“If you had a third ear, where would you put it?” 

 

Jimin’s brow furrows ever so slightly, and she pauses to look up from the piece of paper in her perusal. 

 

Her project partner stares back at her with wide, curious brown orbs; her lips cutely drawn in to form a pout. 

 

There’s the way Kim Minjeong’s upper body was sprawled across their study table that Jimin may have grated on her nerves a little, how her classmate would have failed to show some standard of proper behavior in a high school library.

 

Or maybe Jimin was just somewhat of an uptight, well-behaviored person. She liked to think proper posture and mannerisms in public were one of the nitty-gritty aspects of making a good impression.

 

She didn’t like how lazily Minjeong’s arms lolled about, the lack of surface area for stationary utensils and books, as well as notes for their project, but she couldn’t exactly find it in herself to scold the younger girl for it either. 

 

(Though the way her gaze would alternate between the book and the laid-back person every now and then would probably have been a dead giveaway to your normal perceptive person)

 

Jimin had a semblance of decency, after all. They barely knew each other, aside from glances in class, or the casual nod of acknowledgment whenever they passed by each other outside of the university, so she was not in any position to reprimand.

 

“I’d personally put it at the back of my head.” Minjeong declares after a moment of silence, noticing the absence of a response from Jimin’s side. “You know, for a surround sound effect.” 

 

(Jimin is genuinely torn on whether or not she should entertain the question so as to not embarrass her classmate. But then again, the inquiry in itself would require some semblance of critical thinking and there’s already barely enough for her to get through this assignment alone.)

 

“Well..” Jimin mutters under her breath, somewhat bewildered as she scratches her chin. “probably somewhere hidden? because it would seem kind of odd to see someone with a third ear.”

 

Her classmate only nods in agreement, a resounding hum escaping her lips. 

 

“Fair point,” Minjeong muttered as she stretched, eyes rolling back a little awkwardly before she breathed out a sheepish laugh. “Sorry, poor attempt at clearing the air.” 

 

The younger girl scratches her nape, a scarlet hue dusting her cheeks. 

 

And another bout of silence, as Minjeong plays with her fingers.

 

Not to seem like an overly self-centered person, but Jimin’s never really had the opportunity to inspect her classmate aside from the occasional once-over. 

 

Minjeong’s always had brown strands of hair tumbling down her shoulders, with those semi-thick rimmed glasses that probably wouldn’t have made her any more identifiable in a crowd of people. 

 

If given the opportunity to categorize, the younger girl definitely wouldn’t be in a class of bombastic personalities. 

 

She doesn’t stand out. 

 

Not that she tries to, anyway. 

 

Jimin has never noticed the girl’s softer features—the high, prominent cheeks, plump lips, and hooded eyelashes.

 

She guessed it was kind of difficult to do that when they weren’t exactly the closest of friends. 

 

No better time than now, she surmises, now that they were in a one-on-one kind of situation. 

 

“We’re good.” She tries to put on a reassuring tone, giving Minjeong a small smile. “It’s kind of cute, actually.”

 

The latter part might not have helped the color on the younger girl’s cheeks, but Jimin believes it kind of made her feel a little less anxious. 

 

“Anyway.” She coughs, “It’s about time we start discussing this project.”

_____________________________________________

 

Jimin liked to think she was a good judge of character. She liked to think every person could be read by their slight tendencies and subtle quirks, or how they’d choose to make themselves out to look like. 

 

Maybe it was just because she was kind of neurotic about impressions; How one would have to always dress for the occasion, maintain proper posture and smile politely when required. These were, to her, the hallmarks of what made a person attractive. 

 

You could read a person by how they chose to express themselves, Jimin would so confidently preach, but she never really expected to get one thing wrong about Minjeong. 

 

And that’s the fact that she clearly stood out. 

 

At least, in the eyes of some. One of her closest friends probably included. 

 

Maybe one could call her a little dense, or somewhat self-absorbed because if anyone knew who Choi Jisu had feelings for, it should have been Yoo Jimin. 

 

But here she was, a witness to Kim Minjeong flashing what seemed to be a bashful, toothy dimpled grin; with the slight crinkle in the eyes, and Jimin could have sworn there was this pinkish tint to the hue of the younger girl’s skin. 

 

(Right then and there, she may have internally rolled her eyes.)

 

Minjeong gives Jimin a casual glance and a wave, before pulling a chair over right next to Jisu, attention fully stuck on the girl, quite comparable to that of an innocent puppy. 

 

“Hi, uhm. Are you free after school?” 

 

Jisu flashes a small smile in turn, a little less obvious with the way she had portrayed this sense of giddiness on her face; but Jimin knew anyway. 

 

And she couldn’t care less, whatever these two did together was not any of her business anyway. 

_____________________________________________

It was particularly bright that day, Jimin surmised. She noticed the sun’s glare from the window, a stream of light diagonally bounding, then covering Minjeong’s left side with a soft luster. 

 

She wonders if it’s just a coincidence that their teacher happened to place the younger one in front of her while assigning seating arrangements, but she wasn’t complaining. It wasn’t as if she had a personal vendetta against Minjeong anyway.

 

When class ends, The younger girl turns around to wave at her; flashing a small, dimpled smile. 

 

It wasn’t exactly picturesque, but she found it enticing; how the yellow hues from the light seemed to compliment her face really well. Somewhat like a warm portrait. 

 

Jimin waves back, though a little bewildered.

 

“We can share answers.” Minjeong whispers loudly, and Jimin cringes at what seemed to be a poor attempt at being sneaky. 

 

“I don’t share answers.” She then huffs, feeling her brow twitch. “I’ll be fine on my own.”

 

“Oh.” The younger mouths, a little dejected. “Sorry.” 

_____________________________________________

“Hey.”

 

Jisu nudges her out of her reverie, and Jimin only realized then that she’d been staring blankly at what seemed to be the boy’s basketball team practicing out on the field.

 

Oh right, They were up on the bleachers, she’d think. Maybe her mind might have drifted off elsewhere, because this wasn’t exactly how she’d imagine spending the most of her Fridays. 

 

She didn’t get the “entertainment factor” to witnessing the opposite gender play ball down the field. Really, the idea alone felt a little .. tedious.

 

But one of the boys had invited her out to watch, and it wouldn’t have been nice to ghost on an offer she had taken up.

 

From a distance, the said boy perks up—as if on cue, and flashes a wide, genuine smile, the corners of his eyes creasing to form tiny crescents. Jeno waves brightly as if the exhaustion from practice was all temporarily lost in the moment. 

 

“Jeno’s waving,” Jisu remarks teasingly like it wasn’t an apparent fact. “He’s looking at you.” 

 

Jimin rolls her eyes.

 

“Thank you for stating the obvious.” 

 

A light pink tint starts to dust her cheeks, and a foreign warmth starts to seep in from her neck. 

 

She doesn’t know if it’s out of embarrassment, or flusteration, but Jimin suddenly starts to feel this incessant urge to incessantly avoid Jeno’s gaze from then on. 

 

And there’s Jisu’s giggling that isn’t quite helping their situation right now. 

 

God, help me.

 

“You like him.” 

“No, I don’t.”

 

“Yes, you do,” Jisu affirms, a Cheshire grin plastered on her face. “You like him.”

 

“And you like Minjeong.” Jimin hisses out of frustration. 

 

The younger girl splutters, before falling back into silence.

 

And it kind of stumps the older. In all honesty, though she often acts like it doesn’t bother her the slightest, there’s always that one lingering thought at the back of her mind.

 

What’s so good about Kim Minjeong?

 

She’s ‘friendly’, but somewhat socially awkward. Jimin doesn’t like how timid she is, or how she asks weird questions that come from nowhere in particular. She does not appreciate how Minjeong fumbles with her words, or how her glasses are barely hanging onto the tip of her nose. 

 

“What do you like about her?” She turns to look at the younger girl to inquire, probably in some kind of attempt to sate her curiosity. 

 

Over at the field, from the corner of Jimin’s periphery, Jeno scores, and his teammate snakes an arm around him teasingly. 

 

“She’s nice, I guess.” Jisu remarks with a shrug. 

 

Is that it? Jimin felt her brow crease. 

 

Was the concept of “liking someone” that simple? 

 

Because even her, someone who kind of disliked the way Minjeong would carry herself in public; she could think of a lot more reasons to like the girl. 

 

“That’s boring.” She mumbled, a little perplexed.