Peaches and Petals

 

—

 

"I'm so nervous. I don't think I can do this," Minghao anxiously walks back and forth in front of you, rubbing his hands together with the tips of his fringe slightly damp from his sweat.

"Take a seat and relax. You won't be yelled at or anything, why are you panicking?" You pat the empty space beside you on the bench, telling him to sit down. Without noticing your gesture, he continues pacing until you grab his wrist and pull him to settle down next to you.

You look at him seriously, which never really happens in daily life because it'd be awkward to. The idea of staring into Minghao's soul, your only guy friend, wasn't really a pleasant one but you had to for this moment, this very important moment.

 

"Look, you either get in or you don't. Either way, it's not like you won't ever get accepted in your entire life. You can still play basketball with your friends anytime. Even though the chances are 50/50, I'm positive you made it. I've watched you play for how many years, like 4 years? You know I'm blunt, so I'm really telling the truth."

He lets out a heavy, long breath and his daze fixes on his shoes. "I don't want to have hope. If I have hope, then I'd expect. If I expect, then I'd get disappointed. I don't want to anticipate the announcement of me making the team, only to be disappointed when things don't go the way I hoped for. You understand, right?" He tilts his head to look at you, and you can't help but stare at him back with sorrowful eyes. He's right. You keep telling him to believe in himself, but he's been so unconfident all these years because he doesn't want to be dissatisfied or unhappy with reality.

You place your hand on his lean back and give him a few pats, secretly cringing from this front you're putting up in order to comfort him. "Yeah, I understand. I think the best both of us can do right now is to wait until we hear the results and then act upon the outcome. There's no use in dreading it when you don't even know the final decisions yet."

"I guess so...," he leans back onto the bench and rubs his eyes.

"You should be listening to me. When have I ever been this useful of a friend?" You lean back as well and look at him from the corner of your eye with a playful smile.

"Yeah, you reminded me. Why are you so nice to me today? Usually you'd just hit me for 'having no balls'," he looks at you back and chuckles a little after you smack him on his arm, remembering to giving him his daily beating.

"You looked too pitiful, I couldn't help but give some advices. I mean, sure we have a love-hate friendship but that doesn't mean I want you to piss your pants before my eyes," you say in a joking manner and stand up, getting ready to go back inside the school building.

He jumps up after you and strikes back. "Hey! That was once, okay? We were in middle school and I just got scared that one time. Stop bringing that up every time." His pace fastens and he walks with his arm touching your shoulder.

"You should've been potty trained by then. What kind of 13-year-old still pees in his pants when he gets frightened?" You fold your arms and stop in front of a door that leads to the back of the school, where no one is really around.

 

He stops behind you and looks down at you, "what are you waiting for?"

You glare back up at him, "well, if you want to prove to me that you do have balls, then open the door. Don't you know that the man has to open the door for the lady? You need to learn how to be a gentlemen. I'll teach you, $10 per hour."

"My ...," he just scoffs and pulls the door wide open, giving you a small smile as you enter the building.

 

—

 

A beep is heard through the classroom and an announcement for Minghao to head to the basketball meeting room is made. He slowly stands up from his seat across the room and awkwardly walks to the door. Now that he's gone, you essentially worry for him. You know how important basketball is to him, as well as how cornered he must feel making his way to the room of truth.

As you stare out of the window, you see him nearing your seat from outside on the sidewalk. He notices and gives you a soft smile, even though you can still tell he's sweating bullets. You throw him a thumbs up and mouth a "fighting!". He clenches his fist in the air as he strolls past the window and the wall soon blocks him from your sight.

 

—

 

It's been awhile since he left to find out the results, yet he's still not back. How long would it take to just get a piece of paper and receive either a "congratulations" or "I'm sorry"?

 

The bell rings which alarms that the school day is over, so the teacher dismisses the class and the students begin to pack up. You turn to the side of the desk that's near the window and stuff your supplies into your bag. You don't notice that Minghao's been standing there since you're leaning over your chair to reach the backpack on the floor, so he squats down to your level and slams a piece of paper against the window, causing you to jump. You abruptly lift your head up out of irritation, but after reading what's on the paper you take a look at the smiling Minghao behind it and widen your eyes. "Come in here, now!" You mouth while pointing your index finger downward, gesturing for him to rush inside.

You place your book bag on your desk and wait for him. He runs into the room while panting heavily after stopping in front of you, and you snatch the piece of paper from his fingers.

"Congratulations, Xu Minghao! You've made it into the varsity basketball team."

After reading the first line, you got a gist of what the whole paper would be about. You look up at his eyes; there's a thin layer of glaze that seems to make his crescent eyes sparkle. You both stare in silent disbelief before jumping and shouting random noises while holding hands.

"Oh my god!" You try to say something else but you can't. It's not like you're the one who got accepted, but you feel so happy for him it's as if you did.

"I know! I-I can't believe it either!" His grip on your fingers tighten, which knocks you back into your old self.

"You know you looked so feminine squealing around like that but I'm not going to say anything because you deserve your moment," you put on a joking face after saying the end of your statement.

He gives you an annoyed expression, but continues to grin afterwards. "Look! They're even having a welcome dinner! I feel like I've been adopted into another family and have started a new life," he closes his eyes and dramatically acts as if he's been cleansed from his sins.

"Oh, shut up," you slap him on his arm for the second time today. "See? What did I say? I told you you'd get accepted. I hate to admit this, but you got skills, no lie." An airy laugh slips out and you swing your bag over your shoulder. "Go pack up, everyone left already."

 

—

 

You walk out of the school and converse with him as you both head to the bus stop.

 

"There's that welcome dinner tomorrow, do you want to come? They said I can bring someone with me."

"Why me? You have many other guy friends who actually like basketball to take."

"Well, you're never busy, so I know the only excuse you have is that you just don't want to go," he gazes down on you, waiting for your reaction. As he expected, you shoot laser beams back up at him.

"What's that suppose to mean? Just because I'm alone all the time doesn't mean I'm lonely."

"Well, are you coming?" His eyes are filled with anticipation, and it's funny because wasn't he the one who said that he hates anticipating things because he'd only end up disappointed? But you don't want him to meet disappointment, after getting accepted and all, so you agree with going to the dinner party with him.

"Great! It's at 6:30 PM tomorrow. Want me to come pick you up?" He turns around and slowly walks backward while facing you.

"Uh, sure, I guess. Is there anything I should be aware of beforehand?" You take out your earplugs from your pocket and untangle them as you speak.

"Don't dress so... tomboy-ish tomorrow. Try to put on a skirt or something, I think I'm supposed to dress formally too," he scans your outfit up and down before giving you a look of disapproval.

"Okay, for your information, I think my outfits are fine. But for you, tomorrow, I'll dress 'like a girl'," you roll your eyes and insert your earphones.

 

You and Minghao have to separate at the intersection, so you wave him a goodbye and he turns away after gently patting you on the arm.

 

Before the distance between you and him grow any further, you unplug one ear and call his name across the street. He puts on a puzzled expression before you shout a "congratulations!" while pumping your fists in the air. It's rare for you to be so cheerful towards him, but he deserves the nice side of you this time. It's not so hard to let your guards down for a day or two, and you didn't say anything supporting earlier either.

 

He gives you a bright, big smile before waving his hands in the air and eventually continuing home.

You actually didn't really want to agree since that means there'll be awkward moments with strangers, but you didn't want him to be unhappy— not today, at least. As a friend, you know this is probably the most you can do for him, but you just really hate socializing with people. A few friends are more than enough, but for Minghao, you convinced yourself to step out of your box this time. It's not like nightmares are going to come true or miracles are going to occur during the dinner, right?
 

 

—
 

You plop down onto your couch and reach for the remote control. Before you can switch channels, the doorbell rings and you groan as you get up to open the door. Your eyes look lifeless and you lean on the edge of the door with a slumped body. You see Minghao standing in a relaxed position in front of you, and your eyes slightly open in surprise.

"What are you doing here?" You ask as you straighten your stance and scan his whole appearance. All you notice is that his usual gray hair, that you told him to get rid of because it looks like a mushroom, is styled to the side, and how fitting his black dress shirt is. He has always looked a little too lanky for your preference, but the shirt compliments his upper body so damn well you can't help but think about how manly and hot he finally looks for once.

 

You let him inside, but your eyes can't stop staring at his back. It’s not that he's suddenly attractive— well, he kind of is, but that doesn't mean you're attracted to him in that way. He just looks good tonight, and hopefully tonight only.

"What do you mean? It's 5:40 PM and the dinner starts at 6:30 PM. Why do you still look," he points at your pajamas, "like that?"

Boom, mesmeric Minghao time is over. He just ruins every moment he gets; he's really a total idiot. Thank God it's over though, now you can get back to lounging around the house without his use-to-be handsome face bothering you.

"It takes 10 minutes to get there, meaning I have 40 minutes. Why are you rushing?" You retort as you roll over the backrest of the sofa and land on the seats, laying down and pressing in the numbers of your favorite channel. Minghao follows you into the living room and pulls your legs onto the ground so he can have room to sit.

"Don't you know how important this is to me? I even dressed formally, so you have to put effort too. Come on, don't be your usual self just for today," he pleas and pouts his lips without knowing it, because if he does know, he wouldn't be doing it and would be so humiliated by now.

 

His convincing is partially starting to get to you. He's done so many things for you, and because he's nice, you've been able to bully him all these years.

You on your tongue and sit up while facing him. "Fine, what do you want me to wear?"

"I know you don't like dresses, and I know your closet is basically from the men's section-," you slap him and he flinches, rubbing the stinging area and continues, "but a skirt would do fine. Or maybe just wear formal pieces, that'd look proper too."

You look at him with an expression that says "I am so done with you" and sigh. The distance between your faces is actually quite short, so you take the chance to flick him on his forehead, causing little hairs on his fringe to stick up. While you casually walk away and up the stairs, he follows you but whines about how long it took him to get his hair this "perfect".

"This took me 2 hours! I've never tried to fix up my hair and I finally got it looking so neat but you ruined it all!" He complains and stomps his way into your room, but you know he's too kind to blame you for long.

"Ugh, I'll fix it later for you. Just help me find what to wear. If I pick what I like, you'll probably disapprove anyway so just pick something from my closet." You shoo him away and play on your phone while laying messily on your bed.

He opens the door to your small walk-in closet, but stops to question, "usually, don't girls hate it when guys invade their privacy? You don't care if I just walk into your closet and touch your clothes?"

"It's not like I have anything to hide. Hurry up if you don't want to be late."

He turns on the light switch and walks in, starting to explore what a girl's closet would look like.

"He must've thought a girl's closet is like a whole new world," you murmur silently and laugh lowly because your closet is actually nothing special. But then you realize, you forgot about the basket underneath the clothes.

 

You jump off the bed and rush inside the closet. Minghao spreads each hanger apart to look at all your tops and bottoms, and you secretly thank the Lord that he hasn't noticed the things underneath the hanging clothes.

You walk up to him and tap him on the shoulder. "Can you leave for a bit?"

"Why?" He stops and looks at you, totally confused because you were the one who told him to enter. You try your best to avoid eye contact. It's going to be so embarrassing to tell a guy to leave your closet because you don't want him to see your and bras, so you don't want to explain anything.

"Just leave, I have to take care of something."

He turns around to face you and leans on the corners of your hangers with his arms folded. "Oh, so you do have something to hide."

"I wasn't hiding anything, but I do need to hide something now. So can you get out while I'm being nice?" You push him on his waist towards the door, but his back brushes against the clothes and a shirt falls into the basket— into the goddamn basket of your undergarments. You scrunch your face in defeat and curl your fingers into fists. He turns around to pick up the shirt and no doubt, he saw your bra and probably every piece of fabric in there. You hear an airy chuckle from him and he stands back up in front of you.

"Is that what you've been trying to hide?" A cheeky smile creeps up on his face, and you let out a deep breath. How are you suppose to respond?

"Get out," you order in an annoyed tone because you're already busted. You push his back through the door and close it.

 

It's pretty hard to try to hide such clothing from a closet, and there's really no way to hide them either. So without thinking much, you just cover the basket with a towel over it, which looks kind of weird because all the other baskets are open except this one. But who cares, he already saw everything so let's just prevent him from seeing it again.

You open the door for him to come back in, and he starts to search for an outfit again. You take his silence as he understands the situation, but then he starts to crack up and you smack him on his lower back.

"Don't you dare think of weird things." You give him a death glare and he looks at you with an innocent face.

 

"What do you mean? What would I even be thinking of?"

You can tell he's purposely teasing you and you stare blankly at nowhere, trying to think of what to say back as he laughs at your reaction.

"Just hurry up."

"Whatever you say."

 

—

 

You walk out of the bathroom to show him how the clothes he chose look on you. You stand like a doll on display while pulling down the hem of your black skirt, which makes you feel even more awkward than you already are. He chose a white long-sleeved blouse with black lining on the edges and a Peter Pan collar. He paired it with a plain black skater skirt, which is probably the only skirt he found since you really don't have many feminine clothes. Everything is uni and black and white.

His eyes scan you up and down and you feel so... violated because all of this is new to you, and because he seems kind of like a . It's weird to have a guy scrutinizing your outfit and judging how well it looks on your body.

 

"It looks nice," he says with a blank tone and eyes still on your clothes.

That's it? This is the first time he's ever seen you dress this way ever since you've known each other, and he thinks it's just nice?

He finally lifts his eyes and looks into yours, "you look nice."

The corners of his lips pull up a teeny tiny bit and he lets out a long breath, "by the way, you're welcome." He puts on a smug face and you fake a sarcastic smile. See, he always ruins the moment. Every time you see him in a different light, it's like he doesn't want you to so he comes back with something that spoils your positive thoughts.

"You know, it took me forever to find those clothes because they were all the way in the back," he crosses his legs on your bed and sits like a little child.

"That's because these clothes are new. I never wore them and they still have tags on." You walk closer to the nightstand beside your bed to get a pair of scissors.

"You look like a girl today though. Shouldn't you be thanking me?" He waits for your reply with a proud grin on his face.

You stop cutting the tags and look down at him now that your distance isn't far apart anymore.

 

"You know I have a pair of scissors in my hand, right?"

He scoffs confidently as you finish cutting the tags and walk closer to him. You hold him still by his shoulders and start to fix his hair. His head is between your hands and his face is lined up with your chest.

"Sit still if you don't want your hair to get messed up even more." He makes a weird shape with his lips out of annoyance. He hates it when you order him to do things because he knows himself that he's too nice to go against you.

You twist and twirl a few wild strands so they'd stay together and where you want them. They even add the wavy effect and his mushroom hair has more volume now.

"There, I fixed it. That's my thank you. Now I don't owe you anything," you say in an accomplished tone as you walk towards your dresser and he follows you to check his hair in the mirror. You spray some of your favorite perfume on your neck and wrists.

 

While closing the cap of the bottle, he leans in near your neck and starts to sniff the fragrance. You freeze right on the spot out of shock, but also to prevent him from being any closer. His position through the mirror already looks so wrong, but the heat you feel from his breathing against your skin is even more wrong.

He leans back and nods his head, "it smells nice."

Although it was only for a few seconds, your heart still can't stop beating. The thumping inside your chest makes it hard for you to hear anything he says.

"You smell nice," he gives you that gentle, slight eye smile again and you just want to punch him in the face. Is he messing with you on purpose?

You flash him a deadly glare with furrowed eyebrows and walk right past him through your bedroom door. You notice the time on your phone and rush to look for a pair of shoes that would match with this attire. All you have are sneakers, basically, so you pick your all black Converse high tops. As soon as Minghao reaches downstairs, he tries to convince you to wear something else.

"You've already dressed up so much, why not go all out?" He looks at your shoes scattered on the floor, probably astonished by the many pairs of shoes you have even though they all look the same style.

"Because I've already dressed up so much, you should cut me some slack and let me wear flat shoes instead. Besides, I don't have any heels, and even if I did I wouldn't wear them." You continue to tie your sneakers while sitting on the floor, still uncomfortable because you can't do anything without being cautious of the skirt riding up your thighs.

"I like those ones," he points at another pair that is in the same exact style as the one you're wearing, except that one gives you an inch in height.

"Wear the ones with a platform on the bottom, you're too short," he picks up the shoes and hands them to you.

"I'm not short, you're just too tall compared to me. Lanky and fragile, just like a toothpick," you make fun of him and finish tying the pair he chose.

"So I'm a toothpick with no balls?" He puts out a hand and you take it while nodding as he pulls you up. He laughs out of disbelief at your jokes and heads to the door.

"Alright, we have to go now. I don't want to be late for such an important dinner," he opens the door and waits for you. You grab your wallet from the desk beside the stairs and walk through the already open door.

"Have you learned to be a gentleman, or is this a one-day thing?" You both start to walk through your neighborhood and you're glad that he didn't ask you to borrow your mom's heels or something because it'd be so painful to walk in them all evening.

"What do you mean? I've always been a gentleman. You know how kindhearted I am, even during all the times you were irking me," he says as he pulls you by the arm and steps past you so he'd be the one walking near the road.

"Hey, I know I'm mean but you've been able to deal with me quietly for years. Don't try to get yourself killed tonight," you say without any real emotions; you're just trying to kill time.

 

"I know, today's a day too special for me to die," he sighs, probably getting nervous about meeting his coach and teammates.

You give him a weird look and laugh while shaking your head. He has such dry humor. You never know when to laugh, but that makes everything even funnier so you end up laughing anyway.

 

—

 

You both walk onto the bus and look for seats after scanning your card. Many people are heading home at this time to have dinner with their families so there weren't any open seats. Minghao holds onto your hand and leads you to the back of the bus. There isn't any other choice besides the handles, so you both stand next to each other facing the window.

After the bus takes off and drives for a while, he realizes how uncomfortable you are. There are people standing behind both of you and the jerking and trembling of the bus is making you feel even more careful with the skirt. You rub your thighs together from time to time, hoping for the hem to go lower every time you feel too exposed.

He suddenly scoots behind you and stands there, grasping onto the bar above you instead of the handle. You can feel his body against your back, and the fact that he won't move makes the situation even more disturbing.

"What are you doing?" You whisper with your head turned to the side.

"You seem bothered by the skirt, so I'm covering your legs for you. Be grateful, I'm taking responsibility for making you wear clothes you don't like wearing," he tilts his head in front of you with a proud expression, thinking he finally proved to you that he's a true gentleman.

You scoff and turn back to facing the window, but a grin secretly grows on your face. You forget about the awkward setting and accidentally let your heart jump as much as it wants.

You continue to smile as you question in your mind, what more will happen tonight? He's being too much, you really can't stand him anymore. But as soon as you begin to fantasize about things you shouldn't fantasize, you worry if Minghao will leave you for his friends. You really loathe being stuck with strangers because you're pretty socially awkward. But will he really abandon you?

He knows you're only going for his stupid mushroom head, right?

 

—
 

 

Minghao speaks up after being remote for quite a long time, "anxiety is starting to hit me. I finally made the team I've been wanting to join for so many years, and in a few minutes, we're eating dinner together. I can't wait to get closer to everyone, but I'm afraid that I might mess up and give them a bad first impression of me," he squeaks in a tremulous voice.

 

"You won't. Even your face says 'I'm nice, talk to me!'. You're friendly to everyone, don't worry."

You reassure him about his worries and give him a pat on his shoulder. Now that you both are in front of the restaurant, reality seems real.

 

"I don't know what to expect," he sighs and starts to walk towards the entrance.

 

"Same here," you whisper to yourself and you both enter the restaurant. The moment you walk in, a waiter comes up and asks Minghao if he's made reservations. He tells her about the welcome dinner and she leads both of you to a private dining hall.

 

Taking a look inside, there are already many people seated. They all look towards your direction and the adults greet you both. The younger ones just stare, probably nervous as well. After you've been assigned to your seats, you sit down next to Minghao and try as hard as you can to avoid eye contact. All the students are either silent and on their phones or talking with other students. You look at Minghao and see that his eyes are wandering around everywhere as he rubs his thighs nervously. His body moves along with his arm movements, and he has a welcoming smile painted on his face.

 

As soon as everyone arrives, the varsity team's coach walks around the long table to each player and talks to them personally. He announces that he wants to get to know his team before they start playing together. As he's talking, you notice he tries to converse with the partner that each team member brought along. The edge of your forehead near your hairline forms small droplets of sweat as you panic about talking to the coach. Being forced to speak in class and trying to have a dialogue with other kids are already hard enough for you, but you absolutely feel so pressured when you have to talk to an adult. You've always been afraid that you'd say something wrong in front of them, so what if you embarrass yourself today? Actually, what if you become an embarrassment for Minghao?

 

While thinking to yourself, you didn't notice that you were spacing out with your daze on the white tablecloth. Your fingers were pinching each other and your had a bite between your lips.

 

"Hey, are you okay?" Minghao places his palm lightly on your shoulder and bends forward to look at your face.

 

You snap out of your trance and blink your eyes a few times. "Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm fine. I'm just thinking of useless things," you say as you shake your head, hopefully he'll just push you off his shoulder for the moment because it's his night and you would hate to be a burden.

 

"If you need anything, just tell me, okay?" He whispers with his face closer than before. His eyes are wide, but they aren't straining themselves to be open. The gentle look on his face makes you feel warm at the heart, but selfish in the head. He shouldn't be worried about you right now. He should be talking to his teammates and building friendships with everyone.

 

"Okay, but don't bother with me anymore. You should talk to the people next to you; you're going to have to be friends with your teammates sooner or later," you nod your head at the person to his left, telling him to make a new friend. "I don't mind if you talk to our table neighbors, but don't forget me. You made me tag along," you give him a slight smile instead of your usual glare, making sure you're passing the right message through. Of course, you want him to be a social butterfly tonight, but you don't want him to leave your side. As long as he sits next to you, you'll feel safe enough.

 

Minghao listens to you and turns to the other direction. You can hear his voice and his shy laugh, making you smile to yourself. A head on your right turns to face you, and you accidentally look straight into the guy's eyes. He smiles back at you, but your own fades away from anxiety. What to do? How should you react? He's not saying anything!

 

He turns to face the front, but his eyes stay in contact with yours. His orbs flicker with the lens of his glasses, adding a shine to the layer of glaze on his eyes. His chin is resting on his palm and his fingernails curl to touch his cheek delicately, making his image even more cute and playful. Is he possibly... flirting? Or is he just trying to be nice?

 

His head finally turns to the other direction and you're left sitting here in the same stance. Your heart rams against your ribcage and your breaths shorten. Your eyes wander around the room as you try to take longer, bigger gasps of air but it's as if your lungs closed up and no oxygen is circulating through your body. You can't process anything in your brain and you help yourself sit with your hands desperately gripping into the edge of the table as you begin to rush your breathing. You try to stay as silent as you can and hope that no one has noticed yet because you start to feel lightheaded and nauseous. You fear that you're going through an anxiety attack, but you try your best to convince yourself you aren't. Nothing like this should happen right now, not at this place and time.

 

You push yourself up with your palms pressed harshly against the table surface and you discreetly try to walk to the restroom. You notice from the corner of your eye that the guy sitting beside you glances at you as you stand up and turn the other way. Minghao, who's still talking to his seat mate, sees you pass him and grabs your wrist before you walk any farther.

 

"Where are you going?" He looks up, but his expression changes when he sees how sick you look.

 

"I'm going to the restroom," you brush his fingers from your wrist and walk away.

 

Your muscles are weak and your vision is blurred because your eyes keep on twitching from one side to another. Despite this horrible feeling, you still have to try to hide everything and continue through tonight. You've been selfish towards Minghao this whole day— well, ever since you've met him— but you have to do him a favor at least at this dinner. If he wants you to not act like your usual self this once, then you don't. It's usually hard to try to be so soft towards him, your favorite person to bully, but everything about tonight seemed to make it easier until now.

 

You rush into the restroom, trying to look as normal as possible on the outside. Luckily, no one is here because the coach is keeping everyone busy talking. You sit inside a stall and try to calm yourself down. There really isn't any reason to suddenly have an attack, unless that guy next to you really did trigger your insecure, anti-social side.

 

You take deep, steady breaths and try to keep a good focus on your surroundings. Soon enough, you can stand without wobbling from side to side and you walk to the sink. You wash away the sweat on your face with a few splashes of water, hoping it'll bring you back into the right dimension. Thank goodness you forgot to apply makeup or else you'd be looking like a panda.

 

You hurriedly fix your appearance and head back outside. There's no time to waste unless you want to embarrass Minghao for not being there through the whole dinner. You try your best to ignore the people looking at you as you walk back to your seat. As you sit down, the coach begins to give a speech to the team players.

 

"What took you so long?" Minghao asks while staring at the coach and pretends to be paying attention.

 

"I had to do girl stuff. That's all," you give him a shrug and he looks at you for a short second. As he turns away, a mischievous grin creeps up on his face and you glare back at him.

 

"What? If you're seriously thinking about that, then no. I'm not."

 

He continues to have that annoying look on his face but you give him the cold shoulder and divert your attention to the coach. You assume that he has already talked to everyone and you missed it, but Minghao doesn't seem to be bothered about it so you just let the pressure fade away.

 

After the coach is finished with speaking to his audience, he starts personal conversations with the people around him. Apparently, it's a tradition for them to eat pizza at this place for every year's welcome dinner, so you're all waiting for the food to come. Good thing you and Minghao aren't seated next to the coach because you really don't want to talk to anyone besides Minghao, especially after your anxiety hit you like a truck.

 

Everyone begins talking with their own friends while you're just sitting here and picking your nails. You decide to talk to Minghao, since he really is the only person you know. When you turn around to say something, his eyes are actually already on you, and he still has that playful smile painted on him.

 

"Are you seriously still thinking of that?" You narrow your eyes at him when he snorts. "Look, I'm not on my period. Clear?"

 

His eyes show that he's cracking up, but his twitching lips hold back his laughter and he nods vigorously. His focus switches to something behind you and you turn around, only to see that weird guy from before. His elbows rested on the table, his hands balled up in fists, and his thumbs between his lips. Although he's facing the front, his eyes were definitely on you and the curving of them gives you the suspicion that he heard you.

 

Humiliation flushes over your heated face and you spin your body to the front as well, trying to avoid any contact with the two laughing people beside you. Anger suddenly overcomes the embarrassment you felt because you hate being laughingstock. You hate being used as a joke just for a laugh. It kills your pride to just sit here and be laughed at. You abruptly face the stranger and give him a face.

 

"You. Mind your own business," you spit out in a harsh tone and turn to Minghao, "and you. Do you want to die?"

 

The jumpy heart you had earlier is completely gone, and your normal, even more short-tempered, personality returns. You don't want to seem rude to a stranger, but he didn't give you much respect either. Sure, he has killer looks, but his impression so far is such a turnoff. And with Minghao, it's natural for you to be mean towards him, but you never thought he'd make you feel this horrible, ever. He's supposed to be the perfect friend. Even though you may never say it, but he's been your friend for so long because he's a good one.

 

You slowly try to bring yourself together as Minghao finally speaks up. At the moment, you don't really care about the other guy. He's a stranger, so there's no need to talk to him again. What you said was what you meant, he should just stay on his side.

 

"Are you really mad? I didn't mean it that way...," Minghao leans forward and looks at your face. The red has faded, but the hasn't.

 

"Just don't talk about it. If you remind me, I'll get irritated again," you mumble with a low, small voice while trying to calm yourself down.

 

"Sorry, I didn't know that was a sensitive topic for you," he continues to keep eye contact with you, but you've been ignoring him until now.

 

"It's not that it was a sensitive topic, but I don't like unwanted attention. I hate how that idiot over there laughed at me, and you laughed with him. You know how I feel around new people, I didn't think you'd be inconsiderate of my disorder," you say without thinking much and then regret every word. You shouldn't have spoken about your disorder so easily. Imagine how bad he must feel now, when you're the one who’s been pushing his buttons.

 

"Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't intend to hurt you. You know I never take your anxiety as a joke. I didn't mean to make you feel embarrassed either. I'm really sorry," his hand reaches out and holds onto yours on your lap.

 

You feel so guilty for making him feel guilty. It's your fault for getting offended when it's not even a big deal, but he has to take the blame. As always, he's the more responsible one.

 

Usually, you'd brush it off. You've been struggling with saying "sorry", "thank you", and "I love you" ever since you were young. Hence, you don't want to tell him that it's your fault, but this time seems like the right time.

 

"No, it's– it's me," you break the contact from his hand and rub one side of your face, a gesture you usually do whenever you give in or give up. "Sorry, I was being a , wasn't I?"

 

It's pretty rare to hear those words coming from you, so Minghao's eyes widen a bit as his attention on your words increases.

 

"No, you weren't. You were acting the right way. It's not like you wake up every morning and enjoy having this disorder. If you don't speak up about how you truly feel, then no one will know when to stop. You did the right thing. I'm sorry."

 

He knows that you probably won't appreciate physical contact, so he tries to deliver his sincerity through his eyes. He's never broken eye contact ever since this conversation started. Instead of looking away, you look back at him to see how genuine he is. He's always been the type to think about the other's point of view, therefore, he's always arguing that he's the one who did wrong. Whenever this happens, he tries his best to clear things up. One of his good traits is that he's a peacemaker, he'll keep on explaining until the misunderstanding is no longer misunderstood. No matter how hard you try to convince him, he'll still be too nice to let you feel guilty.

 

You give him a deep, serious stare, hoping that maybe he'll understand your message through your eyes, although he won't listen to you.

 

"If you're okay now, then let's forget about it. There's no reason to hold onto useless misunderstandings," he looks at you with curved lips and bright eyes.

 

"Yeah," you keep eye contact with him, "let's do that," and slightly smile back at him.

 

Fights with Minghao never lasted long since he's always the one who will try to make up first. Of course, if the other person is obviously wrong, he'd tell them what they did wrong in the nicest way possible. But when he can find points that make him seem like the bad guy, he convinces himself that he really is the bad guy and apologizes. You like that trait about him, since it helped him tolerate you, but you hate how it's likely of him to get taken advantage of.

 

—

 

After awhile, the food arrived but everyone ate in silence because the coach just kept on talking. He was telling some memorable stories of when he was a basketball player during his high school years. He probably thought it was funny, but you didn't find it that amusing.

 

Just like how time passes, all the negative emotions you felt earlier are gone too. As you're eating the pizza, it actually even makes your mood bright because of course, it's pizza! For the past 30 minutes, it seemed as if the stranger beside you didn't even exist. Minghao whispered to you from time to time, talking about the food and such. He became his cheerful self again and told you random things about his new basketball team excitedly. You acted like you were listening, but even he knows you don’t care about his teammates.

 

The dinner slowly nears its end with the notice of how not many people are grabbing more slices. Minghao suddenly stands up and pushes his chair under the table. You grab onto his wrist, hoping he wouldn't leave.

 

"Where are you going?"

 

"It's okay, I'm just going to the bathroom." He places his hand on your shoulder, assuring you that he isn't going far.

 

"Come back fast,” you say in a softer tone than you imagined in your head.

 

"Alright," he chuckles, probably because the you right now is so dependent on him when usually he’s the one who follows you around.

 

You turn back comfortably on your seat and randomly remember about the dude on your right. You still feel kind of bad for going off at him. He probably didn’t mean any harm but it was you who got defensive so rashly. In case he’s one of Minghao’s teammates, you try to talk to him in order to end on a good note.

 

“Hey, about earlier,” you abruptly speak up and he turns to you with raised eyebrows and a surprised face, “I’m sorry. I assumed things and acted in a rude manner so I’m sorry about that.” Usually, apologizing is a difficult task for you to do, especially with people you are close with. But since he’s a stranger and you’re desperate for him to forget that ugly side of you, the words “I’m sorry” slipped through your lips like a soap-covered ring.

 

“Oh, don’t worry. You’re fine,” he waves his hand as if he’s brushing off the past. “The guy actually told me about you when you left. He said you're the shy type, so I shouldn't intimidate you. I didn't mean to listen to your conversation, but I thought it was cute. That's why I smiled.”

 

“Oh, really?” You reply awkwardly, not really knowing how to respond because that was quite unexpected.

 

“Yeah, so don’t worry about it. I understand,” he continues so coolly and chicly that you don’t even know how to react. It’s like he knows you don’t know what to say so he takes the lead and continues that it’s okay. Before you can think of a reply, Minghao comes back and takes a peek at the guy next to you.

 

“Did I interrupt something?” he says while pulling in the chair beneath him.

 

“No, we were just having a little talk,” you turn your body facing the front again after giving the guy a nod. He gets the signal that your conversation is over so he does the same.

 

“It seems like I ruined it though. Why don’t you guys continue?” His voice lowers at the end of his sentences and he starts to sound bitter, as though he actually did something wrong.

 

“The conservation wasn’t going anywhere and the dinner’s about to end anyway. We should just speed out here as fast as we can.”

 

Seeing how a few people are starting to stand up, you do the same. Minghao follows you and his coach begins to gather the attention to the front again. Everyone stands up to hear his last speech of the night. He continues on with his hopes and expectations of the team and then greets you all goodbye. After a short session of claps, the crowd chatters again and the sound of footsteps fill the room.

 

While approaching the door, you face the other person who sat next to you again. You both make eye contact, so it’s obvious you should say something. It’s totally unlike yourself, but you hold out your hand to shake his.

 

“What’s your name, by the way?” You ask awkwardly while trying to hold eye contact with him.

 

“Jeon Wonwoo,” he replies with a gentle smile and shakes your hand lightly.

 

“I’m really sorry about earlier but nonetheless, it was nice meeting you, Wonwoo.”

 

“You’re good, buddy. I understood the moment your friend explained to me. He seems to know you really well and I’ve noticed that he always looks at you with caring eyes. Are you guys dating?” He whispers the question to you and catches you by surprise. Well, that question's a shocker.

 

“No, we’re not,” your cheeks heat up and you chuckle in the most awkward way ever.

 

“Ah, I’m sorry. I just assumed you guys were from your interactions. I’m a pretty curious person, as you can tell,” he laughs off the weird situation but you find yourself wanting to be by Minghao’s side again. You feel uncomfortable in a strange way, which makes you question: are you uncomfortable because Wonwoo is a stranger, or because Wonwoo is not Minghao?

 

You soon say your farewells to Wonwoo and walk away to search for Minghao. He’s still with his coach, so you stand at the corner to wait. Watching him happily talk to his coach makes you smile to yourself. The boy has suffered a lot through the years, especially since he’s your friend and you’re his main source of sufferance. Seeing him so excited over something makes you happy for him because he’s rarely like this.

 

You suddenly go deep into your thoughts while staring blankly at him. Is this the type of look Wonwoo was talking about, where Minghao looks at you with caring eyes? Because it seems like you’re doing the same, but you’re just really lowkey about it.

 

—

 

“Let’s go get ice cream,” Minghao suggests as you both walk down a path surrounded by cherry blossom trees. Luckily, it’s blooming season. The trail is lit up by yellow pole lights with petals constantly falling right in front of your footsteps.

 

“Why?” You question while looking down at the flowers you step on. “You can’t eat cold food.”

 

"I'm trying to make up for my actions earlier,” he says and angles his head down to look at you from above.

 

"Weren't you the one who said to forget about it?" You look back at him, your shoulder still touching his upper arm.

 

“Yeah, but I know you like ice cream so this is also a way of saying thank you for today,” he turns his head to face the front again and slips his hands into the pockets of his black jeans.

 

“Well, if you insist. Let’s walk faster.” You grab a hold of his right elbow and drag him to speed walk with you. You hear his usual airy chuckle and you start to smile. Something about his laughs and grins make you do the same. It’s like his happiness is contagious.

 

“We should have a power walking race,” you stop in your tracks and suggest out of the blue.

 

“Are you sure you’ll be able to beat me? I have long legs,” he gives you a mischievous smirk and shows off his lower limbs.

 

“Psh, how do you think I get to class in time when I’m always lazy-ing around? Get ready, Xu Minghao. I’m a competitive person,” you state in the sharpest, clearest tone you can voice out and get in position.

 

“So am I, midget,” he follows you suit and fixes his posture as well. You both stand above layers of petals, ready to dash through the path at any second.

 

“Ready, set, go!” You shout and start walking as fast as you can.

 

Because your short legs can take faster steps, you’re ahead during the start. But soon, Minghao catches up with his wide steps. You both clench your fists beside your bodies and angle your heads straight forward. As he passes you, you see a smile creeping from his tightened jaw and shut eyes. What a kid.

 

He begins taking the lead and you continue to put all your strength in your legs, but there’s no finish line so it seems like you’d have to go all the way to the end of the trail. By that time, your legs would probably have fallen off already so before Minghao could get any farther, you jump onto his back that’s in front of you. His locked knees bend from your weight and his hands immediately wrap underneath your thighs.

 

“Hey, what are you doing?! That’s cheating!” He slows down to normal walking speed and turns his head to the side, trying to make eye contact from the corner of his eye.

 

“I’m not cheating. It’s a tie. I forgot I’m in a skirt,” you lie as you poke his cheek for him to face forward.

 

“Excuses, excuses,” he shakes his head and then turns to the side again. “You’re wearing shorts underneath; don’t act like the skirt was holding you back.”

 

“Wha- How’d you know?” You hold onto his shoulders and turn your head so you both can look at each other face-to-face. You lock your gaze with his to show him that you're seriously confused.

 

He blinks twice and then diverts his attention to the front. “You’re on me,” he says in a small voice and then bounces up so you stay on his waist better.

 

Not knowing what to say, you pinch and pull his cheeks and then squish them together. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, ball-less boy?” You whisper close into his ear as he whines for you to stop messing with his face.

 

“Owwww, that hurts!” He complains, but doesn’t do anything to stop you.

 

“That’s what you get for being a erted idiot, doofus,” you fuss at him.

 

You stop pinching his cheeks and place your hands on his shoulders again. You wiggle your legs for him to drop you. With your hands still on his shoulders, you bring up your knee right into his bottom.

 

“Ah, did you just knee my ?!” His hand reaches to cover his immediately after the blow and he turns around. You stick out your tongue and raise your eyebrows to mock him. Before he could say anything or take action, you dash past him towards the intersection.

 

“Hey, don’t try to run away!” He sprints from his spot to chase after you.

 

“We need to get the ice cream!” You shout back as you continue to run all the way to the end of the path.

 

“Wait for me!”

 

—

 

“Why’d you get strawberry?” He asks while handing you a napkin. You eat the ice cream he bought as you both make your way home. You’re walking in a remote street again; there’s only the sounds of crickets and your feet above some tiny pebbles on the ground.

 

“Why not?” You ask as you eat another spoonful of ice cream.

 

“I thought you didn’t like the taste of artificial strawberry flavor.”

 

“Yeah, but this is ice cream. Every ice cream flavor is good,” you murmur, your mouth filled with melting ice cream.

 

“Really? Can I try it?” He leans his head in closer to yours and looks inside your cup.

 

“You can’t. You’ll get a stomach ache,” you shake your head and pull the cup away from him.

 

“I haven’t had a single bite of ice cream in years. Let me try this once,” he pleas and reaches for the spoon. You try to block his hands from making contact with your precious ice cream, but he eventually grabs a hold of the cup and then steals the spoon.

 

“Fine. Just one bite! And you can’t blame me if you get sick.” You give in and let go of the cup. He puts a small bit of ice cream into his mouth and let his tastebuds go to work. Almost right away, his widened eyes light up and he smiles.

 

“Wow, it’s so good!” He continues to rub his tongue against the roof of his mouth to get more taste.

 

“I know, right,” you say in a sarcastic, excited tone only for your face to drop right after, “now give it back.”

 

“Alright, alright, Miss Stingy Pants,” he hands you back the cup and receives death glares from you. You vigorously shove the ice cream down while staring at him from the corner of your eye, showing how possessive you are over your ice cream. He softly laughs at your appearance and shakes his head.

 

“You and your love for ice cream.”

 

—

 

You both have been walking for a while now, chattering about random things down the empty streets. After being in silence for a short bit, Minghao suddenly sighs.

 

“I feel like I should explain better. The reason why I kept on smiling at the dinner before you went off at me was because you’re cute when you’re angry. I really want you to clearly understand my side in case you’re still misunderstanding,” he explains with his head hanging parallel with his feet and face towards the ground. His voice isn’t too loud but isn’t too small either. It’s calm and soothing, with a hint of hesitation. He must be shy about saying such things.

 

At first, you didn’t know how to respond to him calling you cute, simply because you don't agree. As he continued, you realize he’s still really worried about hurting your feelings.

 

“Minghao, you’re fine. I’ve told you so many times. I know you’d never mean to hurt anyone. I’ve already let it go and you should too,” you speak with your posture like his, since eye contact during serious talk would be awkward. As expected, Minghao’s still the soft-hearted boy you know. You’ve already forgotten about the whole incident but he still stresses over it, worrying all by himself.

 

“I just wanted to make sure that you're okay and everything’s fine. I wouldn't want you to still feel sad about it without me knowing,” he says with a gentle smile. He looks at you and pats your head, running his fingers down to the tips of your hair. It’s unusual for him to lead physical contact, especially with you since any type of contact from you would be painful.

 

With his sudden touch, you can’t think of what to say back to him so you just give him a small smile back. What is there for you to say? What is there for you to do? He’s being so weird and different today you’re afraid of reacting in a way that might give the wrong message.

 

 

—

 

You both continue to walk farther and farther down the path. The intersection at the end of the road is where you have to separate. With only several meters left, Minghao starts to slow down. He takes smaller, slower steps. It’s like he doesn’t want the night to end, or he has something to say.

 

He stops walking right before reaching the intersection in an area that’s still dark and empty. He puts his hand on your head again, causing you to turn and face him out of confusion. He looks at you with delicate eyes; even in the night, they have a special glow to them. You stare straight into his soul, unable to process what’s going on.

 

Then you realize: mesmerizing Minghao is back. This has been his concept the whole day. He’s probably going to throw a cheesy joke in about 3 seconds.

 

1...2...3…

 

Within the blink of an eye, Minghao wraps an arm around your shoulder and the other on your waist, pulling you in.

 

Your heart stops beating for a second before life and reality smacks you right in the face. Your stomach churns and tickles in a slightly painful way. Your heart thumps and pounds in your chest, wanting to break through your bones. Your face burns up like a heated pan and your brain can’t seem to process a single thing besides his touch. This new feeling that's causing all these effects is so new to you. It somewhat feels nice, but you also feel attacked at the same time. What are you supposed to do? Why is mesmerizing Minghao still here? Why hasn't he ruined the moment yet?

 

His arms around you tighten and his chin deepens in your shoulder. His hand moves to the back of your head and caringly rubs down your hair. Your brain finally sends signals to your body, telling you to hug him back. You lightly place your arms around his waist with them barely touching him.

 

“Thank you for today. You did so much for me,” he whispers with his warm, small voice. He enfolds you in his arms even more and breaths in your scent. “Thank you.”

 

His embrace is nice. His warmth is nice. His touch is nice. Everything about him hugging you feels nice. The way his body envelops yours fit perfectly, making you want to squeeze him to death.

 

Although the usual you would probably kick him away by now, the you of this moment wants to take the chance and give him a big hug back. However, you stop yourself because if you return an action such as that, things might be different from today onwards. If you let yourself hug him freely like that, who knows what you’ll let yourself do in the future? Who knows what new feelings you’ll feel when that happens? You can’t risk losing him as a friend.

 

You hug him back, but just enough so that he won’t feel hurt and you won’t feel much.

 

“Random hug, but it felt needed,” he says after leaning back. He scratches the back of his head with a shy little smile, eyes wandering everywhere but on you.

“Yeah, it did,” you mumble to yourself.