The Top Student Hides Her Regression
Chapter 11
The Number One Student Hides Her Regression
“I’m sorry, students. My hand slipped…”
“What the hell, that’s hilarious. Why are you dropping honorifics with us?”
“Right? Since when do you know us to talk down to us? Lady, do you know us?”
“You just sell tteokbokki in a market, acting like a big shot just because you’re an adult. What are you, an old boomer?”
“…I’m sorry, students.”
“Not ‘I’m sorry,’ it’s ‘I apologize.’”
Mom didn’t reply to Song Yeo-reum, who spoke as if lecturing someone simple-minded.
Watching Mom wipe up the spilled broth from the floor with a rag, pretending not to hear, Song Yeo-reum and her crowd giggled once more.
“Hey, hey. Record it, record it.”
They shoved their phone cameras right in her face.
Pretending not to hear while kids not even half her age humiliated her like this was the best Mom could do.
“Ah, so when are you giving us wet wipes?”
“Shouldn’t you wipe these shoes for us?”
No, but seriously.
Messing with someone’s parents crosses the line, doesn’t it?
“…Students, I was trying to let it slide… but earlier, you stuck your leg out in my path as I was walking by. I tried to avoid it, but you stretched your leg out, and your foot caught my shin… That’s why I tripped.”
“Wow, she says she let it slide. Anyone listening would think this market lady was doing us a favor.”
“Who asked you to hold back? Go ahead, don’t.”
“Hey, Song Yeo-reum.”
I cut in, interrupting them.
“Did you trip my mom?”
I tried to ask without showing any agitation, but my voice trembled violently. Song Yeo-reum sneered at me and spoke.
“What if I did?”
“…”
“What if I did, huh? You gonna call the police?”
“…”
“You can’t. It’s not like this crappy little shop has CCTV.”
Go ahead and try calling them, Song Yeo-reum sneered, shoving her face forward with a grin.
“…”
If I were twenty-nine, I really would have called the police.
I would have reported them for property damage and obstruction of business, summoned their legal guardians, extracted compensation for damages including the broken dishes, and given them an earful to raise their kids properly.
I would have taught them what it felt like to watch their parents suffer humiliation because of them.
People say kids like that wear getting dragged to the police station like a badge of honor and aren’t scared of their parents showing up?
‘You’ll only know once you try.’
When faced with actually becoming a criminal, surprisingly few local neighborhood delinquents stay calm.
Most of them end up hiding behind the very parents they treated like dirt, unable to even stammer out their own three-syllable name properly.
I definitely would have done that.
If I were twenty-nine.
‘But I’m eighteen right now.’
Even if I made a fuss with my phone trying to report them, Mom wouldn’t take my side; she’d stop me, asking why I was calling the police over something like this, and the officers would dismiss me just because I was a student.
‘It’s not like I haven’t been through that before. It was the same on the day of the CSAT.’
When I came to report that grandfather from the morning with my face all swollen, they told me, “It seems you’re very upset because you messed up your exam, so calm down and go home to rest for now…”
…Wait a minute.
Dismissed because I’m a student?
“Damn it, how do you tag the location on this? I want to post it on our school page.”
Wearing a flashy hoodie that looked utterly tacky to my eyes, Song Yeoreum’s lackey giggled. The camera on her white smartphone, fitted with a pink bunny-ear case, openly targeted Mom and me.
I popped open the cola can rolling on the floor and poured it over that expensive phone, which was clearly brand new.
“Agh!”
Startled, the lackey dropped the phone and jumped to her feet.
“Fuck! What the hell?!”
“Hey! Are you crazy?!”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…”
Pale as a sheet, the lackey frantically stripped off the case and tried to turn the phone on, but the power had already died.
To break so quickly. Smartphones from ten years ago must not have had water resistance.
Anyway.
‘To have no word other than “fuck” to express her flustered emotions. What a poor vocabulary.’
Does a person become calm when they get excessively angry?
While I was calmly thinking such thoughts, Song Yeo-reum sprang to her feet.
The expensive shoes Song Yeo-reum had been bragging about were now ruined, drenched in the cola and tteokbokki sauce dripping from the table.
They certainly were in no state to be called new anymore.
“Hey, Kang Da-hye…”
Song Yeo-reum’s voice trembled violently as she called my name. Just like mine had earlier.
“These cost over a million won. You think you can afford to compensate me?”
I replied casually to the stunned Song Yeo-reum.
“Why should I have to pay you back for that?”
“…What?”
“Do you have proof? Your shoes. Her phone. Do you have proof that I ruined them? Just like you said, it’s not like there’s CCTV here.”
“What the…”
“I’m not paying a single cent. If you feel wronged, why don’t you call the police yourself?”
I asked if her phone had just broken too, and offered mine, telling her she could use it to call them. To Song Yeo-reum, who didn’t take it, I explained slowly.
As if lecturing someone simple-minded.
“You always called me pathetic, a loser. But what looks like a loser to your eyes looks diligent to adults.”
No matter how much the police ignore students, it’ll be different when there’s a point of comparison.
“If you call the police, I’ll deny everything and say I never did it. I’ll say you were the ones who barged into our shop and caused a scene. Me, wearing my school uniform to help my mom’s shop at this hour, versus you, looking like a troublemaker at a glance. Whose word do you think the police will believe?”
With no evidence, it would be a 100% battle of credibility.
“Go on, call them. I’m dying to find out.”
I said with a smile.
Seeing me smirk and taunt her, Song Yeo-reum was the first to lose her temper.
What happened next was, well, as expected.
‘Hey, I really can’t get dragged to the police station again.’ Song Yeo-reum’s other, relatively quieter lackey held back the raging Song Yeo-reum, and as the shop grew noisy, neighboring merchants swarmed in and practically chased Song Yeo-reum’s gang out.
I called out to Song Yeo-reum as she stormed out, fuming.
“Pay up before you go. 21,500 won.”
21,500 won by today’s prices. They ordered a ton just to mess with my mom.
“What?”
“Out of the kindness of my heart, I won’t charge you for the broken dishes, okay?”
Ah, and one more thing.
“If a little tteokbokki sauce turning your shoes a mess makes you turn pale like that, it means they were never an amount you could actually afford in the first place. You learned your lesson this time, so don’t buy them next time.”
“Kang Da-hye, even so, to a customer…”
“They’re only customers if they bring a profit. How are those kids customers? All they did was break dishes.”
“Even so, pouring cola on them? If you act like that, you become no different from them.”
“No, Mom, how is the person who struck first the same as the person who fought back? By that logic, are the Japanese invaders and General Yi Sun-sin the same?”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“Ah, forget it. Go on in. Go inside and get some rest.”
I pushed Mom’s back, forcing her inside into the back kitchen.
I set the tables upright and mopped the floor. After roughly cleaning everything up, I went inside to find Mom sitting blankly in front of the refrigerator.
As I walked over, making noise on purpose, Mom wiped her eyes with the palm of her hand and stood up.
Wiping her wet hands on her apron, Mom asked as if nothing was wrong.
“Did you eat?”
“I’m about to. What about you, Mom? Have you eaten?”
“You eat. Mom’s fine.”
“Come on, I came here to eat with you. Mom, by any chance do you know Rose Tteokbokki? Rose Tteokbokki?”
“Rose what?”
“Just wait. I’ll make it for you.”
After that, it was quiet.
Mom kept her head bowed with a gloomy expression the entire time, even while I busied myself buying ingredients from the supermarket next door and cooking the tteokbokki, all the way until we sat across from each other at the table with the finished dish before us.
“…It’s delicious.”
“Right?”
And then, silence again.
I pushed the quail eggs I had greedily thrown in onto Mom’s plate and changed the subject.
“Mom, later… when I get into a good university and make lots of money. Let’s travel abroad together.”
“Travel abroad, of all things.”
“Let’s go. Somewhere really far away. How about America? Mom, have you ever been to America?”
“As if I could have. Just hurry up and eat.”
“Let’s fly business class. I’ll make a lot of money and treat you to a seat.”
When I blustered about making tons of money and doing this and that for her, only then did Mom let out a small chuckle.
“I mean it. I’ll make sure you live in luxury.”
“It’s Mom who should give you a good life. You just take care of yourself and live well.”
“…”
“Mom’s sorry she couldn’t provide what everyone else gets.”
Drip.
A tear fell onto the back of Mom’s hand as she held her chopsticks.
“My daughter is so smart. You have so many dreams and so many things you want to do. If only you’d been born into a different family, you would have been so much happier than you are now.”
What’s with this sudden gloomy atmosphere…?
“…That’s right, I have a lot of things I want to do.”
I want to ride an airplane.
I want to buy fish and chips from the shop with the blue sign on Sydney Beach, where Seo Jae-gyeom went during winter break.
I want to place a very, very finicky and complicated order at a cafe in Manhattan where both customers and staff speak fast.
Succeeding on my own merits is one of those things I want to do, too.
“Like you said, Mom, I’m smart, so I can pull it off all on my own even without your help.”
In this second life I’ve been given, I’m going to do everything without giving up. Everything I ever wanted.
“So instead of feeling sorry, cheer me on. To give me strength.”
“…Alright.”
“Mom, but isn’t this seriously good? Should we sell this as a new menu item? Rose Tteokbokki.”
“No thanks. It’s not that good.”
“Seriously?”
The next day.
“Ah, I didn’t get money for my workbooks.”
Yesterday wasn’t an atmosphere where I could bring up asking for money…
Let’s see. First.
“I should ask Jisu if it’s okay for the three of us to eat together with Doyeon…”
Since Jisu is nice, I’m sure she’ll say it’s fine, but I should still ask.
Thinking such thoughts, I crossed the crosswalk. As soon as I turned onto the uphill path leading to the school gate, I spotted a familiar silhouette from behind.
“Oh, it’s Jisu.”
Speak of the devil.
I went to raise my hand and call out to her happily, but paused.
Seo Jae-gyeom was walking alongside Jisu.
Seo Jae-gyeom was naturally carrying Jisu’s large bag. Their eyes met, and Seo Jae-gyeom said something with a curl of his lips.
Laughter burst from Jisu.
