LOVE:ZERO

As they approached the apartment, Jiyu let out a deep, unchildlike sigh.

She didn’t know what had prompted her to come to the tree house, but she had a feeling that something was going to be very troublesome.

When Hunter wanted something, he’d pester her until she gave in.

‘I think I’d rather meet Hunter in the penthouse.’

Last year, Hunter’s little sister, Daisy, was born, and Jiyu wasn’t as reluctant to go to Hunter’s house as she used to be.

Jiyu had always wanted a sister, and Daisy was adorable, with her wiggles and milk smell.

When we went on playdates, I would always make an excuse and sneak into Daisy’s room.

When it was time to go home from playing with the newborn, I would return to the playroom and pick out a book to borrow.

Hunter didn’t really care if I left or came back in anyway, except when he asked to be read to.

“Oh, is he asking me to read to him again…?”

Jiyu muttered to herself and placed her book bag on the aesthetic front porch bench.

Hunter could read on his own now, but he often held out books to her and ordered her to read them aloud, as if she were an audio book.

It was annoying, and when she complained to Ae-Jeong about it, she was met with a scowl.

“Honey, where’s the free stuff in the world? You’re reading all the books in his house for him, so just pay for them and read them to him. It’s not that hard.”

Even more annoying, when she finally relented and started reading, Hunter would hang upside down from the pole and talk to her or do something else while he listened.

When he stopped, he’d practice juggling with a tennis ball, dropping the ball at the back of his head and grimacing as if he were talking into thin air.

“Read on, until I tell you to stop reading.”

On our last playdate, I had to read three chapters of a fantasy novel based on Greek mythology until I cleared my throat.

Wondering  if he wants me to read the next chapter.

I couldn’t understand why he couldn’t read a book on his own if he was literate.

At one point, I wondered if it was because I was dumb, but the math tutoring session showed that I wasn’t.

Giving up on understanding, Jiyu tugged on Soon-ye’s cuff in frustration.

“Ms. Kwon, I’m going to the tree house.”

“Now?”

Soon-Ye looked down at her, surprised in her wrinkled eyes.

“Uh, yeah. Hunter asked me to come out earlier. I think he wants me to read a book for him.”

“Hunter? Yeah, yeah. Go ahead and go. I’ll make a snack in the meantime.”

Soon-Ye already knew that anything involving Hunter in this house was a green light.

“Okay. Bye!”

Jiyu whirled down the hall and pushed open the heavy iron gate to the courtyard.

Afternoon sunlight slanted over the graceful curved bronze benches surrounding the garden’s stone fountain, both of which had been here since the 1920s, when the apartment was built.

To one side of the courtyard stood a tree house, built to the height of an adult.

There were very few children in the apartment, as the tenants tended to be older.

Moreover, no outsiders were allowed in the courtyard, which was located in the back of the building.

As a result, it was Hunter and Jiyu’s private playground.

In the hollow space beneath the tree house’s tall columns, there was an oblong sandy area for playing.

The yellow shovel and half-broken blue plastic bucket that Hunter used to play with as a child were still half-buried in the sand.

A slide curved like an elephant’s nose ran from the side of the tree house to the floor, and a round tire swing suspended from a pole that extended from the roof swayed gently in the breeze.

Hunter was a fast walker, and Jiyu was deliberately slow, so he could get there first.

Sure enough, there was a repetitive thump, thump, on the wooden planks.

Jiyu stood in front of the ladder, took a deep breath, and was conflicted for a moment.

Part of her wondered what had summoned her to the tree house, and part of her didn’t want to know. But today, curiosity won out over caution.

Jiyu placed one foot on the ladder and it creaked.

The sound of bouncing balls stopped inside the tree house.

Slowly, she climbed the ladder, ducked her head slightly, and stepped into the tree house.

In second grade, she hadn’t had to duck her head when she walked through the entrance, but apparently she’d grown taller.

It was blindingly bright outside, but dark inside the tree house. I had to blink several times to adjust to the difference.

A play kitchen, a dining set, and a small couch. Hunter was sprawled out on the couch in a bad posture in the middle of a familiar scene.

He used to play on the roof of the tree house, but rarely ventured inside. It was too cramped and stuffy to be fun.

“Jiyu Parker. Why are you so late?”

Hunter asked in a gruff voice without greeting.

Jiyu wrinkled the bridge of her nose slightly.

Hunter now knew how to pronounce the name “Jiyu” properly, but he called her that as if it was a nuisance.

Every time he did, a voice would say, “Jiyu Parker. I hate you.” I remembered the voice telling me, “I’d rather call you Olivia.”

I told him several times to call me by my English name, Olivia, but he didn’t even pretend to listen.

Jiyu didn’t say hello either, but got straight to the point.

“Why did you call me that?”

With that one word, I conveyed the maximum amount of resentment and annoyance I could muster.

The words to stop pretending to be an egg in front of the other kids were on the tip of my tongue, but I managed to hold them back.

It wasn’t that I didn’t have the courage; I’d seen him so young, it wasn’t that hard to talk to him.

However, in the books she read, the kids who said things like that were almost always the “mean girls” who bullied the protagonists, and the kids who heard them were often deeply hurt.

Jiyu didn’t want to act like a mean girl.

‘I’m sure Hunter Hamilton wouldn’t care if I did.’

‘Self-centered’ was a word from a book she’d recently read, and as soon as she saw it, she immediately thought of Hunter.

The only thing that could bother Hunter Hamilton, who had everything going his way, was himself.

Jiyu pulled out a small chair from the reception set and sat down, as far away from Hunter as possible.

The couch, where Hunter sat slouched with one arm over the backrest, was usually her reserved seat, and she felt flattered that he’d taken it, even knowing that.

“I have a tournament on Saturday.”

Hunter blurted out.

“…”

Jiyu’s eyes narrowed with fatness.

Hunter had started traveling to local tournaments for the 12-and-under age group twice a month since last year.

Lauren had invited Ae-Jeong and Jiyu to go with her twice, so the idea of going to a tournament was nothing new.

“There’s a tournament!”

He repeated in frustration.

Finally, Jiyu opened her mouth slowly.

“…Come on.”

“Come.”

“Where?”

He pushed the word out with a series of venomous gestures.

“Tournament.”

His piercing blue eyes, which seemed to self-illuminate even in the dark, shot at her like a beam of laser light.

Jiyu’s mouth twitched, speechless, and her eyebrows furrowed.

Jiyu was like, “What’s the big deal?”

“Did you ask me to come all the way to the tree house to say that?”

Hunter picked up his first tennis racket at the age of four, guided by his father, Jared Hamilton.

Tennis is a traditional sport in the Hamilton family, and Jared himself was captain of the Varsity tennis team while attending Alton School.

After attending a tennis academy on Randall Island twice a week after school, Hunter was offered a spot in an “elite” group of players when he was eight years old.

He pouted when he got the offer.

When the Hamilton family realized Hunter had a knack for tennis, they moved quickly to support him.

The lowest of the three floors of the Hamilton residence is called the Basement.

It was occupied by a worker’s quarters called “Help,” a wine cellar, storage, and a large gym.

Last summer, major construction began to expand the gym to create a tennis court, which was completed in December of that year.

Hunter took private lessons on the courts and practiced on a state-of-the-art ball machine.

There’s even a weight room off to one side, so he doesn’t envy the pros.