Hiding Pandora Read online

  He walks over and says something to the DJ, and I wait there. Almost immediately, the DJ builds the beat and a familiar sound is coming out.

  Naega jeil jal naga.

  I grin. It’s my favorite 2NE1 song.

  Winston walks back over to me, and watches me.

  The beginning of the dance starts out slow. Mostly a lot of hip movements. But by the second verse, there are a lot of movements that require me to get on the ground, making me wish I was wearing pants. I’m so focused on the dance, that I don’t notice the crowd forming around me.

  So much for not drawing attention to myself. Agent Alice would be so mad right now. Good thing she’s not here.

  The fact that I dance well enough to draw a crowd makes me a bit giddy. But then, I miss home, because if I was in Korea dancing to this song, my best friend would join in and she would know all the moves.

  I push back thoughts of her, and just dance. I know she would be proud of me if she saw me right now, and she wouldn’t want me sad that she’s not here.

  The song comes to an end and the DJ fades it into a One Direction song. I’ll be honest, the song sounds pretty lame after listening to 2NE1’s dubstep beat.

  Everybody claps, so I give a bow.

  “That was awesome,” Winston tells me as the crowd clears.

  “Thanks,” I say.

  “Where did you learn to dance like that?” he asks.

  “I took a dance class every day after school. I taught myself a lot, too,” I tell him. “I would practice dancing when I had a study break at school or before bed. I mean, it’s just for fun. Something to get my mind off studies for a bit.”

  “You studied a lot. What do you want to do?” he asks. “You should be a professional dancer.”

  I laugh. “I actually think that I’ll join the CIA, like my appa. I hope that I’m able to attend college in South Korea. Though, being a dancer would be fun. My dream job, though, is to be a Mukbang.”

  “What’s a Mukbang?”

  “I was kidding,” I say, laughing. “But a Mukbang is somebody who gets paid to eat food in front of the camera and talk. Basically, the person on camera eats a lot of food in as little time as they can. They take requests from the audience. ”

  “I can’t believe that’s a job.”

  “Me, either,” I say. “But it is. One girl got paid eighteen thousand US dollars in five minutes.”

  “That’s completely nuts,” he says.

  “A little. But, I admit, I watched a couple of Makbangs pretty regularly when I lived there,” I say. “So, you ready to dance?”

  “There is no way I can move my body like that,” he says. “I’m not that flexible.”

  “You’re just thinking too much. Your control your body, not the other way around,” I say. “Just feel the music.”

  I move my hips.

  He tries to mimic, but he ends up moving his whole body in an awkward way.

  I really try not to laugh, but I can’t help myself.

  “See, I’m hopeless,” he says.

  “You’re not hopeless. You just need practice.” Lots and lots of practice.

  “If you’re my teacher, I’m totally willing to learn,” he says. “Really, I’d use any excuse to spend time with you.”

  His words make my heart flutter. “I think I’d like that, too.”

  11 p.m.

  We have a problem.

  There is another party in the fields tonight. I’m worried about walking through the woods again, but Winston wants to go hang out, so I suck it up decide to go with him. Certainly, there won’t be a wild animal on campus, right?

  When I open my dorm room window, Winston is standing there waiting for me. I jump gracefully down beside him.

  “Are you a ninja?” he asks.

  “Are you asking that because I’m Asian?” I joke.

  He laughs. “From the way you talk, your dad is pretty badass. And he’s white.”

  I nod. “True. I don’t remember much about my mom, but what I do remember is that she was a girly girl. She loved shopping, having her hair and nails done, and she loved to keep the house clean. Every night she would have dinner cooked for my dad. She loved to bake and do laundry. From what I understand about American culture, women here don’t really do that.”

  “Yeah. Most women like to get jobs and help support their families,” he says.

  “I guess I can understand that,” I say. “I want to join the CIA like my appa.”

  “Does your dad know that?”

  I laugh. “No. My appa would freak out. He doesn’t want me to have a lifestyle like his. But I find it fascinating. I mean, mostly I wish I had been raised normally, but I haven’t been. I’ve been hiding my whole life. Why not help take down the terrorist group that has been trying to kill me for the past twelve years?”

  “I think it’s good that you want to do that,” he says. “You’re not afraid to fight.”

  “Definitely not,” I agree.

  We reach the edge of the woods, and suddenly I feel nervous. But I’m not worried about a wild animal attacking. I just have a really bad feeling. I reach into my purse and put a hand on my gun, ready to use it if I need to.

  I shake my head at myself.

  I’m just being paranoid. Nobody is in the woods. It’s just a bunch of teenagers sneaking around, hoping not to get caught. It’s normal. They do this all the time. I’m just worried because I don’t do things like this. If I get caught, my dad and Agent Kim will be pissed. I can’t get expelled from here.

  But we won’t get caught. And even if we do, what are they going to do? Expel everybody at the fields? Because it seems like all of the junior and senior class are out here, maybe even a few sophomores and freshmen. I have no reason to worry.

  Still, I keep a hand on my gun, just in case.

  Winston, noticing my hesitation, holds out his hand to me. I accept it, this time not giving the gesture another thought. It almost feels normal, and I’ve grown to like his touch. Even though I’ve only known him two days, I like him a lot.

  I hear some shuffling in the leaves beside me and jump.

  “What was that?” I whisper to Winston.

  “It was probably a squirrel,” he says, looking out into the darkness of the trees.

  “Oh, okay,” I say, breathing a sigh of relief.

  We have a lot of squirrels in Korea, and I know that they won’t attack anybody.

  Winston lets go of my hand and pulls his phone out of his pocket. He turns on the flashlight app and shines it on the leaves.

  “See, nothing,” he says. He turns the light off and sticks it back in his pocket. He grabs my hand, and we move forward again. Hesitantly, I move my hand away from my gun. We’re safe here. I’m just being silly.

  A few seconds later, I hear something else off in the distance. Voices. But we aren’t close enough to the field to hear anybody partying. I stop dead in my tracks, and pull the gun out of my purse.

  “Ttala hae,” I tell Winston.

  “What?” he asks.

  “Follow me,” I say, realizing that I was speaking Korean. “Quietly.”

  I walk off into the blackness of the woods. My eyes are already adjusted, but it’s so dark that it’s hard to see out here. I walk quietly through the leaves, careful not to make a crunching noise. Winston follows my lead, walking almost as quietly. He’s a little louder than me, but he hasn’t had the training I have.

  As I walk farther, the voices get louder, and I can hear somebody shouting.

  I hold up my gun, ready to fire if needed.

  As we get closer, I hear somebody speaking in Korean.

  My heart drops.

  They found me.

  I look at Winston, and see that he looks terrified. I hold a finger up to my lips, letting him know that he should remain silent. I put my hand back on the gun and head towards the noise. My phone is tucked safely inside of my bra, ready for me to call the CIA.

  “Where is she?” A guy asks, speaking
Korea. His Korean accent is different than mine. I can absolutely tell that this guy isn’t from South Korea.

  “I don’t know what you’re saying to me,” a male voice says back in English. He sounds absolutely terrified.

  I hear a loud smack, and the guy lets out a cry. As I get closer, I see that there is a group of Korean guys, probably about ten of them. They have an older white guy tied to a chair, and he looks scared. I wish that I could help him.

  “Let me talk to him,” another guy says, speaking Korean. He walks up to the guy in the chair.

  “Please, don’t kill me,” the guy in the chair says. “I have children, a wife, and grandchildren. I’ll tell you anything you want... give you anything. I have money. Just please, please, don’t kill me.”

  “Where is girl?” the guy asks, his Korean accent strong.

  “What girl?”

  The guy smacks his face and I flinch.

  The Korean guy holds up a photo. I don’t have to be close to see that it’s a photo of me.

  “I’ve never seen this girl before in my life,” the guy says, his voice shaking in fear.

  The Korean guy looks at him. “You tell me, you live.”

  “I swear, I don’t know.”

  The Korean guy looks at the other guys. “He’s telling the truth. He doesn’t know.”

  “Well, she’s here. We know she is,” another guy says back.

  “This school is small. We will find her,” he replies.

  “What do we do with this guy?” one of the guys asks.

  “Kill him,” the guy answers.

  A few seconds later, one of the guys pulls out a knife and slits the guys throat. They didn’t even give the guy a chance to fight for his life. I hear him choking on his blood for a few seconds, and then nothing. Silence.

  The guys grab the dead body start walking through the trees. Right towards us. I grab Winston, and pull him with me behind a bush. I watch as the guys walk right past us, none of them looking our way. They were so close.

  As soon as they are away from us, I grab Winston again and start pulling him through the woods, the opposite way that the other guys went... towards the school. I know that I can’t stay there, and I know that I need to get in my car and I need to get out of here.

  Winston doesn’t say a word as we run through the woods and towards the parking lot. I have my keys ready when we get to my car. I unlock it, and Winston gets in the passenger side. I push in the brake and push the start engine button. My phone connects to Bluetooth, so I hit my dad’s emergency line and put my car in reverse. Just as I am backing up, my dad answers.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks.

  I put my car in drive and floor it.

  “They’re here. I’m in my car and I need you to open the gates of the school,” I say, not letting off the gas pedal.”

  My dad curses and I hear him typing on his computer.

  “Are you okay?” he asks me, still typing.

  “I’m fine,” I reply. “They killed somebody. An older man. I don’t know who he was. I was hiding in the trees, watching them. They didn’t know I was there. But, Appa, it was awful. He didn’t have a chance.”

  I choke back my tears. Right now is not the time to lose it.

  The gates of the school come into view. They’re still closed.

  “Dad, open the gates. I’m almost there,” I say.

  A guard off to the side steps out and starts waving his hands at me, trying to get me to stop. There is no way I am stopping, even if I have to crash through the gates.

  “Give me a second,” Dad says, typing faster.

  “I don’t have a second!” I yell at him.

  “Done,” he says.

  The gates open up just in time for me to drive out of them.

  Phew, that was close.

  “Dad, where should I go?” I ask him.

  “Hold on,” he says, typing something else.

  The screen on my car pops up showing a map, giving me directions.

  “There should be directions on your navigation system,” Dad says. “Just follow the directions. When you get there, a group of CIA agents will be waiting for you. Just go with them. They’ll keep you safe. And I will be there as soon as possible. I promise. I’m booking a flight for you right now.”

  “Appa, I’m kind of not alone,” I tell him.

  “What do you mean you’re not alone?” he asks, then types something else. “I don’t see anybody following you.”

  Of course—my dad hacked my back up camera on my car.

  “I mean, I wasn’t alone tonight. In the woods,” I say.

  “What were you doing out of your dorm after curfew?” Dad asks.

  “Promise you won’t get mad?”

  “Depends,” he answers.

  I know that is as good as I will get coming from him.

  “Well, I was kind of going to this party,” I answer. “It wasn’t that big of a deal. Just everybody wanted to hang out after the dance.”

  “How did you even get out of your room?” Dad asks.

  “The window.”

  My dad curses again. “Layla Autumn Scott, I swear you are in so much trouble.”

  My mouth falls open at the sound of him using my full real name.

  Wait. I have a middle name? How did I not know this?

  “Appa, if I wasn’t out there, then this probably would’ve ended much worse,” I say. “Please, don’t be angry with me.”

  He sighs. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

  “Me, too,” I agree.

  “Is it that Winston boy you were telling me about?” Dad asks. “The democrat’s son?”

  I look over at Winston and see him smiling at my dad’s comment. But beyond the smile, I can see that he is scared to death. Not that I can blame him. I’m scared, too. It’s just that I’ve been trained on how to handle myself in this kind of situation. As soon as I am safe, I will freak out. Until then, I have got to keep it together.

  I shift my eyes back to the road.

  “Yes, Dad. It’s Winston.”

  “I see that you have me on your car speaker, so I’m assuming he can hear me,” Dad says. “Winston, you’d better keep my daughter safe.”

  “I will, sir,” Winston promises.

  “Layla, I promise I will get you out of this,” Dad says.

  “I know you will, Appa.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you too,” I tell him.

  The line goes dead, and the radio automatically starts playing a Korean pop song. I turn the volume down.

  “Should I call my Dad?” Winston asks me.

  “No,” I reply. “Don’t call anybody. My line is a secure line. Right now, we don’t need to drag anybody else into this. We will meet with the CIA and they will tell us what to do. My dad will know what to do.”

  “Pandora... Layla... this is crazy,” Winston says.

  “I know it is. And I’m sorry that I dragged you into this,” I say. “But I promise you’ll be safe.”

  Just as the words leave my mouth, the back window of my car shatters. I look in the mirror to see a car coming up behind me really fast.

  “Bastards shot my window out,” I say.

  I floor the car, and get my dad back on the line.

  “Appa, we have a problem,” I say as soon as the line connects.

  My dad types something in on his computer and curses.

  I hear him dial something on his other phone, and hear him talking in the background.

  I hear another shot, this one going through the back of my seat, extremely close to hitting my head.

  “Appa, hurry!” I yell. “Bastard almost hit me.”

  A new set of directions is uploaded to my GPS, and it tells me to take the next exit. I do as it says.

  “Where are you taking me?” I ask, hearing another gunshot. I’m not sure where this one went, but I’m fine, and so is Winston.

  “Get down,” I tell Winston. “On the floorboard.”

  H
e nods and does what I say.

  “I’m taking you to a CIA location in Boston. I wanted to get your farther from the city, but it’s too late. You’re almost there, honey,” he says.

  My GPS says .80 kilometers to my destination, and I’m wondering where all the CIA agents are.

  Suddenly, I hear a loud explosion. I look in my rearview mirror and see the van that was following me is now on fire.

  My heart accelerates, but finally I am safe.

  “They’re dead,” I tell Dad.

  “Thank God,” he says. “Now, I’m coming to get you. By now, I’m sure there are more on their way. I’ve got to get you somewhere safe.”

  Safe?

  Safe sounds good, but I’m not sure I will ever be safe again. I was supposed to be safe here, and yet, somehow they found me. No matter where I go, they will always be able to find me.

  I look down at Winston. He’s looking slightly relieved, but he won’t once he realizes what kind of danger I put him in.

  Winston Graham will hate me once he knows.

  Monday, September 8

  Get this over with.

  The CIA locked Winston and me in a safe place.

  I snort.

  It’s more like a jail cell.

  We tried to get some sleep, but with everything that happened last night, neither one of us got much sleep.

  Winston has been quiet since everything went down. Not that I can blame him. But I’m worried. What if he doesn’t want to be my friend anymore? What if he blames me for what happened? I mean, all this is happening because of me.

  “So… the terrorists are Korean?” Winston say, breaking the silence that morning.

  I nod. “North Korean.”

  “And they’re after you, why, exactly?”

  “I’m not sure. I think my dad did something to piss them off.”

  “That’s great,” he says, sarcastically. “North Korea has one of the biggest armies.”

  “Actually, it’s not the whole country that’s after me. Just a group of terrorist from there,” I clarify. “Basically, North Korea hates my dad, but they obviously deny any involvement. If they sent their army to come after us, I’m pretty sure that would start a war. The United States doesn’t exactly want North Korean soldiers roaming the streets of America.”