Boyoung is dazed at the sight of herself in the mirror. “I’m still in the past.” She mutters to herself as she runs a hand down her face. She was beginning to believe that yesterday had been a wholesome hallucination. What with seeing them all again, seeing her mother, remembering the things she had long stored away in a locked box deep in the back of her mind? It’s a mix between a horrid nightmare and a wonderful dream. She gets to both change the past and also relieve it. And the last thing Boyoung wants: is to relieve the bulk of her messy past without changing one thing.

Nerves hastily engulf her, as her mind immediately jumps to concocting some kind of fall back plan in case she can’t fix everything. Or worse, she can’t fix anything. In figures, she has a fifty-fifty shot of changing the events. All Boyoung has to do, is find the one thing that caused the ripple effect. She believes it’s something that happens at the camping trip; but, she doubts it’s the event that she’s thinking. Yet she’s certain—nearly one hundred percent positive—that the camping trip is where Chunja begins to detest her. Boyoung’s hoping, that as long as she can keep shut, things won’t go the same. In the meantime, she has two days before the next gift from Jeonghan—before Chunja goes all nutty over her secret admirer. Two days to figure out who Jeonghan is working with and—most importantly—why they’re doing this.

Huffing at her childlike appearance, the girl rings her hair into a ponytail and finds herself slipping into the uniform she blatantly still dislikes. Her fingers latch onto her backpack, dragging it over her shoulder; before, she realizes she’s exiting her room and leaving for downstairs

On the couch in her family room, stiffly sitting with his knees together and his hands nervously tapping on the top of his binder, is Soonyoung. He usually got to her house nearing six, and then when the clock six thirty: he’d wake her up by knocking on her door and calling out her name. But as an adult, Boyoung is no stranger to getting up early. Hell, getting up at six is a luxury. For work she’d get up at five and not get back home until one in the morning.

“Morning, have you eaten?” Soonyoung’s head shoots up at the sound of Boyoung’s voice—seemingly shocked at her appearance.

The boy shoots to his feet, and watches as the girl makes her way to the kitchen. “You’re awake,” He mutters in bewilderment before his feet are tugging him to follow after her. He in a breath as the girl grabs an orange and begins peeling it. Soonyoung, on the other hand, takes a seat at the kitchen counter and stares at her with a tilted head and a muddled pout. “You hate getting up early.”

“It’ll benefit me in the future if I start now, though.” And it’s true. During her college years—after everything for her settled down—she learned how to both get up early and only survive on three hours’ worth of sleep.

Boyoung twists to glance at Soonyoung as she leans her elbows on the counter, “Better late than never, you know?” Despite still being perplexed, the boy nods and continues to watch as she eats slices of the orange before passing a few to him to eat. “Besides, gives us more time to talk, right? I mean, you never know, we might not know each other in the future.” Soonyoung coughs on his mouthfuls of orange at the statement.

“What is that supposed to mean?” He wipes his mouth with a thrown napkin, and spits out the pieces of orange stuck in the back of his throat. Boyoung watches with modest interest as he fixes himself up and looks back up at her with a frown. “Don’t be pessimistic; we’ve been friends since we were in diapers…what’s going to stop that from happening ten or twenty years from now?”

Boyoung shrugs, “I’m just saying.”

“Well don’t.” He grimaces.

The girl decides to take it down a notch—knowing full well what Soonyoung’s anger can do to a person. The boy, while mainly an intelligent, kind, and refined person, has a tendency to go off on a tangent when things make him angry. It’s not that he gets physical—in no way, shape, or form; but, rather as if he believes the best way to get his point across is through psychological warfare. He deems low blows (such as calling one a damaging name) is justified as long as he backs it up with facts that supports his ideology. While his statements are adherently cruel, one can’t help but be bored and hurt by the past events he brings up to aid his stance on whatever the argument is. It’s honestly like arguing with a professor of biochemical engineering or physics.

Boyoung finishes the rest of the orange and straightens herself up to stand in front of him. She goes to talk; but, Soonyoung does so before she can. “I can’t put my finger on it; but, something about you is really different and it’s starting to put me on edge. You’re not the type of person to be crying in public, or to be in the senior building when it’s not permitted, you’re not loud or defensive, and you’re not cynical. And you certainly don’t look at things in a negative light. What’s happening, Boyoung? Because I’m lost.”

The girl dries at the mouth.

Over time she had disregarded the fact that Soonyoung knew her just as well as she knew him. And god, does he know her well. From the way, her attitude once was, to the way she acted in certain scenarios. He knows everything. He even knows how much she hates crying in front of people and how much of a rule follower she is. That may seem like basic knowledge to most; but, it took Jun four years to figure out how severe her allergic reaction to shrimp is: meaning, he experimented by giving her a shrimp that sent her straight to the hospital.

“I-I just…” Boyoung trails off as her shoulders shrug.

What is she supposed to say? That she’s from the future and knows for a fact that they won’t be friends in exactly one month? He’d probably send her to the hospital to be observed by mad scientists or possibly think she’s gone insane. She even feels foolish.

Soonyoung shakes his head as he slides off the counter chair, “Let’s just head to school.”

▰▰▰

If you’d told Boyoung that she’d be spending her Tuesday morning before class balancing on the toilet seat of an out-of-order cubicle, before she had her morning chai latte, she’d have snorted in laughter. Like, surely, she wouldn’t be that desperate.

But, boy was she wrong.

What makes things even worse, is that the cubicle isn’t even out of order. She had just printed out her own out-of-order sign in the computer lab so she wouldn’t be busted for spying.

The biggest dilemma with following Jeonghan, is the fact that they’re in entirely different buildings and lunch times. Their study sessions are completely opposite: while hers is at the end of the day, his is at the beginning. They can’t even have the same tutor. Because she’s taking basic math, science, history, and language classes. And he takes business, politics, and foreign classes—making him destined to rule fashion empires and increase his families fortune in the stock exchange.

But, conveniently, she had heard some girls from his class behind her in the hallway (after insistently walking a disorganized Soonyoung to his class) while she walked back to her building. Their voices seemed to be on another frequency, which made it wholeheartedly easier to overhear. Of course, she was all ears. The girls had been chattering about how they’d be able to spot Jeonghan’s elegant walk to the bathroom within fifteen minutes. And that he’d be escorted by some tall fellow—their exact words.

In that time, she was able to print off a plucky sign and steal some thumb-tacks from a poster board. Now all she has to do is wait.

And seriously, Jeonghan and the tall guy are taking forever.

Her knees are growing painful with the way they’re bent. It’s hard for her— tremendously hard—to lift her legs up and balance them on a toilet cubicle on top of it all, she’s wearing her Jimmy Choo ankle boots with a three inch heel instead of her Mary Jane shoes. Thus, making it one hundred percent harder than it could be. If the two don’t hurry, she feels like she might give up. And if they turn up to talk about stupid things like girls, I’m going to have to kill someone.

This is why I need my latte!

By now, she’s contemplating whether her legs will go numb after a while, or whether she’d be better off amputating them altogether. Just then the door swings open. The clomping footsteps on the tiles tells her the pair that enter are likely them, and the voices that speak confirm it.

“Jesus, I’m sick of having Mister Choi on a Tuesday-ing-morning!” The tall boy sighs dramatically as the plonk of bags hitting the floor sound around the bathroom. From below the bathroom stall, Boyoung spots the shuffling of feet across the floor.

“Just threaten him—one small glare makes a huge difference. He’ll leave you alone if he’s too scared to look at you without wetting himself.” Jeonghan’s voice responds, as the unbuckling of pants muffled through the room. Boyoung gags and places a hand over her eyes (despite the fact that she can’t actually see them)—oh the things she manages to get herself into.

The door opens again, and an intruder’s footsteps echo towards Boyoung’s direction. Making her panic for a mere second before the person enters the cubicle beside her. Jeonghan and his tall friend fall into a silence, no doubt waiting to continue their session once the intruder leaves.

After an excruciating—mainly for her legs—three and a half minutes, the invader leaves, and all is left is the ensuing stillness that makes Boyoung worried. Until she hears chuckling and the buckling of pants.

“Ah,” The deep voice—of the tall guy Boyoung’s yet to get a look at—speaks up. “You’ve got two more days till the next drop.” The girl’s eyebrows crease, they’re talking about Chunja’s next gift. “And he wants to know what we should do with this?”

There’s taciturnity as Boyoung tries her best to peek out the bathroom stall’s tiny slit; but, she can’t see anything and finds it extremely difficult to even keep her gaze in focus. “Who took this?” Jeonghan quips—and she can picture him lifting himself a top the counter to lazily look at the boy.

“Jisoo, apparently. He sent them to Hansol, who sent them to me,” The other boy brags. “She needs to control her hormones.”

Jeonghan concurs, “Such an embarrassment. And to think her mommy made the paper this morning for being nominated for a CFDA Fashion award.” And thus, Boyoung figures they’re still talking about Chunja. There’s only one girl in the whole entirety of their school who has a model for a step mother. As to what they’re looking at? Boyoung doesn’t know. Nor does she remember anything having to do with a picture of Chunja. Yet the fact that they’re discussing her—and have a presumably embarrassing photo of her—is enough to believe that Boyoung knows even less than what she had thought.

“Should we mail it to her father anonymously?” The deep voice asks indolently. Boyoung can practically picture the tall fellow leaning carelessly against the basin, most likely amused by the scandalous shot they have in their hands.

Jeonghan scoffs, “I don’t know—that would just be cruel. Who’d want to see their daughter like that?” Boyoung swallows hard. What has Chunja done that she garnered such negative attention? And why do these boys care so much?

“True.” The deep voice mutters.

Jeonghan sighs, “Just keep it up your sleeve—tell them not to spread it anymore. After all, she’s my crush remember?” The deep voice boy snorts as Jeonghan hops off the counter—his feet smacking loudly against the tiled floors.

“A crush who’s in a secret relationship with her friend, and doesn’t seem to care for our little gifts.” The boy points out. Boyoung blanches. So, Han Chunja is dating one of their friends? Not what I wanted to hear, the girl thinks to herself. The thought of Chunja possibly dating Jun, Soonyoung, Minghao, or Chan makes her uneasy. And the thought that she never knew—makes her want to puke.

Jeonghan’s quiet, and Boyoung finds herself holding her breath in anticipation for the boys’ reaction. “You’d think he’d have higher standards with the way he acts, right?” The deep voice boy only chuckles as the two wash their hands. “But still, it’s not time yet.”

“You really think this photo isn’t enough?” The boy asks as the faucet turns off. “Jesus, the girl really has it coming then. What the hell does he even want with her?”

Jeonghan sighs, “A whole lot of hell.” There’s muffling sounds from the tall boy drying his hands while the other keeps by the counter, and then a pair of sneakers smacking against the ground. Moments after, silence fell upon the boy’s bathroom. Yoon Jeonghan stands only a few feet away, likely, starring at his immaculate reflection in the well-lit mirrors.

Boyoung silently curses under her breath at the pain in her muscles. Begging her legs to hold on a little longer. Jeonghan finding her spying on his conversation would be the equivalent of death, and it would ruin everything.

The boy emits another lazy sigh before his footsteps ricochet, and from underneath the cubicle she can see the shadows of his muscular calves’ flash past.

Their conversation had given away more than Boyoung could have hoped for, providing her with insight into the fact that it’s more than just two people in this secret admirer plot, that Chunja’s in a relationship with one of their friends, and in the past (the past from before) Chunja went through a hell of a lot more than what she could’ve envisioned. Whatever’s going on, Boyoung knows for a fact, that Jeonghan is collecting pieces that will help him bring Chunja down.

After the door to the bathroom closes, Boyoung waits a few moments longer before releasing the tension in her legs and unlocking the cubicle. She curses some more as she regains full feeling, and shakes her ankles out. Making sure to rip the out-of-order sign off the door, Boyoung exits. Thankfully, things had gone to plan, and she hadn’t been busted. And yet, she still has more questions than she does answers.

With more progress (and a few setbacks) than what she could’ve hoped for, Boyoung grabs for her bulky smartphone (something she was dumbfounded to see on her desk in the morning) with a frown fixed on her lips. She won’t be seeing Chunja till lunch; but, she’s way too desperate for answers to wait another few hours.

Meet me in the library.

Just as she sent the text, Boyoung decides to send a necessary follow up.

By the way, I know you’re seeing someone. Stop trying to fool me. I’m not a child.

▰▰▰

The cramped toilet stall Boyoung had spent her early morning in, has been upgraded to a deserted aisle of the library for third period. Obeying Chunja’s instructions, she had avoided any detection from teachers and staff altogether by attending her first two classes, and then finding her way to plonk onto one of the many leather beanbags that cramp the third floor.

Her eyes wander over the titles of the books stacked along the mahogany bookshelves around her. She’s chosen to sit within the mystery section; which is fitting, considering all the digging she’s been doing lately. She pulls down the title nearest to her, and opens up to a capricious page.

Boyoung’s classes bored her all morning, and the people in them (aside from Minghao who slept) even more so. She isn’t close with any of them. Being the quietest in the class, she mainly goes unnoticed.

It was different before high school. When Boyoung and the group were still in grade school, Chunja and her were inseparable, and constantly talking or joking around together. Even in the most inappropriate moments. Whenever they had classes together (joint grade physical fitness, and when she took an upper level math class) the teachers were never able to shut them up, and when they were on their own: they were completely silent.

Chunja grew out of that when she entered high school without Boyoung. Branching out, and getting to know people, and joining clubs around the school (even becoming part of the swim team). Boyoung had taken the isolated approach. Which meant she stuck with the same friend group, and never brought herself to form relationships with any of her peers.

During this year of high school, Chunja wasn’t around lot. It made Boyoung unbearably lonely, and it causes her heart to lurch to think about the girl’s unfitting absences. While Boyoung had the others: she wanted Chunja there with her. Now it makes sense…well, more sense. Chunja’s in a relationship, according to Jeonghan. With one of their friends or one of her new friends. The friends she had made while she separated herself from the group.

When Boyoung thinks about it now, she believes it’s inevitable. At some point, the six of them would’ve grown up. They would’ve gone to different colleges and interacted with the different people in their degree program instead of with one another. Before any of them would notice, they’d all have different friends surrounding them and the only time the six would be with one another, is if and when they’d have reunions or when they’d go back home for the holidays. It’s saddening; but, that’s life. And it’s a hell of a lot better than what the future reality is.

Boyoung pursers her lips when a shadow creeps over the pages of the novel in her hand. Sighing, she pushes it shut and places it back in its position on the shelf. “Morning.”

Chunja doesn’t reply as she lowers herself onto the bean bag beside her. She looks tense, and that alerts Boyoung as she raises her gaze to look at the blonde girl. “I’ve drawn suspicion,” She mutters as her head tilts to side-eye Boyoung. “I was lucky to get away without the hall monitor chasing after me.”

“That’s a good thing, though, right?” The dark-haired girl asks.

Chunja frowns, “You realize I have more at stake here than you do, right?” As rules go, anyone caught outside of their designated buildings (except for in certain cases) are forbade from playing in any athletic sportsmanship activities—such as swim—for up to two weeks. Next week, is Chunja’s second competition of the year. If she gets caught, there’s no way she’ll be allowed to compete.

“So then let’s make this quick,” Boyoung proposition as she straightens herself up in the beanbag and leans her arms on her knees. in a breath, Chunja does the same. “You pretended to be interested in your secret admirer when in actuality you’ve been dating someone behind my back—a friend of yours, supposedly; but, who? And why would you lie to me?”

The blonde shifts her hair over her shoulder as Boyoung watches her carefully. “I don’t even understand how you found out, we only started seeing each other a few days ago,” Boyoung gulps as she tries not to lose eye contact with Chunja. It’d be bad to tell her that she eavesdropped on a conversation in the boy’s bathroom from two boys who may or may not be plotting something behind closed doors. “I’m not pretending to be interested in my secret admirer—I am interested—and I never lied to you. It’s not like you’ve asked if I’m dating someone…”

Boyoung scoffs, “I shouldn’t have to, if we’re such good friends, you should want to tell me.” Chunja gapes back at the brown haired girl who lazily rolls her eyes and lounges back in the beanbag chair. Just like Soonyoung, Chunja’s beginning to notice a prominent change in Boyoung. Because Boyoung, the one she’s known since she was a kid, is not bold enough to talk back to her.

“I know; but, I was waiting. I mean, we’re all close, and I don’t want to put pressure on the relationship—neither does he—and so I felt obligated to keep it a secret and act normal around everyone.” The blonde points out as she crosses her arms over her chest.

Boyoung snorts, “And yet, at the same time, you’re wanting to ‘investigate’ your secret admirer,” The brown haired girl huffs one last time as she shoots to her feet—Chunja following in suit. “Does he know about all of it? Is that why you wanted me to keep it a secret from the guys?” Now, Boyoung knows that Chunja has absolutely no clue who her secret admirer is—nor does she figure it out in the future; but, she can’t help but feel somewhat betrayed by the girl.

Their relationship was built on the foundation of never keeping secrets. They made promises that no matter how stupid, how crazy, or how angering the secret could make a person: they’d tell one another. Even if Chunja wanted to act normal for the sake of the group; Boyoung deserved to know.

Chunja gapes back at Boyoung, “You’re blowing this way out of proportion!”

“Am I? Because I’m pretty god-damn-sure that you’re the one that’s trying to justify your situation when all I want you to do is own up and tell me the truth!” Boyoung announces in the calmest voice she can muster; but, her facial expressions of a fierce scowl, give away her profound rage.

Chunja rakes a hand through her blonde locks as her foot taps bleakly against the carpeted floors. “What do you want me to say?” The girl snaps as her shoulders sulk. “I’m sorry, Bo! I did what I thought was best—maybe it doesn’t seem that way to you; but, you’re also way out of line.” Boyoung sneers as she turns her head to the side and twists her face into one of frustration.

“If you want the truth, fine, you can have it!” Chunja approaches Boyoung. Her fingers latching onto the collar of the younger’s shirt, gripping it tightly. “But I swear, if you tell anyone, I will never forgive you.” Boyoung winces as Chunja glowers at her; before, letting her go and taking a step back again. With a curled lip, Chunja answers the question plaguing Boyoung’s mind.

“It’s Jun, stupid.”