I was going to be deported. My life was over. I was standing in a puddle of kimchi-flavored humiliation.
"Ya!" the ice queen shrieked, slapping my hand away. "Mijyeosseo?! Are you crazy?! Don't touch me!"
Her face was a mask of pure, aristocratic fury. "I... I'm sorry... I'll clean it... I'll get napkins..." I stammered, my four years of K-drama-Korean evaporating in a cloud of panic. I fumbled for the right words. I wanted to explain. I wanted to say, "It's dirty," as in, "The situation is dirty, the stew is on you, it's a mess."
My brain latched onto the one word I was looking for. "Deoreowo!" I blurted out.
It was the wrong word. It was the worst possible word.
The girl's eyes widened, then narrowed into slits. The cafeteria, which had been silent, somehow became more silent. "Mwo?" she hissed, her voice dropping to a low, lethal vibration. "What did you just say to me?"
I had no idea what I'd done. I just knew it was bad. "Deoreowo," I repeated, gesturing helplessly at her shirt. "The... the kimchi... it's... dirty..." By using the informal, blunt adjective, I wasn't describing the stew. I was, in effect, calling her "filthy."
One of her friends gasped. "He... I can't believe he said that. That Shiba–"
The girl took a half-step toward me, her hands balled into fists. She looked like she was about to commit murder with a set of designer chopsticks. "You... you dare..."
"That's enough."
The voice cut through the tension like a knife. Park Jun-seo had arrived. His warm, welcoming, "class president" smile was gone. His face was deadcold. He looked at me with a blank, profound disappointment that was worse than any yelling. It was the "I'm not mad" look, weaponized.
He completely ignored me and stepped between us, turning his full, polished charm on the girl. He pulled a clean, folded handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to her—not to touch her, but for her to take. "Chae-rin-ssi," he said, his voice low and smooth. "Are you okay? I am so, so sorry on behalf of our class."
Yoo Chae-rin. She wasn't just the most popular girl. Queen of Kirin. Her father was rumored to be on the school's board of directors.
Chae-rin's furious expression faltered, just a fraction, when she saw Jun-seo. She snatched the handkerchief. "This is unbelievable, Jun-seo! Who is this idiot? You're the representative of foreign students? This is who they sent?"
"He's new, Chae-rin-ssi. It was an accident," Jun-seo said calmly. He was handling her like she was a bomb.
He then turned to me. His eyes were flat.
"San-ssi," he said, and the polite suffix felt like an insult. "Go. Sit down. Now." "But, I..."
"Go. Sit with Ha-neul." It wasn't a suggestion.
Humiliated, my entire body burning red, I picked up my now-empty tray. I didn't even have food. I couldn't go back in line. I was a pariah. I did the walk of shame, part two, across the cafeteria.
As I walked, I saw Kang Min-ah. She was at her table, watching the entire exchange with the focus of a sports commentator. Her pink phone was gripped in her hand, though not pointed at me. She wasn't filming. She was just... observing. And she had a huge, delighted smirk on her face. She was loving this. She gave me a tiny, conspiratorial "you're-in-deep-trouble" shrug.
I reached the "Perfects" zone and collapsed into the empty chair. Jun-seo was still over there, calmly talking Chae-rin down, a teacher now joining him. I just put my head in my hands. "Aish... jinjja..." I muttered into my palms.
A small sound came from across the table. I looked up. Ha-neul was looking at me. She had her hand over her mouth, but it wasn't working. Her eyes were crinkled at the corners, and her shoulders were shaking. Even her silk blonde hair trembled.
A small, sharp, undignified snort escaped her. She saw my expression—my utter despair—and it just made it worse.
"You... you..." she choked out, trying to whisper, "you called Yoo Chae-rin... filthy?" She dissolved into a fit of silent, helpless laughter, her head dropping to the table.
My host sister, thought my social suicide was the funniest thing she'd ever seen. This was not fine. This was not fine at all.