XI. Trust

 

Wendy eyes a handful of boxes all lined up and stacked above one another reaching as high as the ceiling. She cranes her neck back, eyeing the towers of cardboard, remembering just how much of a mess the Student Council’s storage room is. She grabs the nearest box, attempting to lift it, only to stumble and nearly crash to the floor. Her movements disturb long-sleeping dust and it swirls in the previously stagnant air, causing her to cough and blink furiously.

 

Disgusting.

 

The Vice President brushes her hands on her pants, wiping them clean. Once again, she scans the room and crosses her arms, thinking.

 

Moving the boxes around will take hours. Sorting through them will take even longer. A step ladder is needed for the boxes higher up. A mask so as not to breathe in the dust. And gloves for grip and to keep her hands clean.

 

A sudden sigh escapes her.

 

So much work just to find a simple folder of documents, and all by herself at that.

 

Except, she realizes, that isn’t quite true. There’s at least one person who can help her or rather, they have to. So long as she says so.

 

--

 

Her footsteps echo down the empty hall, hurried and with purpose as she approaches her destination. According to the copy of her schedule, Seulgi should currently be in her math class. Assuming, of course, that the girl was serious when she agreed to the terms of her alternative punishment.

 

No skipping class.

 

It was the first point Wendy had made to Seulgi as the latter was notorious for breaking the rule. And although there have been zero reports of Seulgi being absent recently, the Vice President can’t help but have doubts.

 

It’s one thing to hear it, but an entirely different thing to see it.

 

And one too many times has Wendy been disappointed and annoyed to see Seulgi running up to the rooftop or escaping to the parking lot, hiding away in her truck.

 

Wendy slows to a halt, arriving at the door of room 209. Her fingers curl around the handle and she imagines an empty seat will greet her once she opens the door. Then when she asks for the whereabouts of a certain delinquent, she predicts Mr. Lee will shake his head and shrug his shoulders saying, not here as per usual, mocking what little expectations she holds.

 

The picture is clear and so easy to see but when she enters the room that vision isn’t reality.

 

Sitting by the window, slouching in her seat with half-lidded eyes, is Kang Seulgi. Seemingly inattentive and barely awake.

 

But at the very least, here.

 

“Wendy, is there something you need?” Mr. Lee asks before proceeding onward with his lecture, arching a brow at how she lingered in the door frame. All eyes fleet over to her direction. Immediately, the Vice President offers an apologetic bow.

 

“Sorry to disturb your lesson, Mr. Lee. I’m actually here for Seulgi,” Wendy explains. “I need her help for a few errands.”

 

At the drop of her name everyone mumbles and turns. Buzzing like busy bees, uncaring of their indiscreet behavior. Wendy refrains from shaking her head.

 

“Looks like you’re dismissed, Ms. Kang.”

 

With his brief dismissal, Seulgi yawns and rises, gathering nothing but a single pencil that laid atop her desk, tucking it away into her back pocket. And Wendy internally scoffs at the fact that Seulgi carried nothing on her but a writing utensil. The very bare minimum of what one needs in class aside from being present, that is.

 

Wendy holds the door open as Seulgi slowly makes her way over, casually walking through the rows of desks and students. They each turn as she passes. They each mumble to themselves or to a nearby ear, spilling words. All the while, Seulgi’s face remains unchanging and uncaring, still blinking away the drowsiness that seemed to plague her. Then as Seulgi walks out, Wendy shuts the door behind them, leaving the whispers to die.

 

“Pulling me out of class to clean more tables or something? I was having so much fun in there too,” Seulgi pretends to complain with a long and heavy breath, feigning utter disappointment. Though a faint grin curves the corner of .

 

And Wendy rolls her eyes as she starts down the hall with Seulgi right at her heels.

 

“Isn’t it a little too early for your sarcasm?”

 

The heartthrob gives a tiny chuckle.

“Nope.”

 

--

 

“Mask. Gloves. Put them on,” Wendy quickly instructs as she places the two objects in Seulgi’s hands much to the latter’s confusion.

 

“Uh, and what exactly am I doing with these?” the taller girl asks, watching as Wendy pulls a mask over the bottom half of her face and then slipping on her own pair of gloves.

 

The Vice President isn’t much for explanations right now. Especially with so little time on her hands given everything else she needs to get done. So rather than say anymore than she needs to, Wendy opens the door, revealing the cluttered interior of the storage room.

 

A sharp whistle sounds off from behind her.

 

“Okay, I see,” Seulgi nods, sizing up the job as she puts on her gear.

 

Good.

 

At least the heartthrob is quick on the uptake.

 

“I’ll start on the left side of the room. You go on the right,” Wendy directs, grabbing the small step ladder she borrowed from the janitor as she enters the storage room. “We’re looking for a box filled with blue folders.”

 

“What about me?” Seulgi points. “Don’t I get one of those?”

 

Wendy spares a glance at her watch, roughly guessing how much time they have and how long they’ll take. If they’re lucky, maybe they’ll finish before lunch or perhaps, a little after if they hustle. Either way, the job is bound to take hours and Wendy rather not waste another minute. So she twists around to eye the heartthrob up and down, passing a lazy smirk and waving her hand.

 

“You’re tall enough. You’ll get by.”

 

With that, the Vice President sets her ladder down, getting to work, and reaching for her first box. It’s not until a second later that quiet laughter reaches her ears.

 

“Always so cold, Ms.Vice.”

 

The faint outline of Seulgi’s notorious grin appears in Wendy’s mind, taunting her. And though the better part of her knows that it’s probably best to ignore, she can’t help but turn around.

 

But what she expects is not what she sees.

 

Seulgi isn’t standing idly in the middle of the room, teasing her. The girl has already moved, surveying the other side. Glancing back and forth until she finally decides to go to the far right corner where the boxes aren’t stacked so high. Then without any hesitation, the girl quickly snaps on her latex gloves and puts on her mask, getting to work.

 

And despite herself, Wendy smiles the tiniest bit.

 

//

 

Irene lazily picks at her food. Eating small bites and occasionally sipping her water as she looks about. Her eyes wander from her table to the next and then to the next and then all around until her attention drifts upward to the clock on the far back wall. Fifteen minutes past the start of lunch and the two seats beside her are still empty--both Wendy and Seulgi missing.

 

Irene continues to lazily finish her lunch as she tries to listen to the back and forth chatter between Johnny, Mark, and Joy amidst all the rest of the cafeteria noise. She catches a few words here and there. Nodding to their points. Smiling at their jokes. But her attention can’t help but stray and soon she’s lost in her thoughts.

 

It isn’t hard to guess where Wendy is. Her best friend is always so busy and whatnot. So much so that her absence became a regular occurence. But even with her frequent disappearances, it was always easy to find her or figure out where she might be. The Student Council room. The Staffroom. The Principal’s office.

 

But Seulgi, on the other hand, was a different story as Irene could only ever guess where she was. And even then, it’d be a bad guess at that.

 

For a moment, she thinks of asking Joy when her phone in her pocket vibrates.

 

Two new message notifications. The first reads:

 

Wendy: Busy with some Student Council stuff again~ And just in case Seulgi hasn’t told you, she’s here helping me out >:]

 

Of course, Wendy is doing just as Irene expected. But to hear of Seulgi assisting the Vice President causes her to a raise a brow. Not to mention the sly looking emoji tacked at the end feeding her curiosity. She types a quick reply.

 

Irene: You should’ve texted me sooner lol. I was wondering where you guys were. Anyways, don’t overwork yourself too much though, Wendy~ :) See you later~!

 

Then Irene opens the second message and it relays what information she already knows but effortlessly, it brings a tiny smile to her face.

 

Seulgi: Currently being put to work by Ms. Vice so I won’t be at lunch today. I’m helping her look through boxes and junk. Don’t miss me too much, babe ;P

 

The pet name has her head shaking. And for a moment Irene thinks that maybe this is all a good thing--the arrangement of having Seulgi assist the Student Council, even if mandatory. Perhaps, Wendy will eventually see that the heartthrob’s not as bad as she thinks.

 

Irene: whatever lol i’ll save your lunch for later then so you can eat it after practice!

 

She sends the message and then tucks her phone away again. Beside her on the table is the packed lunch prepared for Seulgi. Patiently waiting and turning cold. Irene picks it up, turning it in her hands to feel its warmth before hiding it in her bag. She’ll just have to reheat it again later.

 

“Too full to eat the rest?” Joy suddenly asks and Irene realizes the question’s directed at her after catching the former’s stare targeted at her bag.

 

“Oh no, this isn’t for me,” Irene replies, feeling a little more shy than expected. “It’s actually for Seulgi.”

 

And Joy’s eyes seem to flutter and sparkle. Familiar enthusiasm brightening her face as she leans on the table, just a little closer.

 

“So you made that for her, then? Wow, that’s really nice of you, Irene,” the cheerleader grins and sighs, cradling her face in her hands, reminiscing. “I couldn’t even get any of my ex-boyfriends to do something like that for me but I guess, to be fair, I never did the same for them either,” Joy admits, pouting her lips. She hums quietly to herself. Looking far off somewhere Irene can’t trace. Deep in thought and uncharacteristically serious until finally, Joy releases a heavy breath. “Well, at least Seulgi’s eating some home cooking again--those are home cooked, right?”

 

Irene responds with a simple nod.

 

Yet again, Joy sighs.

 

“That’s so cute. When will someone make lunch for me?”

 

And as Joy huffs and falls into a daydream, Irene ponders. Thinking back to dark halls and a bare kitchen. The emptiness that filled Seulgi’s home carrying a sort of quiet Irene couldn’t help but notice the few times she was there. A silence that felt like overbearing solitude. Her brows knit together, feeling the weight of the memory press down on her.

 

“Joy, can I ask you something?”

 

The cheerleader blinks and tilts her head in invitation. Though perhaps it’s not her place to ask, Irene thinks as hesitation holds her tongue. Perhaps it’s best to brush it off. Drop it and be content. But ignoring never did come easy to her and so she whispers a question that leaves her anxious for an answer.

 

“Is Seulgi home alone very often?”

 

A wisp of a smile touches Joy’s face. Her eyes softening just a tad, enough to draw Irene closer.

 

“Since she was a kid,” Joy reveals, keeping her voice steady. “Her parents work overseas, sending money and whatever she needs. Her aunt and uncle used to look after her though. They drove her around. Picked her up after school. Had her over to dinner. But they ended up moving and by that time Seulgi was already old enough to get around by herself.”

 

Instantly, Irene frowns, recalling the heavy silence. A sinking feeling in her gut.

 

And Joy chuckles, somehow entertained by Irene’s expression, “Are you surprised?”

 

Is it so unnatural for her to be? Is it strange? No, the stranger thing here is the light bit of amusement in Joy’s voice as if to say this is how things are--how it’s always been. A fact Joy has long accepted and one Irene can’t help but dwell on.

 

“She never told me any of that,” Irene mutters, casting her gaze down to her half-eaten lunch.

 

Joy straightens in her seat, stretching her arms before taking a drink from her water bottle. She fiddles with the bottlecap, rolling it between her fingers.

 

“Of course not. Even if you had asked her she would’ve changed the subject, That’s just the way Seulgi is. I’m sure you know that by now.”

 

And Irene almost moves to speak.

 

Almost.

 

But when she meets Joy’s eyes, there’s nothing to say.

 

//

 

Complete disarray. Opened boxes scattered all around. Some full of binders, others loaded with office supplies, and very few containing folders. Only after hours of searching did they finally find the box they were looking for, fittingly hidden underneath everything else because, of course, where else could it have been?

 

Wendy sits on the floor resting her back against one of the bigger boxes, catching her breath. Her arms lay limp at her sides, muscles sore and throbbing. A muzzled groan escapes her as exhaustion slowly takes over. Seated similarly across from her is Seulgi with agape, caught between a yawn and laughter. The Vice President scowls.

 

“What are you laughing at?”

 

“You, obviously,” Seulgi grins from ear to ear.

 

And Wendy’s eyes narrow at her remark as she starts to pull at her latex gloves, removing them slowly.

 

“I don’t remember saying anything funny.”

 

“You didn’t,” Seulgi shrugs. Her head tips lazily to the side, emphasizing the crooked smile on her face. An expression that only feeds Wendy’s suspicion.

 

The Vice President scoffs, “Then I don’t know what you find so amusing.”

 

“I was just thinking that for someone as tiny as you,” the heartthrob’s stare travels from Wendy’s outstretched legs to her shoulders, eventually catching Wendy’s gaze. A chuckle slips from her lips, “you sure are strong. Watching you lift boxes twice your size was pretty incredible. Which makes me wonder...why are you so tiny, Ms.Vice?”

 

Wendy takes in a deep breath through her nose.

 

Idiot.

 

If it wasn’t apparent then, surely it’s apparent now.

 

“You babble a lot, you know that?” the Vice President sneers, balling up her removed gloves in her hands.

 

“Hey, it's a legitimate question,” Seulgi counters playfully as she puts a hand to her chin. “In fact, I think you’re small enough to fit in that box right there. I bet you’d still have plenty of legroom too--”

 

Wendy chucks her gloves, aiming for Seulgi’s face in hopes of ending her nonsense. Unfortunately, the muscles in her arm ached so much that the throw falls extremely short, her gloves falling dead between them. The pitiful display, of course, causes Seulgi to burst into a laughing fit and again, a yawn mixes in.

 

The girl certainly had a knack for irritating her. And as far as Wendy can tell, Seulgi enjoyed it immensely, wearing her unfaltering smile accompanied with poking teases even in her evident exhaustion. And although Wendy can’t help but scowl, she knows she shouldn’t be too annoyed given the fact that the girl did help her for the past four hours or so without a break for food or rest until now. Earnestly completing their task absent of any complaints or snarky remarks. Just like the Saturday they spent scraping the gum off of tables.

 

A memory flashes in her mind.

 

I don’t halfass anything, Wendy.

 

And the Vice President sighs as a form of some acceptance. Despite her previous doubts and skepticisms, observing Seulgi up close, the statement is beginning to sound more truthful to Wendy as much as she disliked admitting it.

 

She gets on her feet, dusting the dirt off her and then proceeds to file through the box of blue folders. In her peripheral vision she catches Seulgi rubbing the sleep from her eyes, signalling another incoming yawn. The Vice President rolls her eyes.

 

“It’s annoying watching you yawn all day. Stop going out all night and get some proper rest,“ Wendy scolds halfheartedly, attempting not to sound too concerned.

 

Seulgi blinks. A flicker of surprise on her face.

 

“You wound me, Wendy. I’ll have you know that I was safe at home and in bed last night like a good little girl. I know, it’s absolutely shocking,” Seulgi smirks. “It’s your best friend who’s been keeping me up late with her phone calls.”

 

And the last sentence sounds off to Wendy. Strange in the way that it doesn’t line up with Seulgi’s arrogant expression. Strange in the way that underneath, there’s a softness. Some underlying warmth found in her words but no, Wendy must be mistaken, she tells herself.

 

“Wendy! Where are you?!” a sudden voice yells and Seulgi raises a questioning brow.

 

“Over here!” The Vice President shouts back.

 

Within seconds, Yeri pops into the storage room, carrying a large black binder. “I finished up organizing the itinerary like you asked--” Immediately, her eyes widen at all the clutter and disorder. “What the hell? What happened here?”

 

“I was looking for something,” Wendy simply explains, continuing to filter through the blue folders. Picking one or two out every so often to peek at its contents then sliding them back in, hoping the next one will be what she’s seeking.

 

Yeri her head to the side. Stray locks of blonde hair fall and she tucks it behind her ear as she scans the room.

 

“What the hell were you looking for--oh, Seulgi!” And the pitch of her voice rises. Unnaturally happy and upbeat all of sudden. Like a whistle sounding off, stealing Wendy’s attention. “Hi! Wait, why are you here?”

 

The biggest smile emerges on Yeri’s face, reaching her cheeks and revealing her teeth. A smile that Wendy has rarely ever seen on the Treasurer’s face except for two instances. One, when she was receiving a present. And two, when she was being treated to food. Now to see her practically beaming just because of Seulgi--Wendy nearly facepalms from the absurdity.

 

“Wendy bullied me into helping her,” Seulgi pouts, exaggerating her soreness as she rolled her shoulder and winced.

 

“Of course she did,” Yeri more than eagerly replies, shaking her head, seemingly disappointed by the Vice President. Quickly though, an unusual timidness begins to surface. The Treasurer bites her lip, surprisingly hesitant. “Uh...by the way, we’ve never really talked before but I’m--”

 

“Yeri, the Student Council Treasurer,” Seulgi finishes with a smile. “I know.”

 

And Wendy doesn’t miss the pink in Yeri’s cheeks blooming against her pale skin. The girl brings the binder to her face, attempting to mask her growing blush but miserably doing so. Honestly, one would’ve had to be blind not to notice. Either that or incredibly stupid.

 

Then finally, when a small giggle slips from Yeri’s lips, Wendy deems it’s time for the latter’s exit.

 

Ridiculous.

 

“Well, since you’re here, Yeri, why don’t you help us clean up?” The Vice President kindly suggests, still sifting through the box of blue folders. “After all, you don’t seem to be awfully busy--”

 

“Whoops, would you look at the time! I have to go, uh, do that one errand for Seohyun,” Yeri stammers, throwing out her usual excuse. Slipping out the doorway, nice and easy. Careful not to look too eager to get away but Wendy knows how allergic Yeri is to manual labor and how desperate she is to escape from even just the hint of it. “I’ll just leave this binder on your desk--see you later, Wendy! Oh, and good luck at your track meet this weekend, Seulgi! I’m rooting for you!”

 

The Student Council Room door slams open and then close from Yeri’s swift departure. At that instant Wendy glares at Seulgi, recalling how smooth that latter had been with her junior.

 

“You have a girlfriend.”

 

And Seulgi blinks in astonishment, registering her words before breaking into laughter.

 

“I barely even said anything,” the heartthrob replies between chuckles.

 

But Wendy quickly dismisses the girl, turning back to focus on the blue folders. Uninterested in what other things Seulgi could possibly say to defend herself. “Whatever,” the Vice President scoffs. She scans the next two blue folders. Then the next three. Four more. And then she smiles, finally stumbling upon what she was looking for. It nearly took the entire day but at least now she has what she needs to finish putting together the school trip. With a breath of relief, her shoulders sink. She spares a small glance at Seulgi, “You still have practice later, right?”

 

The heartthrob nods.

 

“You can go back to class then. I’ll finish cleaning things up.”

 

Wendy safely sets the blue folder on the side, careful not to misplace it near any of the clutter from their search. She pulls her face mask back on and proceeds to pack and pick up the nearest box when Seulgi beats her to it. Without a word, the heartthrob begins stacking the boxes back in place, starting in the right corner of the room.

 

The Vice President’s brows furrow at the sight. A small frown tugs at the corners of her lips. She gave permission to leave. Dismissal from further work. And yet, Seulgi is still here. Perhaps it’s just defiant nature, Wendy thinks. After all, Seulgi’s a delinquent of sorts. But when the heartthrob sees the confused look on Wendy’s face, questioning her with suspicious eyes, she merely grins and shrugs.

 

“What? I’m just helping out the Student Council like I’m supposed to.”

 

And Seulgi carries on, assisting Wendy for the remainder of the day in silence.

 

//

 

She puts her right foot out for a lunge, stretching her muscles and warming up before practice. The girls around her do the same, following their own warm-up routines. A light breeze passes through and Krystal fixes her bun, tucking stray hairs back in place as she stares at the gray sky. Clouds looming overhead and the smell of past rainfall in the air.

 

“Sorry to bail on you, Krystal, but Irene and I are going to head home now. She’s not feeling too well after all those rides,” Seulgi smiles softly, passing Krystal a wave and giving a small nod to Minho before taking off.

 

Krystal watches worriedly as Seulgi runs, soon disappearing into the crowd.

 

“I hope Irene is okay,” the girl frowns. “You don’t think we overdid it, do you? Maybe we should’ve taken more breaks in between each rollercoaster?”

 

“That’s not it,” Minho says and the words hang heavy and cold between them. Beside her, he’s quiet for a moment. Staring somewhere far off and beyond. Krystal knows that look isn’t for her. “I told you it was a bad idea.”

 

Krystal returns to the resting position, taking in a breath and then putting her left foot out this time.

 

It’s been days since the double date. Days much too late for any apologies and she blames her lack of courage for it. The way she always fumbled and lost resolve. How easily her determination dwindled away whenever she tried to approach Irene. It’s never been this hard. It shouldn’t be this hard. But the thought of being alone and facing the ex of her current boyfriend, somehow, there’s a fear that always sprouts.

 

Why?

 

“Irene!” Joy shouts.

 

Immediately, Krystal stiffens as she watches Joy smiling and waving as she runs across the field to where Irene stands waiting.

 

She bites her lip. Her fingers play at the hem of her shirt, counting the seconds. Observing. Thinking. Irene waves to leave, heading towards the track field. It’s now or never and Krystal breaks into a run, cutting her off. The girl stares wide-eyed and Joy calls her name in surprise.

 

Finally, Krystal musters what little courage is left.

 

“Irene, can we talk?”

 

--

 

They stand behind the gym, void of any prying eyes. Far away enough from all the cheerleaders and athletes and club practices to not be heard and let their voices be carried by the wind. Hesitation begins to build, knotting deep down in her gut, imprisoning her voice little by little. Under Irene’s unwavering gaze, dark eyes that seem much too worried, Krystal takes a deep breath. Clearing her mind and stringing together her words.

 

“Sorry for pulling you over here all of a sudden but there’s just something I needed to say. Something I wanted to tell you sooner but--” she chokes, aware that she’s beginning to stall. Excuses and pointless babble. Best to get to the point now otherwise she might never. Krystal shakes her head. “I’m sorry about the double date, Irene.”

 

Irene flinches slightly, clearly taken aback by the statement. Krystal clasps her hands behind her back, digging a thumb into her palm every few seconds or so. Careful not to stumble. Wanting to be clear. Hoping her voice doesn’t suddenly falter.

 

“Seulgi said you weren’t feeling well from all of the rides but I realized later on that it wasn’t the real reason why you left,” Krystal explains, remembering all the smiles Irene had given that evening. Wondering how much had been hidden. “The whole thing was a stupid idea and honestly, insensitive of me. I--” she bites her lip, recollecting herself. “I hope you don’t think that I was trying to hurt you on purpose. I never wanted that.”

 

A cool breeze touches Krystal’s cheeks and neck causing her to shiver. Stray hairs from her bun fall again, drifting and tickling her skin. In front of her, Irene stands motionless, holding her bag with both hands, plainly staring back at her.

 

Oddly calm.

 

Krystal expects anger to follow. That Irene will speak and lash out at her. Throwing harsh words and unveiling the hurt.

 

It’s only natural.

 

But when the girl’s lips move to speak, gentleness is all that’s given.

 

“Can I ask why you suggested it in the first place?” Irene tilts her head. The tiniest crease forming at the space between her brows.

 

A reaction far from what Krystal expected. The tension in her shoulders fades.

 

“I guess you could call it foolish optimism?” the cheerleader replies, aware of how silly it sounds but it’s the truth. Both a good and bad thing depending on the situation. A trait that she’s always had.

 

“You and Minho dated for quite some time but I know, even now, Minho still values you as an important friend,” Krystal continues, speaking cautiously. Wary of how Irene’s eyes, for a split second, cast downward at the sound of his name. “I thought that going out for some fun together could maybe salvage some of that friendship despite what’s happened between all of us.”

 

Maybe Minho and Seulgi could finally start to get along.

 

Maybe Irene and Minho could start acting like friends again.

 

And maybe they could all be on good terms.

 

Maybe.

 

Recalling those thoughts now,--the wishes she had--indeed, it was all foolish optimism. And a terrible sinking feeling at the pit of her stomach emerges, forcing a dry laugh out of her. “It sounds really naive now that I’m hearing it out loud,” Krystal attempts to smile and brush away the regret. “But Irene, I really am sorry for being so stupid.”

 

There’s no guarantee she’ll be forgiven, this much Krystal knows. Especially after everything that’s happened with her, Minho, and Irene.

 

But still, it was something she had to say.

 

If only this much.

 

“You weren’t the only one,” Irene says, letting the bag in her hands swing back and forth, softly bumping against her knees. “I mean, I was just as stupid to say yes. Maybe we have that in common,” she sighs, meeting Krystal’s gaze, “foolish optimism.”

 

The cheerleader raises a brow, unsure of whether or not she heard Irene correctly.

 

“What do you mean?” Krystal asks.

 

In the distance, faint voices can be heard. Traces carried by another small breeze, touching them. Warm-ups were done and cheer practice now underway. Irene runs her fingers through her hair, brushing it away from her face.

 

“I thought things were better than they were but it turns out I overestimated myself,” Irene confesses. A low whisper barely caught.

 

Neither say anymore for the moment and in that shared silence, Krystal’s stare lingers. Charting the delicate features of Irene’s face in her mind, wondering.

 

“It’s hard to tell, even for me, but Irene,” Minho sighs, “she’s good at faking a smile. So good, I could almost never tell. Not until it was too late. Just like today.”

 

Krystal frowns, clasping her hands around his. Leaning closer for warmth, she rests her head against his shoulder as they leave the pier.

 

“We shouldn’t have done this double date, huh?” Krystal thinks out loud.

 

Minho pats her head gently with his free hand and then smooths out her hair, giving a small bit of comfort.

 

“It’s fine. I know you just wanted to help.”

 

Still, even with good intentions, the guilt begins to haunt her all the same. Krystal stops walking, forcing Minho to halt as well. He turns to her, waiting.

 

“Maybe you should try talking to her one-on-one again,” the cheerleader suggests, to which Minho immediately shakes his head as if the idea isn’t worth the consideration.

 

“I can’t,” he says resolutely. “Not right now.”

 

And Krystal takes note of the way his voice drops in tone and volume. Almost somber. Nearly drowned out by the sound of small waves rocking against the pier. Nearly lost as the wooden structure groans in response to each movement. But though his words barely reach her ears, she knows.

 

His eyes told her enough.

 

“Why not?” Krystal asks.

 

And Minho shoves his hands in pockets, tipping his head back to look at the night sky.

 

“Because I’m the one who hurt her.”

 

Krystal bites her lower lip. “Then I’ll talk to her,” she proposes. “I want to at least apologize for today since it was my idea. I just hope she hears me out.”

 

 

“Krystal,” Irene calls out to her, pulling her out of her thoughts.

 

She takes one step forward, closing a bit of distance between them. On her lips rests the hint of a smile.

 

“I forgive you.” And those three words leave the cheerleader dazed. Three words so easily said--so easily given to her, it’s almost unfair. “It’s not entirely your fault things ended up this way between me and Minho,” Irene reassures. “So you shouldn’t worry about fixing anything between us. I think, in time, things will eventually be okay again.”

 

Minho takes in a deep breath. In. Out. A small cloud of cold air leaves him.

 

“She’ll definitely listen,” he says, completely certain.

 

“How are you so sure?”

 

Krystal nods. Relief washing over her.

 

“I hope so,” she says.

 

On the other side of the gym, the vague sound of a whistle can be heard. Irene slings her bag across one shoulder and checks her phone for the time.

 

“Well, I better go. I have to give this food to Seulgi before it gets cold again.” Irene gives a small wave as she departs. “Thank you for talking to me, Krystal.”

 

And Krystal remains in place. Her hand hanging limp in the wind, barely waving even after Irene is out of view.

 

“Because that’s just the kind of person Irene is,” Minho says matter-of-factly. “Even if she’s angry or sad, in the end, she’s too kind for her own good.”

 

Krystal folds her arms over her chest. Hands grabbing at her sleeves.

 

A new worry takes root.

 

//

 

The whistle blows again and everyone bolts. A sight that always has Irene in awe as she watches how each footstep that kisses the ground propels Seulgi forward, as if she were the wind leaving the rest behind. They can barely keep up. And in a matter of seconds, the heartthrob crosses the finish line.

 

First, yet again.

 

Irene finds herself smiling at the triumphant look on Seulgi’s face as the latter paces around in the grass, panting, trying to catch her breath. Beads of sweat roll down her temple. Exhaustion nonexistent in her carefree grin when Mark hands her a water bottle. She drinks it all in seconds.

 

Another sound of the whistle and Coach Kim waves everyone over for another round. Seulgi bends down to fix the laces of her shoes, undoing them and retying them. Ensuring they’re tight and secured. But Irene pauses for a moment, narrowing her eyes at the obvious wear and tear, questioning how Seulgi can even manage with those tattered things.

 

They crouch, ready for take off. Coach Kim gives the signal and they lunge forward, sprinting. A gust of wind. Soaring past all the rest, Seulgi leaves them in the dust with shoes that seemed to be on the verge of falling apart.

 

Though, truthfully, it’s no surprise.

 

Somehow, Seulgi always seemed to get by.

 

That’s just the way Seulgi is. I’m sure you know that by now.

 

A small frown tugs at the corners of Irene’s lips.

 

--

 

“God, I’ve never been so hungry in my whole life,” Seulgi manages to say between spoonfuls of food. Quickly scarfing down the lunch Irene had prepared. Bits of rice fall from . A sloppy display that has Irene cracking a grin.

 

“Slow down or you’re going to choke.”

 

But Seulgi pays no heed, finishing her meal and handing the near-empty container back to Irene. Immediately, the latter sighs, eyeballing the remaining contents. A few small carrots leftover.

 

“For someone who’s so hungry, you still manage to be picky,” Irene arches a brow.

 

To which Seulgi simply shrugs, “Come on, I finished most of it, didn’t I? Plus, I worked extra hard today helping your best friend move a ton of boxes and stuff, so I think I deserve to be let off the hook this time.”

 

It’s a lazy argument, though Irene knows some would sway just from the sight of Seulgi’s smirk. Allowing the heartthrob to get away as she pleased. Sadly for Seulgi, Irene is not one of those people.

 

“It’s because you worked so hard today that you should eat all of this,” Irene softly scolds, picking a few carrots with her fork to give to Seulgi. “Here.”

 

The heartthrob doesn’t budge. Instead, she stares at the carrots, scowling. Her eyes fleeting back and forth between the vegetables and Irene, wordlessly conveying her dislike and reluctance. Hoping Irene won’t force her.

 

Five seconds pass. Ten seconds. Thirty. A minute and still, Irene waits patiently with her arm stretched outward. Eventually, Seulgi’s shoulders sink and she leans forward, allowing Irene to feed her. Chewing with a pout on her face. Irene hides a small giggle with the back of her hand.

 

So childlike.

 

“So why’d you show up late today?” Seulgi suddenly asks.

 

The inquiry is unexpectant. Having only been a few minutes late, Irene thought it would go unnoticed. But of course, she’s wrong. Truly, rarely anything snuck by the heartthrob it seems. And for some reason, the growing realization brings a smile to Irene’s lips.

 

“Krystal stopped me on the way here,” she answers. “She wanted to talk.”

 

Seulgi leans back, resting against the bleachers. A glint of curiosity in her eyes.

 

“Oh? And what kind of talk was this?” the heartthrob tilts her head, anticipating.

 

Irene thinks of telling Seulgi everything. Each word exchanged. Every look given. But looking back on what Krystal had said, Irene quickly changes her mind. It was nothing that troubled her further. Nothing that tugged in her chest or deepened the writhing in her heart. In fact, there is a new calm slowly seeping through, washing over her.

 

Things are getting better, she tells herself.

 

“The good kind,” Irene grins from ear to ear. “Nothing to be worried about.”

 

Seulgi arches a brow, her lips twisting into a smirk, “Glad to hear it.” Then, she stands up from the bleachers walking over to where her gym bag laid.

 

That’s right, Seulgi hardly ever pried. Only giving the slightest push. Never forcing her way but always there. A comforting presence Irene had come to rely on. A presence still mysterious to her--all the things Seulgi silently keeps. What weight she bears and how heavy they are. Irene doesn’t know and Seulgi never tells.

 

Not a single word.

 

Barely a sign.

 

Always a quick dismissal.

 

The heartthrob throws her things into her bag. Her towel, an extra shirt, followed by her water bottle and then her shoes.

 

Irene speaks up, “Hey Seulgi, can we stop by somewhere before you take me home?”

 

The heartthrob pauses for a moment, surprised by the request. Then, she zips up her bag and slings it across her shoulder.

 

“Sure, I’ll just take a quick shower first and then we can go.”

 

//

 

They enter the building side by side. Irene enthusiastically hopping in contrast to Seulgi’s long, casual strides. The latter stops first, eyeing the floors above and the storefronts surrounding them. Watching as groups of people pass them by, heading into shops, exiting over to another, and running up the escalators.

 

Unexpectedly crowded for a weekday.

 

“So, Miss Bae,” Seulgi calls with a sing-song tone. “Care to tell me what is you want at the mall?”

 

Irene hums to herself, hands placed behind her back as she lazily spins around. Shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Hair swaying back and forth. Her gaze searches the nearby vicinity.

 

“To buy you some new shoes,” she answers.

 

“To buy me some--what? Why?” Seulgi blinks, completely thrown off.

 

Irene turns to face the heartthrob, stating what should be obvious, “Because your current pair looked like they were torn to shreds.”

 

Immediately, the taller girl rolls her eyes and ruffles her hair.

 

“You’re exaggerating. They’re perfectly fine.”

 

And Irene shakes her head at the predictable response.

 

“No, you’re obviously blind then.” Knowing Seulgi, arguing any further would be pointless. So rather than circle back and forth, trying to convince her, Irene decides to settle things with the one sure way they always did. “You know what, here.” She puts her hand out, waiting for Seulgi to do the same and the heartthrob gives a small sigh as she follows suit. “On three.”

 

One. Two. Three. Shoot!

 

Irene jumps up and down, waving a closed fist in the air. Trusty rock has yet to fail her as she reigns triumphant once again. A small groan emits from Seulgi’s throat as she glares at her hand, as if scolding it. Somehow, the latter was terrible with games of chance.

 

Panting slightly from her brief celebration, Irene turns about, deciding on a starting point. It’s been a while since she’s visited the mall. Renovations and rearrangements of shops cause her to scratch her head as she attempts to remember where the closest place is to buy some running shoes. Eventually her poor sense of direction advises her to consult the nearby directory.

 

“Alright, so let’s check--”

 

Just as she takes a few steps forward, a sudden hand clamps around her wrist, yanking her backwards.

 

“Hold on a second,” Seulgi grins as Irene stumbles from her momentary loss of balance. “What’s the rush? Let’s just walk around a bit first.”

 

Irene narrows her eyes, searching the heartthrob’s face. And as if reading her mind, Seulgi gives a sheepish grin, answering her unasked question. “I’m also kind of hungry again. Come on, my treat.”

 

The shorter girl opens to refuse but her stomach speaks first, grumbling just loud enough for Seulgi to hear. Her cheeks flush pink, utterly embarrassed. A hearty laugh rings in her ears and Seulgi throws her arm around Irene’s shoulders, snickering at how the shorter girl hides her blush with the back of her hand.

 

“I got you, babe,” the heartthrob teases as they make their way to the food court.

 

--

 

What Irene thought was to be one meal turns out to be four. She watches, amazed and somewhat stupefied by the display before her. Having already finished her own food, Irene sits patiently as Seulgi slowly but inevitably scarfs everything down. She never knew the girl could eat so much--not from the way she seemed to starve herself at school. And Irene thinks that perhaps she should start packing Seulgi bigger servings for lunch.

 

The heartthrob looks up from her food, chewing as she catches Irene’s stare.

 

“Are you still hungry?” she asks. “I’ll buy you some more if you want or you can have some of mine.”

 

“No, thanks. I’m good. Now stop talking when your mouth is full,” Irene commands, stifling a laugh.

 

Seulgi shrugs, devouring another spoonful of rice.

 

“Suit yourself.”

 

Small bits fly from and onto the table causing Irene to grimace. The latter grabs a nearby napkin, cleaning up after the girl.

 

“Oh my God, eat first! Talk later!” Irene scolds.

 

--

 

After what felt like hours later, they finally leave the food court. As they walk, Seulgi pats her stomach, wearing a satisfied grin--happy and full. Though, from where Irene is standing, the heartthrob seems about ready to pass out from a food coma with her half-lidded eyes and crooked smile.

 

“I can’t believe you only ate one order,” Seulgi sighs, sounding mildly disappointed.

 

“And I can’t believe you ate more than five orders,” Irene scoffs, turning her head left and right, wondering where all the shoe stores are.

 

Maybe farther down, she thinks.

 

“Irene, do you have any idea how much energy I burn during practice?” the heartthrob questions with a smirk, shoving her hands into her pockets as she picks up the pace. “Besides, there’s barely anything to eat at home so I might as well get my fill here.”

 

The comment slides by casually but it sticks in Irene’s mind. Echoing and recalling. Her footsteps lag behind and she stares at Seulgi’s back as the distance grows between them. From here, the heartthrob doesn’t look so arrogant or tough or composed.

 

No hint of cockiness.

 

No cool demeanor.

 

From here, she looks just like everyone else--just a little smaller. A little somber.

 

And Irene nearly runs to catch up, “Hey--Ow!” she shouts after colliding into Seulgi’s back as the latter abruptly stops. Irene rubs the pain from her nose and twists around to face the taller girl. “Why’d you--what’s with that grin on your face?”

 

A simple point is her only answer, directing her to look behind. Irene follows as instructed and her eyes widen as her jaw drops at the sight of the arcade before them. Lights flashing all around and sound effects of all kinds of things catching her ears.

 

A sigh of nostalgia leaves Seulgi’s lips, “I was just thinking back on how badly I beat you the last time we went to an arcade.”

 

The statement triggers the need for correction because Irene is sure she was the one who reigned victorious between them.

 

“Um, you must be remembering things incorrectly because I won way more times than you did,” Irene attempts to explain politely but the slight edge in her tone betrays her.

 

The heartthrob shakes her head, seemingly clueless. Pressing Irene’s buttons.

 

“Nope, that’s not how I remember it.”

 

“You have a horrible memory then, just like your eyesight,” Irene argues back as her competitive nature starts to get the better of her. Somehow, Seulgi was getting her facts wrong when it came to Irene winning and that just wasn’t right.

 

Irene scowls, clearly annoyed to a small degree at the very least. But then Seulgi leans to Irene’s eye level, staring back with dark piercing orbs--mere inches from her face. And the sudden close proximity catches Irene off guard, causing her breath to hitch and her frown to falter slightly, shaking.

 

“My memory and eyesight, huh?” the heartthrob repeats, cocking her head to the side. “You have a mole near your right eyebrow and one on the top of your head. There’s this unique habit you have of raising your eyebrow sometimes--just a tiny bit. Every morning you pick up three pens from your locker. One black, one blue, and one purple. Last night you called me at around 8 pm and you didn’t hang up until 11. And today, you’re wearing different earrings from the day before.” A smirk emerges on Seulgi’s face. “So, Irene, my memory and eyesight are excellent.”

 

And against her will, Irene’s cheeks begin to turn pink upon hearing such observations. With the best of her abilities, she tries to calm the heat rushing to her face.

 

“W-Well,” Irene clears , “your memory is wrong this time!”

 

Seulgi pulls back, straightening herself. She her chin, humming in thought.

 

“Is it really? I don’t think so. Of course, you could always prove your prowess with a rematch. But, being the kind person that I am, I understand if you want to back out though--”

 

Almost instantly, Irene grabs hold of Seulgi’s arm, dragging her into the arcade.

 

--

 

The rounds are quick and conclusive. With every game the same winner is crowned over and over. Determined to prove her point and ensure that it is never forgotten, Irene steels herself with unparalleled focus as she repeatedly defeats Seulgi in a number of arcade games.

 

Once. Twice. Thrice.

 

A total of twenty-five times and counting so far.

 

Another victory banner blesses her screen and Irene jumps, rejoicing that her streak still hasn’t ended. Seulgi pouts, smacking the arcade machine and clicking her tongue from what Irene assumes is frustration. The heartthrob’s attention drifts elsewhere momentarily, as if scouting the area. Perhaps for more games, Irene thinks. A game in which Seulgi might actually have a chance? Irene cackles to herself. As if Seulgi could beat her at any game other than her favorite.

 

“Give it up, Seulgi. I’m going to win no matter what we play next. I told you your memory was wrong.”

 

The heartthrob arches a brow, still scanning the area.

 

“Is that so?”

 

Irene narrows her gaze.

 

“Kang Seulgi,” she scoffs. “I literally beat you at everything so far.”

 

“True but there’s still more and I’m bound to beat you at one of them,” Seulgi turns to her, grinning widely. Sounding oddly optimistic despite her losses. “And when I do you’ll be saying, ‘the winner is Kang Seulgi’--”

 

“Kang Seulgi?!” A voice yells, cutting Seulgi off. Deep and booming, somehow audible even with all the different sounds and music playing in the background. Irene jumps from shock.

 

Both girls turn to see a man, tall and muscular, at the other end of the room walking towards them.

 

“Hey! Kang Seulgi, is that you?! Didn’t I tell you not to come here anymore!”

 

Instinctively, Irene hides behind the taller girl. Her hands grip at the back of Seulgi’s shirt and her brows furrow together in worry, wondering why a man as intimidating as him knew Seulgi. On the other hand, the heartthrob simply smirks.

 

“So he does still work here,” she says to herself before spinning on her heel and grabbing Irene. The man comes closer and closer, yelling Seulgi’s name as he makes his way over. The smaller girl watches wide eyed and confused as Seulgi starts to hop and pull her along. “Time to go!”

 

“W-What?! Wait! Who is he--”

 

The man’s yelling grows louder and his strides longer as he tries to catch up to them.

 

Seulgi laughs and gains speed, “Run!”

 

--

 

Irene’s not sure how she kept up or how her legs didn’t give in and collapse beneath her. Maybe it was the force of Seulgi dragging her, helping her keep her momentum. Running hard and fast. Feet thumping against the floor and then striking the asphalt. Finally, when they reach Seulgi’s truck in the parking lot, the taller girl lets go and Irene rests against the passenger door, leaning and catching her breath.

 

She hears her heartbeat pounding in her ears. Chest heaving up and down. Irene’s never ran that fast before. It takes minutes for her to recover. But beside her, Seulgi is fine and dandy, combing her hair with her fingers, untangling the knots.

 

“That was close,” Seulgi gives a sigh of relief.

 

“Who…” Irene pants. “Who was… that?”

 

The heartthrob fishes her phone from her pocket, checking the time and then briefly glancing up at the sky, tucking it away.

 

“Some guy I used to hustle a few years back. We bet money every time we played and of course, I won. I used to do it to a lot of people there until they told me not come back. It was their fault for underestimating a little girl,” Seulgi crosses her arms and chuckles. “Can’t believe he still works there.”

 

Irene stares at her in disbelief, still somewhat breathless from their escape. With the back of her hand, she wipes the light sheet of sweat from her forehead. Another minute or two passes and Irene stands straight, having fully recovered.

 

“You did a good job keeping up,” Seulgi smiles at Irene. The latter blinks from the sudden compliment and the rare softness in the heartthrob’s eyes. And Seulgi opens the passenger door. “Now let’s go home. It’s getting late.”

 

Irene nods as she’s about to step into the truck. Nearly inside when she glances down and remembers why they were at the mall in the first place.

 

“Oh my God, we forgot about your shoes!” Irene exclaims, cursing herself for having forgotten. “Let’s go back inside. There’s still time to look around and buy some!”

 

To her surprise, Seulgi doesn’t budge. The door remains open and waiting. And the heartthrob gives a tiny laugh far from the usual. Something heavy and unfamiliar. Almost forced.

 

“You don’t need to buy me anything,” she reassures. A grin still present on her face. Growing fainter and fainter.

 

But no, Irene can’t accept that. Seulgi’s answers were always like that. Just this once, Irene wants things to be different.

 

“I want to though,” Irene explains, nearly pleading. Her eyes shimmering as they stare back at Seulgi. “You’ve been doing so much for me.”

 

And there’s a shift as Seulgi’s expression seems to harden. A distant gaze Irene hadn’t seen in the longest while resurfaces. The curve on her lips fades almost completely. Her voice comes out smooth and cool--piercing.

 

“It’s fine, Irene. I’m not worth it anyway,” the heartthrob bluntly explains. “You’re money should be better spent on other things.”

 

For a moment, Irene freezes. Caught off guard, trying to read her. To see deeper. But it’s so casually said, brief and to the point--it has to be joke, she thinks. As usual, Seulgi is simply playing her part. The fake girlfriend giving everything to her. The heartthrob sweeping others off their feet.

 

That’s what it is, isn’t it?

 

And yet, looking at Seulgi, Irene can’t be sure. She isn’t convinced.

 

“What?” Irene tries to laugh, hoping that, in the next few seconds, the heartthrob gives her lopsided smirk as always. “Is that another one of those lines you use to charm people?”

 

A second passes.

 

And then another.

 

And another.

 

Nothing changes.

 

“Lines? No. I’m just telling you the truth.” And Seulgi walks over to the driver’s side and starts the truck. “Come on, let’s go.”

 

//

 

Last night, there was no call from Irene. This morning, she wasn’t at her locker either. And for the past three classes, Seulgi had yet to see the girl in the hallway. The heartthrob wonders where Irene may possibly be as she stares at her phone, rereading the text she sent to her--still unanswered.

 

Did something happen?

 

Seulgi slouches, sinking in her seat. Mindlessly staring at the whiteboard. Tuning out the drawl coming out of Mr.Choi’s mouth.

 

The heartthrob tells herself that perhaps Irene just slept in. Opting to stay at home and skip class for the day. Or maybe a family emergency suddenly came up out of the blue. Seulgi convinces herself not to worry so much.

 

Best not to dwell on it.

 

Yet despite everything, she can’t put it out of her mind.

 

Her finger taps along the desk.

 

Once.

 

Twice.

 

Three times.

 

She stops. Her hand curling into a fist.

 

Wendy would know where Irene is, wouldn’t she? And if she didn’t, it’s plausible she’ll let Seulgi leave to find out. If only--

 

Her phone vibrates and immediately, Seulgi opens the new message.

 

Irene: Meet me at my locker after class.

 

//

 

The bell rings and the hallways are soon flooded with students. Lockers clanking open and close. Chatter filling the air. Irene stands beside her locker, searching the passing crowds for a specific face. After a minute of waiting, the girl finally comes into view. Kang Seulgi approaches, arching a brow as she stops within two feet of Irene.

 

“You kind of had me worried. Where have you been all morning?” the heartthrob asks.

 

But Irene doesn’t answer. Instead, she turns around. Her hand lingers on her locker’s handle as she takes a deep breath, steeling herself. Strengthening both her voice and resolve.

 

This time things will be different.

 

She opens the locker, taking out a moderately-sized box and then hands it to Seulgi. The latter’s stare flickers back and forth between the box and Irene, confusion written across her face. Though it only lasts a moment as it is soon replaced with astonishment when she notices the brand on it and everything clicks together.

 

The heartthrob’s mouth opens to object--just as expected. But Irene speaks first, denying her the chance.

 

“Yesterday, you said something,” Irene starts, looking directly into Seulgi’s eyes. Ensuring that every word is heard. “You said you’re not worth it. I want to tell you, you’re wrong.”

 

Her hands clench at her sides.

 

All night it bothered her. And in the morning, it didn’t leave her. The words rang in her head like a broken record. Over and over again.

 

Wrong.

 

Wrong.

 

Wrong.

 

“Us dating may not be real--you’re not my girlfriend. But at the very least,” Irene gives it her all. Mustering her courage and speaking louder--clear and unmistaken, “you are my friend. That’s all that matters and that means you’re worth everything.”

 

For a moment, Seulgi says nothing. Eyes dark and unreadable, closely observing Irene. Then the heartthrob breaks into a sort of awkward smile, rubbing the back of her neck. A practiced response--Irene’s sure.

 

“Aren’t you a little too serious over some shoes?”

 

Immediately, Irene shakes her head. Too serious? Far from it. These are words Seulgi needs to hear. What Irene wants her to hear. Words that she deserves. For the girl has done so much and continues to do so. How easily she disregards all of it, how easily she forgets and dismisses it--it isn’t right.

 

“No. Because this is about more than a pair of shoes. Kang Seulgi.” She calls her name. Gaze unyielding. Trying to convey all that she can in the simplest way. “It’s your turn to trust me when I say you’re worth it.”

 

The heartthrob’s jaw sets.

 

Silence filters in, coming between them. But Irene doesn’t look away and neither does Seulgi. The latter’s expression is still, defiant to showing any sign. Such a rigid and emotionless mask at times like these--much like the day Seulgi first comforted her in the bathroom and refused her request. Cold and distant.

 

Irene doesn’t want that.

 

She prays for a breakthrough.

 

She hopes for even the tiniest crack. That somehow, her feelings will make it.

 

That’s just the way Seulgi is. I’m sure you know that by now.

 

No, this time things will be different.

 

The noise in the hallways begins to die down as students proceed to their next class. Traffic moving left. Traffic moving right. But Irene waits patiently. Uncaring if she’ll miss another one of her classes. She’ll wait and stand her guard. She’ll say it all over again if she has to.

 

But finally Seulgi sighs, defeated.

 

And Irene smiles from ear to ear, knowing that even if it’s just for the moment, the heartthrob has reluctantly accepted everything.

 

A small start but progress nonetheless.

 

“Are you done?” the heartthrob asks.

 

“Yes, but you have to take the shoes.”

 

The heartthrob tucks the box underneath her left arm. Holding them close. Giving them a second glance and nodding.

 

“Fine, I’ll take the shoes.”

 

“And you have to wear them every day of practice,” Irene demands, crossing her arms across her chest.

 

Seulgi pauses and a chuckle escapes her, surprised by the other’s aggressiveness. Yet again, she easily complies.

 

“I’ll wear them every day. Anything else?”

 

Irene puts out her pinky.

 

“You have to win at the track meet.”

 

The biggest grin spreads across Seulgi’s face. And the heartthrob curls her pinky with Irene’s.

 

“With these, there’s no way I’ll lose,” she promises and when their hands break away, her voice softens to nearly a whisper. “Thanks, Irene.”

 

The shorter girl arches a brow. The lack of a nickname surprising her.

 

“Irene? Not babe?”

 

And Seulgi sways side to side, playfully humming as Irene awaits an answer. Then, the heartthrob leans in close, hovering mere inches from Irene’s face. “Well, I’m not thanking my fake girlfriend, am I? It’s my friend who bought me these so,” Seulgi smirks, “thank you, Irene.”

 

“You’re welcome,” she giggles, incredibly elated.

 

But when the heartthrob doesn’t pull away, standing still and staring at her, Irene frowns slightly in confusion.

 

“What? Is something wrong?”

 

“No,” Seulgi smiles, poking the space between Irene’s eyebrows. “I just really like the look on your face.”

 

Irene shyly pushes Seulgi’s hand away, rolling her eyes at the latter’s ridiculousness, “Whatever. So are you going to keep staring or are you going to walk me to class?”

 

On cue, the heartthrob moves to stand next her, offering her arm.

 

“Let’s go.”

 

//

 

On her desk is the box of shoes Irene gave her. She picks up the left and then the right, examining them closely. Feeling the quality and smiling at the possibilities. Excited to see how they feel when she runs full speed on the track. Her fingers work at the laces, looping them through and preparing them. And when she’s just about to set them back into the box, a small parchment inside catches her eye.

 

Purple and flowery--familiar.

 

The heartthrob tilts her head, curious. On it, written in cursive, is her name.

 

Carefully, Seulgi unfolds the parchment, reading its contents.

 

Seulgi,

 

I wrote this just in case I wasn’t able to say it in front of you. I want you to know that you’re worth it. When I heard you say that you weren’t, well, I didn’t like it. Especially because it isn’t true. Whoever told you that or whatever made you believe that--they’re wrong.

 

So I’m making you accept these shoes. I wanted to do at least one good thing for you. And since you love running, plus your other shoes were basically torn to shreds, I got you these.

 

I hope you like them!

 

- Irene

 

Seulgi bites her lips, folding the parchment back up. Rotating it in her hands, contemplating. As if hearing it wasn’t enough, Irene also wrote it down as a countermeasure.

 

So much effort for such a simple thing.

 

The heartthrob leans over the edge of her desk to throw the note away but she stops, staring at the purple parchment, tracing her name written in cursive by Irene’s own hand.

 

Such a simple thing.

 

And yet, Seulgi finds herself hiding the parchment in the front drawer of her desk.

 

Keeping it.

 

Saving it.

 

Just this one time.

 

She allows herself.

 

--

a/n: alright y’all, so i lied and this update ended up taking 3 months again OTL my bad. I at time management lol sorry for any typos or errors i might have missed in this update. anyways, i don’t have much to say really other than i hope you enjoyed the update, it’s a little longer than usual. And once again, i apologize for the wait. Also, i don’t usually say what’s going to happen in the next chapter but in case i take forever again, i’ll just let you guys know that yes, the track meet will finally happen in the next chapter haha. Other than that thank you to everyone for reading! A big thank you to all the subscribers, those who upvoted, everyone leaving a comment, and even the silent readers~ i’ll work hard for the next update.