Chapter Text
July 2020
The summer breeze invites itself inside Jeongyeon’s apartment, a promising heat that’s a bit cooler than a pre-heated oven. With her grey panel curtains drawn to the side, an enormous custom window comes to sight. In an area that’s eight storeys above Seoul, its remarkable nightscape sure captivates her attention every time with no fail.
Lots of people tell her that she’s doing quite well for someone her age—she doesn’t exactly know what that implies but she almost always agrees anyway.
Before living the life she currently has, doubts did cloud her mind; a life of luxury as what they always say is something many people envy—they all often think money and fame is the answer to everything, but that isn’t always the case, not to her at least. It wasn’t just always fun and parties, squandering her money as if it were the end of the world—she had her fair share of struggles too.
But now it seems like it’s paying off.
She had moved here three years ago. A spontaneous decision she had made when she had managed to save quite a few. Her parents opposed the idea but there really was nothing they could do—her mind was made up; talking her out of it back then would be like talking to a brick wall.
Months went by and she eventually had convinced her parents—through several talks, serious ones, of course.
Sure, buying an apartment at such a young age is a big step, but not to Yoo Jeongyeon. She isn’t afraid to take risks, hasn’t been. And so far, she has no regrets.
Her eyes trail on every flashing light there is before her.
It’s calming.
There’s something about the liveliness of the city that strikes her—she can’t put a finger on it, but it stirs something deep down.
Could it be the sheer vigorous atmosphere? Or the sweet whiff of air that has probably travelled to places she has never been? She has yet to figure those out—she still has lots to figure out. Though all things considered, it does send excitement to her bones. Excitement—she wishes to feel that more often.
It has been a long ride for her.
All the things she didn’t know that mattered, now somehow does. Even the tiniest things, things that may seem shallow, things that people tend to overlook now somehow makes her feel alive, in a way that one doesn’t just breathe alone, but live life through one’s own accord.
Control. She finally feels in control, of her own life, in every little thing she does, and she is in a state of satisfaction.
A faint tune brings her back from her musings.
A notification from her phone, and a toothy grin flashes across her face with the sender’s name appearing right before the bright screen.
Dahyun
[12:11 AM] Hey
[12:11 AM] We’re going out tomorrow night. U game?
[12:12 AM] There’s drinks.
[12:12 AM] And girlsss ;)
Kim Dahyun. Oh God, where does Jeongyeon even start?
To put it simply, she’s a dear friend of hers. Funny, charming, short and outgoing—that’s how Jeongyeon would describe Dahyun.
The woman is two years younger than her and had met her all the way back in uni, barely even seeing each other in the campus due to their contrasting timetables.
But that didn’t stop them from hanging out.
As a matter of fact, it was Dahyun who had taken the initiative to approach her, always asking Jeongyeon to go out with her, teaching her how to unwind in circumstances that she thought was helplessly never-ending.
Soon enough, they became almost inseparable.
[12:13 AM] not sure yet. I’ll let you know asap
[12:14 AM] currently dealing with something.
[12:14 AM] i’ll see if im able to sort it out tomorrow
[12:15 AM] also, go to sleep.
Dahyun
[12:15 AM] You’re awake!!!
[12:15 AM] HA. LAME. BOOOOOO.
[12:17 AM] Also, who sleeps these days?
[12:18 AM] ur mum.
Dahyun
[12:18 AM] *surprised pikachu meme*
[12:18 AM] Did you really just drag my mother into this?
[12:18 AM] uh-huh
Dahyun
[12:19 AM] Unnecessary!!
[12:20 AM] GOOD NIGHT
[12:20 AM] (I hope the bogeyman visits u)
[12:22 AM] good night.
[12:23 AM] (i hope ur ex visits u)
Dahyun
[12:25 AM] ENOUGH.
[12:26 AM] Text me that again and ill block you
The last message gives her a good laugh she didn’t know she needed—it’s what Jeongyeon used to say to them whenever she felt her patience depleting—now she’s getting a taste of her own medicine.
She would love to text back, but knowing Dahyun, it's best not to provoke her. She can be, how do you call it—a bit intense.
She crosses the living room in a few strides.
The space isn’t as grand as you think; her living room, her room, her kitchen, her dining room, her bathroom, they’re all just right for her. She sees no point in buying a bigger apartment when she lives alone anyway.
A tiny dog greets her from the couch, running as if it were seeing its owner after a long working day. She kneels on the marbled floor and stretches her arms out wide, witnessing its tail swishing from side to side.
The dog isn’t hers. And no, she didn’t steal the poor little thing. She simply took it in.
The story goes all the way back to the parking lot.
The sun was close to setting and Jeongyeon had just came back from a special interview under the care of a renowned women’s magazine.
Whilst tidying the boot of her car, gathering her kits, clothes and whatnots, a cream-furred Pomeranian gallivanting around the area stole her attention. The most obvious response to the situation as mentioned, is to find the owner.
And so, she did.
She walked for minutes, round and round, corner after corner, but there weren’t any possible owners in sight. She waited for a while, of course—more or less an hour, leaning against her car’s taillights as she kept the dog in check.
Much to her dismay, no one showed up.
However, as someone whose schedule is packed—time was of the essence—she definitely had been intending to pamper herself with a bit of free time she was provided; hence, she took the little one in her place for the night.
She does plan to return the dog to its owner when daylight comes, which is why she had told Dahyun earlier that she has matters to attend to.
The Pomeranian hops into her arms and begins licking the sides of her face.
She calls the little one ‘Tiny’.
Why, you ask? Because she can.
Come to think of it, she wonders why Tiny has been so nice to her. Like it’s born with an amiable personality—or maybe it’s just trained well. Tiny never snarled or barked at her. It’s surprising yet heart-warming, nonetheless.
She wishes she could keep it. A ridiculous wish, she knows; kind of selfish as well for saying such thing without considering its owner who is probably worried sick, bawling right in this very moment.
“Don’t worry, Tiny. We’ll find your mommy… or daddy tomorrow.” Jeongyeon pats its small head and coos it, landing a lingering peck on its fluffy fur.
Having the living room lights switched off, she carries Tiny in her arms and follows the glowing light from her bedroom.
It’s always been hard for her to sleep in complete utter darkness; she prefers having her bedside lamp switched on. It helps keep the ghosts away, or so she believes.
“Oh, that’s nice,” she says, groaning as her body hits the mattress. It sinks in the softest way possible. Tiny moves to the right side of the bed and automatically lies on the pillow. It’s a sight Jeongyeon wishes she could see every night.
She buries her head in one of her pillows and inhales the pungent smell of the new memory foam. A small smile etches on her face as she feels it caressing her skin.
This year has been nothing but good to her and she can’t wait to witness what more there is in store for her.
But really though, what more can she ask for?
A significant other? She chuckles at the thought.
The corners of the room glimmer as rays of light enter through her window, exposing the decorative posters and doodles messily pinned on the wall. Her sheer curtains dance as the wind begins to blow, flipping the magazine’s pages that features her face, placed on her desk next to the window.
She gives it one last shift, blanket tangled amongst the linen, and lets her eyes fall flat till she sees nothing but black.
She hopes for something good to happen when the sun rises.
“Good night, Tiny,” she mumbles.
--
Morning has come sooner than she had anticipated. A loud groan echoes in the bedroom as she stretches her back and limbs, feeling the utter satisfaction of the crisp cracking along her bones, similar to a sound of one's knuckle being cracked—and as soon as she makes her way to the living room, Tiny is already wagging its tail uncontrollably.
Someone seems happy.
“Good morning to you too,” Jeongyeon says, combing her messy hair as she heads to the bathroom. Tiny follows her with light steps.
“You pervert.” She playfully shoots a glare, waiting for Tiny to enter before closing the door. Tiny just sits there attentively, watching Jeongyeon do her usual morning routine. Brushing her teeth, washing her face and this and that.
What a good boy… or girl. She didn’t really check.
“You must be hungry,” she says. “Should we go for a morning walk and grab a treat? I’m hungry too.” Tiny just sticks its tongue out and she takes it as a big whopping ‘yes’.
She advances to her closet with Tiny still trailing behind, and snatches an oversized hoodie, a black one that has its brand embroidered on its chest—she fails to remember whether it’s a sponsored clothing or not, but it should be fine.
Wearing a casual yet comfortable clothing shouldn’t be a crime for someone like her.
Well, she is a model—maybe a few people would be able to recognise her on the streets?
She shakes her head.
Nah, who cares. She shrugs and puts it on.
Your manager does. She pauses midway.
“Fuck.” She starts taking it off—again pausing midway, her hair tussled with the fabrics of the clothing.
Or, she could just throw in a cap and a pair of sunglasses to match her outfit? Surely no one would be able to recognise her then.
Yes, it’s pure genius.
Giving herself a determined look in the mirror, she projects a satisfied look whilst tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Tiny, let’s go,” she says. She clips a leash on its collar that surrounds its neck, just an old one she had found in one of her drawers.
She used to have a dog too named Bbosong. Sadly, not too long ago, Bbosong passed away.
She had loved Bbosong so much. She recalls the sadness she had felt and how it came in waves with various stages; and trust her when she says she went through all six: denial, anger, guilt, depression, and eventually acceptance and resolution.
Her sister, Seungyeon played a part in the process as well—a huge part—which Jeongyeon had witnessed and felt. Not only did she provide her warmth as a sister but as a friend as well. Her sister gave her all the comfort she needed.
Despite her apartment still feeling a tad empty, Jeongyeon is doing her best to keep moving forward.
A figure of a woman pans into view as the front door eases open.
Tiny runs across the hallway before Jeongyeon could even close the door behind her, almost losing her footing with the leash still in her hand.
“Kookeu!” a voice exclaims. Kookeu? The name rings a bell.
Jeongyeon turns around, her brows knitted, and sees an averagely tall woman in her 20s, cradling Tiny on the floor as if it’s a newborn baby.
The woman sports a light brown hair, seemingly silky and slightly wavy, flaunting an attractive smile that reaches her eyes. A black sweater hugs the woman’s body, paired with a plaid cream pants.
Jeongyeon swears she’s seen her before. She seems familiar, almost too uncanny.
That hair. Jeongyeon swears she recognises that hair. Though it’s four inches shorter, it’s not entirely novel to her, especially when the woman still parts her hair the same way.
“Kookeu! Where have you been?” the woman asks, her tone filled with anxiety.
Words seem to die in Jeongyeon’s throat as she instantly grasps the actuality.
There’s no other excuse to make when that voice—a voice so distinct, so fruity, but now slightly mature, suddenly brings her all the way back to high school, remembering how she used to hear that voice each waking day.
“Nayeon?” Jeongyeon fails to hide her surprise, nails digging into the leather material that encloses the leash.
The woman looks up and meets her eyes.
Those eyes. They still look the same, albeit less fragile and less curious. Like they all have their life figured out—bold and open yet still sparkles in the same manner.
Nayeon squints. “Yes? Who—”
Im Nayeon. There’s a lot to say about Nayeon. The last time Jeongyeon saw her, they weren’t really in their best conditions. She blames a lot of things for it. Mostly herself though.
“Hi.” A lopsided smile appears by chance. “Do you live here?” she says, her index finger pointing to the wooden door opposite to hers.
And a shriek resonates in Jeongyeon ears—far from what the imagined response she had in mind.
“Do I know…” Nayeon trails, her voice hints of doubt as she slowly rises.
“Oh, it’s Jeongyeon. Yoo Jeongyeon,” she says, taking her pair of sunglasses off and her hoodie that’s placed atop her head. “I’m not sure if you still remember me, but we were good friends… back in high school.”
There’s a flicker of remembrance in Nayeon's eyes.
The woman avoids her gaze, eyes wavering in places, anywhere and everywhere but Jeongyeon. Soundless, like those pictures she has of the woman still living in her phone.
Has Jeongyeon perhaps mistaken?
“Are you okay?” Jeongyeon asks, her hand slightly hesitant to touch the woman by the shoulder. She instantly pulls a face, hearing the words that verily slipped out of her mouth—Nayeon used to say that it’s a dumb question, but Jeongyeon rather opposes.
“H-hi,” Nayeon says, fingers fumbling between her hands. “It’s been a long time.”
Yeah, it has. Jeongyeon lets out a chuckle—seemingly amused with the response she isn’t accustomed to.
“It’s nice to see you again.” Jeongyeon attempts to go in for a hug—both clearly clueless as to which direction to scoot and what hand goes where, so they ultimately settle for an awkward pat on the shoulder, ebbing away wordlessly, half-embarrassed and half-confused.
But Nayeon smiles though, a bashful one—a smile that Jeongyeon feels she's seeing for the first time—like a premiere of a film that has long been awaited.
It’s refreshing.
Jeongyeon clears her throat. “You still look the same.”
The woman is right—it has been so long, years even.
So much time has passed that Jeongyeon had even doubted herself if she’s actually seeing who she thought she was seeing. That maybe it was a mirage, kindled by longing and bitterness that still resides at the tip of her tongue.
Obviously, lots of things have changed, though one of the few things that remained the same is Nayeon’s smile. Pure and unmatched. It has always been one of Jeongyeon’s favourite things about her.
“Thanks… I’ll take that as a compliment,” Nayeon says, often changing her stance, unable to settle what leg to rest her weight on.
“It is a compliment,” Jeongyeon says almost immediately, startling not only her but the woman in front of her as well.
“Oh.” Nayeon rubs the back of her neck, suppressing a wide grin.
Jeongyeon has always been very confident in herself and the way she interacts with people—it’s no question that it is very much required in the industry she is working in; one must have an exceptional interpersonal skills to survive, realistically speaking.
But now that she's facing a familiar face, why is it that there's now this feeling of uncertainty in the words and vocabularies she intends to use?
Drawn from the corners of her mind, doubting every sentence she gets to form—why does it feel so out of the ordinary?
She feels nervous. Unable to speak, unable to bring the words out into the air for Nayeon to hear.
It’s appalling.
Tiny barks for the first time, interrupting, and Jeongyeon jumps in place.
“I should… I should go,” Nayeon squeaks, now facing the dog.
“Oh. Yeah, of course.” Jeongyeon plays with the leash in her hand. “Is Tiny your dog?” She scratches her head. If so, is it the same dog Nayeon had when they were still in high school?
“Tiny?” Nayeon repeats, seemingly addled.
“Yeah…”
“Who’s Tiny?” Nayeon doesn’t take her eyes off Tiny.
“Tiny—the dog you’re petting right now. Is this the same dog you adopted years ago? Kookeu?”
“Yeah,” Nayeon says, pursing her lips. “I was looking everywhere for him last night.”
Ah, no wonder why Jeongyeon didn’t get bitten or barked at.
Nayeon had Kookeu when she was in her senior year, and Jeongyeon remembers him being so little that he even managed to fit inside a shoe.
“Oh, shit—sorry,” Jeongyeon starts. “I found him near my car yesterday and was looking for the owner around the parking lot, but I didn’t see anyone, so I just took him in. I was planning to return him today though—and then you showed up.” Jeongyeon offers a kind smile.
“Oh. Well.” Nayeon coos over Kookeu in her arms. “Thank you for taking care of him.”
Jeongyeon ruffles the fur in Kookeu’s cute little head. “Of course. I mean—I didn’t really recognise him, but it seems like he did. Looks like I’m still his favourite,” she says with a hint of tease layered in her voice.
Nayeon doesn’t say anything. The woman shoots her a glare instead, and soon follows a faint chuckle, staring at Kookeu with her eyes that reflect fondness and pride.
The sound of a phone chiming puts Jeongyeon’s hand back in place.
She fishes for her phone in her front pocket and stares at the screen.
Not now.
“Anyway—I really should… go,” Nayeon says, withdrawing the leash that’s entangled in Jeongyeon’s hand.
“Hello?” Jeongyeon says, picking up the call. It’s her manager—blabbering about the changes in her schedule and whatnots, and unknowingly tunes out as her gaze follows Nayeon’s figure, walking away. “Unnie, I’ll call you back—I just… Nayeon!” she calls out.
The elevator doors slide open and Nayeon proceeds to enter, head whipping back as Jeongyeon’s voice echoes throughout the space. The woman raises her hand and waves timidly.
With the doors closing, the last thing Jeongyeon sees is Nayeon’s faltering gaze, leaving her in the middle of the hallway, unmoving and stupefied.
“My leash…” she mutters.
Unbelievable. Jeongyeon sighs, albeit loudly, a little disheartened as she looks at her phone. The call is still ongoing with the time almost running to two minutes now.
It’s the first time they’ve seen each other in years and the first thing she had truly noticed were the changes Nayeon went through. Despite having the exact same features, the Nayeon she knew wasn’t as timid as the Nayeon she just talked to—in fact, the Nayeon she knew wasn’t timid at all.
She recalls their first ever meeting—their first encounter at school, how Nayeon acted in front of her and how their introductions changed drastically over the years.
All they did was bicker. A trademark of them—a classic—and she supposes it never gets old.
Being around Nayeon had always been a daily struggle—Jeongyeon would often wonder what awaited her every day at school.
There were a lot of ups and downs, the ups outweighing the downs. The downs being the nonsense battles between them, the endless misunderstandings and the constant bickering—though, the last one might as well be an integral part of the ups, because they have been doing it for as long as Jeongyeon can remember—all day, every day, 24/7, all year-round.
The best part is, they almost seem to never run out of things to say—a nonstop back and forth duel.
But after years of not seeing each other—feeling as if those years were already a thousand lifetimes—Jeongyeon believes they both have become speechless, words running dry as the memories come running back to them.
Jeongyeon knows they both had so many things to say, to ask, things that were more than just your typical ‘his and hellos’ or your ‘long time no sees’—so many pent up emotions balled into one that they ended up saying nothing at all.
“Jeongyeon? Are you even listening?” her manager calls out through the phone.
“Y-yes. Yes, sorry,” she says. “Yes, I am.” She isn't.
Jeongyeon shakes her head and wears her sunglasses, hiding her sunken eyes beneath its tint as she too, advances to the elevator.
~
March 2012
It’s Jeongyeon’s first day at her new school. The situation is not entirely new to her. They always move places. And it just so happens that this year, her dad decided to move here in Seoul. She hopes this is the last time though.
She doesn’t hate the idea. It has its perks.
Most of the time, the good things outrank the bad. One of the good things is meeting new people. It’s an absolute thrill for her. So far though, she hasn’t really met anyone that strikes her or catches her vibe, a potential friend she might add.
The school? Yeah sure, the school is nice. Much nicer than the previous one she went to. Though she can’t really say the same for the people. They’re a bit intimidating.
She could be wrong though. Perhaps she has judged them too quickly.
She shrugs anyway.
Her uniform is a bit tight on her, caressing its fabric as she tries to eliminate the visible creases on her blazer. Right now, she’s in the toilet, minding her own business.
The rest of the cubicles were empty when she came in, so might as well hum her way through it.
She’s taken a liking in this girl group called Girls’ Generation. They’re popular at the moment; a hot topic in Korea and Japan, if you will. Though she believes they’re going to make it even bigger in the future.
It sounds cheesy (or crazy) but their music saved her. It’s a bit hard to explain why and how. She could write a few guesses, but there really isn’t a clear answer. Maybe it’s the absolute joy their music brings or their personality as a group or as individuals. Of course, she doesn’t know them personally—they’re idols after all. But she could always tell what pure hearts look like. And they have the purest hearts.
The main door creaks open and it instantly puts her on silent. The tap has been turned on and she hears the water cascading along the edges of the sink. Somehow, underneath the noise, a muffled sound of someone crying is projected.
Who could it be?
She wouldn’t want to make it awkward by bursting out the stall unannounced. Whoever it is, they probably need space right now—a time to be alone—which could probably explain why they came inside the bathroom, off and away from the crowd’s sight.
But Jeongyeon can’t possibly stay inside this cubicle forever. She still has classes.
Should she just act like she doesn’t notice? It could work.
The sound of the toilet flushing must have startled them that the sobs roughly cease.
Play it cool, play it cool. Jeongyeon exits the cubicle and clears her throat, not daring to raise her head whatsoever. Gingerly, she moves towards one of the sinks, keeping her gaze far and away as possible.
Should she at least say something?
Clearing her throat once more, she faces the mirror and pretends to fix her hair, eyes unknowingly stealing a few glances at the girl beside her.
Pretty. Light brown hair, medium length, and parted neatly a few centimetres away from the middle.
“What do you want?” the girl snaps.
Jeongyeon jerks. “M-me?” She scans the room before pointing to herself.
“No, me—” mocks the girl. “—yeah, of course you. What are you looking at?”
Jeongyeon meets the girl’s eyes for the first time. They seem sad for some reason. Glassy and fragile. “I-I’m not… I just… I mean, are you okay?”
The girl scoffs. “What’s it to you?” And reapplies her lipstick and mascara from her purse.
“Nothing—I’m just worried…”
“How about you mind your own business?”
“Well, I was trying to but—”
“But, but—no one cares.” The girl smacks her lips together. She faces Jeongyeon, her stance a bit aloof and conceited. “Listen, I’m pretty sure you’re new here. Everyone’s been talking about you, but I don’t really give a crap about—”
“Woah... Slow down. I was just concerned. You need to chill out.” Everyone’s been talking about her? Good things, she hopes.
The girl just smirks. “Stay in your lane, new kid.”
Jeongyeon lightly stumbles on the side as the girl charges past her shoulder.
As the door closes, Jeongyeon can only scold herself for not thinking of a better comeback. ‘You need to chill out’? Really? Surely, you could’ve done better than that.
Whoever that was, Jeongyeon can already tell how much of a pain in the ass she is. Probably one of those entitled mean girls in the campus—every school has them, so it really isn't very surprising.
With a quick brush on her shoulder, she grips on her backpack’s shoulder strap tightly and heaves a sigh.
What a great way to start her first day.
--
The next day, Jeongyeon finds herself leaning against the school rail with a novel in her hand.
She came 15 minutes early to school, plenty of time to read as she’s nearing the final chapter.
The weather is particularly nice today. It’s not too hot, not too cold and not too windy, it rests somewhere in between the three.
Every now and then, students who are noticeably years younger than her walk by, would drop a few “good morning, unnie”, before scampering away with their light giggles. They don’t even give Jeongyeon enough time to put her novel down and greet back.
She looks at the time on her wrist, and there’s three minutes left before class starts.
Thinking of already heading in, she dog-ears the page she’s reading and closes it.
“How’s it going, new kid? Already skipping school?” It’s the same girl from yesterday, walking towards her way, her hair now tied into a ponytail.
Maybe she just loves annoying Jeongyeon—not having anything better to do, or she just likes the attention—either way, they’re both counterproductive anyway.
Jeongyeon parts her lips, ready to say something back, but the sudden thump of a shoe against the uneven surface of the ground has her silenced, too dazed to even react that she merely steps out of the way, watching the girl trip and fall on her face.
The girl lets out a faint yelp as she moves her elbow.
It happened all too quickly.
The girl is not only irritating, but clumsy too. Great combination.
Jeongyeon squats down. “Are you okay?” She feels eyes all around them.
“Why do you always ask that dumb question?” the girl hisses as she tries to lift herself up. “Don’t look at me!”
“Let me help.” Jeongyeon chooses to ignore the remark and assists the girl gently by the arm, her novel sandwiched under her right arm.
“I’m fine. I can manage,” mutters the girl.
“I don’t think you are—”
“I said, I’m fine.” The girl hides her face in the fabric Jeongyeon’s blazer, cheeks flaring red.
The bell goes off and students finally begin to race inside the building, having less and less people in the space they’re in.
A final tug and Jeongyeon manages to make the girl stand on her feet—there are a few scrapes on her knees.
“I told you I was fine,” the girl says, glaring at Jeongyeon—probably just hiding the shame of tripping in front of the schoolyard.
“Right. I’m sure you don’t need my help walking inside then.” Jeongyeon expresses a dismissive shrug and begins walking away.
“I-I really don’t!” yells the girl, now a few metres away from her.
And Jeongyeon just throws an ‘ok’ gesture in the air without looking back.
She’ll be fine.
--
“So, do you have a crush on anyone so far?” Momo munches on the kimchi from her tray. It’s lunch time and they’ve just managed to find a vacant table amongst the dense crowd.
Hirai Momo, her newfound friend as well as her seatmate in class. A Japanese girl with a cute fringe.
She’s lovely to say the least—plausibly one of the sweetest people she has ever met.
It’s only been a week since she came here, and she has already grown accustomed to almost everything—her classes, the food and the people.
“Crush? I don’t even know half the people here,” Jeongyeon says as she shoves a slice of pizza in her mouth.
Momo shrugs. “I don’t know. I mean, there should be at least one person you find attractive, right?”
“Well, Mina is attractive…”
There’s a pregnant pause.
Momo begins to cough loudly, having bits of kimchi splattered on the table as she hits her chest continuously. There’s a look of surprise on her face. The situation she is in is right around ‘choking but not really.’
“You’re—you’re into… girls?” the girl manages to say.
Oh. She forgot she hasn’t come out to them yet.
“Yeah… is that bad?” her voice trails.
“No, no, no—” Momo flails her arms in front of her face. “I just never would’ve guessed. Me too, me too. Wait no, not really—I’m kind of into both.”
Jeongyeon’s smile reaches her eyes. That went way better than she had expected. “That’s nice to know.”
“But really? Myoui Mina?” Momo continues as she takes another bite. “The Myoui Mina? You have a crush on the Myoui Mina?”
What’s with the emphasis? Jeongyeon is more than confused. Sure, she finds Mina attractive but what’s with all the intrigue? “Okay, I said she’s attractive, I didn’t say that I have a crush on her.”
“Same thing,” Momo teases. She wipes her face with a napkin and turns to her drink. “You know that lots of students are crushing on you, right? Like as soon as you came in, you were the talk of the ‘town’. Boys, girls—literally everyone… I swear, majority of the people here are into you. But I mean, who wouldn’t be? With that charming smile and sick-ass hair.”
“And how am I supposed to feel about that?” She chuckles.
“I don’t know, you tell me.” Momo’s tray is now spotless. How did all the food manage to fit in such a small body?
“I’m part of the minority by the way,” the girl adds, revealing a cheeky grin.
“Thanks for letting me know.” She rolls her eyes jokingly.
“How are things between you and Nayeon?” Momo asks. All Jeongyeon’s senses immediately heighten at the sudden mention of the name.
Oh, and yes, Nayeon. Im Nayeon. The girl she had encountered in the bathroom was Nayeon. The same girl that tripped and fell in front of so many people.
Turns out she’s a really good friend of Momo. The latter claims that the girl is nice, but Jeongyeon doubts it. She’s seen what she’s like and she has seen enough.
And that girl is far from nice.
“Same old, same old.”
“Are you still not in good terms? I swear she’s a good person. She’s nice to most people I know. You just maybe have to let her warm up to you or something.”
“I don’t really care. She can do whatever she wants.” She leans away. And it’s true, she just couldn’t care less.
“Speak of the devil… Here comes your best friend,” Momo announces with a sly tone in her voice. Jeongyeon looks up from her tray and lo and behold, the devil approaches their table along with their other friends. And no, she’s definitely not her best friend.
“The line was so long! It took us awhile,” Jihyo exclaims as she sits right next to Momo.
Park Jihyo. Medium length hair, round eyes and a friendly smile. She’s a year younger than Jeongyeon yet quite mature for her age. And honestly, Jeongyeon can’t relate.
Jihyo is a good friend of Nayeon—the latter treats her more like her younger sister than anything else.
“Heavy tray coming through!” Sana singsongs animatedly as she sits on Jeongyeon’s right.
Minatozaki Sana. From Osaka, Japan but mainly spent her childhood in Korea. Insanely gorgeous and bubbly. Tall, close to Jeongyeon’s height and ridiculously fit for someone their age. She’s in Jeongyeon’s class as well. The girl practically grew up with Momo and would often call themselves soulmates and best friends, though Jeongyeon believes there’s something more—an implicit thing between the two—but it’s not her place to say so.
“New kid, move."
“Ow—Watch it!” Jeongyeon says as she feels her left leg being kicked. “You’ll spill your food!”
“I said move!”
“I can’t! Sana is literally right here!”
“You have a lot of space there!”
“Why don’t you just sit beside Jihyo! She has plenty of space right there!” Jeongyeon points to the vacant seat on Jihyo’s right.
“I don’t want to—this right here is my seat.”
“Says who?”
“Oh, boy. Here they go again,” Jihyo groans.
“Says your mum!”
A loud audible gasp is heard from Momo, and the entire cafeteria goes mute.
“Jesus Christ,” Jihyo mutters, covering the sides of her face with her hands.
“I think they’re staring us,” Momo muses.
“No shit.” Jihyo bites her lower lip.
“Guys, you’re embarrassing us. You know what, I’ll just move myself.” Sana pushes her tray forward, creating a screeching sound and sits on the other side of the table. “Why do both of you make such a big deal out of everything?” the Japanese girl adds, whispering.
The students turn to their businesses—the cafeteria now being filled with chatter and clamour again.
Incoherent words come out of the devil’s mouth as Jeongyeon scoots to the now empty space on her right.
A day with Nayeon is always terrible. So yes, being in the devil’s presence for days on end has been absolute hell for her.
Momo has been encouraging her to give the girl another chance, but what chance is there to give when the only thing Nayeon gives her is headache.
To make it even more interesting, Nayeon is exceptionally nice to everyone but her. How childish is that?
“Nayeon, isn’t Myoui Mina in your class?” Momo starts, and it grabs Jeongyeon’s attention.
“Yeah, why?”
“No reason.” Momo throws a glance at Jeongyeon’s way. Can she not?
“Wait, isn’t Mina a year younger than us?” Sana’s brows furrow.
Jihyo nods. “Yeah, but she’s really smart, as in smart smart. Like a prodigy or something. She used to be in my class, but they moved her two years higher this school year. So now she’s in Nayeon’s class.”
“Is that allowed?” Jeongyeon joins in.
“Good question. I have no idea,” Jihyo answers truthfully.
“Well, they already moved her, didn’t they?” Sana drinks her banana milk. “Speaking of Mina—Nayeon, didn’t you say you have a crush on her?”
The girl beside Jeongyeon stiffens.
Well, that’s new. Nayeon hardly ever gets caught off guard.
“Sana! I said she’s cute, don’t twist my words.”
“Same thing.” Sana shrugs. Have I ever mentioned how Sana and Momo are exactly the same person?
“Really? Jeongyeon said the same thing to me minutes ago!” Momo exclaims.
“Woah!” Sana says, clapping her hands excitedly.
“Oh, this is going to be fun.” Jihyo laughs.
Great. Jeongyeon winces. Way to add more fuel to the fire. Now Nayeon’s gonna think they’re both after the same person.
Mina is attractive, there is no point in denying that, but Jeongyeon has no plans on asking her out or anything, so there really shouldn’t be any reason for Nayeon to glower at her.
This feels as if she has been put in a hot seat, a very uncomfortable one as she feels Nayeon’s eyes bore into the side of her face.
Now, all thanks to Momo, things are going to be more interesting from now on.
The Japanese girl isn’t even bothered by the fact that she may have just stirred a possible dreadful battle. The girl is busy talking to Sana, both exploding with sweetness and naivety.
“I don’t like Mina,” is all Jeongyeon could say.
She makes a note to herself: Don’t tell Momo shit.
--
Another week has passed and Jeongyeon is sat on a chair in a library.
There aren’t many students around—kids hardly ever study these days. As for her though, she has to. It’s boring in so many ways but it will help her feel more at ease knowing that she tried her best.
She peeks over the transparent window and sees the vast horizon, painting the skies in hues of orange. She isn’t very fond of the colour, but when it’s amongst the clouds, it becomes a different story.
The chair across her creates a scraping sound as it’s dragged against the floor. The space is silenced. “Sorry, sorry…”
For fuck’s sake.
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t drag you out,” Jeongyeon says, groaning as she shoves her face in her palms.
“Because I’m pretty and you don’t own this building.”
Just when Jeongyeon thought she was going to have a good day, the devil decides to stop by uninvited. It’s a nuisance, really. Despite wanting to say something back, she doesn’t want to waste her energy on such an irrelevant and unproductive behaviour.
An exasperated sigh floats in the air as she turns her attention back to her notes.
‘Explain what we mean by the ‘lock and key model.’’
Okay. So, it is basically an idea… used to explain how enzymes work. It means that th—
“Hey, what are you doing?”
Jeongyeon closes her eyes. It means that the 3D shape of the active site o—
“Do you have a test or something?”
She clenches her jaw. It means that the 3D shape of the active site of the enzyme is like a lock—
“Which do you think came first—the chicken or the egg?”
“Can you please shut the fuck up?” She slams her hands on the textbook. “Thank you,” she adds as she sends a piercing glare across before scanning her notes once more.
‘What is the difference between a eukaryotic cell and a prokaryotic cell?’
Well, a eukaryotic cell is a cell that has… its genetic material enclosed i—
A sound of a pen dropping on the wooden table cuts her train of thought.
She tears her eyes off her book, face visibly displeased as she stares at Nayeon who’s busy stacking highlighter pens on top of another. This girl is meant to be a year older than her yet still acts like she’s 12.
She shakes her head. A eukaryotic cell is a cell that has its genetic material enclosed in a nucleus, whilst prokaryotic on the other hand is a cell where the genetic—
“So, new kid, do you like Mina?”
“For the last time, it’s Jeongyeon,” she snaps.
“Who cares?” Nayeon crosses her arms. “So, do you like Mina?”
Deep breaths. Deep breaths. “No.”
“Good. Who do you have an eye on then?”
“I swear to fucking God, if you don’t shut—”
“I’m just asking—"
“Well, can’t you see I’m studying?” she says, raising her voice.
Kids around her begin to stare. Jeongyeon could feel the judgment reflected by their gazes as they whisper to each other before resuming to their work.
It’s starting to feel like it’s her fault all of a sudden. It’s fascinating how quickly the tables have turned—against her favour. It’s unfair yet she manages to excuse herself; an apology escapes her lips, bowing simultaneously to those disturbed.
If looks could burn, Nayeon would’ve probably turned to ashes by now.
A chuckle is heard from the girl across, playing with her hair. “You still haven’t answered my question.”
Jeongyeon sighs. “I don’t have my eye on anyone, okay? There you go. Now, will you please leave?”
“I don’t want to.” Nayeon rests her head on the desk, fingers fiddling with the scattered pens. If anything, Jeongyeon reckons she’s just bored.
“Why?” It comes out more like a whine.
“Because arguing with you is fun.”
The abrupt confession leaves Jeongyeon baffled. And not only that but seeing the devil say it with a smile on her face makes it even more baffling, as though she’s toying with Jeongyeon’s sanity. It’s not just your casual, polite, closed mouthed smile—it’s your rare, one million-watt, gummy smile.
Pretty, she thinks.
She clears her throat. “You’re fucking crazy. Literally, who says that?”
The devil sits up straight with a slacked jaw. “What did you say?”
“What?”
“Don’t ‘what?’ me. You know what you said.”
“I said you’re crazy—"
Nayeon steps on Jeongyeon’s shoe under the table lightly, grazing it as if she plans on getting it dirty. “Call me crazy one more time and I’ll—”
“Crazy.”
A thud.
“AH FUCK!”
The rest becomes a blur to her.
It’s kind of embarrassing to be honest. And she refuses to retell what happened in depth.
Long story short, she goes home with a bruise on her knee and a niggling pain in her foot.
And forget about her study session; they both got kicked out.
She really should’ve seen it coming.
[What’s happening?]
she is fucking crazy.
7:22 PM · Mar 22, 2012 · Twitter for iPhone
--
Today is Friday. As what they always say, ‘thank God it’s Friday’. And it could only mean one thing to Jeongyeon—no, two things actually: No school and no Nayeon. It already screams heaven.
Oh, and not only that, but she had purchased a new video game yesterday and is looking forward to playing it during the weekends. Jihyo claims she has the game too, so maybe they can team up online.
“Jeongyeon, do you have cram school tomorrow?” Momo whispers amid their teacher announcing some shit she can’t be bothered listening to.
“It’s Saturday, so no. Why?” she whispers back.
“Can you maybe do me a favour?”
Her eyes perk up. Momo hasn’t asked her for a favour before. “Yeah, sure. What is it?”
Momo parts her lips, contemplating, but nothing comes out.
The background full of noise comes to a halt as the teacher taps his desk, calling everyone’s attention. “I expect this to be done by Monday, okay?” he says, referring to the writings on the board.
Jeongyeon supposes he tries too hard to be intimidating. Not even a student would flinch in his presence. As expected, the class carries on with their chatter and activities that aren’t school related. She does feel bad for him, but what can she do? Plus, he’s bad at teaching anyway.
“The thing is—“ Momo resumes. “—Nayeon asked me for help… this upcoming weekend. She said she’s failing chemistry… and I would love to help her… if I could, that is. But I already made plans with my sister and I can’t just cancel last minute. So… can you… maybe help her?”
“No.”
As if on cue, the teacher clasps his hands. “I’ll see you on Monday.” And with that, Jeongyeon shoves her books in her bag.
“Jeongyeon-ah~” Momo tugs on the hem of her skirt.
No. Even if she’s given a million dollars to do so, her answer will still be ‘no’. After what happened in the library, she’ll most likely lose her sanity if she does end up seeing Nayeon again.
God probably did her a favour by not putting the devil in the same year and class as her.
Their friends still don’t know what happened, and she doesn’t have the energy either to tell them. When she showed up at school and got asked about the bruise on her knee, she easily made up an elaborate excuse of bumping it on one of the school desks.
Things are easier that way.
“Momo, you know very well that we don’t get along. I would love to help, really, but just… not her.”
“I’ll treat you some ice cream… and bubble tea on Monday!”
Bubble tea? It’s tempting.
She shakes her head. “Sorry man, still no.”
Momo’s pout becomes even more apparent. Lips jut still and brows raised dramatically as if she’s mimicking a small puppy—such a sight melts Jeongyeon’s heart, but she has an ego to protect. She won’t budge now.
“Just please think about it?”
There is nothing to think about. What else is there to think about? They both can’t stand each other—end of story.
But instead of saying so, Jeongyeon reluctantly nods.
“Great!” says Momo, giving her a kiss on the cheek. Usually, she would scream and dodge the gesture, but not today.
She just smiles.
She’ll worry about it later. She has still got cram school to go to.
--
The mattress sinks abruptly as her back falls right in the middle. She keeps her eyes unblinking, random thoughts jumping in all sorts of places in her room. It’s everywhere and she barely can escape it. On the ceiling, on her bookshelf, on her desk—everywhere.
Throwing a small and quiet fit, hair tussling amongst the pillows, she heaves a big sigh.
Her phone lights up.
Momo
[10:33 PM] Hi. I know you’re stressed with school and cram school
[10:33 PM] And everything but
[10:33 PM] Pls don’t be mad…
[10:34 PM] I think we all are :/ fuck school honestly
[10:35 PM] and why would I be mad at u???
Momo
[10:35 PM] The thing is……
[10:35 PM] that’s a lot of dots.
[10:36 PM] you’re scaring me hdjshj
[10:36 PM] did something happen??
Momo
[10:37 PM] DON’T BE MAD
[10:38 PM] I may have… given... Nayeon
[10:38 PM] Your number…
[10:39 PM] Hehe.
She inhales sharply as she reads the messages over and over again, as though it’s able to magically change if she just gives it time.
“I may have given Nayeon your number,” she reads aloud.
Panic washes over her.
[10:48 PM] pls say you’re kidding
[10:49 PM] this has to be an april fools joke right??
[10:49 PM] right?????
[10:51 PM] MOMO-YAH
Momo
[10:53 PM] Bro it’s not even April yet T.T
[10:54 PM] fuckckckcckckckc
Momo
[10:55 PM] IM SORRY. LOVEYOU
She tosses her phone away, having it land neatly on her bedside table. What the fuck? How could Momo do this to me?
Pacing around her room, to and fro, she attempts to convince herself that this is nothing compared to other people’s problems. That this is just a test.
A TEST FOR WHAT?
Who does Nayeon think she is? It’s not like she’s the President’s daughter, right? Hakuna Matata—yes, there’s no need to worry. Everything is going to be just fine. If she just blocks her number—no, no, she won’t do that. Knowing Nayeon, that devil would probably bombard her with messages in her social media accounts. It would even be more frustrating.
The bruise on her knee is still no better than yesterday—it’s tiny but it’s still in the range of red and purple tinges. She frowns. “What am I going to do?”
A loud buzz. It’s her phone.
She closes her eyes, not wanting to be near it.
Another buzz. And another. And another.
She covers her ears.
It’s Nayeon. Definitely Nayeon. Momo isn’t the type to flood her with texts like that.
Her phone lights up for the nth time.
“Jesus.” Make it stop.
0XX-XXX-XXXX
[11:01 PM] New kid, it’s Nayeon
[11:01 PM] Me texting you rn doesn’t mean we’re friends..
[11:02 PM] But I just really need your help… Momo said u can help me
[11:04 PM] You there?
[11:05 PM] Also, sorry about ur knee. Like. Really.
[11:05 PM] And foot.
[11:05 PM] We’re cool, right?
[11:06 PM] You’re not ignoring me, are you
[11:06 PM] I should probably stop texting you..
[11:07 PM] Sike, it’s me again.
[11:08 PM] YAH
[11:09 PM] YOO JEONGYEON
[11:09 PM] How dare you disrespect me like this? IM OLDER THAN YOU
[11:10 PM] I know you’re reading this!!!
[11:11 PM] Should I break your fingers too??
[11:14 PM] AIGHT
Jesus Christ. Must she always live like this?
[11:15 PM] what do you want
0XX-XXX-XXXX
[11:15 PM] Hi. FINALLY
[11:16 PM] It’s about my chemistry subject
[11:16 PM] Can you maybe tutor me this weekend?
[11:17 PM] Pls?
[11:17 PM] You don’t have to, of course… But I kind of really
[11:18 PM] REALLY need ur help. It’s my last year... And I can’t afford fail this.
[11:19 PM] You know I wouldn’t ask you if I had a choice.
[11:21 PM] u honestly think I would?
Does Nayeon expect her to just forget about the things she did?
The audacity is just amazing, really. Why Jeongyeon of all people? Lots of other people will be more than willing to help her; people who either have a crush on the girl or people who want to get to know the girl better, and Jeongyeon is not one of them.
0XX-XXX-XXXX
[11:34 PM] Right.
[11:34 PM] Sorry.
[11:35 PM] This is obv dumb. Pretend you didn’t hear from me.
Guilt arrives unannounced. The grip on her phone has become tighter than ever, clueless about what the messages could mean or what to even say.
She buries her face in her palms as she lets her back fall on the floor.
It’s not easy; choosing between her sanity and helping the devil isn’t easy. But her mother always tells her to be nice—to others and even to your enemies.
As for Nayeon, she isn’t technically her enemy.
Yes, she hates her guts but calling Nayeon her enemy would be too much. The girl doesn’t even deserve such a title. She’s merely an acquaintance—whom Jeongyeon argues with 24/7.
Was Jeongyeon perhaps too mean?
An audible sigh leaves her lips. If she somehow does help Nayeon, what can she benefit from it? Because right now, it seems all too one-sided.
She kicks off her carpet. “I don’t know anymore!” She closes her phone and sets it aside.
If Nayeon fails her test, that wouldn’t be her problem though, right? It’s not like Nayeon is responsible for Jeongyeon’s grades, so why should she be worried about Nayeon’s?
But then again, it’s not like Nayeon wants to fail. Isn’t that why she had been asking her friends to help her because she wants to do better?
Stop being such a softie.
She turns and lies on her stomach. This is dumb.
An immediate realisation strikes her like a light bulb being switched on. Scurrying from the floor and unto her feet, she fixes her carpet in place and puts her slippers on.
Maybe her sister can help.
She scrambles towards the door and bolts downstairs where she finds Seungyeon, her sister, watching a famous TV show. People often tell them how they look so much alike, though Jeongyeon believes otherwise.
“Hey, can you help me for a second?” she asks.
“Homework?” her sister replies, eyes not leaving the television screen.
“No, no. It’s about something else. It’s more like—me asking for your opinion on something.”
Seungyeon whips her head. “Love life?”
“What? No! I-It’s not about me… It’s about my friend. She’s uhh asking for an advice but I couldn’t come up with one.”
Seungyeon laughs. “Sure. What is it?” She turns the television off, handing all her attention to her.
Jeongyeon sits on the edge of the couch. “So, my friend has this friend that she just can’t stand. Like, they literally argue all the time. And now this friend of hers is failing a class, so now she needs a bit of help with her studies and all, but the other friends… I-I mean we aren’t available to help her. Which then led this friend reach out to my friend. The thing is—this friend of mine… she’s a bit hesitant. Like I said, they argue all the time. But at the same time, she feels guilty about the thought of not helping that friend. What do you think she should do?”
Seungyeon gives her a look. “Why are they even friends in the first place?”
“They’re not technically ‘friends’, but y’know, they have mutual friends. An acquaintance maybe?” There’s a subtle wince on her face as she tries to sound convincing.
“Okay,” Seungyeon says. “Well, I think she should help that friend.”
“Why do you say so?”
“Because friends or not, the fact that that friend reached out to her specifically, tells me that she needs the help more than ever. If that friend swallowed her pride to talk to your other friend, why shouldn’t that other friend of yours swallow their pride as well?”
“Maybe because she had beaten the shit out of me,” Jeongyeon mutters to herself.
“What was that?”
“Nothing,” Jeongyeon says. “You’re probably right. Thanks.” She makes her way to the stairs.
“Jeongyeon, if your other friend feels guilty about not helping that friend, then maybe it’s a sign that she should.”
She stops on her tracks. “What if they fight again?”
“At least your friend tried, right? Better than not doing anything at all.”
She has lost count of how many times she sighed today. “Right. Thank you. I’ll make sure to tell her that.”
As she climbs the stairs, she hears chatter coming from the television again.
Perhaps her sister is right. It wouldn’t hurt to try once more. It’s no big deal.
After debating for minutes on end, she finally picks her phone up.
Jesus, take the wheel.
[12:27 AM] tomorrow. 2 PM. @ the library.
There, she sent it. She did it. She actually did it.
She takes in a good amount of air and tries to calm herself down. Deep breaths. Meditation usually helps. It’s okay, it’s only for a day.
It should help. Deep breaths.
“It’s not helping,” she mutters.
Regrets? Yup, she has a lot of those.
--
“No. Nayeon… look, how many aluminiums do we have here?” Jeongyeon asks, referring to the textbook in front of them. They have been in the library for more than an hour already.
For the past few minutes, Jeongyeon had been observing the girl beside her, understanding that Nayeon is having a hard time grasping the basics of the topic they are tackling.
Chemistry isn’t something students take lightly. It is hard—it’s even harder and more confusing if you don’t know the basics; she has been keeping an eye on Nayeon intently and how well she does in the exercises they do. And the results weren’t that great.
Jeongyeon figured that once she teaches Nayeon the basics, the girl would be able to pick it up in a flash.
There are plenty of things that surprised Jeongyeon about Nayeon today, one of which is the girl’s perseverance. She’s impressed at how determined she is—a trait that she least expected the girl to possess.
Nayeon tucks the loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Uhh... two?”
“Exactly. And on this side, we have one, right?”
“Right.” Nayeon puts on her thinking face.
“So, what do you think we should do? We should…” she coaxes.
“Double the number of aluminium on this side, which makes it two on both sides!” Nayeon exclaims. There’s now a bright smile on her face.
Jeongyeon chuckles. “That’s right.”
She can’t tell if Nayeon had briefly forgotten that they are inside a library or she’s purposely clapping her hands enthusiastically, overjoyed at the fact that she finally got the hang of it.
Somehow, Jeongyeon wishes she could see Nayeon like this all the time. The girl looks genuinely happy.
Happy. Jeongyeon is starting to like that word.
And they continue like so. Every time Nayeon gets something right, Jeongyeon would give her a high five. Then Jeongyeon would introduce a new topic, starting with the basics, doing a couple of recaps and Nayeon would end up finding it easier afterwards; the girl would even manage to solve difficult questions in a much lesser time. It’s impressive.
Perhaps, this devil doesn’t suck as much as Jeongyeon thought.
“Wow, I didn’t see it that way before. You’re really good at this,” Nayeon compliments as she finishes the final step of the equation.
“I guess you can say that I’m a genius.” She shrugs. A cocky expression paints her face as she crosses her legs. “Anyway, we should take a break.”
“Yes. I’m glad you said that. I deserve it.” Nayeon closes the book and rests her head on the wooden desk, her hair covering most of her face.
6:46 PM, her wristwatch reads. That was fast.
Jeongyeon swears it was only 4:00 PM just then.
“You know, I really didn’t like you at first.” Nayeon breaks the silence.
It catches Jeongyeon by surprise.
She quickly tries to form a coherent sentence using the clattered words in the corners of her mind, but Nayeon beats her to it.
“I hated the fact that you’re so confident. You know... walking around school on your first day and acting so friendly with the other students—I thought ‘who does she think she is?’. I judged you because everyone immediately liked you. It was a bit weird for me. And of course, I didn’t wanna be swayed like them. Immature, I know. I was so convinced that you weren’t as nice as they thought. That it was just a façade,” she says, voice still as low as a whisper.
Jeongyeon stays mum.
“But maybe I was wrong. I know you didn’t like me too, especially after that bathroom incident and the incidents after that. I didn’t even expect that you’d actually help me.” She rises from the table, brushing her hair neatly. “I guess what I’m saying is… thanks.”
Jeongyeon speedily scrambles for a response, for an answer in places that pose nothing but questions.
“Thanks… for… saying all that,” she manages to say.
Nayeon bites her cheek and avoids her eyes. “You’re still annoying though.”
There goes the Nayeon she knows.
Jeongyeon sticks her tongue out. “So are you.”
“I still can’t stand your face. Especially with that hair. It’s repulsive.” The girl gags.
“People say I look so cool and pretty with it. You’re just jealous.”
“Well, they’re lying,” the girl replies.
“You just thanked me and now you’re being crazy again. Should I have you checked?” She rests her hand on the girl’s forehead.
“Don’t touch me.”
“Are you really going to act like this the whole evening?”
“Maybe,” the girl mumbles.
“Maybe,” she mocks animatedly.
“I hate you.”
Jeongyeon scoffs. “I hate you too.”
“Shut up. I said it first.”
--
It’s Tuesday and their last period of the day.
More often than not, Jeongyeon finds herself zoning out during lectures. She often questions and blames the system. How it works and if it is indeed effective. Learning used to be so fun, but now it’s as if students prioritise memorising rather than learning it by heart; it makes them incapable of being creative. It saddens her, but it is what it is.
So here she is, doodling random objects on her notes. A star, tornados and all other things you can think of.
“How was the study session?” whispers Momo, peeking over her notes.
“It was alright. Better than I expected.” It’s true. Although they did argue a couple of times, they have managed to cover the important lessons Nayeon needed for her test. That being said, she wonders how the girl went.
“Really?” Momo muses. “That’s good news! Apparently, she’s getting her marks today—I hope she did well. She told me you’ve been nice to her.”
“She did?” Jeongyeon doesn’t believe it. Though, it’s a possibility.
The teacher stops writing on the board. There’s five minutes left before school ends, and Jeongyeon begins to pack her things sneakily. “Before you go, don’t forget about the test we have on Friday,” he says.
“I can’t even be bothered.” Momo hits her head on the desk. “Since when did school get this boring?”
Jeongyeon merely laughs at her friend’s antics. She can’t say she doesn’t feel the same.
As the big hand strikes at 12, she feels her neck sheathed by an arm, yanking her and Momo outside the class.
It’s Sana. Jeongyeon almost forgot that they all share the same class. “I heard you tutored Nayeon this weekend.” Her voice still chirpy as ever.
“Yeah, she’s a lot smarter than I imagined,” she replies as they walk towards the main exit. They usually wait for Nayeon and Jihyo at the gate. It has become a habit now.
“I see~ That’s why she bought you chocolates,” the Japanese girl chimes as she links her arm with Momo’s.
Momo halts. “She bought Jeongyeon chocolates?”
She bought me chocolates? It’s the first time she’s hearing this.
Sana gasps. “Wait! Was it… was it meant to be a secret? I-I had no idea!” The Japanese girl frantically tosses her hands in the air. “She’s coming! Act like you didn’t know.” She purses her lips as she waits anxiously.
Jeongyeon faces the front and sees Nayeon running. There’s this mystifying glow that surrounds the girl, a glow the coruscates each time she draws nearer, something Jeongyeon is foreign to. It radiates a vibrant energy, too blinding even for Jeongyeon’s already round eyes.
Their gazes meet, and the girl’s face quickly brightens, eyes forming a crescent-like arc. “Yoo Jeongyeon!”
Jeongyeon sees a sheet of paper crumpled in the girl’s hand. “I passed! I passed, I passed, I passed!” Nayeon animatedly announces, rushing to her like a small child.
What comes next is something out of the ordinary. A gesture that is so spontaneous and uncommon to Jeongyeon.
She holds her breath.
Her cold and icy skin now feels a tad hot, likely warm to the touch as Nayeon pounces on her, wrapping her arms around her shoulders—a tight squeeze around her torso with the girl’s chin resting against the crevice of her neck—she stiffens, every muscle tensing in the girl's hold, eyes as big and as round as a ball.
“Thank you,” Nayeon whispers, her voice dulcet like the sound of wind brushing past her ears.
Jeongyeon drags her delicate hands against Nayeon’s back and awkwardly pats it—gentle yet doubtful.
Her eyes shift to her friends, exchanging looks as if what they’re seeing is an utter bull. A curious glint resides in their eyes, but ultimately pull a teasing smile.
“Y-you’re welcome.”
This is weird.
Jeongyeon clears her throat. “Okay, you can let go now. Your hair stinks.”
“Fuck you.”