Then, we talked about things. He was fun, like more than I could imagine. I wouldn’t wonder anymore why Jongin had so many friends, because he obviously really fun to be around with. Until the teacher came in and greeted everyone. But something came around pretty weird—I never had this teacher. We only met on my freshman year, and I obviously pretty scarred for his cruelty on giving scores to the students. I, for one, almost didn’t pass just because I forgot to bring my homework once. That was why I decided to not have another of his piece.

“Have you not recognize him?” He sounded interested.

I buried my face in embarrassment. He knew that I was in the wrong class, but he let me be. It wasn’t his fault, but mine. I should’ve been more careful because sitting in the wrong class was an utter existence mock. I wasn’t ready to be more embarrass than I’ve been today. Jongin tried to hold his laugh.

“Shut up,” I hissed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You’re fun.”

“It’s not fun to sit in the wrong class.”

He swallowed his laugh, “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

I picked up my books and my phone fast. I put everything in the bag, zipped it, and was about to run from my seat when Jongin pulled me down. I looked at him in panic, but he looked so calm. Of course he’d be calm. I was the one in the wrong class, not him. He looked at me for a second, “I need your phone number.”

“Are you kidding me?” I raised from my seat, only to be pulled down.

“Give me your phone number.” He pushed his phone.

I took his phone fast and typed my number as fast as I could. Then, I dropped the phone and briskly ran outside. When I was outside, I looked back. Everyone was looking at me, including the teacher. He looked so pissed, but I don’t care because he didn’t hold my score anymore. But then I locked my eyes with Jongin. He looked satisfied. He held up his phone and mouthed, “Let’s binge.”

I couldn’t help but smile. He smiled back.

I left.

The thing about embarrassment, it didn’t just come up once. It came up continuously until the day ended. Today, I scored another embarrassment: my designated classroom was right beside the accidental classroom. So I was, for a long time, standing in front of my classroom with everybody looking at me—including Sehun and Mari who had each other for table seating—but what threw me away is the fact that my teacher was looking straight at me, confused.

“What the hell are you doing, Ahn Jisoo.” He snapped.

I ran into the class, “Sorry.”

I sat down right behind Sehun and Mari. They looked at me, trying to find the reason in my face. I shrugged my shoulder, and avoided them by pulling my books out—trying to seem like I was arranging my table. But I actually didn’t have that much to arrange. It was just too awkward to encounter both of them all at once. I kept my eyes straight to the board. I was trying to understand the hypothesis when I caught something in my ear. It was whispers. If it were usual whispers, I wouldn’t mind. But the subject I was talking about was Sehun and Mari. They constantly whispered to each other, like, things that pissed me off.

What you do in mornings, Sehun whispered.

I don’t know. Breakfast, Mari replied.

What Mari did in mornings was pulling her hair as straight as she could with a blow dryer, and then she would tell everyone how ugly she is today. But then again, why would people care about it when all people care was beauty, and outer . I never thought so low about Sehun, but now I do.

“Hey,” Sehun snapped my thoughts away.

“Yeah?”

“Party tomorrow at Jin’s house.” He told me.

“Are you coming?” Mari joined in.

I didn’t give them an answer because the teacher already stared at us hungrily. So they snapped their head back, and we were back from state one. Except that I actually got a message in the middle of the class. I pressed the home button, to see the notification. It was an unknown number. So I decided to open the message under the table, so the teacher couldn’t see me. I slid the screen, and the message popped like a candy:

It’s Jongin. Guess what, you are invited to Jin’s party. By me.

I felt my stomach grew a garden. It was a lot of butterflies flying around and my heart actually skipped a beat from someone who was, actually, not Sehun. I think my life had been revolving around Sehun a lot—not physically, but mentally. I was so caught up with the idea of Sehun, that I didn’t even realize I never had any friend other than Mari and Hana. But received an apology from Sehun really set me free. I was ready to take another step forward to the future.

I never really know that TV shows could bring people closer 100 times in a short amount time, because when I went to cafeteria. Jongin always managed to catch my eyes, and smiled at me. It was so hot, my yoghurt started to melt. He looked so comfortable, and I wondered why. He was always in the top of the social hierarchy. He went to every party and made the most of himself. He was so biased by freshmen until they could start a new club—but thank god, they didn’t. He was in the soccer team, along with Sehun and Jin. Jocks always stay together.

He was important, and I was just a girl.

“Are you not going to eat anything?” Mari asked, looking at my half empty tray.

“Yoghurt and sandwich.” I defended.

“Sandwich doesn’t really call for a lunch break.”

“It’s delicious.” I shrugged.

Mari didn’t say a word. She kept shoving her tray to get another side dishes. Hana had unfinished business with her art teacher so she didn’t come down for break. She had a habit of pilling up stuffs. I had to be honest, I’ve never been close to Mari. Neither did Hana. We just liked her because she came to us first. Plus, I looked ridiculous beside her. She was too pretty. I was like Bianca on The Duff. Totally hilarious beside her hot friends.

Sehun came in with his perfect hair, and his meal on the tray. He stopped a halt when he saw us in the line. Except the term us in the sentence before only includes Mari. He looked at her, and then me. For only a few seconds before he averted his eyes on Mari, again.

“Mari had an interest of becoming an Intel for final exams.” Sehun started.

Others made a welcoming sound. Well, I didn’t really pay that much of an attention, but I did know that Jongin didn’t make one. In fact, we’ve been having the best long stare since two minutes ago. He made a face, and took a bite on his lunch. I tried to look away, and biting at my sandwich—to prove that I’m busy too. Instead, I look at Sehun (worst idea ever) and deadly saw him falling over Mari, all over again. I rolled my eyes and landed on Jongin (again) and he looked smashingly more handsome than before.

He signed at my lunch’s pick, sandwich?

I nodded, I’m kinda full.

He smirked, Bull.

We kept making faces of things that we want to say. I had a good time with our little faces, and us in the background. I like the idea that we were alone in our conversation. There were downsides to be near Sehun. Ever since he wrecked my group of friends’ usual activities. I became rather lonely and disturbed because my circle of comfort has been compromised. Sehun wasn’t always butterflies and Reese’s peanut butters. That was one thing I learned about Sehun in high school.

When the bell rang, it feels like the best liberation I’ve felt since a long time. Jongin came beside me as I walk to my class. He stole a few glances, smirking his way up to my heart, before he finally say: “I’ll pick you up?”

I built these walls around me, only to have it crumble in seconds after he said it. I was completely unaware to reply anything to this type of conversation. I came abrupt halt and looked at him, fascinated and astonish. Both ways feel special, but that’s not the point here. The utmost point is I fascinate him enough to make me feel like the best, luckiest girl in my high school teenage dream. I love how he made me feel.

“Huh?”

“I mean, if you need a ride to the party.” He fidgeted.

“I have a car.”

He looked to another way before completely top it, “I have my own car.”

He caught me and I surrendered, “Fine. You win.”

He threw a winning punch into the air. He looked happy when I decided to let him take me to the party. I, too, was happy to give Jongin a chance. I didn’t notice that I was grinning at his behavior until he touched my cheeks. He didn’t pinch them. He just touched my cheeks and said, “Your cheeks are red.”

Well, me.

I hit his hand hard and cupped my cheeks so he couldn’t see any more of this embarrassment. He was grinning and pulled his phone.

“What are you doing?”

“You look cute. I mean…” He flipped the phone and I was greeted by my face in his phone. “I couldn’t pass this look.”

“Oh my god, Jongin!” I could feel my cheeks were getting red and the atmosphere around us was getting tighter and hotter. I’ve never felt like this in a long time. He was so nice to me and there were not a lot of boys that were nice to me. Well, Sehun counted but we kind of fell out for a few years before reunited.

Jongin shoved in his phone and patted my head, “Bye.”

He walked pass me and I could smell his fragrance. Jongin’s uniform was a mess. He didn’t wear any belt so his shirt was everywhere. His hair was tousled. He looked like a dream boy from a movie and I hated how that look. It made him look so cliché when he wasn’t at all. Sure, he had tousled hair and totally hot, but he was actually a decent human being. Surprisingly, he wasn’t a .

So, I let him in.

Nighttime took over fast. I already wore my favorite red dress and currently staring at my own reflection in the mirror. I swayed left and right to see if there was any spot that needed fixing. There was a lot. I still had fat in my waist and it kind of shown as the dress was almost backless. The voices lurked in again, but I kept the volume low so I could spend this night as free as possible.

I checked my makeup; lipstick, eyeshadow, mascara, and blush. I was ready to go. But Jongin hadn’t come yet, so I spent the time by playing my phone. A few minutes later, a notification popped in: where’s your cute @ I’m outside.

I didn’t have to see the name of the sender. I just know it was Jongin. I jumped out from the bed and looked outside from my window. There he was, leaning on the door with his phone. I brought up my phone and took a picture of him from my point of view. I sent it to him and in few seconds, he turned to me. I could see his smile from my bedroom. He spread his arms and said, “Come on. We’re going to be late!”

“Okay!” I yelled back.

I picked up my purse and ran outside.

He used the same car that I had seen in his house. But that didn’t really matter because Jongin looked the best tonight. He wore the shirt so casually it fitted right into his body. He styled his hair pushed back with a little gel. I guessed he find me staring at him longer than usual when he pulled his lips into a smirk and said, “Well?”

“You look goo—Nothing!” I almost choked.

“Get in.” He opened the door for me. I got in and waited for him to run across the car to get to the driver’s seat.

We drove to Jin’s place. He had connected the AUX into his phone, so we listened to his private—maybe go-to—playlist. He had a good sense of music. He wasn’t the type of boy who listened at hardcore rock music, or heavy raps. He chose the best of them, compiled and gave the playlist a soul. We were listening to Lauv: Paris in The Rain. I could noticed that he hummed a few notes through the song and sometimes let go of his desire to just sing-a-long.

I, in the other hand, was awkward with how to respond to these things. So, I just eyed him and sometimes let a few small smiles because Jongin looked cute. I knew he had been in this situation a lot because he knew when to stare and when to actually enjoy himself. I died a little, though, when he side-eyed me.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

“Huh?” I snapped from my own thoughts.

“You don’t like Lauv?”

“Oh, I do. It’s just I don’t really sing.”

“Oh, so you don’t like music?”

“No! I like music. Very much. It’s just…” I contemplated to answer.

“Well?” He waited.

“I don’t really sing with other people. I just sing by myself.”

“You should, though. It’s fun.” He picked up the volume and he started to sing out loud. I was laughing at him. He did a little fun dance in between and poked me around to sing. Then, I found myself singing little notes with him. I was actually happy. I forgot about my life and it was just Jongin and I. We were singing, sometimes with the words and sometimes nonchalantly.

The song was over and he offered me his phone, “You’re next.”

I clicked the side button and the phone lit up, exposing my face in his lock screen.