All I've ever wanted is for Jeon Jungkook to leave me alone. For him to back off — you know, just give me some space.
It all started the summer before second grade when our moving van pulled into his neighborhood. And since we're now about done with the eighth grade, that, my friend, makes more than half a decade of strategic avoidance and social discomfort.
He didn't just barge into my life. He barged and shoved and wedged his way into my life. Did we invite him to get into our moving van and start climbing all over boxes? No! But that's exactly what she did, taking over and showing off like only Jeon Jungkook can.
My dad tried to stop him. ❝Hey!❞ he says as Jungkook catapults himself on board. ❝What are you doing? You're getting mud everywhere!❞ So true, too. His shoes were, like, caked with the stuff.
Jungkook didn't hop out, though. Instead, he planted his rear end on the floor and started pushing a big box with his feet.
❝Don't you want some help?❞ Jungkook glanced my way. ❝It sure looks like you need it.❞
I didn't like the implication. And even though my dad had been tossing me the same sort of look all week, I could tell — he didn't like this boy either. ❝Hey! Don't do that,❞ he warned Jungkook. ❝There are some really valuable things in that box.❞
❝Oh. Well, how about this one?❞ Jungkook scoots over to a box labeled LENOX and looks my way again. ❝We should push it together!❞
❝No, no, no!❞ my dad says, then pulls him up by the arm. ❝Why don't you run home? Your mother's probably wondering where you are.❞
This was the beginning of my soon-to-be-acute awareness that the boy cannot take a hint. Of any kind. Does he zip on home like a kid should when they've been invited to leave? No. He says, ❝Oh, my Papa knows where I am. She said it was fine.❞ Then he points across the street and says, ❝We just live right over there.❞
My father, Kim Namjoon looks to where he's pointing and mutters, ❝Oh boy.❞ Then he looks at me and winks as he says, ❝Tae, isn't it time for you to go inside and help your mother?❞
I knew right off that this was a ditch play. And I didn't think about it until later, but Ditch wasn't a play I'd run with my dad before. Face it, pulling a ditch is not something discussed with dads. It's like, against parental law to tell your kid it's okay to ditch someone, no matter how annoying or muddy they might be.
But there he was, putting the play in motion, and man, he didn't have to wink twice. I smiled and said, ❝Sure thing!❞ Then jumped off the liftgate and headed for my new front door.
I heard Jungkook coming after me but I couldn't believe it. Maybe it just sounded like he was chasing me; maybe he was really going the other way. But before I got up the nerve to look, he blasted right past me, grabbing my arm and yanking me along.
This was too much. I planted myself and was about to tell him to get lost when the weirdest thing happened. I was making this big windmill motion to break away from him, but somehow on the downswing, my hand wound up tangling into his. I couldn't believe it. There I was, holding the mud monkey's hand!
I tried to shake him off, but he just clamped on tight and yanked me along, saying, ❝C'mon!❞
My Papa came out of the house and immediately got the world's sappiest look on his face. ❝Well, hello,❞ he says to Jungkook. ❝Hi!❞
I'm still trying to pull free, but the boy's got me in a death grip. My Papa's grinning, looking at our hands and my fiery red face. ❝And what's your name, honey?❞
❝Jeon Jungkook. I live right over there,❞ he says, pointing with his unoccupied hand.
❝Well, I see you've met my son,❞ he says, still grinning away.
❝Uh-huh!❞
Finally, I break free and do the only manly thing available when you're seven years old — I dive behind my mother.
Papa puts his arm around me and says, ❝Taehyung, honey, why don't you show Jungkook around the house?❞
I flash him help and warning signals with every part of my body, but he's not receiving them. Then he shakes me off and says, ❝Go on.❞
Jungkook would've tramped right in if my Papa hadn't noticed his shoes and told him to take them off. And after those were off, my Papa told him that her dirty socks had to go, too. Jungkook wasn't embarrassed. Not a bit. He just peeled them off and left them in a crusty heap on our porch.
I didn't exactly give him a tour. I locked myself in the bathroom instead. After about ten minutes of yelling back at him that no, I wasn't coming out anytime soon, things got quiet out in the hall. Another ten minutes went by before I got the nerve to peek out the door.
No Jungkook.
I snuck out and looked around, and yes! He was gone.
Not a very sophisticated ditch, but hey, I was only seven.
My troubles were far from over, though. Every day he came back, over and over again. ❝Can hyung play?❞ I could hear him asking from my hiding place behind the couch. ❝Is he ready yet?❞ One time he even cut across the yard and looked through my window. I spotted him in the nick of time and dove under my bed, but man, that right there tells you something about Jeon Jungkook. He's got no concept of personal space. No respect for privacy. The world is his playground, and watch out below — Jungkook's on the slide!
Luckily for me, my dad was willing to run block. And he did it over and over again. He told him I was busy or sleeping or just plain gone. He was a lifesaver.
My sister, on the other hand, tried to sabotage me any chance she got. Jennie's like that. She's four years older than me, and buddy, I've learned from watching her how not to run your life. She's got ᴀɴᴛᴀɢᴏɴɪᴢᴇ written all over her. Just look at her — not cross-eyed or with your tongue sticking out or anything — just look at her and you've started an argument.
I used to knock-down-drag-out with her, but it's just not worth it. Girls don't fight fair. They pull your hair and gouge you and pinch you; then they run off gasping to mummy when you try and defend yourself with a fist. Then you get locked into time-out, and for what? No, my friend, the secret is, don't snap at the bait. Let it dangle. Swim around it. Laugh it off. After a while, they'll give up and try to lure someone else.
At least that's the way it is with Jennie. And the bonus of having her as a pain-in-the-rear sister was figuring out that this method works on everyone.
Teachers, jerks at school, even Papa, Kim Seokjin, and Dad, Kim Namjoon. Seriously. There's no winning arguments with your parents, so why get all pumped up over them? It is way better to dive down and get out of the way than it is to get clobbered by some parental tidal wave.
The funny thing is, Jennie's still clueless when it comes to dealing with Papa and Dad. She goes straight into thrash mode and is too busy drowning in the argument to take a deep breath and dive for calmer water.
And she thinks I'm stupid.
Anyway, true to form, Jennie tried to bait me with Jungkook those first few days. She even snuck him past Dad once and marched him all around the house, hunting me down. I wedged myself up on the top shelf of my closet, and lucky for me, neither of them looked up. A few minutes later I heard Dad yell at Jungkook to get off the antique furniture, and once again, he got booted.
I don't think I went outside that whole first week. I helped unpack stuff, watched TV and just kind of hung around while my Papa and dad arranged and rearranged the furniture, debating whether Empire settees and French Rococo tables should even be put in the same room.
So believe me, I was dying to go outside. But every time I checked through the window, I could see Jungkook showing off in his yard. He'd be heading a soccer ball or doing high kicks with it or dribbling it up and down their driveway. And when he wasn't busy showing off, he'd just sit on the curb with the ball between his feet, staring at our house.
My Papa didn't understand why it was so awful that ⁍that cute little boy⁌ had held my hand. Eomma thought I should make friends with him. ❝I thought you liked soccer, honey. Why don't you go out there and kick the ball around?❞
⁍Because I didn't want to be kicked around, that's why⁌. Although I couldn't say it like that at the time, I still had enough sense at age seven and a half to know that Jeon Jungkook was dangerous.
Unavoidably dangerous, as it turns out. The minute I walked into Mrs Tzuyu's second-grade classroom, I was dead meat. ❝Taehyungie!❞ Jungkook squeals. ❝You're here.❞ Then he charges across the room and tackles me.
Mrs. Tzuyu tried to explain this attack away as a ⁍welcome hug,⁌ but man, that was no hug. That was a front-line, take-'em-down tackle. And even though I shook him off, it was too late. I was branded for life. Everyone jeered, ❝Where's your girl-friend, Taehyung?❞ ❝Are you married yet, Taehyung?❞ And then when he chased me around at recess and tried to lay kisses on me, the whole school started singing, ❝Taehyung and Jungkook sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G…❞
My first year in town was a disaster.
Third grade wasn't much better. He was still hot on my trail every time I turned around. Same with the fourth. But then in fifth grade, I took action.
It started out slow — one of those Nah-that's-not-right ideas you get and forget. But the more I played with the idea, the more I thought, What better way to ward Jungkook off? What better way to say to him, ⁍Jungkook, you are not my type?⁌
And so, my friend, I hatched the plan.
I asked Olivia Rodrigo out.
To fully appreciate the brilliance of this, you have to understand that Jungkook hates Olivia Rodrigo. He always has, though it beats me why. Olivia's nice and she's friendly and she's got a lot of hair. What's not to like? But Jungkook hated her, and I was going to make this little gem of knowledge the solution to my problem.
What I was thinking was that Olivia would eat lunch at our table and maybe walk around a little with me. That way, anytime Jungkook was around, all I'd have to do was hang a little closer to Olivia and things would just naturally take care of themselves. What happened, though, is that Olivia took things way too seriously.
She went around telling everybody — including Jungkook — that we were in love.
In no time Jungkook and Olivia got into some kind of catfight, and while Olivia was recovering from that, my supposed friend Woosik — who had been totally behind this plan — told him what I was up to. He's always denied it, but I've since learned that his code of honor is easily corrupted by weepy females.
That afternoon the principal tried cross-examining me, but I wouldn't cop to anything. I just kept telling her that I was sorry and that I really didn't understand what had happened. Finally, she let me go.
Olivia cried for days and followed me around school sniffling and making me feel like a real jerk, which was even worse than having Jungkook as a shadow.
Everything blew over at the one-week mark, though, when Olivia officially dumped me and started going out with Jackson. Then Jungkook started up with the goo-goo eyes again, and I was back to square one.
Now, in sixth grade things changed, though whether they improved is hard to say. I don't remember Jungkook actually chasing me in the sixth grade. But I do remember him sniffing me.
Yes, my friend, I said sniffing.
And you can blame that on our teacher, Mr. Kang. He stuck Jungkook to me like glue. Mr. Kang has some kind of doctorate in seating arrangements or something because he analyzed and scrutinized and practically baptized the seats we had to sit in. And of course, he decided to seat Jungkook right next to me.
Jeon Jungkook is the kind of annoying person who makes a point of letting you know he's smart. His hand is the first one up; his answers are usually complete dissertations; his projects are always turned in early and used as weapons against the rest of the class. Teachers always have to hold their project up and say, ❝This is what I'm looking for, class. This is an example of A-plus work.❞ Add all the extra credit he does to an already perfect score, and I swear he's never gotten less than 120 percent in any subject.
But after Mr. Kang stuck Jungkook right next to me, his annoying knowledge of all subjects far and wide came in handy. See, suddenly Jungkook's perfect answers, written in perfect cursive, were right across the aisle, just an eye-shot away. You wouldn't believe the number of answers I snagged from him. I started getting A's and B's on everything! It was great!
But then Mr. Kang pulled the shift. He had some new ideas for ⁍optimizing positional latitude and longitude,⁌ and when the dust finally settled, I was sitting right in front of Jeon Jungkook.
This is where the sniffing comes in. That maniac started leaning forward and sniffing my hair. He'd edge his nose practically up to my scalp and sniff-sniff-sniff.
I tried elbowing and back-kicking. I tried scooting my chair way forward or putting my backpack between me and the seat. Nothing helped. He'd just scoot up, too, or lean over a little farther and sniff-sniff-sniff.
I finally asked Mr. Kang to move me, but he wouldn't do it. Something about not wanting to disturb the delicate balance of educational energies.
Whatever. I was stuck with him sniffing. And since I couldn't see him perfectly penned answers anymore, my grades took a dive. Especially in spelling.
Then one time, during a test, Jungkook's in the middle of sniffing my hair when he notices that I've blown a spelling word. A lot of words. Suddenly the sniffing stops and the whispering starts. At first, I couldn't believe it. Is Jeon Jungkook cheating? But sure enough, he was spelling words for me, right in my ear.
Jungkook'd always been sly about sniffing, which really bugged me because no one ever noticed him doing it, but he was just as sly about giving me answers, which was okay by me. The bad thing about it was that I started counting on his spelling in my ear. I mean, why study when you don't have to, right? But after a while, taking all those answers made me feel sort of indebted to him. How can you tell someone to bug off or quit sniffing you when you owe them? It's, you know, wrong.
So I spent the sixth grade somewhere between uncomfortable and unhappy, but I kept thinking that next year, next year, things would be different. We'd be in junior high — a big school — in different classes. It would be a world with too many people to worry about ever seeing Jeon Jungkook again.
It was finally, finally going to be over.