Hello, I Love You

The crew has set up the camera on a rickety raft that looks like it might capsize any second. Fishermen tie up their boats farther down the dock, hauling in their latest catch. Their fish fill the air with a murky smell that makes me want to look for the nearest bucket to hurl into.

Sophie’s chatting up one of the camera guys, but I stand off a few paces to the side, not ready to whip out my Korean skills—or lack thereof. My one-word conversation with the kids will tide me over for at least a week.

A group of three fishermen head down the boardwalk toward us, wearing identical black pants that reach just below their knees and straw hats covering their faces. I wonder why their hands are empty until they get closer, and I recognize them. Laughter bursts from my mouth before I can bite it back, and Jason glares at me from underneath his wide-brim hat.

Sophie breaks off her conversation with the cameraman, and she joins in my laughter. “You three look ridiculous,” she says through giggles.

Yoon Jae spins. “Really? I like it. I was thinking about wearing it at school.”

Jason scowls, and when he catches my eye, I have to bite my lip to keep from grinning. The extra nausea is worth getting a good laugh at him.

The director arrives on set, and filming launches. The boys step into a boat barely large enough for all three of them. Yoon Jae is handed a pole to guide them through the water, and Jason and Tae Hwa each hold one side of a gigantic net.

Sophie and I stand to the left of the camera, snickering under our breaths. Again, I wish for my camera. Jason needs to see how ridiculously awkward and out of place he looks.

The boys launch into “fishing.” I don’t have any experience with the fishing industry, but I’m fairly certain they’re not doing it right.

Yoon Jae manages to move them a few feet through the water, the muscles in his arms straining as he fights the tide. But Tae Hwa and Jason struggle to cast the net. They throw it, but it slaps the water only a few feet away from the boat.

Frustration visible in his scowl, Jason braces his foot against the rim of the boat and leans out to throw the net farther—

And pitches forward.

He hits the water face-first with a loud clap.

Jason’s head bobs to the surface, and he sputters, hair plastered to his face. Once we ascertain he isn’t going to drown, Sophie and I can’t contain our intense amusement. I laugh so hard, I have to hold my stomach to keep myself from gagging.

Once his feet are firmly back on the dock, he rips the hat from his head and stomps toward shore. When he passes me, he drips water on my shoes.

“Hey, watch it!” I cry with a snicker.

“Why don’t you get in there and try it?” he snaps.

A flint of irritation sparks inside my chest at his snippy tone, and my hands gravitate to my hips. “I was just kidding. Loosen up.”

He storms off, muttering in Korean.

I sigh. “Sophie, what is this song even about?”

She squints against the sun’s glare off the water. “Unlikely love. The chorus talks about unexpectedly falling for someone who’s different from you but trying to work it out. It’s hard to translate into English.”

I nod, but my pulse spikes at the mention of loving someone unexpected. The question of when Jason wrote the song springs to my lips, but I hold it back. The song probably appears on their album, one of the ones they played at the club where I watched them perform. Still, my mind clicks through every girl I’ve seen him talking to, trying to figure out who he might have written the song about.

Filming continues when Jason returns—freshly dried—with the guys performing various actions fishermen do every day. They grunt carrying giant nets full of fish across the boardwalk, and they get tangled in the rope as they try to tie the boat to the dock. The more I watch, the more respect I have for the people who do this type of work every day.

Around two, the boys disappear into wardrobe for about half an hour, then reappear dressed in their typical, fashionable ensembles. A pretty girl shows up in clothes similar to what the boys were wearing earlier, and she shoots a few scenes with Jason, mostly him following her around as she completes chores. It would be cute if I didn’t feel like I were suffocating—both from the queasiness that keeps worsening and the irritation swelling inside my chest at watching him smile at her. I’ll never be the recipient of that smile. We’re barely even friends. And that shouldn’t bother me as much as it does.

I turn to look away a little too fast, and a chill rushes all the way from my hairline to my toes, followed by a wave of lightheadedness. Okay, weird. I sway, lights exploding and clouding my vision. I stumble into Sophie, who grabs my arm, and I shake my head to get rid of the dizziness.

“Are you okay?” Sophie asks.

“Fine,” I mumble, though I’m starting to wonder if maybe I should get some water.

My legs quiver. I think the nausea is getting the best of me …

A breeze brushes against my sweaty skin, and I shiver. How long has it been since I drank anything? My knees buckle, and I slump against Sophie. She attempts to grab me, but I feel my body crashing onto the boardwalk as I black out.

*

“Grace?”

I blink my eyes until the blurry image in front of me clears into Jason’s face, eyebrows pulled together and jaw tight. He leans so close, I can imagine his warm breath against my face.

“Grace, are you all right?” he asks.

“What?” I croak.

I push up on my hands and close my eyes against the swimminess in my head. Jason supports my back and passes me a bottle of water, his body shading me from the afternoon sun.

“Drink something,” he says, our heads still bent close. “Do you feel okay?”

“I’ve been feeling sick to my stomach all day.” I press my face into my palms.

“Is she okay?” Sophie shoves Jason out of the way to inspect me herself, eyes wide behind her glasses. “Grace, don’t you ever do something like that again! You scared me!”

I chug half the bottle of water, my stomach flipping like it’s on a roller coaster. “I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

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