Almost Lover

Chapter 9 - The News

"Wonhee!!! This is my last clean set of clothes! I don't have anything else to wear. I haven't done any laundry yet."

"Oh my God, Sunmi. I'm so sorry. I was just going to ask you to watch the news. I was too shocked..."

I started breaking down.

I have a weakness: I have very sensitive tear glands that make me cry so easily you'd think I'd be a good dramatic actress because I can cry on cue. I'd cried in almost every movie I watched in the past. I cry when I see other people cry. I cry when I watch sappy commercials. I cry at Hallmark stores reading sentimental passages. I cry when I'm happy. I cry when I'm sad. I cry when I'm scared. I cry when I'm mad. I'm a crybaby and I hate it. I was raised to be strong, and I always got in trouble with the people around me, especially my grandfather, for my stupid sensitivity. I was punished many, many times for crying easily, but I never learned to develop a calloused heart.

"What the heck am I supposed to wear to work now?" I asked, wiping my tears with the coffee-stained paper towels.

"Now, Sunmi, let's not allow bad energy to ruin your day, okay? I'm sure we can find something in my closet."

I knew that Wonhee knew I wasn't just crying because of my clothes. I was crying because of something else.

"Why does it have to be Masami?" Wonhee asked, turning her head back to the living room; images of the happy, newly-engaged couple still plagued our TV. "Is this why Mazuki would never tell us who's Akira's new girlfriend? Because it's Masami?"

I stood up, ignoring Wonhee's questions. "I'm gonna be late. I need to go change now."

"Wonhee, I don't think I will fit into your clothes," I said as I wrestled to close a pair of button-fly pants, the fifth of the bottoms that Wonhee had me try on.

"Oh, zip your mouth. You will," she insisted, helping me wedge into the impossible.

It didn't work out for me, just like the other four that came before it. I tried on her casual clothes since I realized it was Casual Friday, but they were the same story. The next three outfits Wonhee laid out on the bed for me didn't work out either. After Wonhee passed her baby fat stage when we were teenagers, she'd always been a lot smaller than I was.

"Wonhee, what the heck size do you wear? Negative one? None of your clothes fit me!"

"Sunmi, how about these? These are size three-ish..." She handed me a gray skirt and a short-sleeved white shirt.

The gray skirt was the only bottom I could zip even though I had to do a little bit of hoola dancing and kangaroo hopping to squeeze myself in, and the short-sleeved white shirt was the only top that could make me breathe.

"Wonhee, don't you think the skirt is too short?" I asked. The skirt felt too skimpy, but it covered half of my thigh, which Wonhee claimed wasn't too short at all. I didn't know why I allowed myself to believe her. But I only had two choices: the 1980's suit (with enormous shoulder pads) that she wore to Halloween last year or this, the casual but sexy outfit.

Fueled by Wonhee's laudatory remarks of how the latter outfit was "perfect" and that I looked great in it, I chose it over the 1980's suit/costume one.

I made another mistake that morning. In my hurry to go to work, I didn't look at myself in the mirror.

I didn't notice the problem with my outfit until I heard a wolf whistle on my way to the office building and I was faced with a frightening reflection of myself on the glass doors of the building entrance. The problem was – it was a mini-skirt, and I mean mini with a capital M. Plus, the bust of the shirt was a little tight and the neckline was a little too low, showing whatever small cleavage I had.