The next morning, I spent the first day of the holidays sunbathing at home. After a refreshing shower, I slipped into a mustard-yellow bikini and settled onto the sun lounger beside the pool. Next to me sat a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice and a bowl of ripe, juicy strawberries.
This is the life.
Thanks to my father's generosity over the years, my mother and I had managed to build our own little sanctuary. Our enormous house was a masterpiece of comfort and luxury. The basement held an indoor swimming pool, a fully equipped exercise area, a bar, and a bathroom. The first floor featured a grand foyer, three bathrooms, a spacious kitchen, the dining room, a game room, a small formal sitting room, the main living room, and even an attached guest house — though we rarely had enough visitors to justify it. Upstairs, there was a landing with a cozy lounge, a family bathroom, and four main bedrooms. The backyard was an oasis of its own: a sprawling swimming pool, a fire pit for cooler nights, and a large parking area to accommodate our collection of cars.
Oh, and did I mention we were filthy rich? Thanks to my father's talents and hard work, money was never an issue.
"Someone came home very late last night?"
I recognized my mother's voice before I even opened my eyes. I shifted my sunglasses up to rest on my head and looked to the side. There she was, standing over me with her arms crossed and a look of gentle concern etched across her face.
My mother was, without a doubt, a beautiful woman. Back in her youth, she'd been a glamour model — famous in her hometown in Korea. It was how my father had found her, a devoted fan who had travelled all the way from America just to meet her.
Her thick, wavy black hair framed her heart-shaped face perfectly, shimmering as the sunlight caught every strand. Her golden suntan highlighted her smooth, clear complexion and high cheekbones, which drew the eye to her elegant bone structure. Her large, emerald eyes were captivating, able to pierce through to your soul and read your thoughts. And her lips — small, full, and usually painted with a soft red lipstick — completed the picture. When she smiled, her even white teeth lit up her entire face. A stunning woman, through and through. Sometimes I wondered how someone like me — an average-looking girl with bright blue hair and black eye makeup — could be her daughter.
"Maggie?"
I shook my head to clear the fogginess. Almost immediately, I regretted it. My body ached all over — every muscle protested from yesterday's training.
Placing a hand on the back of my neck, I sighed. "Hello, Mother."
"Where were you last night? You came home later than usual."
Running a hand through my blue hair, I answered, "I had training with Vince."
"Again?" She shook her head with a sigh. "What was it this time?"
"Krav Maga."
She tutted. "For God's sake. Last week it was swimming, the week before that boxing, and before that, track running."
I nodded. "I know."
"You're doing too much." She moved closer and gently ran her fingers through my hair. "Don't you think you're pushing yourself too hard?"
I shrugged. "Maybe. But I'm only doing what Father asked. There's got to be a reason he wants me to train so much."
"But you need to slow down, Maggie."
I smiled reassuringly. "Eomma. (Mother) You don't need to worry about me."
"Worrying about you is all I do, darling. Just promise me you'll take it easy, gwaenchanh-a? (Okay?)"
"Okay. I promise."
She smiled, clearly relieved. "That's my girl."
Just as I was about to slide my sunglasses back on, I noticed her reaching for the bowl of strawberries, her expression suddenly a little tense.
"Is everything okay?" I asked.
She nodded, taking a bite. "Everything's fine. I just wanted to make sure you're okay being out here alone while I handle a few things."
"I'm fine, really."
She raised an eyebrow. "Hwagsilhabnikka? (Are you sure?)"
I rolled my eyes and sighed. "Yes, Mother. I'm sure."
Her tone hardened slightly. "Maggie?"
"What? I'm fine, honestly."
My mother raised both hands in surrender. "Okay, fine. Sorry I worry so much about you being on your own all the time."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked.
She shrugged.
"Mother, you know I can take care of myself. That's why I'm training with Vince."
Her eyes darkened just a little. "I know, but I wish you had some friends — someone to hang out with. I feel like I leave you alone too much."
That was unexpected. My mother never cared about my lack of friends. She knew I liked solitude and was perfectly capable on my own. So why was she bringing this up now?
I stared ahead, trying to figure out her meaning. "I'm fine on my own. Neodo al janh-a.(You know that.)"
"I understand that, but Maggie, you're always by yourself, and it saddens me. You don't have any friends, and now you have six weeks of holidays ahead. You should be doing typical teenager things — partying, meeting boys, going on dates. Instead, you're here, at home with me."
I turned to her. "Mother, you know I'm not about that life. Besides, I'm not interested in partying or dating."
"But you're so beautiful."
I rolled my eyes, and she chuckled. She knew I hated when she said that — it was a word that made me recoil as a kid.
She pointed toward the house next door. "What about the boys who live there?"
"What about them?" I asked, nonchalantly.
She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.
I grimaced.
"What? Aren't they your age?"
That wasn't the point. I'd been told to stay away from them.
"I think the youngest brother's my age, and the other two are older. The oldest is about twenty-nine."
"And you're twenty-five. What's the problem?"
My eyes widened. "Mother, I'm not interested. I met them yesterday, and they're not nice people. Guys like that, you stay away from."
"But they go to the same university as you, right?" she asked.
That's what she took from all that?
"Yeah, and they're dicks who think they own the campus."
"Maggie!" She popped another strawberry in her mouth. "Don't say things like that. You don't know them."
"And you do?" I sighed and got up from the sun lounger.
This was classic Mom: pester until she won. She should know by now I rarely listen. I just wanted peace and quiet, but if I stayed, I knew she wouldn't let it go.
"What I'm saying is you shouldn't judge a book by its cover. You always do, Maggie."
I grabbed the glass of orange juice and drank it all, then took the strawberry bowl from her and started walking toward the house.
"What have I said now?"
I closed my eyes, took a breath, exhaled, and slowly turned. "Nothing."
She came up and playfully nipped my chin. "Liar. I upset you."
"I'm not upset."
Pissed, yes.
"You're not?"
I shook my head.
"Then why were you leaving?"
"I was going to lie down and watch TV in bed for a while." I murmured.
She smiled softly. "Okay. But I thought maybe we could take a walk along the pier and grab a bite tonight."
I bit my lip. "I can't tonight."
She frowned. "Wae? (Why?)"
"I have a fitness class. With Vince."
She put her hands on her hips. "But it's Saturday. Take the night off."
I shook my head. "I can't."
"Maggie," she said sternly. "Let me handle Vince. I don't care if your father hears about this. You're cancelling your fitness class and coming with me to the pier tonight. End of discussion."