I remember the first day he showed up in class like it was yesterday (because, actually, it did happen yesterday). To put it simply, everyone thought he was weird. But he was a good kind of weird. For a Theology professor, he had a pretty messed up sense of humor, not that I’m generalizing or anything. He was an odd one, he stood out and I guess I sort of admired him for that.

I remember he introduced himself as Lee Hyukjae, but if we wanted to call him by his American name (though, we were pretty sure he was in no way American), we could call him Spencer Lee. One minute, he announced to the whole class that he didn’t want to receive gifts on his birthday, and the next, he pretty much drilled into our heads that his birthday is the 4^th of April, not the 3^rd and certainly not the 5^th because that’s his first laptop’s “death anniversary”-- he doesn’t want to be reminded of it -- and that this year, his birthday falls on a Wednesday, so yes, class, we’d definitely be seeing each other on that day, but again, I don’t want the gifts, alright? We knew he wanted them.

I remember him discussing the grading system, a typical thing to do on the first day, and how he said, with a big smile on his face, that getting an A in the subject would be a piece of cake… and that getting an F was just as easy, so we could just take our pick, whatever, it’s your choice.

I remember a lot of things, to be honest, even things that a student probably shouldn’t remember about their teacher.

Like how his dark dress shirt was neat and obviously ironed well but, that one sleeve was pushed all the way up to his elbows and the other was just a few inches above his wrist; like how his eyes seemed on the verge of popping out of their sockets whenever he stressed something (i.e. birthday reminder); like how the side of his eyes would form soft wrinkles whenever he smiled.

And yeah, that smile.

It’s really, really weird that I remember that smile because what student remembers their teacher’s smile in perfect detail? And I most definitely should not be thinking about that smile.

But I do.

- - -

It’s been two weeks and I’m starting to think I’m slowly, but surely, turning into a girl.

I don’t know how that’s possible because I know I am and always have been human, a male human, and I can’t turn into a girl unless I’m some kind of a shape shifter which I’m not, because as I’ve said, I’m a human being. But there couldn’t be any other reason, aside from my male-to-female transformation, as to why I’m suddenly getting all giddy and excited when the clock strikes 3:50PM and I get out of my  Math 82 lecture room to head to my next class which is, surprise, surprise, Theology. There could be no other reason why I get impatient when we have to wait ten minutes, because he likes to come late. And there could be no other reason why for those ten minutes I’m all cranky and annoyed and then he shows up from the back door like he always does with that damn smile on his face, and then all the negative feelings dissipate.

He places his things on the teacher’s table, jumps onto the platform with a loud thud (he does that a lot because he thinks it’s a good way to wake us up), the boys chuckle and shake their heads at his antics and the girls giggle and I mentally curse at myself because, at that moment, I actually almost did what the girls in my class did.

I place my right hand on my left chest and I find myself starting to wonder when the s would come out.

“Are you alright? Is there something wrong with your chest?” my seatmate and close friend, Siwon, asks me and I shake my head no.

I feel slightly bad because that’s a lie; because there is something really, really wrong going on in my chest; because I feel rapid heartbeats pounding against my fingers; because my teacher just smiled once again after cracking some not-so-funny-but-quite-funny-because-it’s-Mr.-Lee joke.

Because, for a split second, that smile was directed at me.

- - -

I don’t make up some kind of fantasy world in which he likes me. I don’t even wish he does, in that kind of way, because that would make everything even worse than they already are, at least on my part.

Though I failed to notice the band on his left ring finger on the first day, I did on our second session, so I’m pretty sure he has a wife. And I know he has a son, too, because he likes to share stories about his personal life and he has recounted anecdotes about his son like only a million times. He says it’s to supplement our learning on whatever we were tackling but I know that’s partly bull because I can tell that he adores his son and loves to share that to the whole world, if he could.

And, really, I’m not in the slightest bit bitter about those things.

But, sometimes, just sometimes, he makes me wonder.

He makes me wonder what it would be like to see that smile every single day first thing in the morning. He makes me wonder what it would be like to have him come home to me after a long day of work. He makes me wonder what Sundays would be like with him, having the whole day to ourselves, if we would just sit around and be lazy asses, or go out and watch a movie and other couple-y things like that. He makes me wonder, much to my horror, what it would be like to hug him from behind, or have him hug me from behind, if he would nuzzle his nose against the back of my neck or simply lie his head on my shoulder; what it would be like to have those plump, pink lips on mine.

It’s disturbing, I know.

It freaks me out, too.

I’m not gay, I tell myself that every time I think about those things. And I know it’s true. I’m not attracted to other guys like I’m seemingly attracted to him. I went to a party a couple of times, after acknowledging the fact that I find him attractive, and I still look for s. When I hang out in the cafeteria, or the main lane, or the soccer field, I never check the guys out, not because I’m trying to prove something or that I’m used to checking girls out, but because, I know that I still like girls and I feel it.

But whether I’m really gay or not is not what matters, and it doesn’t change the fact that, among all the things that he makes me wonder, I wonder what it would be like to be with him, be his boyfriend or partner or whatever it’s called, the most. And the thought made me realize that if there was anyone worth fighting the world for, it would be someone who’s smart, funny, kind and understanding, someone who has a nice smile, deep, soft eyes, and a somewhat gentle air around them – someone like him.

Or just him.

- - -

I don’t know if I’m going crazy or not, but somehow, I’ve convinced myself that I can tell what his smiles mean.

I know that when his smile is so big that his eyes turn into mere slits and the sides of his eyes form wrinkles, he thinks something is really funny. That or he’s very happy about one thing or another.

I know that when it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, he’s either a) not feeling well, b) been having a rather bad day or c) seen some do something -y to someone (his words, not mine) and he just can’t seem to get it off his mind.

I know that when it’s just a slight upturn of his lips, but there’s that evident amused glint in his eyes, he finds something funny but it’s not really that funny so it doesn’t deserve his usual, blinding mega-watt smile.

And I know that I sound stupid, and these things probably belong to the “common sense” category so…

Maybe I am crazy because, while I’m facing the impending doom that takes the form of my term paper due in 72 hours and I’ve barely typed a hundred words down, all I think about are smiles, and smiles and smiles and what they could possibly mean like they’re so goddamn important they can’t wait until I get the stupid paper done.

Yes, indeed, I am crazy.

- - -

It’s April 4^th, a Wednesday, and I think the process of my turning into a girl has completed (still minus the s, though – I doubt they’d ever show up.)

I’m sitting in my Theology class, a small trinket sandwiched between my clammy fingers and even clammier palm. I look at the teacher’s table and he’s standing there, jokingly scolding the girls currently giving him their birthday presents for him. I wait for any of the other guys in my class to give  him something, but fifteen minutes into the class, none of them have stood up to approach Hyukjae (I only call him Hyukjae in my thoughts, I swear).

The class finally settles down, and he’s on teacher mode again. I usually listen to his lectures but right now, I can’t think of anything else besides the trinket in my right hand and I pray to God that none of the guys, especially the ever so persistent Siwon, notice this.

I decide, after meticulous planning in my head, to give it to him after class when it’ll be just the two of us. I tell myself it’s not really the smile that he’d give me once he receives the gift that I’m after, but it’s really because I don’t want to throw it away and waste money and quite a good amount of effort in the process.

But when the bell rings, and everyone’s gone, even Siwon who, for almost a gazillion times asked me if I really didn’t want him to wait for me outside. He’s busy collecting his things and I just sit in my chair, as if waiting for him to look up and notice that someone still hasn’t left yet.

And he does, he does look up and my brain goes blank and I feel the sweat on the back of my neck and I panic inside. Suddenly, I don’t know what to do.

“Is there something you want to discuss with me, Donghae?”

, he knows my name.

I feel the heat on my cheeks and I mentally slap myself for being such a girl. I stand up from my seat and begin to inch towards his teacher’s table and he waits for me to speak up, his eyes focused on me. I finally reach his table and I squeeze the trinket once, twice, before I open my hand and place the item on the wooden table.

“It’s a small airplane, carved out of wood.”

He smirks, and nods, “I can see that.”

“Uh… I know you said you didn’t want to receive gifts so… I made that, for your son,” I tell him and he blinks his eyes in a cute manner (, what do I mean cute?) and then the smirk is replaced by his signature smile and I think that smiles says something like, “oh, wow, really?”

 “I remember the story about how he wants to be a pilot someday, so I made that for him. I wish you a happy birthday, Sir, but that’s not for you, so make sure you give it to him.”

“Thank you, Donghae. I love it.”

“But, I told you, it’s for your son,” is my confused answer.

“I know.”

I raise my eyebrows at him and he laughs, taking the trinket in his hands, his thumb running over the surface of the wooden miniature airplane. “Then why…?”

“The smile he’s going to give me will definitely be my best birthday gift this year.”

And I nod and a grin breaks through my face before I can help myself because I understand, because that’s exactly how my father was like with me before he died. When I was young, I thought my dad was the best dad in the world, and I still do, but there’s something else that I learn some twenty odd years later as I watch Hyukjae smile at the trinket like it’s worth a couple billions of won.

Sorry, Dad.

It’s a tie.

- - -

“Hey, isn’t that Mr. Lee?”

I follow Siwon’s line of vision (not that I had to) and just as I expected, there he was holding the grocery cart handle like how I did, with a pretty woman by his side scanning the back of a baby formula. I nod my head wordlessly because there’s nothing much to say. I don’t tell Siwon that we’ve been following the couple for about ten minutes now, much to my manipulation since I had the grocery cart.

I don’t want Siwon to notice now so when Hyukjae and his wife reach the end of the aisle and turn to the right side to go to the next, I don’t follow them anymore. I let Siwon do the leading this time and I follow like a lost puppy, pushing the cart wherever my roommate wanted to go.

“You like him, don’t you?”

“Who?”

“Mr. Lee.”

I stare at him in disbelief and shake my head vigorously. “What? No!” What seemed like an innocent question turned into a suspicious interrogation. My friend raises his eyebrow in a way only he could and gives me a strange look I couldn’t quite understand.

“Really? I thought everyone liked him. I like him. Even Heechul hyung showed a semblance of liking towards him. You’re probably his first anti-fan,” Siwon says with a shrug, and turns back to the seemingly endless line of assorted ketchup and I resist the urge to smack him upside the head, not because it always takes him eons to pick a bottle of ketchup and yet he always chooses the same one every time they do food shopping, but because the guy just scared him unnecessarily with that stupid question.

He could have been more specific as to in what manner I liked the teacher. The way he posed the question was like how he would ask me if I like the girl in the pink shirt or something like that. Or maybe I’m just being a paranoid .

Oh. Oh. So that’s what he actually meant.

“I’m not his anti-fan,” I say after a while, getting the ketchup we always get every month and spare myself the torture of having to wait for him any longer. “I like him as a teacher. I thought you were asking me if I liked him that way…”

The Si-brows get into action again and I almost laugh if not for the question that he asks me a beat too soon. “Why would you think I meant it like that?”

Yeah, idiotHae, why?

“Nothing. I don’t know,” I answer as seemingly unaffected as I could and I thank my natural talent in acting or Siwon’s obvious obliviousness to pretty much anything that isn’t explicitly revealed when he just nods.

“Isn’t it kind of sad though?”

“What is?”

“That we only have about a month left with him.”

Strange. That’s what I feel. Just strange because when you don’t know how you feel, you just call it strange.

“Who knows? Maybe he teaches Theology 103, too, so we might have a chance of getting him in junior year. Don’t worry.” I take a moment to wonder if I’m still talking to Siwon or if the statement was more for myself but then a look of understanding passes through my friend’s face so maybe it’s for the two of us.

Or I don’t know. I just don’t know because there’s still that strange feeling in my chest and I can’t get rid of it.

“Yeah, but I heard from the upperclassmen he only teaches 101 and 102.”

Especially after that.

I want to tell him that you shouldn’t be such a worrywart and why the hell are you so interested in Mr. Lee anyway? I want to stop thinking about the last day because why should I? I still have a month left and a month means twelve more meetings and that’s about twelve hours. Twelve long hours.

But in the scheme of things, twelve hours… twelve hours is nothing.

But that nothing seems to mean everything now.

- - -

Here are facts about me (accompanied with slight ranting):

I love my school.

I love the tall trees lined up at the side of the main lane, giving shade to the students, like myself, seated on the wooden benches while we pretend to study for some test when everyone knows we’re actually just there to people-watch.

I love the relatively big chapel located at the heart of the campus where the faculty and staff and students and even outsiders could visit at any time of the day; it’s the perfect place for me to just relax and bask in the silence and utter solemnity.

I love the huge soccer field behind the chapel that, much like the main lane, provided me a good view of students heading to the Agriculture and Arts and Sciences Buildings, some rushing and others taking their time, seemingly deep in thought and enjoying the cool air that brushed against their skin.

I love (some of) my competent instructors who not only focus on the academics and intellectual development, but give almost of equal importance to what they call the emotional quotient of their students.

I love my school. Really.

But if there is one thing – just one thing – that I hate about it, more than I hate the cafeteria that never seems to have enough tables and chairs for everyone at any given time, it would be the fact that my school requires us to take Theology for four semesters. I mean, alright, maybe I don't hate it; hate is too strong a word to describe what I feel about this. Maybe it's more of a dislike... a strong dislike, but not strong enough to call it hate. And I get it, really. I go to a Catholic university and taking Theology classes is a given, but four semesters? I have nothing against my religion (yet), and I have always believed in God, but spending about 20 months of my entire college life learning pretty much the same things over and over and over again isn't exactly something I'd like to do.

Here’s another fact about me:

I’m not so sure anymore if I still believe in the fact just before this one.

- - -

I wish time would stop.

But it doesn’t.

His voice booms within the four walls of the lecture room, and it lingers, and every word seems to embed itself in every corner of the room including ourselves. But louder than his voice, louder than anything else in the world, is the sound of the ticking clock, the hands of time that just keeps on moving and moving and moving… One second turns to two and two turns to three, the process continues without a halt and suddenly, the end is not so far away anymore.

 “Sooooooo, I’m getting this nagging feeling that none of you are listening to me. I get that my voice probably sounds annoying now and you’re probably thinking can this man just shut up and get it over with. Don’t look so shocked, I’ve been there,” he says, and where a disapproving frown should be seen is marked with a small smile instead and I can tell that behind the gesture is a tiny feeling of sadness.

While everyone looks like they’ve been caught, I look and don’t feel guilty at all. No, I don’t think his voice is annoying; never did, never will. No, I don’t want him to shut up and get it over with, in fact, I want him to talk forever and go right back to the beginning, to the time when he talked about how Jesus wants to be the liberator and all of the other blah blah blahs.

“You know what? Why don’t we just do some kind of question and answer because it’s too early to dismiss you. I realized you don’t know much about me and I guess I’d like to share myself a little, I know you all want a piece of me.”

It’s a joke, Donghae, I tell myself because everyone laughs. Is it really funny? I don’t know, but I laugh anyway.

A hand shots up and Hyukjae smiles a real smile, calling the student’s name.

“Do you think is a given in relationships before marriage?”

The whole class goes crazy because what the hell, you don’t ask things like that in a Theology class, and although we know that our teacher knows better, we like to pretend he doesn’t.

Hyukjae brings a hand up to his chin and he ponders on the question before answering cautiously. “Well, I’ve always thought that when you enter a relationship, you open your heart to someone, not your legs.”

 “So you’re saying you waited?!” and the whole class erupts in hoots and ooohs and ahhhs, and Hyukjae looks a bit embarrassed but he laughs.

“So that’s what you really wanted to ask in the first place. Well, to answer your question, no, I didn’t wait and I don’t regret it. I didn’t do it because I felt it was a given, I did it because I love her.”

The teasing ensues and doesn’t stop until another hand is raised up in the air. The next questions proved to be “uncontroversial” like the first one, and I learn that he likes the color black (not that I haven’t noticed that anyway), his first kiss was in primary school, his first love was in middle school, he used to date a celebrity but he won’t say who (everyone thinks it’s a lie, I believe him for whatever reason), he likes to eat kimchi and japchae the most, he’s been to Paris once, he has a sister who’s unmarried and if anyone is interested in older women, he has her number up for grabs, his favorite milk, juice, and ice cream flavor is strawberry.

It’s not until the last five minutes of the session that another seemingly too-personal question gets asked.

“Have you ever been in a relationship with the same ? Or been attracted to one, at least? And what do you think about homouality?”

Damn.This just has to be asked…

“I’ve never been in a relationship with the same , and I’ve never been attracted to one… And what is there to think about? I’ve always believed that, before anything else, God wants us to love, even our enemies…” He trails off and for a moment, I thought his eyes were on me but I know it’s just my imagination. It has to be because he’s not supposed to know anything.

 “I know scholars have pointed out what the Bible says about this, but the fact stands that we are to love. So it’s not hard for me to accept that people of the same gender can love each other that way…”

The bell rings and instead of the door, everyone heads to Mr. Lee. I watch the scene from afar, everyone giving him their thanks for what they learned the past semester, and Hyukjae is nothing but smiles and wrinkled eyes.

I take a picture of that look with my head and paste it on my wall of memories so I’ll be able to remember it as long as I can.

- - -

A year passes and, true enough, I got two different teachers for the next two semesters for my Theology subjects because Hyukjae doesn’t teach anything higher than 102. I still see him in school, and whenever I’m close enough, I manage to send him a short bow and a quick hello.

I can say that I’ve gotten over it. Well, at least a part of it because I still think of him and his smiles that mean a million things. At least, I’ve realized that it wasn’t love or anything near that. It was just a crush. Everyone goes through that, right? Crushing on your teacher?

I don’t want to think about this, but I do. I do because it’s raining and I’m inside a cozy café just a few blocks from the University and he’s here. For some reason, he’s here and I notice he doesn’t have an umbrella with him so he’s just as stuck in this place as I am.

I wait until he notices me before I muster up the courage to collect my things and ask him if we could share the table. He agrees, he’s getting pretty freaking bored, too, he admits.

“So how are your studies going along?”

“…Okay, I guess?”

He nods and he seems to be waiting for him something else but I don’t say anything anymore and he frowns. “You’re no fun after all. Go back to your table.”

I’ve spent five months with him so I know when he’s joking so I tilt my head to the side and laugh and he does the same, before taking a bite from his strawberry shortcake. “How’s… how’s your son? And the airplane I gave him?”

“I don’t remember telling you about the smile he gave me! The reaction was great, Donghae. He loved it just as much as I did.”

So he still remembers my name.

“I’m glad. I worked hard on that.”

“You really were the one who carved it?”

“My friend did, but I swear I helped!”

“Alright, I believe you.” I know he doesn’t, but I also know it doesn’t make him feel less thankful for what I had done so I’m okay.

After this, I know I’m going to be okay for a long time.

- - -

The rain stops and we get up from our chairs. We spent about half an hour just talking about anything that pops into our heads and although we don’t talk as if we’ve been friends forever and ever, it’s still a special conversation about nothing and everything.

We walk to the bus stop because that’s where I have to be and even though he has to go back to the University, he walks me to the bus stop, says it’s on the way so it’s alright. We don’t say anything as we reach the bus stop and wait for the vehicle, nothing but the cool air and the silence between us but I don’t mind. It’s a nice kind of silence.

A nice kind of silence that encourages me to say what I really want to say. I subtly take a deep breath and I feel the words on the tip of my tongue.

“Sir… I,” and I stop because he’s looking at me and that kind of shaves off a good amount of the encouragement I got from the silence. “I… really… really…

…had fun last semester. We all did.”

I liked you. I like you. So much.

“I had a lot of fun, too, Donghae. Thank you.”

I nod. I don’t look at him as the bus arrives and I enter the vehicle. Before the bus starts to move again, I dare myself to look at him and there’s that smile, one I haven’t seen before but I could tell it’s among the millions of meanings his smiles could have and it says

I know.

* * *

A/N: Because I needed to get this out. What do you think? XD

edit;

over a year after i write this, hyukjae goes to oxford as a lecturer and i justttttttt

HELP

(though i imagined my professor lee hyukjae not having a lot of rings/acessories hohoho)