KP4

(An American-ish version of Boys Over Flowers)

Chapter 1

Everyone has that decisive moment in life – the moment when life divides cleanly into "before" and "after." For me, it was the moment my foot came into contact with Joon Shinwha's head with a perfect THWOMP. I remember the shocked look on his face as he staggered backward, and the feeling of utter satisfaction as my feet returned to the floor. I thought that moment was finally the end, but luckily for me it was just the beginning.

Of course the real beginning was before that, when I moved into Shinwha Girls' Dormitory the fall of my sophomore year of college. Or maybe I should go back even further, when a heartbroken girl in Korea (I like to think she was heartbroken, anyway) decided to place her baby girl for adoption. My birth mother named me "Jandi," which means grass. Don't think I haven't puzzled over that a time or two. Who names their kid "Grass," and why? Did she like grass, or hate it? Did they ask her for a name and she just said the first thing that came to mind?

I came to the United States with my parents at the age of six months and became Jandi James. I grew up just outside Tulsa, Oklahoma, living a perfectly normal American life with my little brother, Sam, except for the fact that Sam and I were some of the only Asians in our school and neighborhood. My mom stayed home with us, serving as homeroom mom, taekwondo/swim team cheerleader, and a glorified bus driver in the form of our family minivan. My dad was an attorney, working at a big firm in downtown Tulsa. He was also an avid cheerleader of everything Jandi and Sam, never missing a teacher conference or a sports tournament. Yes, I wondered about my biological parents and what it might have been like to grow up in South Korea instead of the States. And I definitely struggled at times. Adoptions begin with a massive loss, and no matter how much I loved my parents or my life in America, the loss and the grief were still there.

When I graduated from high school, I wasn't quite ready to leave home and my parents definitely weren't ready to see me go. So I completed my freshman year at a community college where I knew a few people and I could still live at home. After a year, though, I was impatient for some independence, and I decided I wanted to blend in a little. I chose Highland University, known for its ties to Korea and a large Asian student population. My best friend, Lauren Armstrong, decided to go there as well, and the Shinwha Student Athlete swim scholarship sealed the deal.

Highland was a six-hour drive from home. Lauren and I could visit for a weekend, but not conveniently. I loved that Highland had a beautiful campus, set high on a hill with a gorgeous view of the surrounding countryside. Its beautiful old buildings were built in the 1800s; some of them were even on the National Historic Register. Of course, Highland also boasted a strong academic side as well. I was planning to major in social work, and I was looking forward to taking classes in my major instead of just a general course load.

Move-in day dawned bright and clear. I was nervous, of course, but also excited. We unloaded and schlepped and organized and decorated. Lauren's side of the room was a pink, ruffled girl heaven. I had simpler tastes, preferring clean lines and sparse decorations. We kissed and hugged our parents as they all stifled tears; I grabbed Sam in one last headlock and gave him a smack on the cheek. Then they were gone, and Lauren and I were truly on our own.

We were enjoying our new digs when someone knocked on our door. I opened the door, and three life-size Barbie dolls marched in.

The first one said, "Hi! I'm Molli, with an "i." This is Jillian and Bella. We're juniors. We're right across the hall if you need anything." Then she looked me up and down and said "Where are you from? Are you a friend of the KP4?"

I generally try to be polite and give people the benefit of the doubt, but having been asked roughly a million times where I'm from, it gets a little old. The underlying assumption seems to be that an Asian person can't possibly be American.

But I forced a smile and responded "Tulsa, Oklahoma. Who's the KP4?"

She cocked her head like I was a little bit slow and sounded out "Ok-la-ho-ma? No, like where are you from? Originally?"

I was rapidly losing patience, but with gritted teeth responded, "I grew up in Oklahoma."

About that time Jillian, who was wandering around the room, noticed a family picture I had hung over my desk and butted in with "Oh, you're adopted!"

Molli rolled her eyes dramatically and said, "Why didn't you say so? Where were you born?"

I folded my arms on my chest and started to give a sharp retort when Lauren interjected with "South Korea."

Molli shrieked and clapped her hands. "And you came to Highland not knowing about the KP4?!" She laughed like that was the funniest thing she'd ever heard, and they all left as she tossed a cheery "Later, girls!" over her shoulders.

I closed the door and looked at Lauren. Lauren rolled her eyes and said "That never gets old." Then she stuck a hand on her hip just like Molli and in her best Valley Girl accent said "Where are you from? No really?"

That's Lauren for you. You might think if you saw her soft blonde curls, paper white skin, and carefully tailored outfits that she is just a dumb blonde. You would be dead wrong. Lauren isn't book smart, necessarily, but she can read people and situations with precision, and she knows just how to diffuse tension. That's the other thing about Lauren – she's never stressed and I've never once seen her lose her temper. She just accepts things without worry or fear. I sometimes joke with her that if she was pushed out of an airplane without a parachute she would calmly enjoy the view and the wind blowing through her hair. Her response: "It would be a good view."

We were ready to get out of our room for a bit, so I suggested we go for a walk on campus. Lauren knew exactly what I meant.

"You want to walk to the pond, right?"

She knew I loved being around water. We set out across campus toward a landscaped pond set in the middle of several dormitory buildings. Since classes hadn't started yet, people were everywhere, playing Frisbee, sitting on the lawns, walking and talking.

As we walked toward the pond four Asian guys came walking down the sidewalk on the other side, headed in the opposite direction. Nearly everyone stopped to watch them as they went, and the crowds parted in front of them. Whereas most of us were dressed casually for move-in day, all four of these boys looked like they had walked out of an issue of GQ College Edition, if there were such a thing. And if I'm being honest, they were all gorgeous enough to be on the cover. I glanced at Lauren for her take.

She summed them up rapidly: "Arrogant and rich."

I muttered agreement, but still, we watched them walk all the way by before resuming our walk.

We found an empty bench near the pond and I felt the frustration drain away as I stared at the water. A swim would be even better, but no time for that today.

"So what are we going to do tonight?" I asked Lauren.

There was a big party organized by the student association, but we hadn't decided whether to go or not. We knew we should go to try and meet people, but then there was the awkwardness of actually meeting people.

"I vote K-drama. I'll even let you pick."

Lauren and I are Korean drama junkies, but we don't usually agree on what to watch.

"That's cheating!" Lauren said. "We have to go to the party. We're here at college; we have to do college things."

I reluctantly agreed, and she started planning our outfits while I tuned her out and watched the water. Across the pond I noticed the student association had set up a little ice cream cart with free ice cream. Once Lauren had our outfits sorted I pointed it out and we ambled over to get some. It was that bland soft serve ice cream, but somehow it tasted great that day, our first as college residents. We started talking about the schedule for the rest of the day – buying books, orientation, the party that night – and Lauren started walking backwards, the better to instruct me on what I would be wearing. I was teasingly telling her I would be wearing this same t-shirt and jeans to the party tonight, thank-you-very-much, when she tripped backwards over a step in the sidewalk. Her ice cream went flying, and in slow motion I watched it land on a pair of expensive-looking loafers. As if that weren't bad enough, the loafers belonged to one of the Asian guys we had seen earlier, and he was not happy.

Lauren jumped up, despite a skinned knee, and started apologizing profusely. She started digging around in her purse for some Kleenex to wipe his shoes. Instead of saying "that's ok," like any decent person, the jerk started going off about the cost of his shoes and how a Kleenex couldn't fix the precious one-of-a-kind leather with which they were made. Then he took Lauren's purse and threw it to the ground, knocking everything out. Lauren, of course, just took it all in stride and kneeled down to put everything back in her purse. I stepped between Lauren and the jerk, pulling myself up as tall as I could despite the fact he had four or five inches on me.

I yelled "Hey! She said she was sorry! What do you want her to do?"

He looked down his nose at me and asked, "Why are you getting involved?"

I looked at him as condescendingly as I could, given his height. "Uh, she's my friend. I guess despite your little posse here you don't know much about friendship and loyalty."

I gestured at his three friends, standing around behind him with varying looks of amusement on their faces.

He glanced back at them, glaring at their looks of amusement, and then turned to me again. "Loyalty? Let's see how loyal you are."

And then, so help me, he started speaking Korean. Now I enjoy K-dramas immensely, but I use the subtitles because I don't actually speak or understand Korean. I know a few words, but I had no idea what this jerk was saying to me, and no idea why he had suddenly switched to a different language. Did he not want Lauren to know what he was saying? Why? I looked at Lauren (as if she could interpret!), but she was busily shoving the last of her belongings into her purse and hadn't noticed. I think if my glance had not fallen on the other guys I would have simply explained that I don't understand Korean, but fate is fate. The first guy had a smirk and was rolling his eyes. The second was laughing out loud, to the point of bending over. The third stood there with his jaw dropped down to his chest, his hand over his mouth. I quickly deduced that whatever had been said was not complimentary, and without thinking shoved my ice cream into the jerk's face, smearing it around for good measure.

I grabbed Lauren's arm to escape. Mercifully she had her belongings stowed by that point, and we ran off as quickly as we could. I glanced back to see the jerk standing there furious, and the three other guys laughing uproariously.

We ran all the way back to our dorm room, with Lauren screeching intermittently "Jandi! Why did you do that? What happened?"

We collapsed into our room, completely out of breath.

Through gasps Lauren turned on me. "Seriously – what happened? I'm putting things in my purse and all of a sudden you're smearing ice cream in his face!"

I gave her the short version, including the facial expressions of the jerk's friends. Lauren was aghast, of course. "You have no idea what he actually said? You just

did that based on their expressions?"

Well, put like that it did seem rash. I thought back. Did I overreact? No, the more I thought about it the more sure I was that whatever he said it wasn't nice. I reassured Lauren, but we decided to lay low for awhile and skip the party that night.

That's how Molli found us that evening, curled up in front of my iPad watching "Playful Kiss," Lauren's favorite K-drama.

She burst in the door with a flourish and demanded "Please tell me you did NOT shove an ice cream cone into Joon Shinwha's face."

I pressed pause and glanced at Lauren before responding, "Ummm . . . I didn't really get the guy's name."

Molli was aghast. "No. Way. First day of college and you're already on KP4's bad side? You know they run this school, right?"

Lauren sat up and said, "What are you talking about? Who is KP4?"

Molli grabbed my iPad, opened Safari and typed out a search. She turned it around to show us pictures of the four guys, including the jerk that I had pasted with ice cream. "Korean Prince Four. Four of the richest 20-somethings in Korea, and they all attend our school."

She pointed to one of the guys, he of the gaping mouth during the incident. He had short brown hair, wide-set eyes, and a serious look.

"First, Bin Song. His family owns a huge construction company in Korea, as well as lots of real estate holdings. He has a third degree black belt in tae kwon do."

I looked at Lauren to silence her. I also have a third degree black belt in tae kwon do, but that wasn't something I wanted to share with Molli.

She moved on without noticing, pointing to the next picture, of the one who had been bending over laughing. He had black hair that framed his face with boyish features, the kind of face most girls go crazy for.

"Second, YooJin Jong. He became a famous ceramic artist at the age of 16. His pieces are in demand worldwide. Plus his family owns one of the biggest museums in Korea."

That was a little hard to stomach – some guy at our school was a famous artist? Please. We must have looked incredulous because Molli opened a new window in Safari and started pulling up pictures of his art displayed in famous museums.

Then she went back to her original screen and continued.

"Third, Jai Yoon."

She showed us a picture of a guy with long, shoulder-length hair dyed a reddish color, and he looked like the brooding, serious type.

"He's the grandson of a former president of Korea. His family owns an art center in Korea, a soccer team in Europe, and an American major league baseball team."

This was the guy who had been rolling his eyes. I felt like rolling mine – who were these guys and why were they all at my college? Just my luck!

Molli, however, was moving on to the big finish.

"Finally, Joon Shinwha," she announced as she pointed at the jerk, "as in Shinwha Electronics, Shinwha Department Stores, and Shinwha Resorts."

Lauren and I looked at each other.

Lauren asked "Shinwha, as in Shinwha Girls' Dormitory? And Shinwha Athletic Center? And Shinwha Center for the Arts? And almost every other building on this campus?"

I kept it to myself, but I was thinking, "Shinwha Student Athlete Scholarships?"

Molli smirked in triumph. "Now you've got it."

I looked at the jerk's picture on my iPad. There he was – freakishly tall, weird curly black hair, and that arrogant snarl. "So . . . that's Joon Shinwha?"

I was trying to stay calm in front of Molli, but inwardly I was cringing. Did I have to choose the richest jerk who owns the entire campus to insult? Why oh why didn't I ask him what he was saying?

Molli sneered. "You might as well withdraw now. He won't let this slide. It was nice knowing you!"

She flounced out of our room, slamming the door behind her.

I groaned and leaned into Lauren. "Less than a day. I've been at college less than a day and I have more enemies than friends."

I knew she wanted to make a comment about my terrible temper, but instead she patted my arm comfortingly and said, "He doesn't own the place just because his name is Shinwha. He's just a student like us. What can he do?"