My Light, My Jimin

Chapter 14: Grade: A+

JIMIN

I wasn't sure how I would feel after last night's drive with Professor Min, but I didn't expect it to make my anxiety skyrocket as soon as I laid eyes on him this morning.  Yet, here I am, sitting across from Hoseok in the library pretending to finish homework when I'm actually feeling more nervous than before.

Ever since I left his car, there's been this feeling that I can't quite describe that has taken root deep in my gut.  You would think that spending all this time with someone would calm me down, but it has the opposite effect— I'm becoming flustered just thinking about him.

Or maybe it's because we left things off so awkwardly.  Maybe it's because I know one of his bad habits of smoking.  I'm surprised I didn't know about that sooner, to be honest.  Now that his secret has been found by me, I have this sudden responsibility to keep it as such, a secret shared between a teacher and his student.

The library is fairly quiet for a Friday morning, not that I'm complaining.  As Hoseok finishes writing scribbles, he leans his head back and huffs.  "Can you please give me a crash course in basic math?"

"The only thing I can give you is a crash dummy."

"I think that will work out better."

I shake my head and glance over at the front desk where the librarian— I assume she's the librarian because of the huge round glasses that take up most of her face— is in the midst of stacking books onto a black cart that squeaks so loudly a fire alarm would be quieter.

I'm grimacing so hard my eyebrows hurt as Hoseok catches my eye and grins.  "I know, right?" he says.  "This is why I choose to work outside.  But mother nature decided to be bitchy today, so we're stuck here."

I glance back at the desk.  "Does she not have anyone to help her?"

"Who?  Mrs. Sumin?" Hoseok asks.  "She had an assistant last year, if I remember correctly.  I think she graduated and left."

"How long has Mrs. Sumin been working for?"

He shrugs.  "My guess would be ten years or more.  She's one of those faces that looks like they've always belonged here, you know?"

I nod and find her in the shelves, struggling to put back a book on the top shelf, so much that she has to stand on the tips of her toes and stretch her thin arms.  I stand and quickly walk toward her, smiling and whispering if I could help.

"Hmm?" She scans me up and down.  "You want to do the heavy lifting?"

Her voice isn't as quiet as I expected it to be; it's heavily accented with a Busan style, and memories of home instantly come to the front of my mind.  I smile.  "If I can help, then yes."

"You won't get paid for this," she warns me as I take a stack of books from her.

"Why should I?  I'm not an employee."

She rolls her eyes.  "At least you've got the brains to figure that one out.  Aish.  These kids think that the library is easy to work in, but what do they know?  It's a lot more than checking out books and putting them on a shelf."

Even though Mrs. Sumin snarls under her breath and has a droopy face like a pug, I already feel comfortable with her.  I have a feeling she's already used to me as well after we put away more books and I let her vent about how the next generations are growing up with no respect, and how back in her days, that kind of behavior was unheard of.

By the time we've finished, I've learned that she grew up in Busan, then moved down here to be closer to her husband and became a librarian here after injuring her leg in a car accident.  It was a long time ago, she tells me, but I notice a slight limp in her walk.