I nervously waited for Sofia to show up to our first study session. I paced the study room, making sure that everything looked presentable. The room was not very big, but certainly spacious compared to the majority of other study rooms, which were mere cubicles crammed with a small table and four chairs. Study rooms were not allowed to have window coverings, but the large window in this room had vertical blinds. My parents' generous donations to the university allowed my friends and I to have our personal study room with privacy. I thought about closing the blinds, but reconsidered because it might send the wrong message to Sofia. She might think that I had other things on my mind besides studying.
When she walked in, she immediately commented on the room. I said nothing because I was nervous about being with her. I couldn't remember the last time I was so tongue-tied when speaking with a girl, but all I could focus on was the smoothness of her skin, the fluttering of her eyelashes, the silkiness of her voice...
"Is something funny?" I heard her ask.
...the sharpness of her perception.
I immediately stopped smiling and opened up my books. "No. Sit." I answered her questions in terse monosyllables like a fool. I was sure she'd think I was an idiot, but all she did was nod and look down at our notes. She said I had done an outstanding job and pushed her notebook toward me asking for help on some calculation, but I had trouble focusing on the page because I was distracted by her presence. After a few minutes, my concentration returned, and we settled into our studying.
"It's getting late," she said after a while.
I looked up in confusion and checked my watch. "It's only been an hour."
"I have to go to work. Some of us have ordinary jobs, you know. Tell me, that Oris watch cost about two thousand dollars, right?" Her gaze was piercing.
I heard reproach in her voice and wondered why she was upset. I glanced at my watch. "Uh, maybe. Why? What does that have to do with anything?"
"And I'll bet that's just your everyday watch." She was frowning. "Who exactly are you? What do you do? Do you care about this class at all, or do your other interests take up your time?"
"Wait. Other interests?" I wasn't sure what she was getting at.
She exhaled with impatience. "Look. It's none of my business what you do for money, but if we're going to be lab partners, I need to know that you will be reliable. This means a lot to me. I've worked very hard to get here, and my scholarship depends on my grades, so if you—"
"If I what?" I interrupted. "What are you talking about?"
"I work at Sarto's. That's how I noticed you're partial to Lacoste and Burberry and expensive watches."
I looked down at my polo shirt, the trademark Burberry check design on the button placket clearly visible. "Oh. Okay. Don't lots of people wear Burberry?"
"No." She sighed impatiently. "And I know those—what? —Tom Ford selvage jeans cost more than I make in a month."
"Tom Ford what?"
"I want to know what game you're playing."
"Game?" I asked. I was completely lost. "What game?"
She exhaled impatiently. "Your apparel indicates that you spend an insane amount of money. So either you are rich or you're not above-board. Either way, it calls your commitment to this class into question. So, I'd like to know the truth."
"You think I'm some kind of criminal?"
She stared at me.
I leaned back on the chair. "The truth. Okay. I'm not a criminal. The truth is my last name is Kim. My name is Kim Seokjin."
She bit her lip in consternation. "Kim? As in...Elite Eight Kim?"
I nodded and waited, searching for that certain gleam that came into a girl's eyes when she realized who I was. I'd seen it too often before, which was why I did not ask too many girls out. I thought she'd be impressed, but Sofia's look remained closed, almost sad.
"Oh, no," she whispered. It was not the reaction I'd been expecting. "Kim. I've heard about you...them—the Royals. People talk about how you—they—have kids who are set for life with their trust funds and all that. The Elite Eight are considered the highest society, right? Like kings and queens. You are aristocracy, I guess. At Sarto's, management bends over backwards for the Royals."
"Yes, I know, but that's not me." Her eyebrows went up. "I mean, yes, I'm Elite Eight, but I don't care about being treated like royalty. I don't care what people call us. That's my family. That's not me. I'm just a regular guy."
"No you're not. You have a multi-million dollar trust fund. That doesn't sound regular at all. I don't think you have any idea about how to be a regular guy. Look at you!" She exhaled and looked away. "If we speak to Dr. Boyd, maybe we can get different lab partners."
"No!" I felt a sense of panic. I didn't want to lose her before I'd even gotten to know her. "Why? I don't understand. Why do we need different partners?"
"My family does not...consort with the Elite Eight."
"Consort?" I exclaimed, taken aback by the unusual word. "We're lab partners. Is that consorting? You make it sound...nefarious."
She gave me an annoyed look. "Nefarious? Now you're making fun of me."
"No, I'm not," I said. "You just sounded so formal. I felt I had to continue in the same vein."
"Yes, I know. Your superior upper-class education. Fine."
"I didn't mean—"
She interrupted me. "My father will be very unhappy. You don't understand. He will never let me work with you. We need to try and get different partners."
"We don't have to do that," I said. "We're adults, aren't we? Besides, I don't have to work with your father, do I? I think we can be civil and work together. It can't be that big of a deal."
"It doesn't matter if we can be civil. It's not about that. My father will not agree." She paused and took a breath. "I'm a Galvez. Do you know what that means?"
My mind raced to bring up any information I had heard about her family. Galvez. From the Spanish settlers that were here before the Elite Eight. Original Spanish land grant. Claimed the Elites stole their land. My father had once told me that the Galvez family was staunchly against us—sometimes violently so. "Yes, I know the name."
"Then you know that we can never be friends."
"That's so far in the past," I said slowly. "Most people don't even know or care about the old grudges. Nobody cares about that anymore. Ancient history."
She shook her head. "No, it's not ancient history. My father cares. He cares very much, and it is not ancient history to him. I can't disappoint him this way. You don't understand."
"Sofia, I know the stories. That happened generations ago—if it happened—"
"If?" she exclaimed. "You see! You don't understand at all. My father told me what happened in the past, and you are just dismissing it."
"Because it has nothing to do with us," I continued. "You haven't given it a chance. You haven't given me a chance. I am sorry that your father hates the Elites, and he might have a very good reason—historical or otherwise, but what does that have to do with our working together? Can't we at least discuss this?"
She gave a sullen shrug. "You lied to me."
"How? I didn't lie!"
"A lie of omission is still a lie. You should have told me you were a Royal." She closed her eyes and shook her head. "Lying is a terrible thing to do."
"What? Am I a horrible person now?" I asked disbelievingly. "You've got this all wrong. I am not the enemy here. I'm not deliberately dishonest. I mean, you didn't tell me you were a Galvez. You didn't consider the toll that would take on me," I retorted. "And I'm not holding that against you."
She pressed her lips together before allowing them to curl up in a smile. "Now... that's ridiculous." But I sensed a lightening of the mood. She was not angry anymore.
"Sorry," I said. "I don't want a new lab partner. We'll be so far behind, and the class is difficult enough as it is. I don't want to fail or get a low grade. I thought we were off to a good start. We are both dedicated to doing our best in this class, right? Please don't judge me on what my ancestors may or may not have done. Would you please give me a chance?"
"I know very little about you, other than you're wealthy, you're in pre-med, and apparently you've got a strange sense of humor. I suppose it would be most ungenerous of me to hold the past against you. None of us are perfect."
I studied her face intently. Her words sounded so stilted, but her face was sincere, and her voice had lost its hostile edge.
"Thank you," I murmured. Then something else came into my mind, and I said, "I can speak a little bit of Spanish."
"You can?" Her eyes were wide.
"Sí. Solo un poco. Surprised?" I waited for a moment then added: "Will your father approve now?"
"No. And in Spanish: no."
I smiled. "You're funny. Well, it was worth a shot. I expect we can work well together. Anyway, we are just studying organic chem, you know."
"I know." She gathered up her books and papers. "I will...figure this out. I guess we should get back to work."
I smiled. "All right." I was pleased that she had changed her mind about studying with me. I noticed that she did not look me in the eye the rest of the afternoon. She kept her head down over her books and notes until we finished the assignment. Then she packed up her things and stood up.
"I better go. I have to work this afternoon."
"I think we got a lot done." I got to my feet and walked her to the door. "Okay. See you in class," I said. "Goodbye."
She nodded. "Yes, maybe everything will work out after all. Bye."
I watched her walk away, wondering what had just happened and why it had affected me so much. She had not been impressed at all about my name or my money. In fact, she had cast me in the villain's role. That made me even more determined to show her that I was not the bad guy in her story. In the back of my mind, I knew that I shouldn't fall for a girl whose family hated me and anyone like me. This might definitely be more trouble than it was worth. But then I remembered her eyes, her smile, and the way I felt when I looked at her. I couldn't help myself. I couldn't stay away from her. I know now that I should have tried harder.
I expected too much. I should've stayed away.