1 – 25-year-old Waist Public Service Bachelor

“Teacher, can I ask you something?”

In a classroom noisy enough to not be heard by the class next door.

The female student sitting in the front row cut through the chatter and asked a question.

I nodded my head.

“What is it?”

“Do you have a girlfriend, teacher?”

A girlfriend…

Fresh faced at 25 years old, in my 23 years of life I hadn’t made a ‘girlfriend’ even once.

It wasn’t that I wasn’t interested in women or had an inclination towards the same s*x.

‘Who has time to worry about women when making a living is so hard.’

My father who passed away when I was young.

Because of that, my family’s already poor financial situation became even more dire.

Starting in middle school I worked part time jobs handing out flyers, and as soon as I entered high school, after school I worked part time jobs, and on the weekends I worked labor jobs, busily making money.

Of course my mother worked too, but with her bad leg, she couldn’t even do common factory work, so she was limited to just doing side work from home.

If it wasn’t for me, the only son, there would be no one to make money for our family.

‘With this kind of life, how could I have a girlfriend.’

Faced with the innocent questioning unique to students flying at me, I awkwardly smiled and answered.

“Sadly no, I don’t have one.”

“Really?”

Hearing my answer, the female student’s eyes opened wide in surprise.

Thinking there was nothing particularly surprising about it, I lightly laughed it off, and she asked again.

“Why?”

“Well… I guess I just haven’t met someone I’m attracted to yet.”

To her ‘why’ question I concealed my destitute family circumstances and gave an appropriately vague answer.

‘No need to gab on to the kids about it.’

Just as I was trying to end this topic, the female student seemed to grasp something from my words, and spoke with an interested expression.

“So if not yet… teacher, could you be a bachelor?”

“You could say that.”

At my words, she made an expression I’d expect to see on a variety show, opening her eyes wide once again.

As expected, girls this age react so sensitively.

‘Kids these days are scary, but she doesn’t seem to be.’

I had heard that I’d be serving my public service duty at the high school I attended, and was glad that it was close and I’d save transportation costs, but then I heard rumors here and there about delinquent kids, and was pointlessly scared.

However, now that I’m actually here, contrary to the rumors the kids are surprisingly innocent and pure.

‘Of course there are bound to be kids who drink, smoke and cause trouble.’

But that happened in our day too, so you can’t call it a trait of kids these days.

Lost in these thoughts as the class chattered on without me, a voice suddenly called out to me.

“Teacher, you’re a bachelor?”

“You don’t seem like a bachelor though.”

“Or could you have…different tastes?”

Suddenly excluding me from the conversation, the students started chattering.

“Then always having lunch with the P.E. teacher…!”

“…I like women, so please don’t make weird assumptions.”

Worried they might imagine something dangerous and a weird rumor might spread, I firmly asserted myself.

Then the female student in the front row, her face now a bit flushed, threw out a question.

“Then…which do you prefer, older or younger?”

It was obvious from her blushing face and prying tone what her intentions were.

‘Personally I do prefer younger but…’

Looking at her face, I recalled news I saw once online.

[A social service worker serving at a high school in Gyeonggi-do found to be in an inappropriate relationship with a student…shocking!]

“…”

Just thinking about it makes me dizzy.

Of course I have no intentions of dating an underage girl.

However, one wrong word and a rumor could spread that I, a public service worker, seduced her – whether true or not I could be doomed. So I had to always be careful.

‘I wonder what’s so good about being a public service worker that makes them act like that.’

With mediocre looks that were neither ugly nor good looking, and a height that just missed 180cm, barely above average.

Perhaps it was awe of adults, but the occasional female student showed excessive interest in my utterly ordinary self like this.

‘Of course it feels nice but…’

Since that attention wasn’t something I could just enjoy, I concealed my unease and told a white lie.

“I actually prefer older women.”

“…Is that so?”

At my response the female student seemed a bit disappointed, slightly letting her head droop.

Thinking that was the end of it, she again grabbed me and interrogated.

“Then! Between short hair and long natural hair, which do you like more?”

“Long natural hair.”

She blurts out the opposite traits of the neat bangs in front of her without a second thought, wilting like a wilted stem.

Seeing her like that inexplicably softens my heart and I glance around, wondering how I should handle this.

“So which do you prefer,mbti I or E?!”

She continues pushing with the persistence of someone trying to make a sale. Seeing the female student, my heart, which had weakened for a moment, immediately fled. Thanks to that I was able to harden my resolve and say:

“I.”

Not you, that’s for sure.

*

“Ah…I’m tired.”

After finishing class, I returned to the library, my usual haunt, and collapsed atop a desk.

“I never imagined I’d be back in a high school classroom at my age.”

Normally those doing public service wouldn’t have to enter classrooms during school hours.

The gym teacher, the only one close to my age that I’m friendly with, suddenly had a meeting come up and asked me to oversee his class in his stead, to make sure the kids didn’t just mess around.

In truth, substituting and overseeing self-study periods has become commonplace now, so I’ve grown somewhat accustomed to it, but no matter how many times I experience it, the barrage of questions that burst forth when I enter the classroom never gets any easier to adapt to.

With a sigh at the fatigue caused by the female student who sat up front pestering me the entire self-study period, lively voices reached me through the open window from the school athletic field.

“Yo! Pass!”

Looking outside at the shouts, I saw guys running around kicking a ball during gym class, and girls chatting away on the benches.

And a couple holding hands and canoodling in a corner of the field.

“Youth is in full bloom.”

Despite not having properly enjoyed such a golden time myself, instinctively those words slipped out.

My own awkward adolescence devoid of any opportunities with girls due to my part-time job.

‘Well, it’s not like I didn’t go crazy messing around with Nam-jung and the guys at school.’

But that was only at school. After school and on weekends I hardly ever went out to play with friends.

And despite all that I didn’t even study hard and went straight into physical labor jobs after high school, ending up with a herniated disc from overwork in my early 20s.

With the government’s measly monthly wages I could barely scrape by, busy worrying about making next month’s rent despite having the title of civil servant.

“What good is a girlfriend to a guy like me?”

Just looking out at the innocent scene outside made my heart ache, comparing it to my own unremarkable school days and my current circumstances little different.

Everything invited comparison.

‘I’m not even mad about it.’

There was no reason to be gloomy and pessimistic about my situation.

Having grown up in financially strained circumstances I was already used to it. I simply envied what others had, like watching wealthy celebrities on TV.

“I should take a nap.”

‘There’s still 2 periods until lunch break, and I have nothing scheduled for this morning anyway, so it should be fine.’

Pushing aside his complicated feelings, he flopped back in the chair as if sprawling out to sleep.

The soft cushion embraced his butt and neck, his eyes naturally drifted shut, and as usual he fell asleep.

*

“Um…”

An irritating voice drifted to my ear.

I had fallen into such a deep sleep that it took quite some time for my groggy mind to become alert again.

When I finally cracked my eyes open, there was a female student looking at me, books in hand.

“…Yeah?”

She looks familiar, where have I seen her?

Small stature, long hair down to her waist, and a docile impression that brings puppies to mind.

I definitely recognized her from somewhere but couldn’t pin it down, a vague, ambiguous feeling.

Like…

accidentally running into an old classmate on the street.

“Joo-woon?”

“Oh…yes?”

Seeing me still seated in a daze, she cautiously spoke again.

“You shouldn’t sleep here no matter how tired you are. Lunch break will be over soon, so let’s go back to class together.”

“…Huh?”

Am I still half-asleep?

Or are the kids playing a prank on me?

Her suggestion to go back to class together left me confused, unable to grasp the situation, so I remained silent.

“Ah, are you not feeling well? I can let the teacher know and you can go to the nurse’s office if you want.”

Aside from not understanding the situation…

Listening to her gentle voice, I soon felt a familiar yet frustrating sensation, like when you try to search something but once the search bar is open, you’ve forgotten what you meant to look up.

‘Where have I seen her before?’

As my mind woke up bit by bit, the awkwardly smiling girl came into clearer focus.

She wore the standard school uniform, and unlike most students who find it a hassle and just stuff it in their pocket, her student ID hung from her chest.

‘Lee Ha-won?’

And the name written there was none other than…

“Class president?”

The name of the class president when I was a 1st year high school student.

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