Stop looking, Grace!
Praise God, we get on a bus instead of motorbikes. I fumble for the right coins, embarrassment heating my cheeks, and Yoon Jae has to pay for me before the passengers behind us throw pointy objects at my head.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” he assures me as we squish into the crowded aisle and grab onto handles hanging from the ceiling. “I went to America last year, and I could never figure out how the money worked.” He wrinkles his nose. “All the bills are the same color and have old white men on them.”
We ride for nearly two hours before we reach the Incheon city center, and I realize why Sophie wanted to drive her motorbike into town the other day. Once in Incheon, Sophie leads us to a stairwell down to the subway, and I swallow a groan. More traveling?
But once we descend into the belly of the underground metro, my mouth literally falls open. Instead of a train platform and turnstiles, the long tunnel is packed full of stalls overflowing with clothes, jewelry, trinkets, and anything else you could want to buy. We’re not taking the subway to the mall—this is the mall.
Sophie takes the lead, and we pass a furniture store standing opposite a perfume shop and a nail salon beside a pharmacy. The white tiled floors and chrome ceiling still look like a subway station, but the crowds aren’t rushing to make their trains.
“So, where do we want to eat?” Sophie asks. “Western or no?”
Everyone looks to me, and I hold both hands up in the universal sign of surrender. “Hey, I don’t care. I can eat Western food every day at home, so you guys get whatever you want.”
They decide on a restaurant off the main tunnel, which offers both Korean and Western food. The waitress comes to take our order, but she just stares, the wheels of her brain turning and reflecting on her face. Suddenly, her entire expression lights up, and she cries out something that makes Jason wince. He shakes his head, and Yoon Jae pitches in, waving his hands in front of his face, but the woman isn’t dissuaded. She points at the three boys, then fishes out her phone, and before I can protest, Sophie’s shoved me off the bench and the waitress has taken my seat and is getting a picture with Eden.
Heads are turning throughout the restaurant, phones pulled out of purses and pockets, an excited murmur buzzes in the air. The waitress bows her head and says, “Gomapseumnida,” which I remember from class means thank you—but don’t ask me what level of formality it is.
The waitress leaves, but she’s soon replaced by more fans and, thirty seconds later, there’s a swarm of people snapping pictures and pushing pens at the three boys. I lose Sophie in the crowd, getting shoved toward the back. I pull in a sharp breath when an elbow jabs into my side and, gritting my teeth, I swim back to the front.
“Sophie!” I shout.
“Grace!” She reaches through the crowd, over shoulders, until she grasps my hand and pulls me forward.
Yoon Jae and Tae Hwa sign autographs and throw up peace signs for pictures, but Jason stays behind them, staring at the ground and scowling whenever a flash goes off.
The mass of bodies pushes at my back and pins me against our table until it hurts, but no matter how many dirty looks I throw over my shoulder, the crowd doesn’t let up. Before I can get completely run over, Sophie steps between the band and their admirers, and shouts something over the hum of voices. And with the skill of a manager or handler, she ushers the boys out of the restaurant and onto the main walkway.
But we’re greeted by more camera phones and people eager for a celebrity spotting. Sophie grabs my wrist, and we lead the way through the now-packed tunnel. Fingers brush mine from behind, and I glance back to see Yoon Jae reaching for me. He snags my hand, and our entire group makes a train as we weave through the crowd.
I tilt my chin up to suck down a breath of cool air. With bodies pressing against us and cameras flashing from every side, my pulse climbs, sending adrenaline-laced blood through my veins. I’ve been with Nathan when fans spotted him, but I’ve never seen this kind of mob in the States.
We climb up a flight of stairs and emerge back onto the street, but Sophie doesn’t stop—and no one lets go of hands. Jogging, she leads us down a darkened alley, then another and another, until no one’s behind us anymore.
She stops beside a Dumpster, and I press my palm against the brick building beside us, trying to mask my panting breaths.
“That was … kind of crazy,” I say.
Yoon Jae catches my eye, and we stare at each other for a couple seconds before we both crack up, and then everyone except for Jason is laughing.
“Maybe we should go back to school,” Yoon Jae says.
“Seriously? And let the crazies get the best of us?” Sophie sniffs. “We should go eat dinner and have fun, just to prove we can.”
Still laughing, we follow Sophie through the winding back alleys of Incheon until we find a restaurant so far off the main roads it doesn’t even feel like we’re in the same city. A fishy smell lingers outside the restaurant’s door, and I wrinkle my nose as we go inside and squeeze onto two wooden benches. The customers are all over fifty, and no one gives the boys a second glance.
The others peruse the Korean menu, and Yoon Jae offers to read me the choices.
“Just order me whatever sounds good,” I say.
He studies the list. “Do you like fish?”
“Umm…”
He smiles. “You don’t.”
“Well, if that’s what they specialize in here, that’s fine. I’ll be brave. Make memories and whatnot.”
I’m thinking confident thoughts until our plates arrive. The bits I get stare up at me in menace, their smell daring me to take a bite and not vomit. I glare right back.
“I thought you wanted to be brave,” Yoon Jae says with a sly grin.
I shoot him a mock glare, then hold my breath as I take a bite and chew. No gagging. Swallow. I did it!