"Wait—are you crying?"

          "What? No. I'm not." the combination of me being almost lost, meeting him here, and his question makes me even more distraught. Why does he think I'm crying? Is there something wrong with my eyes?

          "Your eyes are red."

          "I think it's the wind."

          "You haven't answered my question. What are you doing here?"

          I think fast, but I can’t seem to find something to say.

          "Aria, are you okay?"

          I look vacantly at the road in front of me, Do I look that obvious? I want to say yes, but I'd be lying.

          My chest suddenly hurts, and I slowly shake my head. "No." I say under my breath.

          "Actually I've noticed you from afar as I'm walking and you passed by your building without even seeing it. You had your head down all the time."

          Hadn't he called my name, God knows where I might end up walking. "I'm not in my right mind. I'll go back." I turn around. Jongin walks with me, and we say nothing for awhile.

          “Are you heading this way too?” I ask.

          “No. I’ll walk you there, and I’ll leave.”

          I grab my bag strap tighter, unsure of what to feel.

          We arrive in front of my building, and Jongin watches me as I go up the stairs on the entrance. "Thank you."

          He nods. "Feel better."

          I try to generate a smile. He gives back the smile, and with that, he walks away. I directly go to my unit, and go straight to my room. I lie down on my bed, and my eyes feel heavy and watery. I'm no longer excited about going home or shopping.

          But what's there to be concerned from this? Rumors are rumors, and comments about my eyes are actually expected. I should be used to this.

          I drag myself to my vanity table and remove my contacts. I look at my reflection in the mirror, and various things just swim in my mind. I continue to dwell in my thoughts for many minutes, and the doorbell wakes me up. I grab my sunglasses, and see through the peephole. Jongin? I take a deep breath as I hold the sunglasses in my hand, and set my voice.

          "What are you doing there?"

          "Can you open the door?"

          "I'm really sorry, but I want to be alone right now."

          "I'm just dropping by to give you something, I'll go right away."

          I furrow my brows. I hesitantly open the door, and Jongin hands me a paper bag.

          "It's for you."

          I look at the paper bag for a long time before finally receive it. Jongin mutters a short ‘bye’, and leaves. I manage to let out a thank you before he reaches the stairs in the end of the corridor.

          I get back inside and shake the bag lightly. What is this? There's a white box with the logo of a dessert shop near our school inside, and I open it. It's apparently a very pretty mini cake, with a macaron on top. I actually exclaim 'whoa' and turn to see the shut door. Kim Jongin? Gave me this?

          I'm staring at the purple colored cake, and realize I'm wearing a blouse with the color almost identical with that. I press my back to the sofa, and heave a sigh. He's being both the cause and the medicine.

          I put the cake in the fridge, and contemplate as I'm holding my phone. I should at least text him. I type every character carefully, and I can feel the thumping sound of my heart on my throat as I push 'send'.

Thank you for the cake. You didn't have to do this.

          The reply comes almost instantly.

It's nothing. Enjoy.

          I'm happy to receive this, but my mind steers off somewhere else. Is he doing this because of his past actions? Or purely a form of care as a friend? As for the latter... I'm not sure if we're friends at all. With those rumors outside, it's a bit difficult to me to regard him as one.

          But what about him? Does he know about the rumors? If he does, then he will also find it awkward to face me. Looking at what just happened, he might have not.

          My phone beeps again, and I jump on my seat for no reason.

Also, if you want, you can tell me what's troubling you. No pressure.

          I stare at that other reply from Jongin. Who does he think he is, being all heart-fluttering-inducing like this? My lips curl, and I open the fridge just to see the cake.

          The next day, my mood has gotten better and I'm happily going shopping with Mom at a mall. Probably a bit too happy, as Mom seems to notice.

          "You seem so happy, don't you?"

          "What? Of course, we're shopping."

          "I don't think that's why."

          "Oh, Mom, come on." I take a dress from the shelf and observe the details. "What are you expecting?"

          "Any interesting boys?"

          "Nah."

          "At least meet somebody as good as Liam. He was such a sweetheart, you guys dated for such a short time. Was it in tenth grade?"

          "He's happy now in Canada."

          "About the boy I saw you with last week... Did something happen?"

          I blink. "Why, suddenly?"

          "You said he wanted to talk to you."

          "Yeah, we met, and like I expected, he apologized. That was it."

          "And you forgave him?"

          "Of course, Mom. It's been years, and I barely remembered anything, I'll gain nothing by not accepting his apology."

          "Alright." Mom shortly responds. "Even so, don't get involved anymore with him."

          "Why?"

          "I'll get reminded of what happened."

          I'm ready to protest but I think it's better to be quiet now. If I react strongly, Mom will get suspicious. Also, her reasons are understandable.

          But Mom, that Kim Jongin kid is treating me so nicely, I think to myself as I exhale slowly. I can't just abruptly not talk to him anymore.

          "Oh, Aria, look at this outer wear. The color is exactly like your eyes.”

          Mom pulls a piece of clothes from somewhere, and I look at it. It’s indeed identical with my eyes’ color. My sight shifts to the nearest mirror, and I stare at my own reflection, with my black contacts.

          When I think of it again, the summer camp ruined my initial plan not to be exposed. Why did I decide to cover them in the first place anyway? I went through my school years just fine without contacts. I went to the places other than school freely without them. I could handle the stares and questions. But why can't I, now? Is it because I need to do it in daily basis?

          If I started wearing contacts just because it would be annoying to answer people’s questions, then it would be better to be annoyed. It’d be difficult at first at new places, but it will pass. It won’t last forever. Probably what I heard in the bathroom has some truth in it. People will get used to my eyes eventually.

          “Aria?” Mom’s voice shatters my thought. “So do you like this or not?”

          I look at the clothes Mom is holding, and smile. “Yeah. I’ll go with that.”

          I take the clothes, and look at its color. I just made two decisions.