Chapter 1: Snack Heist and Stolen Kisses
The late afternoon sun cut through the oak trees, dappling the concrete of the quad in shifting patterns of gold and shadow. The air smelled of freshly cut grass, greasy fries from the campus cart, and the faint, ever-present note of exhaustion. Lisa stretched her long legs out on the worn picnic blanket, tipping her face up to the warmth.
“You’re going to regret that,” Rose said, not looking up from her textbook.
“Regret what?” Lisa’s voice was all innocence, her hand frozen midway to the plastic container between them.
“Taking the last roll of my kimbap. I saw your eyes calculate the trajectory. Don’t.”
Lisa’s fingers darted in, seizing the cylinder of rice and seaweed with a triumphant cackle. She shoved half of it into her mouth, cheeks bulging. “Too late.”
Rose sighed, a fond, exasperated sound, and dipped a tteokbokki stick into its bright red sauce. With a flick of her wrist, a single, glossy droplet sailed through the air and landed with a perfect plip on the front of Lisa’s white tank top.
Lisa looked down at the scarlet blotch, then back at Rose, who was now chewing placidly. A snort of laughter escaped her, which turned into a cough as she tried to swallow the enormous bite of kimbap. She wheezed, pounding her own chest.
“Serves you right, thief,” Rose said, her blonde hair a curtain as she leaned forward to hand Lisa her water bottle.
Lisa drank, clearing her throat. “You’re violent. Jisoo should be warned.”
“Jisoo finds my violent tendencies charming.” Rose finally closed her book, her brown eyes softening as she studied her best friend. “Speaking of significant others… how’s Somi? You’ve been weirdly quiet about your date last night.”
The easy grin on Lisa’s face tightened at the edges. She picked at a thread on the blanket. The noise of the quad—the laughter from the fountain, the yells from a frisbee game—seemed to swell for a moment. “Somi’s… Somi. You know.”
“I know she’s a lot. In a good way. Usually.” Rose’s tone was careful, an open door.
Lisa shrugged, her toned shoulders rolling under the thin straps of her tank. “Hot girls are stressful.” She said it like a joke, but it landed flat between them.
Before Rose could probe further, a new scent cut through the air—vanilla and something sharper, like expensive gin. A shadow fell over the blanket.
“Stressing about me, baby?”
Somi stood there, backlit by the sun, a vision in a cropped denim jacket and high-waisted shorts that showed off her endless legs. Her smile was a beam of pure, confident energy, but her eyes, as they locked onto Lisa, held a possessiveness that felt like a physical touch.
Lisa’s spine straightened. “Somi. Hey.” The words came out a little breathless.
“Hey yourself.” Somi ignored Rose completely, stepping onto the blanket and kneeling in one fluid motion. She cradled Lisa’s face in both hands, her thumbs stroking the apples of her cheeks. “Missed you.”
The kiss wasn’t a hello. It was a declaration. Somi’s lips captured Lisa’s with a practiced, consuming pressure, one hand sliding back to tangle in Lisa’s shoulder-length black hair, angling her head. Lisa stiffened for a microsecond, a flush of heat crawling up her neck, before she melted into it, a habitual response to Somi’s overwhelming certainty. The world shrank to the scent of vanilla, the soft press of Somi’s mouth, the faint sound of a catcall from somewhere near the coffee stand.
Rose looked away, taking a long, deliberate sip of her soda. When she looked back, her expression was neutral.
Somi pulled back, leaving Lisa blinking and beet-red. “There,” she whispered, her lips brushing Lisa’s ear. “All better.”
“Get a room!” someone yelled from a passing group.
Somi just laughed, a bright, ringing sound, and finally acknowledged Rose. “Hey, Chaeyoung. Feeding my girl your sad little cafeteria snacks?”
“Just keeping her alive until you swooped in,” Rose said, her voice dry. She flicked the tab on her soda can. The snap-hiss was oddly loud.
Somi settled on the blanket, wrapping herself around Lisa’s arm, her head on Lisa’s shoulder. “So, what were you two gossiping about?”
“You, apparently,” Rose said, a glint in her eye. “Lisa was just saying how stressful you are.”
Lisa shot Rose a shut up look.
Somi’s grip on Lisa’s arm tightened slightly, but her smile didn’t waver. “Is that right? I think I just proved how good I am at destressing her.” She nuzzled into Lisa’s neck. “Right, Lili?”
The nickname, one Lisa had once found sweet, now felt like a leash. “Right,” she mumbled.
Across the quad, near the arched entrance to the Fine Arts building, a figure paused. Jennie Kim, a senior from Lisa’s advanced choreography seminar, was shrugging a leather jacket over her shoulders. Her gaze swept the crowd, lingering for a fractured second on the tableau on the blanket—on Lisa, pinned and flushed under Somi’s attention. Something unreadable passed over Jennie’s sharp features. Then she turned and disappeared into the stream of students heading for the parking lot.
Lisa saw her. A flicker of something—recognition, a longing for the uncomplicated silence of the dance studio—passed through her before Somi’s voice pulled her back.
“You’re zoning out. Thinking about that boring econ paper?”
“Dance theory, actually,” Lisa said, the truth a small rebellion.
“Even worse.” Somi sighed, her breath warm against Lisa’s skin. “Forget it. My place tonight. I’ll cook. I want you to myself.”
It wasn’t a question. Rose met Lisa’s eyes over Somi’s head. The question was clear in her raised brow: You okay?
Lisa gave a tiny, almost imperceptible shake of her head. Then she smiled down at her girlfriend, pushing the unease down, down, down where it couldn’t spoil the picture. “Yeah. Sounds good.”
But as Somi chattered about a new song she wanted them to hear, Lisa’s eyes drifted back to the empty space near the Arts building arch. The space where, for a second, she hadn’t felt like a prize on display. The stain on her shirt, a drop of spicy red, felt like a warning she couldn’t quite decipher.