San watched as Wonyoung picked a huge tortilla chip from the wooden bowl, covered it lavishly with salsa, and dropped it whole into her mouth. "Mmm, good," she said, crunching loudly.
"How ladylike," said San sarcastically, thinking of Mingi and his perfect good manners.
Wonyoung batted her eyelashes at him and grabbed a few more chips. San and Wonyoung were sitting on the plush carpet of the Choi's luxurious living room.
Earlier that day, Wonyoung had cornered San in the hall between classes. "Plan Three, coming up," she had said, and he'd agreed to meet her at his place after school.
"Where's Wooyoung?" San asked, eager for the buffering effect of his preferred twin.
"Oh, she can't make it today. The poor thing's got a backlog of chores to do," Wonyoung said with a self-satisfied smile.
"Terrific," said San. "I guess that makes just the two of us." He picked up the wooden bowl and headed for the kitchen to get more tortilla chips, wondering how much more of Jang Wonyoung he was going to be able to take it.
When San had returned, she was settled on the floor, her knees drawn up and her back leaning against the Choi's leather couch. "Now, what are your mother's favorite flowers?" Wonyoung asked. She had been disappointed when Wooyoung's flowers hadn't been for her, but they'd given her an idea.
"How should I know?" San answered.
"Oh, come on, you must have an idea," Wonyoung prodded. "I mean, you may not be brilliant, but you aren't entirely dense."
San threw her a hostile look.
"What color flower does she like?" asked Wonyoung, taking another tack.
"As if I would know what color flowers my Mother likes!" San exploded.
"Temper, temper," Wonyoung said, making light of his temperamental nature. "Down, boy!"
"Grrr," San growled at her, pulling back his lips and baring his teeth. He grinned in spite of himself.
"Well," said Wonyoung, "would you by chance know what color does your mother like? I mean, I know you've only been living with her for sixteen years."
"Not anymore," San said, his face clouding over. He shook his head quickly and turned his attention back to the problem at hand. "Her favorite color," he said thoughtfully, glancing around the tastefully decorated living room. His mother had spent weeks working with a private designer to furnish the room. It was done primarily in shades of black and gold. The antique gold lamps and embroidered Chinese rugs woven with strands of gold added a subtle, rich hue to the black leather sofas and black lacquer coffee table. "She seems to like gold," he said finally.
"Gold?" asked Wonyoung. "Gold flowers?"
"Well, yellow, then," said San.
"Gold-yellow flowers," Wonyoung mused, considering. "Goldenrod!" she exclaimed suddenly.
"What's goldenrod?" asked San.
"They're flowers, you idiot. Yellow flowers," Wonyoung said, exasperated. "We're going to have strong, sensitive Siwon send mushy Jessie some goldenrod,"
she explained. "Cancers are romantic and determined, Aries are emotional. So if your father makes a romantic gesture and sends your emotional mother flowers..."
San looked at her skeptically. "You think she'd buy it?"
"Aries are totally impulsive," Wonyoung said with certainty. "They love spontaneity."
"You think some dumb flowers are going to sway my mother?" San asked, unconvinced.
"Not some, San-dugo. Lots and lots of flowers. We'll fill her house with flowers," Wonyoung said, waving her arms around enthusiastically.
"Now, that sounds more like my father," said San. "When he does something, he does it to the hilt. He always goes all-out."
Wonyoung had already jumped up and was punching numbers on the sleek black phone. "Yes, hello," she was saying. "We're interested in ordering some flowers. Do you carry goldenrod?"
"They've got it!" Wonyoung whispered to San, handing him the phone.
"Uh, hello? said San. "Yes, that's right. Goldenrod... My name? Choi Siwon... Yes, please include a card.... How many do we want? Well, how many have you got?... Uh, we'll take them all."