Boyoung shifts uncomfortably, as Minghao takes a step forward to stand a bit closer to the boy behind her. Just like her, Minghao is displeased by the boy’s sudden appearance. No one in her group liked him: especially Minghao; but, that was mostly her fault. As Minghao was forced to witness a lot of situations the boy would put her through. Thus, creating a conflict that lasted all the way up until she left school. And, as far as she knows, it never ended. Most of that, if not all of it, can be blamed on her.

“Why are you here?” Minghao spits as he crosses hi arms over his chest. “You’re a senior.” Boyoung feels her face heat up as her fingers dig into the palms of her hands. She vaguely remembers what happens next. He says something, Minghao gets angry, she tries to intervene, and in the end, gets a nice bruise on her leg from the both of them pushing her out of the way. It was a day that resulted in a lot of anger on either side.

Boyoung can feel herself grow anxious as her muscles tighten, and her mind goes blank. Beads of sweat begin to fall down her forehead, her stomach twitching and filling with fluttering butterflies, and her body lightly trembling from the thought of being close to him. “I can go wherever I want to, I don’t need permission.” The boy’s gruff voice, sends shivers down Boyoung’s body—making her hand reach out, slightly behind her, to grip hold of Minghao’s arm.

The Chinese boy glances down at her latched-on fingers; before, dragging his gaze toward her back. Finding her quivering slightly, and continuously tightening her hold on him. Huffing, he glances back at the older boy in front of him. “Can’t you see you’re not welcome?” Boyoung teeters on her feet.

If things keep going like this, it’ll happen again, and the whole point of this (to change the past) will be useless in the end. So, she’ll start here. The moment in which Minghao is supposed to fight him. And she can see it happening in her mind. The boy is clenching his fist, waiting for Minghao to do something stupid—say something stupid. Then he’ll strike. And Minghao won’t let it go, he never did. With his fists, he’ll swing one after another until the older boy is shaking in hostility. The older boy will smash his fist as callous as feasible into Minghao’s face, that it results in a broken nose. And Boyoung, she’d just stand there. Too scared to look at him. Too scared to help Minghao. Too scared to move.

“Let’s just go.” She mutters as she slides her hand down his arm to clench at his hand.

Minghao still fumes; but, stiffly nods his head at her. His fingers hook onto the strap of his backpack tighter, as he sends a warning scowl in the older boy’s direction. Boyoung tugs at his hand, stopping him from saying anything. He drops her hand, and stalks down the hallway a little ways away to soothe himself.

Boyoung—still facing away from him—glowers. In high school, she never stood up for herself. She never stood up to him. Instead she hid. Hid behind her friends. She hid behind Minghao’s strength. Hid behind Jun’s suave nature. Soonyoung’s intelligence. Chunja’s nasty attitude. And Chan’s weirdness. She often thought to herself that if she hid behind them, no one would hurt her. Never realizing that it was them that would end up hurting her. As a child, she was scared. Scared of people who might hurt her. But she’s not that kid anymore. She doesn’t need to hide anymore.

“Stay away from me.”

Her voice comes out vilified with animosity. Her tone as gravely as could make, while upholding a light shout. All the pain she had experienced was pushed out of her body and into that one sentence. The sadness had deviated from her long ago, now, all that’s left is anger. And when she walks away from him, the vulnerability she once was made of, sheds off of her with every burdensome step filled with arduous memories that she longed to be forgotten.

When she reaches Minghao, she neglects his stunned face, and wraps her arm with his— swiftly dragging him around the corner. “What was that?” He questions alarmed as he shakes her lose and fully faces her.

Boyoung shifts uncomfortably, “What was what?”

“That thing,” Boyoung blinks back at Minghao who points off in the direction of the older boy they had left behind. His face is still stunned: eyes wide, and mouth agape. Seemingly surprised by her new attitude. Boyoung tries her best to ignore it. “What you said, ‘stay away from me’.” He mocks in his version of an edgy tone. “What was that?”

She shrugs, “Pent up aggression, and I’m a bit on edge.”

Minghao frowns as the space between his eyebrows crease. His eyes narrow in her direction, flicking between her eyes to his feet and back. She supposes that he’s thinking the past scenario through. It, seemingly, makes no sense to him as he ends up shaking his head back and forth a few times. “Whatever,” He mumbles as he grabs for her bag off her shoulder and throws it over his own. “Let’s just go to class.”

Boyoung her teeth, class. From what she remembers, she and Minghao had all the same classes excluding for physical fitness. Physical fitness was a class separated by gender. Girls inside the gym. Boys at the track field. Which means, as long as she keeps by Minghao, she’ll know where to go. “Do you have our class schedule? I just want to glance over it.” Minghao looks down at her with furrowed eyebrows; but, digs into the pocket of his navy slacks and hands her a crumbled piece of paper.

She bows her head at him with a grin, “So resourceful.” He hides his smile from her by twisting his head and looking in the other direction. Slowly she creases out the edges of the paper and stares down at the subjects she took or is taking. Cultural studies, chemistry, Korean, English, lunch, calculus, physical fitness, and then study.

Boyoung lets out a sigh, “I forgot how much work there is with school.” She huffs and passes the paper back to a confused Minghao. Her least favorite thing to do once graduating college with her bachelor’s degree is think about what she did in school. Especially all the studying, homework, and unnecessary events that brought her mental aptitude to a whole new status. But, most of all, it drained her.

“You’re really acting weird, you know that?” Minghao asks as he ushers her into a classroom with titular title of ‘Homeroom 237’. The classroom that consisted of average grade students, most of them wanting to get business degrees and go into marketing when they get older. It’s a class of feasible minds, that could—and eventually would—be sculptured into superior minds.

Minghao ventures off to the back where a group of loudmouth kids sat, goofing around. Awkwardly, Boyoung shuffles into a seat near the middle and just a few seats in front of Minghao and his friends. Despite how he was as a shy ten-year-old, Minghao eventually grew into the guy that obnoxious kids got along with easily. And when she looks back at him, finding him leaning back in his seat with his feet resting on some other kid’s desk. He’s throwing his head back in laughter, and chucking pieces of paper at the back of some kid’s head.

“He’s angry, you know.” Boyoung lightly jumps in her seat as she reverts her vision to the front. Shuffling into the seat directly in front of her, is Jeon Wonwoo. A smart, dark haired boy that—if not for his association with him—reminds her a bit about Soonyoung. He’s quiet, and intelligent; but, also has a tendency to say meaningless sarcastic remarks whenever anyone challenges him.

Boyoung was constantly terrified of him. It was the way he carried himself and the way that he looked at her. He acted as if he didn’t care about anything, which terrifies her in its own right. The way he’d look at her, made her feel like his eyes were boring into her soul. As if he could figure out everything about her from just one look. He often looked calm and collected; but, something about the way he held himself made her think he was anything but.

And here he sits, in a desk chair with his head in a book; but, his mind elsewhere. “You’ve never talked back to him before, what changed?” His attention thoroughly stays on the book; but, she can spot his eye twitching to look at her. She considers Wonwoo to be an assistant to him. He often watches over her, for him, and relies information about what she’s doing, thing’s she said, and who she hangs around. It often used to get on her nerves; but, she never said anything or the fear that he would retaliate.

“He says, if you apologize by lunch, he’ll forgive you.” The dark haired pale boy finally glances up from his book to look at her with a smirk. And the smirk is enough for her to clench her fists underneath her desk and bite her tongue to hold back her snarky remark.

A loud scratching of a chair against tile alerts both her and Wonwoo who glance up and stare at Minghao who loudly brings a chair to sit beside her. Casually, he sits down and props his feet up on her table (making sure not to knock over her bag). “What are you doing, Jeon.” Wonwoo marks his page in his book before setting it down on the table and glancing toward Minghao.

“Good to see you too, Minghao,” The boy casually places his arm around the back of Boyoung’s chair and twists his lips into a sloppy smirk. “This has nothing to do with you.” With his free hand, he waves Minghao off.

Boyoung frowns and crosses her arms over her chest, “Go away Wonwoo, I’m not in the mood today.” The boy stares at her for a beat; before, calculatedly moving closer to her and letting his face hover just in front of hers. I don’t like this, she thinks to herself. Does he really have to be this close?

“There’s something off about you today.” He whispers as his fingers come up to brush against her cheek. Boyoung’s fingers curl by her sides. He’s too close. Way too close. To the point that his breath hits her face, and her senses are bombarded by mint.

A slam on her desks, jolts the both of them as Minghao rises to his feet again. “How many times do I have to tell you, Jeon?” He walks toward the pale boy, and wraps his fingers around the back of his chair—pulling it out and away from the desk. “Go sit somewhere else.” Minghao bitterly kicks at Wonwoo’s foot as he shoves the chair further back. Wonwoo chuckles; but, does as said. Grabbing his bag and book, he walks away—not before tenaciously bashing his shoulder into Minghao’s.

Once the chair next to her is free, Minghao takes it. After getting settled, he glances at her with a lifted brow. “You good?” Boyoung nods and relaxes into her seat—knowing that Wonwoo is now in the far back of the calls, away from her. “I don’t get why they bother you.” The boy settles his head a top his arms as he taps his foot against the floor in thought. Boyoung, on the other hand, tries to shake her mind free of the memory of the day he decided to pursue her.

[2004]
AGE 13

Boyoung’s arm loosely wrap around Soonyoung’s neck as he tightens his grip on the legs she has draped around his hips. The summer day had been long and tiring for the female. She had used all her energy to play ten rounds of volleyball with an energetic Chunja. Only to fail each round. Continuously getting creamed, over and over again. Much to Jun’s delight, as he made fun of her constantly, and laughed at her defeated gaze. Soonyoung on the other hand stayed at the chairs they had placed on the sand, and casually read one of his books. Chan played by the ocean looking for seashells, with Minghao keeping a close eye on him.

Once everyone lost energy, the group called it a day. Minghao took a sleepy Chan home, while Jun and Chunja took the bus to their neighborhood. Leaving Boyoung with Soonyoung, who offered to carry her—knowing that her legs are too weak from running around like a maniac and their houses aren’t too far from the beach they were at.

Boyoung nudges her face into the crook of Soonyoung’s neck making him side glance her. “You awake?” He questions to which she shakes her head no. A light chuckle vibrates through his chest as he keeps himself at a slow and tranquil pace. Are arms shift around his neck to rest in a more unruffled position. “Are you hungry?” Nearly instantly, the girl nods—both knowing the convenience store is just around the corner.

“We should’ve brought snacks, I was dying.” She mutters to which he laughs.

Of course, he was perfectly fine with his chair, his book, and a plastic bottle of water. Unlike her, who was barely surviving with five bottles of water. She needed more stamina. She needed protein.

When they reach the parking lot, he places her down on the curb and watches as she lies back on the pavement and places a hand over her eyes. “I’ll be right back, okay?” Solemnly, Boyoung nods as Soonyoung spares her a few glances as he heads inside the store. Thus, leaving Boyoung to wallow in self-pity at the immense amount of pain pulsing through her body. She should know by now that her, and exercise don’t go hand in hand. She doesn’t have the stamina or adrenaline for it.

Her breathes come out ragged and fast pace as she drags herself up into a sitting position. Her eyes gaze around the parking lot as she leans her head a top her knees. They don’t stop looking, until she finds herself gazing at a hunched over boy being pushed around by three older looking men.

Boyoung’s eyebrows furrow as she watches the boy—who looks to be about her age—plead to them. She’s too far away, so she can’t exactly hear what he’s saying; but, she can tell, just from that look: nothing is okay.

The older men push at the younger boy again, this time resulting in him stumbling to his knees. Boyoung lightly gasps as the men hover over the boy, mumbling something incoherent but in an aggressive manner. The tall and slender one wearing a grey beanie kicks at the boy’s chest—sending him backward to lie fully on his back. The three older boys look at one another; before, nodding at each other, and leaving.

Boyoung pulls herself to her feet, and chaotically and slackly jogs her way over to him. “Hey!” She calls out in a soft tone—catching the boys attention. He looks up at her—some of his hair slipping over his eyes when he does so—and stares back at her with furrowed brows. “Are you okay?” The girl crouches down beside him and softly glances over him—not recognizing him from anywhere.

“I’m fine,” He replies in a soft manner. Boyoung shakes her head. She doesn’t believe him. It doesn’t look like that situation was a onetime thing. It’s probably happened more than once. More than just one kick to the chest. More than just a few angered mumblings. “You go to my school, don’t you?” He mumbles as he manages to pull himself up.

Boyoung’s eyebrows clash together, “We do?”

The boy doesn’t reply but instead glances at her from the corner of his eyes. As if he, himself, is a bit unsure. It’s not often you see classmates in anything other than their uniform. But he definitely recognizes her. Boyoung watches as the gears in his head finally click, “Yeah, you hang around that lanky kid—he’s in my grade.” The boy stares back at her with a permanent unnerving gaze. Boyoung ignores it, and instead murmurs the word lanky in confusion. She supposes he’s talking about Soonyoung who’s still in the store; but, then again, he could be talking about Jun too or even Minghao.

“I guess.” She replies as she drags herself back a bit.

He narrows his eyes on her, and swipes a hand over his mouth. All of a sudden, Boyoung isn’t liking this. He doesn’t seem as vulnerable as he did before. He looks threatening, like he’s going to smack her just for witnessing what he went through. She should’ve just stayed away. But she didn’t want to neglect someone who may have needed help. “Um,” She mutters as she carelessly takes a step back. “I should get going, I really hope you’re okay.”

Boyoung waves the tips of her fingers before twisting on her heel to head back to the store. She only takes about one step (maybe two). “Thanks,” The boy calls out as he inserts his hands into his pockets. “Boyoung.” And then she bolts for the shop at top speed. She didn’t say her name. He knows her name; but, not her supposed lanky friend’s name who’s in the same grade as him? Eerie.

Soonyoung exits the convenience shop the minute Boyoung reaches the door. “We have to go.” The girl yelps as she clamps her hand onto his own, and drags him off with his other hand filled with snacks and his mind utterly confused.

That day, was only the beginning to what seemed to be a constant disturbance from a muddled and unsettling boy. She really wishes that day didn’t happen; but, she’s near positive that the boy had his sights on her even before she met him.

[PRESENT DAY]

Boyoung’s exhausted by the time lunch comes around. She wants to pass out and sleep for the next decade; but, Minghao decides to drag her along with him to their groups lunch table. “You’re never this tired after class.” The boy muses as he glances at the hunched over girl whose body looks like it might just faint if she goes on like this for any longer. Boyoung looks up at him, and frowns at his smirking face.

“I haven’t done this in forever, okay? I’m trying my best here.” She retorts.

Minghao shakes his head at her comment, “You’re so weird.” All day, he’s been telling her that. And all day, she’s been ignoring it; because he doesn’t even know the half of it. It’s been a struggle keeping up with all the information for all the subjects she’s studying, and she’s barely surviving the looks that Wonwoo spares her throughout the day. She can’t even imagine what it’s going to be like when she sees her parents. Her mother will be able to spot out any lies she says if she has to say any at all.

“Whoa, what happened to you?” Boyoung looks over towards her left, to find Chan falling into step with her and Minghao. A huff leaves as her hair falls over her face and down her shoulders. “Lots of homework? Bad test grades?” The boy lists off as he leans his head closer to her.

Boyoung shakes her head, “To much lecture.”

Chan glimpses at Minghao in bewilderment. Last time he checked, Boyoung’s favorite part about school (besides being with her friends) is lectures. She enjoys learning new material. Minghao, in return, shrugs his shoulders as the three exit the building to find themselves in the quad of their school. Chan runs off. Getting in the lunch line because—once again—he forgot to pack one.

Minghao taps her on the shoulder, making her look up. “Head over to the table, I’ll be there in a minute.” Boyoung sends a thumbs up to him as she collides into the nearest table (their table) and places her head-on top of her arms. She believes her job is exhausting when in actuality school is a lot harder. All the information. The studying. The never-ending tests and quizzes. Teachers getting mad when you talk. Teachers getting mad when you don’t talk. Drama from other kids. Drama from the homework. Drama from everything. School is like a mini republic. One that is beyond intense and bursting with catastrophe, then a regular country.

“What’s going on?” Chunja asks as she sits down at the table and pats Boyoung’s back.

Boyoung squints in the blonde girl’s direction, “I think I might die if I go on any longer, save me.” Chunja scoffs as she places her lunchbox down on the table and hands off half of her sandwich to Boyoung who grabs it rapidly. Instead of making her own lunch, Boyoung often stole bits of food from her friends. Chunja’s sandwich, Soonyoung’s pink milk (he usually brought one for her), whatever specialty item Jun’s parents made him, sushi from the cafeteria food Chan would get, and any food that Minghao would give to her if she begged enough.

Which is how she ends up will all of that on a plastic plate Chan had brought from the cafeteria. “Why are you so tired today?” Jun asks after finishing his food and throwing it into the nearest trashcan. It’s because I’m not used to this, she thinks to herself; but, she only ends up shrugging her shoulders and leaning her head on Soonyoung’s shoulders.

“You know, you have been acting strange since this morning.” Chan adds from across the table. Tell me about it, she continues as (once again) she shrugs her shoulders. She’s pretty much figured out that there’s no way any of them could possibly figure out what’s going on with her. Unless they’re as crazy as she feels.

Minghao stands up and stretches out his body, “Twenty minutes till we’re back in class—basketball?” Jun promptly stands up and throws his arm around the latter’s shoulders, giving him a nod. When the other two boys don’t stand up: Jun picks Chan up by the back of his shirt and Minghao kicks at the back of Soonyoung’s foot. “Let’s go, two against two.” Soonyoung shakes his head with an adamant grunt of difference.

“I at basketball.” He drones; but, Minghao is pulling him out of the table before anyone else can say anything and dragging him down to the blacktop. Leaving behind Chunja and Boyoung. She feels like it’s probably a good thing that they left. Chunja hasn’t asked whether or not something’s wrong with her. It’s only been the boys. Even Soonyoung has been looking at her like she’s unusually out there today.

Chunja claps and scoots closer to Boyoung, “Now that they’re finally gone, we can talk.”

“About what?” Boyoung replies with a raised brow.

Chunja scoffs, “You forgot already?”

“Well, I mean,” Boyoung pauses. To her it’s been years, to Chunja it’s only been a few hours since they lost saw one another. “My mind’s been frazzled lately, sorry. Remind me?” She doesn’t really remember any conversation that was private between just her and Chunja. Even the topic about crushes was shared with at least one another person in the group (usually Chan who accidentally walked in on their talks).

Chunja leans closer and places her hand next to , “My secret admirer.”

The dark haired girl halts. This is where the problem really begins. That stupid admirer. It was the stupid admirer who caused a rift between her and Chunja. A rift that soon led to the others being weary about her. And so, while Chunja tries to remind Boyoung about her super sweet secret admirer, Boyoung searches her brain for who the secret admirer was. And only one name comes to mind: Yoon Jeonghan.