Chapter 5 Something About The Kwon’s
Something About The Kwon's
There was just something about the Kwon girls.
I didn’t quite know what in particular, but anyone who’d ever walked by the little blue house on Clementine Street would tell you how they were drawn to them.
Just as I mentioned, I had known right from the start that that was going to be a house built for sisters.
Something about it was perfect for tea parties and dress-up games, for delicate footsteps running to their parent’s quiet despair past midnight.
For bathroom squabbles in the early mornings, for tears of both joy and sorrow.
Every brick, every bone of the foundation was theirs from the start.
I hadn’t talked to them or even approached them since the day Sydney and I had brought over the pie.
I wasn’t used to interacting with a lot of girls my age.
I’d lived a life beside the boys for most of my days, so I was nervous that maybe all that boyishness had somehow rubbed off on me and robbed me of my femininity.
Of that part of me that would make me ‘one of the girls’.
Syd kept insisting that we go back over and talk with them, but as often as she did, I kept putting it off, making up one excuse after another, and I could tell she was starting to realize that something was off.
We were eating breakfast on Sydney’s front porch by the pool, her mother was sunbathing on a floater in the middle of the vast blue, an attempt at getting the kind of tan that whispered of wealth—that declared to everyone back home that you were well travelled.
She’d made us the beignets from Princess and the Frog that we’d been dreaming of since we’d watched the film.
Where she’d fetched the recipe from we didn’t know but we assumed it was someplace just as magical.
They were dusted with powdered sugar and just the right amount of gooey and warm at the centre.
We devoured them with cups of tea—there was always tea at the St James’s.
“What kind of tea is this?” I wondered, taking another long sip—it had a particularly strong taste and sharp scent. “Your dad’s still on a mission to expand his collection of teas from around the world?”
“He prefers to utilize the term quest.” She glanced down curiously at her fine China teacup. “He thinks it sounds far more interesting than it actually is.”
“You’ve got to admire his determination, I’ll give him that much. Hats off, I believe the label said this one’s from Busan.”
“Ah yes, Mr Kwon from the little blue house down the street came over and gifted it to him as a thank you for the pie. It’s a mint tea, it’s not so bad, just quite strong.
They talked about this and that, you know Dad tends to ramble and carry most of the conversation but Mr Kwon seemed to fascinate him, he had lots of stories to tell.
He knew a little bit about every topic, a sensational conversationalist,” Sydney retold then paused, “he invited us over again, said his girls are rarely bored of themselves but that they need more friends their age. We should go.”
“I don’t know…I still haven’t finished my summer reading list and I was hoping to catch up later,” I brushed off, clearing my throat, but it was evident to me that she wasn’t buying it.
I thought of myself as a good liar, but Sydney always saw right through me.
“Yeah, and Santa Clause is coming to town.” She scoffed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, the wind blowing her hair into her face. “What’s this really about, Soh, you were so excited about week ago.”
“Things change,” I mumbled. “nothing.”
“What changed?” she wondered, pressing me.
“What if…” I sucked in a deep breath, taking a bite out of the doughnut in front of me, “What if they don’t like me?”
“Yeah what if?” Sydney agreed, folding her arms. I sure as hell wasn’t expecting that reaction.
“Huh?”
“You’re right, what if they don’t like you.
What happens then, are you suddenly to be deemed ultimately unlikeable in the eyes of all?
" she questioned, then took a deep breath of her own. “You can’t throw away good things in this life all in the name of a measly ‘what if’, there is nothing certain in this world so everything is like that. You know that one quote from Forest Gump?”
“Dear God, make me–” I quoted with a hint of truth in my sarcasm.
“No no the one about the box of chocolates and the uncertainty of life!” she corrected in a thick southern accent. “So yeah, what if they don’t like you? But what if they don’t? What if they adore you just as I do?”
I knew deep down that she was right and that it would be a shame to sike myself out before I ever stood a chance. I couldn’t let fear hold me back from making friends and branching out. I loved my brothers, dearly. But I needed friends of my own, and this would be my chance to do just that.
“You’re the most determined and self-assured person I know when it comes to all aspects of your academic life and ballet career. But it’s like when it comes to this, you’re holding back,” Syd pointed out, then placed a hand over mine. “Don’t.”
“I’ll give it a try,” I assured myself more than I did her. “Promise.”
“Well then, let’s pour this tea down the drain and go over next door, yeah?” she suggested. I chuckled, nodding my head in agreement.
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This time it was Sydney who knocked on the door, not me—I was letting her take the reins this time, she was the social butterfly after all.
There was a shuffle of footsteps behind the navy door before it swung open and to our surprise it was Mr Kwon who answered the door, he wore overalls that were covered in pastel pink paint, his hair was ruffled and messy and he appeared to be incredibly busy.
“Ah! Sydney, you took up my offer I see, I hope you’re well!” He beamed. “You’re welcome here any time and I see you’ve brought a friend?”
“Thank you, Mr. Kwon. I already feel welcome, and I haven’t even stepped through the front door yet!” Sydney chuckled. “And yes, this is my best friend, Yesoh. She lives at Mirrorball House next door. You must’ve met her dad and brother already the last time you came over.
“Ah yes, you’re Mr Yeo’s only girl, I remember. It’s nice to meet you, Yesoh.” He reached forward to shake my tiny hand in his firm grip.
“It’s lovely to meet you too, you seem busy, maybe this isn’t a good time?” I wondered, hearing the chaos that was going on inside, little voices shouting and giggling and furniture moving up and down.
“Actually, this is a perfect time. I can’t think of a better opportunity for you to meet the girls. They’re decorating and organizing their rooms. I was just helping my youngest paint hers a coral pink.”
“Ah I see, but isn’t that a pastel pink?” I wondered.
He paused and whispered, “Don’t tell her that, please this is the third shade of pink paint we’re trying.”We laughed, placing a finger over our lips, swearing utmost secrecy.
“Got it,” I agreed.
We made our way inside at that and just when I thought it couldn’t possibly get any louder than it was, it did.
A little girl ran down the staircase carrying a giant bucket of pink paint in her tiny hands, appearing to be struggling with it.
“Appa!” she called out, remaining laser-focused on her mission, whatever that was.
“I have just been informed by Pinterest that this is in fact not a pastel pink at all, we have to take it back to the store we’ve been scammed. ”
“Heavens.” Mr Kwon sighed under his breath. “Careful with that bucket of—”
Just then she glanced upward, she realized that there were guests at the door, “Oh, how rude of me, it’s nice to meet you I’m—” Just then the paint slipped from her grasp and went tumbling down the staircase, splattering onto the white carpet draped over it.
“Bae!” another girl yelled from atop the staircase behind her in alarm at the situation at hand.
“Bae…” Mr Kwon groaned in disappointment.
“That’s right, Bae!” she chirped with bright eyes, abandoning the bucket of paint to race down the stairs in her patchwork denim overalls ornamented with various drawings. “I’ve been dying to meet you, neighbour. And I’m sorry about the bucket of paint, Appa, honest, it was an accident.”
“It’s always an accident with you,” the girl from atop the stairs scolded, beginning to roll up the carpet so it didn’t stain the wooden stairs. “I promise it’s not always like this around here, guys, the chaos…well that’s all Bae.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” I gave her a slight smile.
“I wish my house was chaotic, it’s much more fun than it feeling like a museum every day with all the silence and priceless artefacts,” Sydney encouraged—it was her way of trying to make them feel better.
“Oh, it’s never quiet around here, you can rely on that much.
Well unless Dad’s mad at us, but he’s never mad so…
” the other girl concluded, rolling the mat over to her father, wiping nonexistent sweat from her brow.
She was evidently older than Bae and a tad bit more witty. “I’m Jiwon, welcome to Riot House.”
“I’m Sydney and this is Yesoh, and trust me when I say it’s such a relief to finally have a family move in here, the house was empty for years!" Syd leaned against the staircase. “Honestly we were starting to lose faith, we were ready to start making up haunting stories to fit the narrative.”
“The only spooky thing around here is Beck but she’s not home right now so don’t you worry!
" Bae snorted a laugh. “This is Jiwon, my other sister, there’s four of us when you count Wynter. But I heard you met him already. I’m eleven and a half, Jiwon is thirteen, Wynter is fifteen, and Beck is sixteen. "
“Yeah we did, we didn’t see him on move-in day so we assumed it was just you girls,” I explained to them as Mr Kwon prepared to take the rug to the dry cleaners and I winced knowing it would cost a fortune.