I am so close to falling off the face of the earth. 

Well. 

At least I wish I was. 

Here I was, standing in front of at least forty eyes that just screamed disinterest and boredom. 

Oh, a transfer student. So cool. 

Little did they know, that I was also disinterested and bored. 

"Hello, my name is Krystal Jung. I'm really eager to start a new school year with everyone. Please take care of me. Thank you."

Nobody applauded until the homeroom teacher moved his hands. 

"That was a very polite introduction. We all expect a lot from you, Krystal."

"Thank you..." I started, but realized I had forgotten his name. 

"Kim," the teacher whispered to me. 

And I nodded my head quickly in embarrassment. 

"Okay, so" Mr. Kim clasped his hands together, "It's time to start our lesson. Krystal, you can sit next to Yumi." 

I followed the direction Mr. Kim was pointing his finger in and my eyes stopped to face to petite, skinny female student who let her hair stop right above her shoulders. 

"Hi, I'm Yumi!" she whispered ecstatically (to my surprise), "I can show you around our school after class if you want!" 

I gave her a nonchalant wave. 

"Krystal, as you already know." 

"Where are you from?" Yumi asked, her eyes sparkling. 

But I didn't answer. Yumi was nice and seemed genuine, but there was no need for me to make any friends. Attachments hurt when all you do is get moved around. 

 

The classes flew by; nobody really paid attention to me. 

Yumi, as much as she was nice, was also extremely clingy. 

"Oh, dammit!" she had elbowed me gently just a few moments ago, "We're not in the same class right now. I'll have to see you later!"

Poor thing. She must not have many other friends. 

I walked over to my next class, eyeing all the numbers on each door. 

56. Found it. 

I was about to slide open the door, when I heard scuffling of sneakers from across the hallway. I hated myself for backing away from the door, but I just couldn't.

Was someone getting bullied? At my last school, all those jocks would surround the poor victims and the squeaking of the expensive sneakers they wasted their money on was the ultimate sign.

I cautiously made my way over.

"Stop."

It was a girl's voice. Girls got bullied at this school?!

I was fuming. These students...

"Hey!" 

I lifted my hand, holding my textbook to whack the culprit. But all I ended up doing was dropping it on the floor. Not hitting anyone. 

"Who are you?"

A male student, had the girl pinned to the wall, both hands on either side of her. And the girl wasn't getting bullied. She had her hands on his hips.

I flushed. 

Her stop hadn't meant stop in the way I had thought.

I opened my mouth to say something in response, but I was too humiliated and flabbergasted.

"Gray, you know her?" the girl asked, smug.

Gray. That was my first time meeting him.