. Clearly Mrs. Kim had wasted no time and was getting every cent’s worth of Ms. Moon’s pricey services.

  “You literally just landed in America. Who is already texting you?”

  Jisu hadn’t noticed Mandy standing by her bedroom door. She quickly closed out of her email and messages and tossed her phone onto the bed.

  “Oh, just my friends back home and my stupid matchmaker.”

  “You have a matchmaker? Like a real professional? Is that what people in Korea do?” Mandy plopped herself onto Jisu’s chair.

  Ugh, why did I slip and mention the matchmaker? Now I have to explain the whole thing.

  “No, not everyone. My parents hired this matchmaker to send me off on seons, which basically means arranged dates in Korean.”

  “So, is that what everyone in your school did?” Mandy asked.

  “Honestly, there are just a few people in my class whose parents are well-off and also crazy enough to pay as much as they do to get their kids set up. That includes my parents. They want me to find a boyfriend that I can become serious with throughout college and then settle down with. It’s like having a five-year plan but for love and partnership.”

  “Hmm,” Mandy pondered. “Honestly, that sounds kinda nice.”

  “Really? You don’t think it’s weird? It felt too forced to me initially. And it still does to me a bit. The process just feels so...clinical. And once you go on date after date, it gets tiresome. I’d rather meet someone organically, you know?”

  “Okay, but just because you meet someone you like doesn’t guarantee you get a date with them. At least your dates are actually happening with all these different guys.”

  “Trust me, Mandy, I’ve gone on seons all summer. After the fifth one, they start to blur into the same person. I swear, if I have to chitchat with another boy about the weather or college applications, I’m going to stab my eyes out.”

  “They can’t all be bad. And you must have some good stories.”

  Jisu laughed. What did this middle schooler know about boys and dating?

  “Well, you’re not wrong. And I’ve actually become friends with some of them. They’re not all romantic matches, but I realized that once you stop obsessing over your life plans, it really is just nice to get to know someone.”

  “Okay, so these seons...” Mandy said. “Does that mean that every dude you’ve gone on a seon with is your boyfriend? Since it’s so serious?”

  “Oh, my god, no. Not at all! Boyfriend is way too serious a term. I’ve had zero boyfriends. The seons are just dates.”

  “But the dates sound really intense. Plus, a handful of dates makes a boyfriend.”

  “Says who?”

  Mandy scurried out of the room and returned with a pile of her own magazines. “Says everyone.” She spread them on the ground and rummaged through them until she found the one she was looking for. “Look, this one has a quiz that’s literally titled, ‘So You’ve Been Dating—Is He Your Boyfriend?’”

  “Those quizzes are silly. They don’t really mean anything.”

  Mandy ignored Jisu and started reading the questions
.

  “‘Do your parents know about him and vice versa? Have you guys talked about your future plans—career, children, etc.? Have you discussed politics?’”

  “Okay, so technically, my answers for those questions are yes—”

  “For each guy you dated?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Okay, so how many seons have you gone on this summer?”

  “Not that many...” Jisu stammered. “More than ten, I think? No more than fifteen.”

  “At least ten? That means you’ve had at least ten boyfriends, Jisu! Wow. And none of them were good enough for you. Queen.” A mischievous grin stretched across Mandy’s face.

  “Okay, no. It’s not like that at all. And it’s different here! I’m not going to walk into school as the new girl and tell everyone I’m looking for my fifteenth boyfriend.”

  “Well, thirteen is an unlucky number, so you wouldn’t want that anyway,” Mandy said.

  “Four is the most unlucky number in Korea. It means death. And nine is unlucky, too, but for me personally, it’s the unluckiest,” Jisu said.

  “Why nine? Was boyfriend number nine the one that got away?” Mandy giggled.

  “No, Mandy! It’s not all about boys. Also, you’re thirteen—how would you even know what ‘the one that got away’ means?”

  Mandy shrugged and pointed to the magazine in her hand. “At least I know how many boyfriends I’ve had,” she said.

  “Oh, do you? And how many would that be?”

  “Just one.” Mandy smiled sheepishly. “But he’s not my boyfriend anymore. And don’t tell my mom! She says I can’t date until I’m in high school. Dad says I can’t date until I’m thirty, but then Mom will tell him that’s sexist and I have my own autonomy—but just not until high school.”

  Mandy gathered her magazines from the floor.

  “Anyway, Mom and I are going shopping tomorrow. She promised to get me a new bag for the school year. You should come with us!”

  “Maybe I can bring these guys with me.” Jisu placed a hand on her cameras. She closed her eyes and imagined herself shooting the streets of San Francisco.