"So Jungkook, I haven't seen you or your parents around at any of the school events or parent-teacher conferences," Mrs. Park chattered on, flicking a warm but inquisitive pair of eyes in the rearview mirror to meet his. "What do your parents do?"
"My mom's a nurse," Jungkook started, hesitating as he weighed how much information to give her, but in the end, he continued on. "And my dad left us last year so I'm not really sure what he's doing. But that's why we moved, so we're still pretty new to the area."
"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that, honey," Mrs. Park said, her eyes coloring with regret at having asked, but Jungkook just waved a dismissive hand in the air.
"That makes two missing dads," Jimin cheered from the passenger seat.
"Jimin-" his mom began, but Jimin was already twisting around to look at Jungkook over the shoulder of his seat.
"When my dad found out I was going to be born with the condition I have, he decided that fatherhood wasn't something he was interested in."
"You were just too special for him to handle," Mrs. Park rephrased firmly, reaching over with one hand to ruffle Jimin's hair without letting go of the wheel. "He wouldn't have known what to do with all the wonderful things that you are. He lost out big time on raising you."
Jungkook wondered if his father felt the same way, and he decided that no, he probably didn't. His father had been a financial employee of some kind – analyzing investment opportunities, trading stocks, that sort of thing – so he was pretty good at calculating his losses, and he didn't trade things away if the losses were too high.
"You too, Jungkook," Mrs. Park said, looking back at him again, but he didn't meet her eyes this time. "Your dad made a big mistake."
"Yeah," Jungkook agreed just to bring the conversation along. He could see his house getting closer from down the street, and the car in the driveway made him sit up straighter, his blood thrumming in his veins. "That's my house, the one on the right with the blue paint. My mom must have gotten off work early."
"Perfect," Jimin's mother said, her lips slipping into an easy smile as she pulled into the driveway, going slowly over the bump. Jimin's mom always hit it, and the hood of the car would bob up and down before settling into its spot.
"Thanks so much for the ride, Mrs. Park," Jungkook said, dipping his head in an informal bow, and she smiled over at him.
"Anytime, Jungkook. For real, just ask Jimin to let me know whenever you need a ride home."
"Thank you," Jungkook said again without any intention of on taking her up on the offer. He didn't like burdening other people. It made him feel guilty for some reason he couldn't explain. "See you at practice, Jimin," he said as he got out of the car, waving at the two before hurrying into the house.
"Mom?" he called out immediately, dropping his backpack by the door and poking his head in the kitchen.
"Kookie!" she called out, grinning over her shoulder as she stirred a pot on the stove. "You're home early, aren't you?" she asked, flicking her eyes to the neon blue digits on the oven that announced the time as 3:30. "I thought you had practice today? I was going to pick you up."
"I got sent home early," Jungkook said, slipping into a kitchen seat, "on account of a bloody nose."
"Kook-" she said sharply, twisting her head around to look at him more closely. "Baby, what happened?"
"I got hit by a basketball when I wasn't looking."
She sighed, her eyebrows knitting together as she tapped the spoon against the rim of the pot. "Are you okay? How long was it bleeding for? Did you-"
"I'm fine," Jungkook insisted before she could come over with a stethoscope and listen to his lungs, take his pulse, and check his eye dilation. "Really. I should have been looking. It's half my fault. Besides," he said, pushing onto a new subject. "I thought you were working until late tonight."
"One of the ladies I work in picked up an extra shift and since we were overstaffed, they let me take the night off." She turned back to the pot, stirring a little more before turning to the sink, where she began running water over something green and leafy. "Which means I get to spend dinner with my little bunny."
"Mom," Jungkook whined, a small smile that she wouldn't see sliding onto his lips as he propped his head up with his hand, his elbow resting on the table. "Aren't you tired? You should rest."
"Not too tired to have dinner with you," she repeated firmly. "Now get some plates out and set the table."
Jungkook hopped up from his seat and pulled two plates out of the cabinet to the right of the oven, grabbing silverware along with them. His mom alternated between the two pots on the stove and the salad, and a few minutes later, they were seated at the kitchen table, eating pasta with some salad on the side.
"So how's school going?" she asked, ladling some sauce onto Jungkook's pasta before doing the same to her own plate. Her eyes flicked up at Jungkook's expectantly as she replaced the ladle.
"It's fine," Jungkook said, taking a few bites.
"Make any new friends in your classes?" There was a hopeful upturn at the end of her question, a peak in her voice.
"Not really," Jungkook said with a sigh. They'd moved to this district after his dad had left because they couldn't afford to stay in their old house, and even though it was his second semester at his school, he was still "the new kid." In the previous semester, he hadn't minded it that much because he'd kept in contact with his old friends, but now that he wasn't allowed to use his phone to text, he'd felt much more alone. "But there are some interesting people on my team."
"Tell me about them," she said, her lips curling up into a smile despite her tired eyes as she rested her fork on her plate and propped up her head with her free hands.
"Well, Yoongi's the one who threw the ball at my head. He's got what you would call an attitude problem," Jungkook said, but he still smiled at the thought of his cantankerous hyung. "Namjoon's our coach, and he's also my supervisor. He seems pretty smart. I think he's busy applying for colleges or something. And then there's-"
Jungkook paused as the lightbulb above their heads flickered and went off.
"I'll get the sink," she said, rising from her chair as he said, "I'll get the bulb."
Jungkook hopped up on his chair, unscrewed the lightbulb, and looked over at his mom. She gave him a nod and turned the cold water faucet of the sink as he screwed the bulb back in. A moment later, the bulb lit up beneath his hand, light shining out through the windows between his fingers. He grinned, and they both sat down, picking up their forks and resuming their meal. Jungkook wasn't an electrician – neither of them were – but for some odd reason, running the cold water while screwing the bulb back in did the trick, and they usually had to repeat the process about once a week. Just part of the house's "character," his mom would say.
They continued chatting, previous conversation forgotten as his mom told him about a few of the patients she was currently working with. After a while, she leaned back in her chair, her eyelids fluttering heavily.
"Go rest," Jungkook said, eyes urging her with insistence. "I'll get the dishes."
She looked up at him, tilting her head so it fell into the open palm of her right hand. "You're so sweet, Jungkook."
"Shush," Jungkook said, as compliments made him uncomfortable, even from his mom.
"Have I ever told you that you're my favorite son?"
"Go to bed," Jungkook said again, turning away to hide his smile, and she got up with a sigh but gave him a peck on the cheek before leaving the kitchen, calling out an "I love you" in her wake.
"You too," Jungkook said to an audience of dishes. Once he was finished, he took his phone out of his pocket. He watched as another text notification popped up on the home screen – a message from one of his best friends from back home.
He stared at it for a second before he put the phone face-down on the counter without replying and turned off the light switch, the kitchen falling into darkness behind him.
-updated 06/04/20 (mm/dd/yy)-
