I pedal my bike with confident steps. The first day of my senior life is beginning, and I have no intention of getting anything lower than an A+. The path that Myungsoo made for me gives me a steady way to school. It's not snowing today, but the wind is as icy cold as if it were. I let my curly hair down this morning, and it's now whipping me in the face.

When I arrive at school, there's only a few minutes to the bell. The gates will be closing any minute now. I lock my bike up, ready to head inside. But a flash of red hair stops me. Hana's chubby figure runs to where I am, and I tame the urge to flee. "Hey, you," she says. She reminds me fairly of the playground bully from when I was younger. She's not wearing our deep blue uniform, instead, she's wearing a shirt that is basically filled with chains, ripped jeans and black converses. Her piercings and dyed hair remain in contact, though I'm sure the school will have her dye it back.

"Are you the girl from the cafe?" I say, feigning innocence.

Hana rolls her eyes at me. "Well, duh." The bell chimes clear over our heads. "Aren't you going? We're in the same class," she says matter-of-factly. I groan inside my head, and walk with towards homeroom, suddenly not feeling so confident anymore.


When Mr. Chung introduces Hana and Haneul to the class, I can already see most of the boys' hearts melting. Hana is walking with heavy steps to her seat, which is thankfully in the front of the room. Haneul walks with the grace of a swan to the back, and my heart pounds loudly in my chest. She takes a seat next to Myungsoo, and shoots him a little smile. He looks out the window, with the same unreadable face he always has painted on.

I take a deep breath, and tune into another boring lesson.

Once lunch starts, I can hear Krystal going off again. "Hana is so fat," she scoffs. "She weighs as much as an elephant!" She imitates an elephants roar, much to Sulli's delight. "And what's up with her hair? Can't she afford a decent cut--"

I snap around, hitting my textbook hard onto their table. Krystal and Sulli flinch, faces masked with pride. As I'm about to yell some witty remark, an arm comes out from behind me and grabs onto Krystal's hair. My mouth drops open.

Haneul's eyes are blazing. She pants, from anger, her hands shaking. She lowers her face closer to theirs, and scowls. Her frail arm has a strong grip, and Krystal meets her eyes with fear. "Don't you dare talk about my sister like that, do you hear me?!" she screams. Her high-pitched voice bounces off the walls, echoing in the silence.

"Jo Haneul, what are you doing?"

We both turn, Haneul hastily letting go of Krystal's hair. I can just make out Krystal's evil grin. Mr. Chung walks in, snapping the same strawberry gum, his mouth wide open. "Nana? Again? Lay one more finger on Jung Krystal and you'll be suspended, young lady."

"But, sir--"

"No buts. You'll both stay back after school for detention."

Haneul kicks the end of the table furiously, then storms out of the room. Krystal and Sulli are left in the room with me, sniggering with delight. One glance at them tells me that it's not worth it. I walk out of the room with my heart pouding loudly, unsure of what I've just experienced.


I've never been to an after school detention before. I've never actually ever been acused of attacking someone, either. But by the time that I arrive at our normal classroom, Haneul's already inside talking to Mr. Chung. "Come in Nana," he says in a bored tone. "You'll both clean up this classroom top to bottom. I expect it to be spotless. You can leave after you're done." He hands us cleaning equipment, and leaves.

There is an awkward silence hanging through the air. I grab a mop and start clumsily lashing at the floor. Haneul, with her tall frame, dusts off the blackboard. Room 23 has never been clean. It's the sort of classroom with the spiderwebs hanging near the corners of the room, the one with the weird smell and the table with writing on it. But it's always been our classroom.

The mop isn't exactly clean, either. It leaves a trail of gray puddles wherever I move it, so I can only add more dirt onto the ground. I harshly push the handle of the mop hard onto the ground, with a deflated sigh. "You didn't have to do that," I say to Haneul's back. "Words are enough to make Krystal stop talking."

"I'm not a bad person, you know," she says, whirling around to face me. Her hair flicks around her perfectly. She looks like one of those hair models, even though it's fairly short, stopping a few inches below her shoulders. She places the duster carefully back down, and sighs. "And I'm only telling you this because you seem like an okay girl."

Haneul talks cautious steps towards me, even though her eyes are oozing with confidence. "Don't confess to Myungsoo."

I blink a few times before I realise what she's on about. "Sorry?"

"You heard me. I want him. And when I want something, I get it. Don't confess to him, because I don't want to have to hate you," she snaps. "Make it easier for me. We can be friends." Her face lingers dangerously close to mine. Haneul's slanted eyes stare back at my bambi ones, a nonverbal threat; I dare you. 

I back away. "I don't know what you're talking about..."

"The innocent act won't work on me, sweetie," she says coyly, picking up the mop that I left in the bucket. "Don't become my competition," she whispers softly. "You won't win."

"You don't even know him. You're from France!" I cry. Everything is just too ridiculous. Haneul looks as though she wants to murder me.

"I've heard about him," she says, smiling. "She tells me he's like a prince. He's amazing and sweet and everything a girl could ask for." I can almost see the love hearts dangling in her eyes. Cupid's shot her hard. But one thing she's said makes me think.

"She?" I mumble, my finger on my bottom lip. "Who's she?"

"The person I hate the most," she says bitterly. "Han Yunji."

Another silence passes. I can't think of anything to say. In my mind, I think of Yunji. So perfect, so sweet. So much like...Haneul. The similarities are obvious, distinct. Why would Haneul hate someone she obviously looks up to? "Aren't you supposed to be friends?" I ask lamely.

Haneul scoffs, but I can see a flash of hurt behind her mask. "I'm better than that. I'm better than she is. I can get the one guy that she couldn't get, but wants so badly," she says with a slow smile. "You're not going to tell him you like him, will you?"

She's scaring me. The way that her eyes gaze into mine, her tight grip on Krystal's hair. Everything about Jo Haneul seems a bit...psychotic. I want to suggest she goes to a counsellor, but the crazy smile planted on her face tells me otherwise. "No," I say, with my head hanging low. Not yet, anyway.

"Good," she says, obviously pleased. She fixes her hair, which went a bit messy from her crazy fit, and gives a happy sigh. "I'll mop, you start on the walls."

I silently pick up a sponge, not wanting to look back at Haneul, who has changed drastically in half an hour. We don't speak for the rest of the detention, nor do I want to.

scary haneul. ;-;
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