Sunday morning I woke up to sunlight streaming through my window and a text message waiting on my phone.
Bok-Jin: Good morning, girlfriend.
I stared at the word for a solid minute, feeling a stupid smile spread across my face.
Girlfriend. I was someone's girlfriend. Choi Bok-Jin's girlfriend.
Me: Good morning, boyfriend.
Bok-Jin: I'm never getting tired of that word.
Me: It's been less than 24 hours.
Bok-Jin: And I'm already obsessed. What time is your practice test?
Me: 1-4. Then you're picking me up, remember?
Bok-Jin: I remember. I'll be outside the library at 4. Good luck today. You're going to do great.
Me: You have a lot of confidence in me.
Bok-Jin: That's because you're brilliant and capable and I'm biased because you're my girlfriend.
Me: Using the word again, I see.
Bok-Jin: Every chance I get.
I got out of bed still smiling and found Min-Ji already in the kitchen making coffee.
"You're up early for a Sunday," she observed.
"Practice test at 1. Wanted to review a bit first."
"Or you wanted to text your boyfriend." She said it with exaggerated emphasis on the last word.
"That too."
"I'm happy for you. You know that, right? You deserve this."
"Thanks. It feels weird. Good weird, but weird."
"That's normal. You spent so long thinking you couldn't have both—academic success and a relationship. Now you get to figure out how to balance them."
"Any advice?"
"Don't sacrifice yourself for either one. If you have to choose between studying and seeing him, sometimes choose studying. But sometimes choose him. Balance."
"That's surprisingly wise."
"I have my moments."
I spent the morning reviewing LEET strategies, eating a proper breakfast, and trying not to check my phone every five minutes to see if Bok-Jin had texted again.
He had, twice. Once with a ridiculous meme about standardized testing, once with a photo of his own study materials and the caption: Suffering alongside you in spirit.
At 12:45 I arrived at the library to find Su-Jin, Tae-Min, and Min-Seo already setting up in our reserved study room. They'd printed out a full practice LEET test and brought timers, scratch paper, everything we needed to simulate real conditions.
"Ready to suffer?" Tae-Min asked.
"As ready as I'll ever be."
"Ground rules," Su-Jin said. "We start at exactly 1 PM. No phones, no breaks between sections except what the real test allows. We treat this like the actual exam."
"Agreed."
"Also," Min-Seo added, "no freaking out if it goes badly. This is practice. The point is to find our weaknesses."
We settled in, and at 1:00 PM sharp, Su-Jin started the timer.
"Section one: Reading Comprehension. Thirty-five minutes. Begin."
I dove into the first passage—something about constitutional interpretation theory. Dense, complex, exactly what LEET loved to throw at test-takers.
This time, I didn't overthink. I read quickly but carefully, marked key information, moved to the questions.
Trusted my instincts like Professor Jung had taught me.
Finished all thirty questions with two minutes to spare.
Progress.
The logical reasoning section was harder—identifying argument structures, spotting logical fallacies, all the patterns I'd been drilling for weeks. I got through twenty-eight of thirty questions before time ran out.
The essay section came last. Thirty minutes to construct a clear argument on a given prompt. Mine was about whether universities should prioritize research or teaching.
I outlined quickly, wrote efficiently, hit all my main points. When time was called, I had a complete essay that wasn't perfect but was coherent.
We finished at 3:45, all of us looking drained.
"That was brutal," Min-Seo said, dropping her pencil.
"At least it's over," Tae-Min said. "Anyone want to grade these now or wait until we don't hate ourselves?"
"Let's do it now," Su-Jin suggested. "Get it over with."
We swapped tests and went through the answer key Professor Jung had provided. I graded Tae-Min's test while someone else graded mine.
When we tallied scores, I'd gotten a 156 out of 180.
"That's really good," Su-Jin said, looking at her score sheet. "Eighty-seventh percentile. You'd get into most law schools with that."
"But not the top ones," I said. "I need at least 165 for SNU."
"You've got two months. You'll get there."
We spent the next fifteen minutes reviewing the questions we'd missed, discussing strategies, commiserating about the ones that had tripped us up.
"Same time next week?" Tae-Min suggested.
"Yeah. And maybe we should meet one weeknight too, just to drill weak sections?"
"Wednesday evening?" Min-Seo proposed. "We could do a two-hour session, just logical reasoning practice."
"I'm in," I said.
We finalized plans, packed up our materials, and I checked my phone.
Bok-Jin: 15 minutes. I'm getting coffee. Want anything?
Me: Americano. You're the best.
Bok-Jin: I know.
I said goodbye to my study group and headed downstairs to find Bok-Jin waiting outside the library entrance with two coffee cups and a smile that made my heart skip.
"Hey," he said, handing me a coffee. "How was the practice test?"
"Brutal but necessary. I got 156."
"Out of?"
"180."
"Is that good?"
"It's decent. Not great. I need to get to 165."
"You will. You always hit your goals." He took my bag without asking, slinging it over his shoulder with his own. "Want to walk for a bit? Or are you too fried?"
"Walk. I need to move after three hours of sitting."
We wandered through campus, which was quiet on a Sunday afternoon. The cherry blossoms had mostly fallen, leaving green leaves in their wake, and the weather was warm enough that I didn't need my jacket.
"So," he said after a while, "how does it feel? First day as my official girlfriend?"
"Terrifying. Great. Slightly surreal."
"Same. I keep wanting to tell people but also wanting to keep it private. Does that make sense?"
"Complete sense. Have you told anyone?"
"My roommate figured it out when I came home grinning like an idiot last night. You?"
"My roommates knew before I did. They've been waiting for this since we first broke up."
We walked past the business building, and he suddenly stopped.
"What?" I asked.
"There's a thing next Friday. A business school networking event. Very boring, very corporate. But I kind of have to go, and I'd really like it if you came with me."
"As your girlfriend?"
"As my girlfriend. I know you have that dinner with Yoo-Na Friday night, but this is earlier—cocktail hour from 5 to 7. We'd be done in plenty of time for you to make Yoo-Na's thing."
"You want me to go to a business school event? Where people talk about market analysis and profit margins?"
"I want you to go because you make boring things bearable. But no pressure. If it's too much—"
"I'll go."
"Really?"
"Yeah. But you have to help me survive Yoo-Na's business dinner, so we're even."
"Deal."
He took my hand, and we kept walking. It felt natural now, this casual intimacy. Like we'd been together for months instead of days.
"Can I tell you something?" I asked.
"Always."
"I'm really happy. Like, stupidly happy. And it's making me nervous because I keep waiting for something to go wrong."
"What if nothing goes wrong?"
"That seems statistically unlikely."
"Maybe. But what if we just... let ourselves be happy? Without waiting for disaster?"
"That's very optimistic of you."
"I'm dating you. I'm allowed to be optimistic."
We ended up at a small restaurant near campus—the kind of place that served good comfort food and didn't care if you lingered. We ordered too much food and talked about everything and nothing.
His business strategy project. My constitutional law paper. His family's latest demands. My LEET weaknesses. The hideous plush cat he'd won me.
Normal couple stuff.
"I have a question," he said as we split the last of the jjigae.
"Shoot."
"Are we telling people? Officially? Or keeping it quiet for now?"
I thought about it. "I don't want to hide it. But I also don't want to make it a big announcement. Just... if it comes up, we're honest?"
"That works for me. Though fair warning—my family will find out eventually. They always do."
"How do you think they'll react?"
"Depends on whether they think you're 'suitable.'" He said it with air quotes and obvious disdain. "But honestly? I don't care what they think. This is my life, my choice."
"That's very rebellious of you."
"You're a bad influence."
"I try."
After dinner, he walked me home. The sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, and the evening air was perfect—not too cold, not too warm.
At my building, we stopped in our usual spot.
"So," he said, "this is where I kiss you goodnight, right? That's what boyfriends do?"
"I think that's in the handbook somewhere."
"Good. Because I've been wanting to do this all day."
He kissed me, sweet and unhurried, and I felt like I was floating. When we pulled apart, I was smiling.
"I could get used to this," I said.
"Good. Because I plan to make it a regular thing."
"How regular are we talking?"
"Daily. Maybe more."
"That seems excessive."
"I'm an excessive person."
I kissed him again, just because I could, and felt ridiculously happy about the fact that this was allowed now. That I could just kiss him whenever I wanted.
"I should go," I said reluctantly. "I have homework and LEET review and approximately seventeen responsible things to do."
"Okay. But text me later?"
"Obviously."
"Good. Goodnight, Ji-Mang."
"Goodnight, Bok-Jin."
I went upstairs with a smile I couldn't suppress, and found my roommates watching a drama in the living room.
"How was the date?" Yoo-Na asked without looking away from the screen.
"We're going to that business networking thing Friday before your dinner."
"What? Why?"
"Because he asked and I said yes and apparently I'm a supportive girlfriend now."
"Character growth. I love it."
I settled onto the couch with them, and we watched terrible television while I half-focused on the screen and half-thought about the fact that I had a boyfriend who wanted me at his events and made me coffee and kissed me like I was precious.
My phone buzzed.
Bok-Jin: Made it home. Thank you for today. For every day, really.
Me: Thank you for the coffee and the company and being generally great.
Bok-Jin: You're making me blush.
Me: Good. You're cute when you blush.
Bok-Jin: I'm cute all the time.
Me: Debatable.
Bok-Jin: Rude. I'm rescinding my compliments.
Me: Too late. Already received.
Bok-Jin: You're terrible.
Me: You like me anyway.
Bok-Jin: I really do. Sleep well.
Me: You too.
I set my phone down and realized both my roommates were watching me instead of the drama.
"You're smiling at your phone again," Min-Ji said.
"I'm allowed to smile at my phone."
"You are. It's just weird seeing you this happy."
"Weird good or weird bad?"
"Weird good. Definitely weird good."
And it was. Despite the LEET stress and the paper deadline and the upcoming business events and all the ways my life was still complicated, I was happy.
Genuinely, uncomplicated happy.
For the first time in a long time, I had balance. School, work, relationships, goals. All of it fitting together instead of competing.
It wouldn't last forever. I knew that. Life was too complicated for perfect balance to be sustainable.
But for now? For right now?
I was letting myself have this. All of it.