Bring It On! - Chapter 9

Chapter 9. 

Sunlight marking the start of morning crept through the cracks in the ceiling. I slowly woke up, feeling the weight pressing down on my body and the light hitting my eyelids. As I turned my head out of discomfort, something soft brushed against my lips.

“Ah.”

My eyes snapped open. The man’s sleeping face was way too close. With an irritated sigh, I shoved his shoulder hard. I’d gotten used to this by now and managed to slip out of his arms without much trouble.

6 a.m.

I rubbed my sleepy eyes and tied up my messy hair into a bun.

“Hey, get up.”

He didn’t budge at first. Even when I smacked his abs with my palm, he only flinched slightly and kept his eyes shut.

“Hey, deadbeat!”

Only after I yelled right into his ear did he jolt up in shock.

“You’re gonna burst my eardrums first thing in the morning.”

He recognized me and ran a hand down his face.

“I told you we’d be busy starting today. Don’t you remember?”

It was the day we’d officially start building a new shelter. We had a good stack of chopped wood from our previous sweat-filled efforts. The plan was to set up the basic structure and fill in the gaps with whatever else we could gather.

And this morning’s duty was his. We needed breakfast first before we could move on to anything else.

“I know.”

“Then move.”

With sleep still heavy on his face, he staggered out of the shelter. I watched his dazed figure walk away. His sleepwear had ridden up like hotpants, exposing firm thighs and long calves. The thin material clung close enough to show every movement of his muscles. 

It was the first time I’d ever felt overwhelmed by someone’s looks alone. A body that looked like it could inspire countless artists. I couldn’t help but silently admire it every now and then.

“Hey! Come out! I started the fire! New record!”

How could someone with a body that flawless still be such a useless mess? That, in itself, must’ve been a kind of talent.

I swatted a fly off Suho’s belly and stepped outside.

“Who are you trying to burn at the stake?”

Smoke billowed suspiciously. He coughed and waved a hand in front of his face.

“Is this how you’re supposed to steam it?”

He poked a palm fruit with a stick. Suddenly, the water inside began bubbling and burst out violently.

“Yeah. Just don’t burn it.”

He crouched by the fire, glaring at the fish he was cooking.

“Are you trying to cook it with your stare now?”

“Mind your own business. I’m concentrating.”

“Then wipe your tears and concentrate.”

He pulled his shirt up and wiped his face. He stayed in that same pose until Suho woke up and wandered out.

“Not sure if it’s done.”

Despite all the smoke, the fish was taking longer than usual to cook. He poked around with a serious face.

When he tilted his head and looked like he was contemplating life over a fish….

“Give me the chopsticks.”

I snatched them from him and picked off a bit of the meat to taste. The tender fish melted in my mouth.

“It’s done.”

“You didn’t even check properly. What if it wasn’t?”

“Then I’d spit it out.”

He looked horrified, but I answered casually.

“I was already nervous when you were chopping with those soft hands. You really have no sense of caution.”

“Do you have to put it that way? You could say bold, proactive, dynamic. There are nicer words.”

“Whatever. Just be more careful next time. If you get sick… that’d be a breach of contract. Remember, we agreed to cooperate.”

“Sounds like a lot of responsibility. Fine, I’ll put the fire out.”

He moved the palm fish stew to the table and stomped the fire out.

Like always, Suho and I finished eating first, and the guy was on his second helping when. 

“Hey, what does ‘deadbeat’ mean?”

Pffft!

He spat out his food. Suho looked at him with pure disgust and contempt. I almost told him you just saw what it means, but stopped myself. The man’s face had gone cold and murderous.

“Hey.”

He set down his food. I raised an eyebrow, sensing tension. What?

“Don’t teach the kid weird stuff.”

“Then what should I call you?”

“There are so many better words than that.”

“Do you have something else you want to be called?”

He didn’t have a ready answer and shut his mouth. Come to think of it, we hadn’t even exchanged names. Survival was our priority, so we never bothered getting to know each other.

“Do you even remember your name?”

“…No. What’s yours?”

Ten days and a bit after we met, we were finally introducing ourselves.

“Sun Woo-ri.”

“Sunwoo, Ri?”

“No, Sun, Woori.”

The man mumbled my name to himself, then let out a quiet laugh.

“It’s not a funny name.”

“No, it is. It sounds really squishy.”

“What kind of name sounds squishy?”

“You really don’t know anything.”

“Oh yeah? And what do you know, Mr. I-don’t-even-remember-my-own-name?”

Come to think of it, I couldn’t keep calling him “hey” or “deadbeat” forever. People tend to live up to their names, and if I kept calling him that, he might continue acting like one right up to the moment we escaped this island.

“Since it’s come to this, let’s just give you a name.”

I looked around and suddenly spotted something.

“How about Gull, as in the character for ‘to scold’? You’re always getting scolded.”

“Even dogs get better names than that.”

“Then do you have something in mind?”

He looked like he was thinking seriously, then suddenly shuddered like he was grossed out.

“Ugh, this is so cringey.”

What kind of name was he imagining to react like that?

I threw a bunch of suggestions at him, but he shot them all down.

“You’re so picky. Fine, how about ‘Big Fist’?”

I gave him that name because of his strength, but he still refused flat-out.

Then, Suho, who had been silently watching him, finally spoke for the first time.

“Jay.”

“Huh?”

“That’s a rosary, right? Jaden always wore it.”

Several loops of a dark brown rosary were wrapped around the man’s wrist.

“Oh, you’re right.”

“Jaden always went on about ‘Jesus this, Jesus that’, and you’re wearing a rosary too, so why not just go with ‘Jay’?”

After being bombarded with names like Gull, Turtle, Seaweed, and Big Fist, he finally looked relieved to hear a normal human name.

“Kid, you actually have decent ideas sometimes.”

“My name is Suho.”

“Sure, kid.”

Even after getting his own name, he stubbornly refused to call Suho by his.

***

We picked a spot slightly higher up from where our temporary shelter was.

It wasn’t in danger of being swept by waves, and it was closer to a stream. It’s much more convenient and stable than our old site. But there were lots of large rocks buried in the soil, so we had to start by removing those.

The boat had an emergency axe and flashlight, but unfortunately no shovel. Instead, Suho broke apart a water-logged desktop computer case he’d found, and we used that to dig. Of course, it wasn’t even close to sturdy enough to be a proper tool. 

Especially with Jay, who couldn’t control his strength and kept crushing the case every time he grabbed it, so Suho and I had to handle most of the digging. Once we loosened the dirt around the rocks, Jay would come in to pull them out.

We thought we’d be done quickly, but we ended up working until sunset just trying to level the ground. Suho, exhausted, headed back to the shelter right before nightfall, and Jay and I kept going until I finally waved the white flag.

“Let’s finish the rest tomorrow.”

Still, we’d gotten a lot done today, so we should be able to wrap it up by noon tomorrow. Things didn’t go exactly as planned from the start, but all in all, the situation wasn’t bad.

The truly bad thing was something else.

“You reek like hell.”

And that was our collective stink.

The name “Gull” [매기 (Maegi)] is derived from “갈매기” (seagull/gal-mae-gi), but the “갈” (Gal) part comes from the Chinese character “诘”, meaning “to scold”, implying that he’s always being scolded. She’s mockingly calling him “the constantly scolded gull.”