“Hold out your left hand.”
Hunter was left-handed. He hit his forehands and served with his left hand.
Eyeing her suspiciously, he trudged over and dropped heavily into the chair opposite her. After a long hesitation, he held out his hand, clenched into a tight fist.
“Turn it palm-up and spread your fingers.”
Hunter gave a short sigh, rotated his fist, and slowly unfurled his fingers. Thick calluses covered the palm that gripped his racket, built up through countless hours of practice. Jiyu knew very well how seriously Hunter took tennis.
With her index finger, she traced the letter J across his palm.
“Wh-what are you doing? That tickles!”
When Hunter tried to yank his hand back and clench it again, she caught it once more.
“Listen carefully, Hunter Hamilton.”
He glared at her, his face deeply furrowed as he breathed harshly. His shoulders rose and fell unevenly.
“You are left-handed, so I am going to write my name on your left palm. This is a highly effective method from a New York Times bestseller, so open your hand again and endure the tickling.”
Hunter regarded her with doubtful, distrustful eyes before slowly spreading his fingers. Jiyu quickly traced the remaining letters across his palm.
“i, another i, and then u. There. All done.”
After a moment’s thought, she squeezed her eyes shut and bent her head over his palm. Her lips brushed his skin for barely a fraction of a second before she pulled away.
“Gasp!”
She heard Hunter suck in a sharp breath.
“Wh-what did you just—!”
Jiyu raised her head and completed her explanation with a confident expression.
“Now, whenever you grip your racket with this hand, it will have the same effect as if I were watching your tournament.”
Then she gently folded his fingers inward.
“Now clench it tightly. Do not let it go.”
‘Please let this work. Please believe me.’
Jiyu glanced up, trying to gauge his reaction.
‘What if he gets angry because he thinks I am treating him like an idiot?’
Hunter stared at her with his mouth slightly open, doing nothing but blink. She had never seen him look so utterly dumbfounded. Jiyu bit her lip to hold back her laughter.
Then Hunter clenched his fist tightly.
‘Eek. Is he angry?’
Jiyu hunched her shoulders and considered making her escape down the slide when a loud gulp broke the silence.
“If—if this does not work, I will not let you off easy, Ju Parker!”
His attempt at a threatening voice cracked halfway through.
Hunter sprang to his feet, knocking the small chair over with a loud crash.
Without bothering to set it upright, he stomped toward the entrance connected to the slide. Then, as though sliding down would take too long, he grabbed the metal bar above the opening with one hand and leaped to the ground beside it.
“What a temper.”
Jiyu muttered timidly under her breath.
Hunter’s footsteps rang heavily against the stone floor of the courtyard, growing fainter until the thick iron door slammed shut with a bang.
Jiyu shrugged, rose from her seat, and leisurely slid down the slide. She had successfully shaken off Hunter Hamilton, who had been pestering her to skip the birthday party. In any case, she had achieved her goal.
Sunday afternoon.
Aejeong flung open the door. Curled up in the round hanging chair with a book, Jiyu looked up in surprise.
Aejeong waved her over.
“Jiyu, hurry up and go to the penthouse. You are having a playdate with Hunter.”
“Now? Why all of a sudden…?”
“Ah, just hurry and come out. Your dad is busy with work, and Mom has a mani-pedi appointment, so I cannot take you. Go and play by yourself. Wait, should I cancel my appointment…?”
Aejeong looked down at her nails, then shook her head.
“Ugh, they are far too messy. I have to go. Jiyu, stop dawdling and get up.”
Since she had books to return anyway, Jiyu nodded readily. It was also about time to see what new books had arrived in Hunter’s playroom library. New books were brought in every two months.
“It would be perfect if Hunter were not home.”
Jiyu muttered as she left the apartment. With Lauren’s permission, she occasionally visited the playroom even when Hunter was away to return or borrow books. Lauren often said that Jiyu reading in the playroom had a “good influence” on Hunter.
Whenever she heard that, Jiyu felt strangely unsettled. Hunter Hamilton was not the sort of person to be influenced by anyone, least of all someone like “Ju Parker.”
When she entered the lobby, Jiyu raised her index finger toward Mike, who stood behind the concierge desk. It was their signal that she was going up to the penthouse.
Mike no longer stopped Jiyu or Aejeong from using the penthouse elevator. He gave a silent nod and called upstairs over the intercom.
The moment the elevator stopped on the family floor and its doors opened, the inner security door was flung wide.
Before the startled Jiyu could step back, Hunter thrust something toward her with a triumphant expression.
It was a gleaming silver trophy.
Mayor Dinkins Cup Tennis Elementary Division Champion.
After reading the inscription on its base, Jiyu muttered blankly,
“Oh no. He really won.”
Hunter’s attitude toward Jiyu changed once he confirmed that she truly was his “winning jinx.” He no longer treated her like a permanent piece of furniture in the playroom.
Before, even when they were in the same room, he would spare her a single indifferent glance before losing interest. Lately, however, his brilliant blue eyes followed her so intently—with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity—that it became burdensome, and Jiyu began subtly avoiding him.
Whenever they crossed paths at the sports center shared by Alton School, Jiyu would quickly lower her eyes and pretend not to notice him. Hunter, who had once ignored her greetings just as readily, would now punch the wall with a frustrated thud, as though irritated by her behavior.
Jiyu wished Hunter would go back to the way he had been before. The careless glances that slid over her as though she were no more significant than the beanbag chair in front of the library had been far more comfortable.
The greater problem was that every time he had a tournament, he summoned her to the treehouse. He would repeatedly shove his left hand in front of her face and pester her to hurry up and write her name on it.
But Jiyu drew a firm line. Unless the tournament was truly important, she refused to act as his winning jinx.
“Do not rely on a winning jinx. Focus on improving your skills, Hunter Hamilton.”
The instant the words left her mouth, goosebumps rose along Jiyu’s forearms.
Of all people, she had said that to Hunter Hamilton. Would she truly be all right? The Hunter she knew was not someone who tolerated things failing to go his way.
Sure enough, blue flames seemed to flare in his eyes. Jiyu’s frightened gaze trembled uncontrollably.
Why did I say that?
Regret flooded her at once. Hunching her shoulders, she braced herself for whatever retaliation—verbal or otherwise—would come back at her tenfold.
Hunter breathed heavily, grinding down his unvented anger between his molars. His jaw tightened.
But he said nothing to Jiyu.
No—he could not.
After all, he was the one who desperately needed the “winning jinx.” And though he hated to admit it, she was not wrong.
At that moment, the seesaw that had tilted toward Hunter ever since the day they first met slowly tipped in Jiyu’s direction.
Sensing it instinctively, Jiyu held her breath.
That immature sense of superiority was as sweet as cotton candy. She savored the thrilling sensation to the fullest.
Never realizing how swiftly—and how pointlessly—the balance would tip back again.
***
Twelve years old.
It was the age when hormones began to overpower the brain.
During the first semester of sixth grade, Aster School and Alton School staged a joint production of Peter Pan. Every sixth-grade student was required to participate, without exception, as an extension of the “plays and drama” unit in English literature class.
Hunter hated singing and dancing, so he volunteered to play one of the pirates, a role that required little more than brandishing a sword and rampaging across the stage. Jiyu was likewise assigned to the ensemble as one of the Neverland children, a role with no lines, and breathed a sigh of relief.
After the musical, Hunter and Rex, who had played Captain Hook, divided the popularity of Aster School’s sixth-grade girls almost equally between them. During lunch, heated debates frequently broke out around the cafeteria tables over which of the two was “cuter.”
It was a bizarre subject for discussion.
It was an open secret that Sienna Reed had a crush on Hunter. Listening to her attach enormous significance to every glance or single word he gave her, then agonize over it afterward, was utterly baffling.