Under the Mistletoe

‘Excuse me, Jihoon—'

My gaze tracked the voice to the other side of the office.

‘—could you—'

‘No.’

I rolled my eyes. Jihoon Kang. The son of our school’s director was working off his debt having crashed his birthday present.

‘. . .Paige?’ Yura turned to me.

I chewed my lip. ‘Yes, Yura?’

Jihoon caught my eye. He shook his head, mouthing: “say no”. I ignored him.

‘I know you’re busy,’ Yura said. ‘But we’ve got a booking for Christmas Day.’

My eyes widened. ‘Who booked this?’

‘I’ll bet it was my dad,’ Jihoon scoffed. ‘We looooove Christmas.’

‘Where is he?’ I made for the door. On my mission to stride across the room, my foot caught on cables.

‘Every time,’ I mumbled.

Jihoon cocked an eyebrow. ‘Mind your step,’ he drawled.

‘Mind your business,’ I shot back.

He shrugged, his computer off, as his legs stretched over his desk. His half-finished coffee sat on top of reports I asked him to sign a week ago.

Director Kang’s office was nextdoor. I went to knock but a hand around my wrist stopped me.

‘Dad’s in a bad mood,’ Jihoon said, uncurling his fingers. ‘Don’t bother.’

‘What did you do this time?’ I asked.

Jihoon scoffed. ‘While I appreciate the assumption, today it’s my sister.’

‘Sister?’

‘Older sister,’ he said. ‘She’s supposed to be taking over this company when Dad retires next year but she’s decided to move to the States with her fiancé. He’s a—’ Jihoon looked me up and down. ‘—foreigner.’

‘Ooh, the devil,’ I mocked.

‘He is in Dad’s eyes,’ Jihoon said. ‘Guess who’s the only child left to take over, now?’

‘Oh.’ Suddenly it wasn’t so funny anymore.

Jihoon’s expression darkened. ‘Anyway,’ he said. ‘Don’t. You’ll only make it worse.’

I cleared my throat. ‘Thanks for coming out here to let me know,’ I said.

Jihoon looked affronted. ‘I didn’t come out here to help you,’ he said. ‘You were about to poke the dragon.’ He folded his arms. ‘I was just on my way to get coffee,’ he walked away.

I thought about the half-finished Americano on his desk.

‘I see,’ I mumbled.

I went to leave, but the door swung open, and Director Kang stared at me like I’d murdered his cat.

‘What do you want?’

*

I’d never admit it aloud, but Jihoon was right. Talking to Director Kang had been a bad decision and I was still reeling. The office door beeped to signal my keycard was declined. 

‘I did warn you,’ Jihoon’s singsong voice said. He stretched his arm over my shoulder and pressed his keycard against the reader. He smelled expensive. 

The machine clicked open. I muttered thanks and made for my desk.

‘Whose Christmas you'gonna ruin?’ Jihoon asked, dropping into his chair. ‘I vote Kevin. I hate that guy.’

‘Why?’ I was confused. ‘Kevin is lovely.’

‘Smug prick corrected my grammar once,’ Jihoon complained. ‘It’s “fewer” than, not “less” than,’ he mocked. ‘It’s conversational.’

I chuckled. ‘He is an English teacher.’

‘He’s a babysitter.’ Jihoon folded his arms. ‘And he’s always hovering around you. He’s weird.’

‘Actually, I’m not going to schedule anyone,’ I said. ‘I’m going to do it myself.’

Jihoon rolled his eyes. ‘You’re not a martyr for doing extra work,’ he scolded.

‘It’s fine.’ I exhaled. ‘Plus, I can do a cooking class with them, and they can eat what we make. Then we don’t need lunch or cleaning staff, either.’ I cracked my neck. ‘That just leaves security.’

There was silence before Jihoon spoke. ‘Mr. Kim needs the money – he’d be happy with the holiday wage.’

‘The security guard?’

Jihoon nodded. ‘That’s why he does all those extra shifts.’

‘How do you—’ I was interrupted by Jihoon’s phone. He answered, left the office, and I didn’t see him again for the rest of the morning.

*

‘We should do Secret Santa!’ Nayla exclaimed.

A chorus of yesses rippled through the office and the next thing I knew we gathered to pull names.

‘Don’t put my name in there,’ Jihoon said in my ear and I stiffened.

‘I didn’t,’ I stated.

‘Aw, come on, Jihoon!’ Nayla pouted. ‘You’re no fun.’

We picked names by the time the bell rang. Suddenly, Jihoon and I were alone.

I grabbed my bag of decorations.

‘You should learn to say no.’ Jihoon didn’t look up from his phone. ‘In the five months I’ve been here, I’ve never heard you say it.’ He paused. 'Except to me.'

My eyes widened. ‘I never—’

‘You’re so courteous to everyone else,’ he pouted. ‘You don’t even greet me in the mornings.’

I snorted. ‘You don’t greet me, either.’

‘Don’t you know Korean culture?’ he asked. ‘You’ve been here long enough to show respect to your seniors.’ He looked up, a playful glint in his eyes. ‘You should greet me first. I’m your manager.’

‘You’re definitely not,’ I scoffed. ‘I’ve never seen you manage anything other than getting yourself coffee.’

He shrugged. ‘Who says I’m not doing something important?’

‘That stack of papers I gave you.’ I was blunt.

Jihoon smirked. ‘You know signing those will mean marketing can change classes according to a school’s demands without informing you?’

My stomach flipped. Yura hadn’t told me that; she said they were marketing reports.

‘I. . . didn’t. . .’ I admitted.

‘They didn’t translate them, huh? It also says they can increase the intake an hour before.’

I shut my eyes.

‘Anyway, don’t worry about it—’ he shrugged. ‘—I haven’t signed them, and I won’t.’

‘Thanks,’ I mumbled.

He blew a raspberry. ‘Please, I’m only doing it to annoy Dad,’ he replied.

‘Oh.’ I turned to leave, the bag of decorations in my hand. ‘Are you sure you don’t want to do Secret Santa? For the team?’

His laugh was dry. ‘Absolutely not,’ he said. ‘I hate Christmas.’

I nodded and walked out.

*

I was decorating when I heard yelling. I couldn’t make out what the director and Jihoon were arguing about, so I ignored them as I stood on a chair to hang some mistletoe.

Suddenly the door flew open, and I teetered, grabbing the doorframe for support. Jihoon huffed past, steading me, before the mistletoe unstuck itself and kamikazed to his feet. He tossed it into the trashcan. The director’s door slammed, startling me.

‘Hey! You can't do that!’ I rescued the mistletoe.

‘It’s my office,’ Jihoon muttered. ‘I can do what I want, and I don’t want Christmas decorations.’

‘It’s not your office,’ I said. ‘It’s our office.’

‘No.’ Jihoon shot daggers. ‘That’s what the argument you were eavesdropping on was about. This place—’ he outstretched his arms, ‘—all mine.’

‘You know, it’s fine for you,’ I said. ‘Korea is your home. But for the ESL teachers, it’s nice to decorate or play Secret Santa because we miss home.’

‘Then leave,’ Jihoon said coldly.

I didn’t mean to, but I let out a soft whimper as my eyes filled. Jihoon’s head snapped up. ‘I...’ he started. 'You don’t have to leave...’

I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. I’d never seen Jihoon look concerned before. His eyes narrowed as his eyebrows knit.

‘It’s not your fault.’ My bum smacked against the chair with a thud. ‘I’m overwhelmed, lonely, and I can’t go home.’ I waved dismissively. ‘I’ll be fine.’ I wiped my eyes. ‘I just need a minute.’

‘Why can’t you go home?’ Jihoon asked. ‘Are you a criminal?’

I snorted. ‘I’ve been applying to jobs back home for the last two years, but I’m not qualified to do anything.’ I flicked the mistletoe’s leaves. ‘I’m too old to start from scratch. So…’ I glanced at my desk. ‘I stay.’

I threw the mistletoe back into the trashcan, shaking myself out.

‘I guess I thought decorations. . .’ I sniffed, wiping my nose. ‘Sorry, it won’t happen again.’

Jihoon studied me but didn't speak. My cheeks flamed.

‘We don’t celebrate Christmas,’ Jihoon said, finally. His voice was small and soft, and it caught me off guard.

Jihoon exhaled. ‘My parents sent me to boarding school in the U.K. when I was six. I didn’t know anything about Christmas.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘But I was surrounded by rich kids.’

The clock ticked and I assumed that was the end of the story until he let out a disheartened scoff.

‘I remember learning about Santa,’ Jihoon said. ‘I relive that Christmas over and over, every year. We had to write our Christmas lists.’ His eyes glassed over. ‘I wanted a yellow remote control race car. Christmas Day came and went,’ he sighed. ‘The other kids showed off their toys. They said I must’ve been naughty and that’s why Santa didn’t come.’ He half laughed. ‘I believed them.’

In my already fragile state, I teared up again and pressed my sleeve into the corner of my eye.

‘Anyway,’ he said. ‘I later realised I’d been pretty good, but I still hadn’t gotten a present. So, I figured I might as well be naughty if that was the case.’ He shrugged, his usual smug demeanour returning. ‘Been naughty ever since.’

He moved around his desk to give me an awkward pat on the shoulder.

‘Your decorations are cute,’ he said. ‘But the mistletoe is…’ He arched an eyebrow. ‘Nobody in here wants to kiss anyone else, right?’

He was right. I sighed.

‘Right,’ I agreed. ‘Sorry about your race car.’

‘It’s okay.’ He cocked his head. ‘I used my dad’s money to buy myself a real one for my birthday last year.’

I rolled my eyes. ‘Yeah.’ I scoffed. ‘Which you then crashed.’

‘Actually,’ he said, lowering his voice. ‘I didn’t crash it. My sister did.’

Before I had the chance to voice my surprise, the bell rang, and he walked out.

*

I picked Christy for Secret Santa. The budget was low and making it difficult to find something that didn’t look tacky. I wandered the shopping district, hoping to find something at one of the stalls but, so far, nothing.

I was distracted. I kept thinking about Jihoon. I was mulling over his story when a pair of earmuffs grabbed my attention. They were pink and had a USB charger to heat them. They were perfect for Christy. Just the right amount of fun and practical while also being so gaudy they might be considered Instagram fashionable.

‘How much for these?’

‘For you?’ The stall owner gave me a half-toothless smile. ‘Twenty.’

‘Hmm…’ The limit was $10 but I could cheat a bit. ‘Fifteen?’

‘No, no.’ He shook his head. ‘USB. Twenty.’

I sighed, giving up, when a toy on the top shelf twinkled in my peripheral vision. A bright yellow, remote control race car.

I couldn’t.

…Could I?

The man’s gaze followed mine and he wiggled a finger at me. ‘Buy this—’ he pointed to the car. ‘Earmuffs: fifteen.’

I chewed my lip. ‘How much?’

‘Ten.’

I stared at the car, begging for divine intervention. Jihoon and I were not friends. This would be weird, right?

‘Okay,’ the man said as though I were holding him at gunpoint. ‘Earmuffs, ten with the car.’

‘Deal,’ I heard myself say.

*

I wandered towards the office. Christy’s present was tucked into the bag hanging on my arm, alongside the car. I hadn’t decided if I was giving it to Jihoon yet.

My keycard was gracious, and I was granted entry. I was startled to see Jihoon there before me, standing at his desk, scribbling. I turned so as not to interrupt him but couldn’t help the gasp that escaped me. The room was covered in decorations and fairy lights. They twinkled like stars, casting a soft glow throughout the office.

‘You like it?’ Jihoon asked.

‘I love it,’ I whispered. ‘It’s, um, nice to see you on time,’ I remarked, unsure of what else to say.

‘Your decorations were kinda sad,’ he said nonchalantly. ‘I had to come in super early.’

‘Are you—’ I stopped. ‘Where did that come from?’ I eyed the mistletoe on the doorframe. ‘I thought I threw it out…’

‘I rescued it,’ Jihoon said, reddening. ‘I put it back up this morning.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Maybe Kevin will like it.’

I pursed my lips.

‘Anyway.’ Jihoon clinched a gift under his arm. ‘I’m going to get lost before the teachers get here.’ He stepped out. ‘As you might recall, Santa presents are kind of traumatic for me.’ He said it jokingly, but a part of me wondered if he was hiding honesty in his humour.

‘Who is your gift for?’ I asked, deciding to be nosy. ‘Your girlfriend?’

‘I’m single,’ Jihoon said. ‘But if that’s your way of asking me out, you’re going to have to do better.’ He nodded. ‘I decorated a whole room for you.’

'Please,’ I scoffed. ‘You annoy me enough as a co-worker. I imagine you’re worse as a boyfriend.’

‘Imagine me as your boyfriend often, do you?’

‘Literally never.’

‘It’s for the security guard,’ he said, motioning to the gift. He dawdled at the door before leaving.

‘Oh, Jihoon!’ I called, suddenly realising I wouldn’t see him until the New Year.

He spun. ‘Mmm?’

He was closer to me than I’d expected, his face barely more than a few inches from mine. I watched him catch his breath.

‘S-sorry,’ he said, but he didn’t step back.

‘Happy–’ My brain buffered. ‘Um, Christmas.’ I didn’t step back, either.

He smiled. ‘Merry Christmas.’

Jihoon’s gaze wandered up and mine followed his. The mistletoe hung between us at a perfect position: egging us on.

I waited for him to say something sarcastic, but he didn’t. Jihoon tilted as though to kiss my cheek and my heart thumped.

But we never got there.

‘—why come in on Christmas Eve when we don’t have students.’ Christy’s voice came from around the corner and Jihoon jumped away.

‘Uh, anyway,’ he said.

‘Yeah.’ I blinked.

‘Morning,’ Christy said. ‘Ugh, what’s with the mistletoe? Gross.’

‘Oh,’ Jihoon said. ‘I put that up. I thought it was a western tradition.’

I let my gaze meet his. He gave me a small smile and left.

*

I was zoned out when I walked into the office the next day.

‘Morning.’ Jihoon greeted.

‘Morning,’ I said, not realising until I was at my desk that he was there. And he’d greeted me first. When I turned back to question him, he was holding the race car and staring at me with all the gleeful delight of a child.

‘O-oh...’ Panic welled inside me. I’d left it on his desk, thinking I’d have time to remove it. He wasn’t supposed to be here. ‘Looks like Santa didn’t forget you this year—’ my laugh was tinged with embarrassment, ‘—you must’ve been relatively good.’

‘Well,’ Jihoon started. ‘I’m glad someone noticed my efforts.’ He pushed the remote and the wheels spun to life. ‘Why’d you get me this?’ he asked. ‘Because of the decorations?’

‘Who says it was me?’ I could hear my voice shaking.

‘Considering you’re the only person I’ve ever told… aside from my therapist…’ He chuckled. ‘It’s a safe bet. The only thing he ever gives me is the bill.’ He grinned. ‘I’ve actually got a gift for you, too.’

‘Oh?’ I scanned his desk. ‘What is it?’

‘It’s me.’

‘What?’

‘N-not in a lawsuit kind of way,’ he added. ‘I’m here to take your classes today so you can have the day off to… spend with your boyfriend?’ His nose wrinkled. ‘Or Kevin.’

‘I appreciate the gesture,’ I said. ‘But you can’t teach.’

‘They’re making sandwiches, right?’ he asked. ‘I can do that. Then we can watch a Christmas movie.’

‘That’s sweet of you.’ I smiled. ‘But their parents would complain if all they did was make sandwiches and watch a Christmas movie.’

‘What kind of parents send their kids to school on Christmas Day anyway?’

‘Probably the same kind who send their kids to fancy schools overseas but then don’t get them a race car for Christmas.’ I winced. Maybe that was too harsh.

‘You’re right,’ Jihoon sighed. ‘The worst kind.’ He dragged his finger across the wheels. ‘I love it. Thank you.’

‘Don’t let your sister crash this one,’ I said. I wanted to pat myself on the back for sounding so casual when, internally, I was like a warzone.

We stood in amicable silence until I decided it was time to set up.

‘I’m going to prepare the kitchen,’ I said.

He placed the race car on his desk with gentle hands. ‘I’ll help you.’

*

I was ready to fall into bed by the time we waved the kids off.

‘Hey,’ I said. ‘Thanks for coming today.’

‘I had fun,’ Jihoon replied. ‘This is the Christmas I want to relive from now on.’

‘You know—’ my tone was coy, ‘—you’re also not the worst trainee teacher I’ve ever seen. You’ve got potential.’

The motor of the race car whirled to life as it tried to make its way over to me, only to get stuck on cables.

We both went to free it at the same time. The mistletoe was taped to its hood.

My brow creased. ‘Why is the mistletoe taped to your car?’

‘Christy didn’t seem to like it on the door,’ Jihoon said. ‘Plus, I didn’t want to take any chances you’d kiss Kevin.’

‘I’d never—’ I stopped.

Jihoon was staring at me with a soft hopefulness, a red tint creeping up his cheeks as he tugged the mistletoe from the car.

‘Can I kiss you?’ he asked.

I held my breath. ‘Yes.’

He squeezed my hand as he pulled me in, the hairs on my arms tingled as goosebumps zinged all over my body. I wrapped my arms around his neck, feeling his breath on my face. He closed the gap, pressing his lips against mine. His kiss was tentative and careful, and I felt the mistletoe brush against my cheek as he let it fall.

‘Merry Christmas,’ he whispered against my lips.