Sunoo's POV
When the social worker's car pulls to a stop outside of a small blue house, your heart picks up a little bit.
You unbuckle your seatbelt and shove the door open before the social worker has even turned the engine off, and you hear her calling after you as you jog up the front walkway.
A pretty brunette woman opens the door and stands on the front porch. She smiles at you and looks past you to the street, where the car is parked, raising her hand in greeting. But all of that is background noise to you, because you've caught a flash of a pink dress behind the woman, and an instant later Yuna pushes past her and you nearly topple over when the two of you collide.
"Sunoo," she whispers, arms wrapping around your neck. "Sunoo."
The brunette (Yeji, Yuna tells you) confirms the time the social worker will pick you up tonight, and as soon as the car pulls away from the curb you feel like a weight has been lifted. Yuna grabs your hand and guides you into the kitchen, where her other foster mom (Ryujin) is setting out three different kinds of chocolate pudding.
"We weren't sure which was your favorite," she says. She glances at your and Yuna's joined hands and then at Yeji, who's making bug-eyes at Ryujin, looking like she's about to burst. "Oh, wow," you say, and you hate it -- because you wish you were tougher -- but you feel kinda touched.
"I'm not picky. Let's start with the Swiss Miss." "Alright, then," Yeji says, grinning at you as she places two pudding cups and a pair of spoons on the table. You drop Yuna's hand and sit across from her, facing the window. In the reflection of the glass, you see Yeji walk up to Ryujin and press her face into the crook of her neck, like she's stifling a laugh or scream or something. She seems kinda wacky. You like her already.
"Your hair is a lot longer, Yuna," you say. She smiles at you, and when she finishes delicately peeling the foil off the top of the pudding cup she runs a hand through her hair. She finger-brushes a few locks down beside her temple, and then pushes them behind her ear, where they stay put.
She raises her eyebrows and, because you speak Yuna, you know she's saying "see?" "That's awesome," you say. "You'll have it back in a ponytail in no time." Yuna presses her lips together, lashes fluttering, and then she dips her spoon into her pudding. You follow suit, gobbling up your pudding in three bites, and then Ryujin hands you another cup before you even ask.
She and Yeji are sort of puttering about the kitchen, talking quietly with each other to give you and Yuna privacy, but you can tell part of their attention is on the two of you. When Yeji opens the cabinet to get sugar for the pitcher of lemonade she's making you see three boxes of Twinkies piled on one side.
Ryujin squeezes Yuna's shoulder when she pours you each a glass and Yuna leans her head to the side, resting her cheek on her fingers for a few short seconds. Something about those two moments, stacked one on top of the other, hits you like a freight train. You feel breathless with second-hand gratitude. Yeji meets your gaze and gives you a shallow nod, and you think there's thankfulness in her eyes, too.
After you eat, Yuna shows you her treehouse. You've heard a lot about it over the walkie-talkie -- how Yeji and Ryujin's friends built it one weekend and came back a couple weeks later to paint -- but somehow, it's even cooler than you imagined.
Most of the structure is robin's egg blue and the top of the platform is sunshine yellow. They're happy colors and, even though it's cloudy out today, from up there everything seems bright.
Yuna points out all the sights -- her neighbor's in-ground pool, the bird's nest up above, and the waterproof box where she stores her walkie-talkie -- and then you both climb into the branches and settle on two makeshift seats. "What's it like to have two moms?" Yuna opens her mouth to speak right away, like she's answered this question before, but then she pauses.
You smile to yourself, because you already know her answer is just for you. "Nice," she says after a moment. "Soft." And then, in a quiet voice, "safe." "Good. Great. That's great, Yuna." You mean it, but it doesn't stop the pang of envy from echoing in your chest.
"I haven't met my uncle's girlfriend yet, but I'd kill for her to be like Yeji or Ryujin." You regret the words the instant they leave your mouth, because it hurts to remind yourself of why you're here -- one last visit before you move to your uncle's, leaving the system and the state.
Yuna glances down at her walkie-talkie box, and you know what she's thinking. "He said he'll buy me a cell phone," you tell her. "I'll call you, or you can call me. It'll be okay." She nods and tries to smile at you. "Promise?" You wrap one arm around a sturdy branch and then reach out with the other, extending your pinky finger. Yuna grins -- for real, this time -- and hooks her pinky around yours. "Promise," you say.
There are clues everywhere. The walls of Yuna's room are painted pink and blue, her favorite colors, and you can hardly see her bedspread for all the stuffed animals. You don't even notice her black-and-white kitten (Waffles, she tells you, with background story of the name origin) snoozing amongst the pillows until she points him out.
The house is smattered with picture frames featuring Yuna's smiling face, and her drawings are practically wallpapering Yeji's study.
Yuna has her own dedicated snack shelf in the kitchen, and a closet filled with dresses, and an openness about her that wasn't there before. She has a family. This will be her last foster home.
You're sure of it.
You wonder if she knows.
After dinner (pizza, your favorite), the four of you nestle in the living room sofa and watch a movie on Netflix. You and Yuna sit in the center, with Yeji and Ryujin on the outsides, and you feel like you're in the middle of a sandwich, but in a good way.
The movie is halfway through when Yeji and Yuna decide they want ice cream, so Ryujin pauses it while they go to the kitchen to make four bowls.
You glance at Ryujin, who's quietly regarding you, and you shift to face her. "How old were you?" you ask. "When you were adopted, I mean." Ryujin's eyes widen a bit, like she's surprised you knew, and then she smiles. "Sixteen and a half."
"Wow. Lucky," you say. It goes unsaid that each passing year it becomes a little less likely -- there isn't a high demand for teenage foster kids. "That's good, though. That Yuna will be younger." Damn it. One of these days you'll learn to think before you speak.
Ryujin cocks her head to the side, surprise written all over her face, and you rush to recover. "She didn't say anything -- I swear," you blurt. "And I didn't say anything to her. I can just tell, you know? She fits here. With you and Yeji. I've never seen her so happy. And she talks, like, fifteen-thousand times more than she did back in the group home. People thought she was mute. There was a rumor going around that she was born without vocal chords at one point." Ryujin's quiet, and you're thinking you really put your foot in it this time when she reaches out and gives your forearm a quick squeeze. "Thank you for being such a good friend to her."
You're about to tell her it was no big deal -- that Yuna's the strong one, who was always there for you -- but then she and Yeji walk back in the room holding two heaping bowls each. The movie is almost over when Yuna reaches for Ryujin's arm and pulls it into her lap.
She points at the color-splashed diamond tattoo on the inside of her forearm. "I colored it in," she says. "Watch." Yuna runs her finger down the side of her water glass, gathering condensation. Then she drags her finger over the tattoo, and you wait, but the colors don't run. (They're going to keep her. You know it.)
It's dark out by the time the social worker comes to pick you up. Yuna's wringing her hands and shifting from foot to foot as you gather up the few things you brought with you. When you have everything in your backpack she gasps, like she's just remembered something. "Wait! Don't go." She waits for you to nod before she turns and runs upstairs.
Ryujin goes out to meet the social worker, and you start to feel a little panicky yourself. Foster kids like you and Yuna are used to change, but these changes are something different. Permanent.
"We're so glad you could finally come visit, bud," Yeji says. "Let us know when you're settled at your uncle's, okay?" You nod. "Yeah." "I mean it." She fixes you with a stern look. "I will." You hold out your hand to Yeji. "Friends don't lie." Yeji looks down at your hand and raises an eyebrow before opening her arms.
You're not great at being close to people -- especially strangers -- but it's a no-brainer for you to take a step forward and lean into her hug. "Not a lot of people understand her, but I do," you find yourself saying. "And I think you do, too. You and Ryujin." When Yeji pulls away, she takes a deep breath and cups the side of your face with her hand. "I hope so," she says.
You hear Yuna's usually quiet footsteps thundering down the stairs, and her cheeks are red from rushing when she gets to the bottom. She hands you your old hoodie, the one you gave to her on her very first day at the group home. "It might be cold at your uncle's." "No, Yuna, it's yours," you say, thrusting it toward her. "You keep it." She sets her jaw, and you know there's no point in arguing. "Give it back to me next time." You roll your eyes at her, but your heart swells inside your chest. "Fine."
She, Yeji, and Ryujin walk you out to the car. You hug Ryujin and Yeji (again), ignoring how the social worker's eyebrows shoot up. Yuna looks solemn when she steps up to you and winds her arms around your shoulders. You hug her around the middle, holding her close and trying to be strong.
You're not sure what it is between you. The kids back at the group home have teased you for having a crush on her, but that's not it, or if it is, that's not all. There's history and understanding and a certain solidness in your friendship. Something you haven't found in anyone else in your young life. "Goodbye, Sunoo," she whispers.
You imagine her -- eyes closed, cheek pressed against the side of your neck and skinny body wrapped around yours -- and a lump forms in your throat. When you finally pull away you hug the sweatshirt to your chest. "See you later, Yuna."
You get into the car and watch the three of them move together, as if by gravity. Ryujin wraps her arm around Yeji, who rests her hand on Yuna's shoulder as Yuna leans into her side. They look like an isosceles triangle. You watch them, standing together under the streetlight, until the car takes a corner and they're out of sight.
When you put your old hoodie on a few weeks later (it is kinda chilly at your uncle's) you find a folded piece of paper in the pouch. You open it slowly, carefully -- the way she would -- and smile when you see that it's a drawing.
After a few seconds you realize it's more than that -- it's a map. Her neighborhood as seen from above. The lines are all very straight, like she used a ruler, and your eyes follow the dotted lines denoting the path she takes to school and the bike lanes leading to the lake. Everything is neatly labeled, including Maya's and Haewon's houses, as well as the ice cream shop down the road.
Under the little blue house -- smack-dab in the middle of the paper -- it says "home."
It's the first thing you hang on your new bedroom wall.