My phone beeped incessantly.

Where the hell are you? We said 12.30, it’s 12.40!

We already ordered for you, Curry Udon. Ironic because he ordered the same thing.

I swear, you’re never late. If you’re trying to bail on us…

“There you are!” Tiny hands grasped my shoulders, and I turned around to find Jung Eunji, aka the cutest thing who ever cuted on this campus. She was like a human pikachu, her mannerisms electrifying, hyperactive, and wholly contagious. “Geez, you’re sweating!” she laughed, rubbing her palms against my jacket.

Despite the cool weather, I could feel my skin sticking to my cardigan. “I was running from across campus, but then my feet started to ache and I was all, why bother if I’m already late?” I gestured to my burgundy booties, the square heel comfortable but not comfortable enough to run in. “Were they making sure I wasn’t late on purpose?”

Eunji skipped in her trainers, shrugging. She puckered her lips as if she were on a lollipop. “Dunno, are you being late on purpose?”

“Maybe. Maybe I was mildly distracted by youtube videos. Because you know, you can watch youtube for hours and hours without noticing.”

The brunette laughed at my rambling, “My boyfriend’s right, you two are perfectly weird for each other.”  

“If this is going to turn in some sort of insider-running-gag for me, I swear.” I sighed, before letting Eunji drag me into the tiny soup shop.

“And we made it!” Eunji cheered, pushing the door open in a dramatic entrance. “Sorry boys, we were just being fashionably late.”

“I didn’t know jeans and a t-shirt was fashion forward, Eunji-yah.” Sungyeol drawled, his starvation eating its way into his (lack of) common sense.

Eunji stuck her tongue out, before wedging herself in between Sunggyu and Howon.

We were like sardines packed in the little shop, the nine of us taking up the only long table in the shop, with our backpacks piled haphazardly upon the tenth seat.  There was only one seat available left, obviously on purpose. I glowered, noting it was right across from MPDB.

Dongwoo opened the empty chair out, urging me to sit down. "Hurry and eat. You came just after everything came in." His happy disposition was something I could never resist, and I plopped myself down in front of a steaming bowl of soup.

With everyone present, everyone dug into their meals. In between catching my breath and trying not to choke from the delicious noodles, I noticed MPDB slurping his udon with gusto, practically inhaling it. He was thoroughly enjoying it, the way he wasn't stopping to breathe, and how he didn't leave any vegetable uneaten. It was adorable.

There was nothing incredibly blinding about his appearance, in fact he doesn’t even try to impress. His fashion was frumpy and dark and so incredibly him, because he was one for practicality and comfort. Today he sported a black pullover and sporty indigo drawstring slacks. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, which were currently in the air as he finished cleaning off his meal.

“Not hungry anymore?” It was Sungyeol, who was suggestively raising his eyebrows as he sipped a tall glass of water.

“I’m done.” I countered, tilting my empty bowl for confirmation.

“Then I guess you must be hungry for something else.” he teased, making wiggly eyebrows. “Or, someone.”

Whenever Sungyeol does something stupid, which is all the time, it was nearly second nature for me to hit him. So by reflex when the wooden heel of my shoe kicked his shin, I expected him to curse out exasperatedly and cry.

Instead, the boy across on me started choking on his soup, dropping his bowl with a dull clang. “Ouch, what the hell?”

I felt my body freeze up like cinderblock, and I felt my stomach drop deep to a place I’d probably never recover from. I watched dumbly as the people around us babied him and rubbed his back, offering him water and asking if he was alright.

“Myungsoo,” I finally heard myself say, “I’m so sorry!”

He didn’t reply, of course, but continued to cough and splutter like a fish out of water, refusing help as he waved his arms around.

That little piece of horse dung Lee Sungyeol was trying so hard not to laugh, and offered me the glass of water Myungsoo previously rejected. “Seems like you’re choking as well, was the soup too hot for you?”

Clenching the cotton spandex of my leggings, I shot Sungyeol the dirtiest glare only reserved for infuriating kids like him. It probably made me look more of a fool accompanied with my blotchy red face, but the fire fueling my embarrassment was too strong to contain.

“It’s okay,” the victim said to me, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. He mustered a small grin of assurance, waving his palms around like the good sport he was. It hurt my heart, and only made me feel even lousier. “It was an accident.”

“Oh, it wasn’t an accident.” Sungyeol blabbed with his big mouth. “She was aiming for me—hey, that hurt!”

This time, I made sure not to miss his gangly legs. I hope Sungyeol had bruises.

Finding my voice once again, I said, “I’m really really sorry.” and I lowered my head.

I looked up through my eyelashes, only for him to mumble another polite “it’s okay” which rendered me speechless once again. I could only wallow in my embarrassment, with Dongwoo patting my back, and Kim Myungsoo ordering a second bowl of Curry Udon.