Boyoung sits on the leather couch located in her families living room. A red and orange, tribal knitted blanket is wrapped around her body, with a steaming mug of green tea placed between her fingers. A worried (and earnestly baffled) Chan sits on the coffee table in front of her—watching her. Standing by the kitchen island (behind her) is her mother and Soonyoung. They lean over the counter tops, and stare wistfully at the back of the girl who meekly shivers.

“Why was she there in the first place?” Her mother’s voice booms through the silent room. Bouncing off the walls and flushing her in the face repeatedly. “You know the railroad tracks are dangerous, Soonyoung! They shouldn’t have been there!”

The boy drops his gaze from the somber woman to the frazzled girl on the couch. “I didn’t know that’s where they were headed, not until Chan called me—it’s no excuse Misses Oh. If I had known, I would’ve stopped them ahead of time.” Boyoung’s mother huffs vociferously as she twists her sight to focus in on Soonyoung. Whose head plunges toward his chest in apprehension, and whose eyes avoid her own.

“Explain what happened, once more.” The woman asks as her fingers clatter against the counter.

Soonyoung clears his throats, “Chan said they were walking down the tracks: talking and laughing when she abruptly began to freak out. I believe it might’ve been a panic attack.” And yet, something continues to claw at the back of his mind, telling him it’s more than just a panic attack. He knows her, he knows that type of stuff doesn’t happen to her. Even though she’s changed, she couldn’t have changed this much.

Seemingly, Boyoung’s mother buys it as she trots around the island to stand behind the couch—her arms coming to wrap around Boyoung’s shoulders stealthily. “Why don’t you head upstairs to rest, sweetie? We’ll talk in the morning.” Boyoung obeys her mother like a mindless fool. Dropping the blanket, and placing the full cup of tea on the table, she stumbles along the hardwood flooring before trekking up the stairs. Away from those that stare at her in concern and discomfort.

“I trust you’ll watch over her tomorrow at school?” Soonyoung nods his head hurriedly at the older woman’s words. Just before she grabs her glass of red wine, and disappears into the master bedroom just off the corner of the kitchen. Leaving Soonyoung and Chan in quietness within the sizable murky feeling room.

Chan twists his gaze to look at Soonyoung, “I really don’t know what happened,” The boy pauses to rake a hand through his fuzzy hair and lean his head in his hands. “One minute she was fine, and the next minute she wasn’t,” Soonyoung moves around the kitchen counter to come sit on the table in front of Chan—a questionable look on his face. “I thought she was just joking at first; but, then she was crying and blood was coming out of her nose, it was nuts.” It must’ve been more than just crazy, Soonyoung thinks. It must’ve been scary for Chan. Chan who is almost never serious; rather, bright and calm. Yet here he is in front of him. His foot tapping wildly against the ground and his body quivering in thought. His face holding a grave undertone.

“I’m going to go check on her,” Soonyoung says as he sobers up his thought process and brings himself to stand up. “Here are my keys, head through the back door—I don’t want mom to wake up.” Patently, Chan nods his head as he snatches the keys from Soonyoung’s outstretched hand, and walks as fast as he can out of the house. He often talks about craziness; but, that doesn’t mean he wants to be near it.

His cousin, on the other hand, slicks back his hair and gets closer to it. Trekking up the stairs with an obvious nervous flow to his step. He’s not sure what awaits on the other side of the door; but, he’s near positive that it’s nothing good. Whatever happened, really turned her upside down and chilled both her and Chan to the bone. But Soonyoung has known that something has been off with her. And this just proves his suspicions more.

Boyoung rests on the edge of her bed; a pencil in one hand, a journal in the other. Her dark hair is messy and hangs just above her shoulders in loose waves. He can’t see her face; but, by the sound of low sniffling—she’s crying again.

His fingers latch onto the curve of her desk chair and ever so slowly he drags it around her bed to sit it in front of her. “You should be resting,” The boy quips as he stacks his legs up on the bed beside her. Though focusing on her journal (and the one word she wrote down), Boyoung side glances Soonyoung. The boy’s eyebrow props up in return. “Have something to say?”

The girl grudgingly looks away from her journal to stare up at him. She knows that what’s happened in the last twenty-four hours, hasn’t been good. She’s angered Chunja (and technically Jun too) snapped at Soonyoung, and freaked out Chan. All of them, she didn’t mean to have happen. Right now, Boyoung hasn’t exactly been great at controlling her emotions. Her emotions that seem to be growing rampant as the minute’s tick by.

“I’m—” The dark haired girl is cut off by Soonyoung.

The boy stands up and shoves his chair back into its spot at her desk. “Don’t apologize, I already know you’re sorry,” His dark locks fall in front of his face as he rummages through the mindless and silly objects on her desk. “Tell me what really happened back there, instead.”

Boyoung pales.

How is she supposed to explain that somehow, in some way, she managed to not only return to the past but also rewind time to stop his cousin (her friend) from dying? Soonyoung will only take that as her trying to make up a story to deviate from whatever she’s actually feeling. He’ll think that she’s trying to avoid the actuality of the conversation. The reality. Only this time she’s not.

“Just go home, Soonyoung,” She mutters; her journal and pencil falling to the floor as she lies down on the bed. Curling to one side, the girl tucks her head underneath her arm and away from his view. “I’m tired.” And truly, she is. But most of all, she just wants to be alone. That way she can leave her muddled mind in peace and possibly cry in her loneliness. Seeing as, no one knows what she’s going through, and she can’t tell anyone either.

▰▰▰

Boyoung’s chestnut table in the middle of the library, has books about time travel and the butterfly effect, stacked up high. Her fingers grace over pages and covers, as her hair hangs in a loose bun and her body slouches over the table in weariness. While her mind was initially focused on figuring out Jeonghan, and the past; something more important has come up. Time travel.

Her initial thought process about coming back was that it was fate, or destiny. That she was meant to come back. Only now, now she believes it’s something else entirely. That she can somehow control time. What happened with Chan is a factor in it; but, she can't exactly figure out how. Is it general relativity like wormholes? Or quantum physics like the many-worlds interpretation? Now that she’s back (and proved that things can change) is she experiencing the grandfather paradox? The theory of composability? Is she proving the butterfly effect? Or is she in a coma like what happens in the movies?

A low groan escapes Boyoung’s mouth as she leans back in her chair. Her eyes shut close as her hand runs down her face. Nothing’s making sense. She’s not sure what she should be doing. Figuring out how to fix the past, or how she got here in the first place?

“Black Holes, Wormholes, and Time Machines?”

Boyoung’s eyes snap open; Yoon Jeonghan stands in front of her with one of her books in his hands. He lets out a charming laugh, which trickles through the pores of her skin like fuming acid. “I didn’t take you for a science geek,” The lanky older boy takes the seat across from her as she straightens up in her own. “Surprise, surprise.” She knows Jeonghan is just trying to scare her...and it's mostly working.

Boyoung smiles—mimicking his warm expression—as if he had just shared a heart-warming complement. She places her hands on the table, and shifts the books away from his viewpoint, trying not to break eye contact with his murky eyes.

“That’s interesting.” Is all she says in return.

Jeonghan’s smile to one side as he toys with the book in front of him. His caramel hair hangs loose over his cashmere covered shoulders. His face is round and dimpled, a contrast to Jisoo behind him (sneaking through the book aisle’s as if she won’t spot him) which is sharp and high cheek-boned.

Something tells Boyoung that Jeonghan is testing her every movement. Is he deciding she’s someone to mess with? Or is he planning an attack early? Boyoung realizes how they treat people that get in their way. From now on, she has to watch her back at around every corner. She thought the library was one place the boy and his groupies didn’t go; but, she’s starting to think she was way off.

“Tell me, Boyoung, why has this piqued your interest?” Jeonghan casually leans back in his chair, flipping his hair over his shoulder, and crossing his legs at the ankle. Momentarily, her eyes sprinkle towards the books plastered over the table in every nook and cranny. Nothing comes to mind on what to say to him. And when the girl doesn’t respond but only keeps her eyes on the table, the boy leans forward. “Let me guess,” He offers with a cozy smile and narrowed eyes. “Experiment, in case something goes wrong?”

Boyoung lets out a childish bubble of giggles, “How silly!” Jeonghan’s eyebrow lifts up in question as the girl haphazardly shifts her hands to underneath the table—clenching them tightly from her fuming anger. “What do you take me for? A child? Puh-lease,” The boy’s eyes narrow as the girl crosses one leg over the other. “I don’t make mistakes.” Her face shifts downward into a sly smirk as the boy’s nose just barely flares.

“What’s her name?” Thuy asks as she comes to sit beside Jeonghan. Interrupting their conversation. “The girl who wrecked my skirt yesterday afternoon.” The dark haired beauty scrolls through her phone as if she doesn’t even care for the answer to her question—merely making conversation. Possibly to subtract from the added fuel of tension.

Jisoo slings himself into the backwards chair beside Boyoung with a short yawn and a puppy like pout, “Yuki Kojima, she’s a sophomore scholarship student from Japan.”

“Are you going to make her life a living hell?” Jeonghan asks, his hair curling around his face as he twitches to look at Thuy. Whom finally looks up from her phone, to stare back at the older boy with a shimmering smile. Jeonghan his head to the side, “You’re very predictable.”

Thuy laughs, “What would you do? You’re the creative one here.”

Boyoung glances between the two—whom she assumes to be on a tension filled basis. It’s easy to forget how much of a stalker Thuy is, when they act so casually together. Jeonghan’s not an idiot, Boyoung’s sure that he knows of the lurking tendencies. That may obviously lead to a strained relationship. Given the fact that Jeonghan isn’t interested in her.

“You need to give her something to lose if you want something to take.” He says, his body language oozing nonchalance and grace.

Jisoo snorts, “What does that even mean?”

“Doesn’t she already have plenty to lose?” Jeonghan offers. Boyoung twitches her gaze back toward him. He seems so laidback with the way he talks about the sophomore who might just get her life ruined. From a distance, she can see how he comes off as an angel to half the girls in the school. But up close—hearing their conversation—she sees his sneering side.

Thuy leans forward, “Let’s see,” She props her hands in front of her face to count off each reason. “Middle class parents, clearly can tell by her clothes. An unfortunate shade of dyed red hair. Socially awkward. Clearly desperate to impress me. And, most of all, a scholarship student. I say there’s ways to get her down.”

All over a school skirt, Boyoung thinks.

“What do you think, Boyoung?” Jeonghan asks, prompting the other two at the table to turn their attention toward her.

Boyoung gulps.

She hadn’t considered how she’d have to step on people to bring herself into a conversation with them. Needless to say, she didn’t think she’d be having a conversation with them any time soon. At least, not a civil one, and not in the library. But she has to remember, that in the long run, it may end up helping people like Yuki. Especially if she manages to tear down Saeran and whoever else is helping him hurt Chunja.

“Maybe, give her something to lose?” Boyoung mutters through clenched teeth.

Thuy’s eyes sparkle, making Boyoung think she’s passed with her answer. Meanwhile, Jeonghan continues to keep his narrowed eyes on her. “Boyoung gets it,” Thuy says, clasping her hands together. “Jisoo, darling, have my skirt dry cleaned and tailored for Yuki Kojima. Maybe we should invite her to the party next weekend.”

“Perfect,” Jeonghan quips, as he smiles at Boyoung. “I love it when we have a newbie.”

▰▰▰

Minghao frowns deeply the minute Boyoung takes her seat beside him at table. Her bag full of books drop to the floor as she settles her head a top her arms on the counter top. “Where were you during lunch? One minute you were there. The next minute...” He mutters as the girl grudgingly takes out her supplies to place them on the desk in front of her.

“Missed you too.” She mumbles as she glances up at the board.

Finding the integrals on the board beginning to blend together into an intricate pattern that she doesn’t understand, or even care to understand. Her mind is screwy from her earlier conversation; especially at the act that she may have just contributed to the downfall of an innocent Japanese transfer student. “Are you sick again?”

“Possibly.” Boyoung lazily replies.

Minghao slouches to one side, and as he goes to reply—he’s promptly interrupted by the intrusion of a new figure. “Hi, Boyoung.” Says the chirper voice of Mina.

Boyoung has known Yoo Mina since freshman year through Jun, and occasionally exchanged small talk and sometimes helped each other with math homework. Apart from a few conversations here and there, the two didn’t speak much.

“Hey, Mina.” Boyoung says kindly as she side glances Minghao who furrows his eyebrows in her direction.

The girl pulls up a chair and passively places her hands on the table, “I, um, I heard about you and Jeonghan. I just want to say,” The girl pauses to giddily squeal and tap her feet obnoxiously. “It’s so cool how you got invited into their group!” Mina is a bubbly and bright girl. She makes no attempt to keep her voice quiet when she gushes to her friends her love for Wonwoo. This is no different.

Minghao’s eyes widen as Boyoung fiddles with her thumbs. “Oh, thanks.”

“You seem to get along great with the group, like with Thuy and Jisoo!” The dark haired girl notices how her friend begins clenching his jaw and narrowing his eyes at her. “I was wondering how it started?” Boyoung is startled when Mina leans forward and bats her eyelashes at her.

Taking a breath, she struggles to conjure up an answer. “We, uh, I mean—I, just started talking to them and it went from there…” Once again, she glances at Minghao. Finding him shaking his head and crossing his arms over his chest.

“That is so sweet!” Mina giggles, letting out a love-struck sigh. “You know, I couldn’t believe it when I saw you sitting with them in the library at lunch today, you guys were so cool! And I know I already said it—but you look so good this year. I mean, you were never fat before; but, you’ve lost so much weight, how did you do it?”

The girl’s babble has Boyoung bombarded as her eyebrows clash together. Is Mina trying to be friends with me? She thinks to herself as her fingers tremble in her lap. She didn’t even think anyone saw them in the library. Which is stupid considering the following Jeonghan has. And the amount of people that drool over him.

“I…I went on an exercise program?” Boyoung mumbles in slight question.

Mina gasps, “Seriously? You should totally show me some time! I need to tone up my arms for prom, I have this gorgeous blue dress,” The honey haired girl pauses to clasp her hands together—her eyes shimmering. “Hey, I know it’s early, but are you and Jeonghan going to prom together?”

“What?” Minghao interjects in bright shock.

Boyoung cringes, prom for the juniors are at the end of the year before senior prom, and she hopes she’s not here for that long. Considering what’s about to happen in a few weeks if she doesn’t get her things together. “I, don’t know?”

“You could totally rival Thuy for queen you know,” The girl quips with a bright smile. “Especially if you’re dating Jeonghan. I mean, I personally know he’ll be king. Saeran will probably be expelled by the time prom comes around.”

Boyoung perks up, “Why do you say that?” She never tracked what happened to Saeran after everything happened. She got away as quick as possible, and didn’t look back to see what happened with the others. And if she didn’t look out for her friends, she wouldn’t do it for him either. But the mere thought of him being expelled, interest her.

“You know, he barely goes to his lessons anymore,” Mina quickly changes topics as she grabs Boyoung’s trembling hands and clasps them in her own. “Hey, have you ever spoken to Wonwoo before? I saw him with Jisoo and Jeonghan towards the end of lunch, and was wondering if he made the basketball team again. I made the cheer squad so I’m just making sure he’ll be in again after his knee last year…”

Basketball?

Wonwoo played on the basketball team before? With Jeonghan and Mingyu? Then, is it possible he’s part of the group with Saeran? And Thuy says that he used to be friends with them too. She knew it had to be between him and Jihoon; but, now Wonwoo is making more sense. Especially knowing that the boy often taunts her with everything about Saeran. Besides, as far as she knows, Jihoon is an art student—a peaceful art student with no friends. Wonwoo is the best bet.

“I honestly don’t know; but, I’ll ask him for you.” Boyoung replies.

Mina’s smile lights up, “Thanks, Boyoung!”

The honey haired girl disappears to her seat somewhere in the front of the classroom as Boyoung leans back in her seat. Only to be intruded—once more—by Minghao’s incensed gaze. “Since when are you friends with Jeonghan, and Wonwoo?” Boyoung gulps down her nervousness as she turns her gaze toward him again.

“I’m not,” The girl begins. “it’s re-con.”

▰▰▰

Minghao follows after Boyoung religiously. Every corner she turns, he turns. Every time she jogs, he jogs. Every time she stops, he stops. Until he’s starring directly into her glaring face. “Why are you following me?” She snaps as her arms cross over her chest. Minghao in his bottom lip as he teeters on his feet.

“I’m making sure you don’t do something stupid.” The boy responds.

Boyoung huffs as she turns on her heel and begins walking again (this time in step with Minghao). She continues to sigh in frustration, it’s probably because she hasn’t had enough coffee this morning, and ate too much of her food while in the library. She can’t afford to slip back up a clothing size again, especially when she’s completely aware of how hard things will be in the next few weeks and how much she’ll eat to deal with the stress. Her stomach looks bloated and pudgy—bringing a wave of insecurity with it.

“Look,” The girl mutters as the two come to a complete stop in front of the red gym doors. “Don’t do anything reckless.” Is her sentiment piece of advice before she opens the gym doors and invites him to follow her inside.

In the middle of the shiny hardwood floored gym, stands two boys in basketball shorts shooting baskets and casually talking between shots. Boyoung’s heels click against the floors as she trots her way to them—Minghao close by; but, a little ways behind her. She knows the two know she’s there; but, they refuse to look in her general area. Instead focusing on one another and the basketball in one’s hands.

“So, you really are on the basketball team.” Boyoung quips as she arrives in front of Wonwoo.

The dark haired boy fixes his crooked glasses and sends a tentative look towards Saeran who casually nods his head for him to answer. Wonwoo turns his gaze back toward Boyoung, and lets a carefree smirk filter onto his lips. “What brings you here, Boyoung?” It sounds so slithery and unpleasant—the way the boy says her name. It makes her wish it wasn’t hers.

“To confirm.” She replies, injecting an extra dose of friendly in her voice.

Saeran steps forward. Blocking Wonwoo from her flagrant view. “Confirm what? What do you want?” His eyebrow lifts up, and Boyoung feels an overwhelming need to run away as fast as possible. The mere sight of the older boy makes her cringe with dread. She knows he’s the man behind all of this; but, she still doesn’t know why. And right now, she beginning to doubt she ever will be able to figure it out. Especially with the ways that things are going.

“Why don’t you ask Jeonghan,” Boyoung smirks, “And Mingyu too.”

Saeran’s upper lip curls as he takes an intimidating step toward her. “What the is that supposed to mean?” He reaches out—trying to grab at the bulk of her shoulder. Before he can, Minghao grabs at her waist and pulls her backwards a little.

“Why don’t you back off?” Minghao snaps as he pushes himself to stand in front of Boyoung.

The girl laments.

She told Minghao to stay out of this, and not do anything reckless. Yet, here he goes. Assuming his well-known title of a fighter with fists, not with words. “Keep out of this, Xu.” That one sentence, seems to send Minghao into a frenzy. With one take in of breath, he smacks his knuckles into the side of Saeran’s face. Scraping his fist against the older boy’s cheek and the side of his nose.

“Make me, Ahn.” Minghao spits out; only mere seconds before the furry filled Saeran is knocking his fists into Minghao’s face. At one point Minghao knocks into Boyoung, causing her to fall to the floor. And Saeran snaps his elbow back to hit flush against Wonwoo’s chest—sending him backward. Sounds of cracking and splattering, ricochet off the walls of the room to surround them. Boyoung can only watch as she tries to pick herself up and eventually make them stop. Only every time she gets up, she’s promptly pushed back down by one of the two. Wonwoo—on the other hand—tracks his lazy self to the bleachers where he relaxes.

Pain explodes against the side of Minghao’s head and he staggers back, seeing stars; blood seeps out of his nose after Saeran struck his palm upwards at the base. Hopelessness fills Boyoung’s body as she watches Minghao hit the floor—blood leaking from his nostrils. His hazel eyes roll to the back of his head as his breath thins.

“Minghao?” Boyoung calls out as she flies to his side and leans over his body.

Saeran kicks at his shoe in apprehension, and when Minghao lets out a low groan—the boy smiles shamelessly. His gaze shifts from the blooded and bruised face of Minghao, to the concern girl gripping at his upper arm. “Catch you later, gisei.”

Boyoung watches the shiny near-white hair of Saeran dissipate out the gym door, Wonwoo scurrying forward to follow after him. Defeatedly, the girl falls onto the floor with an oomph. Beside her, Minghao groans out and coughs up small amounts of blood. “I’m going to kill him one day.” The boy mutters between sputtering coughs as he slowly pulls himself to sit with his chest set against his knees.

“I told you not to be reckless.” The girl spits as she crosses her arms over her chest.

Minghao slide glances her, “I can’t help it.”

“No kidding.” Boyoung gestures at his face and his shirt soaked with blood.

The boy picks himself up, and spits out a wad of saliva and gunk before he turns toward her. Boyoung, herself, stands up to stand before him with a lifted brow in question. “Are you finally going to tell me why you’re involved with those people?” He makes it sound like they’re so bad. Saeran, Jeonghan, and Wonwoo; but, he doesn’t know the half of it. And the fact he dislikes Saeran to the point that he’ll fight him: makes no sense. Because he believes him in the end.

“Just trust me,” The girl sighs as she reaches down and grips at his hand—squeezing tightly and showing that she means well. “I’m doing this for the greater good. If I don’t, a lot of people are going to suffer.” Minghao’s eyebrows clash together as he stares back at her in both worry and bewilderment. The girl grabs his arm and pulls him slowly along with him, “Come on, let’s get you to the nurse’s office.”

Minghao snorts, “I’m fine, it only looks bad.”

“Right, okay, and I’m a supermodel, let’s go.”