Operation Toy Box
Club for Two
Suzy’s POV
I grunted under the stack of heavy books I had to carry as I tried to keep my head up and look dignified. I couldn’t let these rich wussies make me feel down just because I was one of the bourgeois (aka one of the middle-class that ate burgers. Hence the snobbish name.)
As I took a step forward, I felt something catch on my foot. What the-
“Whoa!!!!” I screamed as I face planted the floor. My books flew out of my hands and were landing all over the place. Then I heard a scoff and a giggle next to me.
“Did you see that? Oh my god, she’s so clumsy!”
“The low-life can’t even walk straight in this place, she thinks she owns the place? Hmph! Wannabe.”
“You’re so clumsy, you low-life. You think this place is for you? Just go back to where you came from!” my bully said as she stuck her chin in the air and flipped her hair. She was one of those prissy girls who pranced around in dyed, curled hair, heavy makeup, and golden jewelry.
“Oh shut up, you airhead,” I said, exasperated as I tried to stop my head from spinning. More importantly, were my books still intact? The last time they’d tried to mess with me a physics textbook had gotten caught in the crossfire. An $80 textbook at that. Content wise, I wasn’t sorry to see the textbook go. But money was another matter.
Eventually I realized something was wrong. There had been no response. What’s going on? Usually they snap back with some unintelligible airhead response. I looked around as I started to gather my books.
A sudden mass of squeals drew my attention to a bunch of fan girls who were gathering around the kingkas of WM High, B1A4. As usual, they looked like models that had walked right off the cover page of a magazine with their top-notch clothes and pretty faces.
Probably because they had just walked in from a photoshoot. Oh, the privileges of the pretty.
They walked by me and didn’t even help me, much less glance at me. I was used to this though. No one in this school paid attention to me unless they wanted to bully me.
I headed up to the library, but since my hands were full, I had to use my feet to open the library door. As the door slammed open, one of the library volunteers gave me a disapproving look. I would have smirked back, but the pile of books in my arms began to teeter dangerously. All the students who were passing by were giving me strange looks, snickering, or whispering and pointing at me. Not one offered to save me from this humiliation.
When I finally got through the door, I dropped off my books and made a beeline for the librarian’s office. Here resided my only living friend in this school, Song Joongki. He and I became good friends because I hung out in the library a lot with my books (the only friends I had before I met him). He had recently graduated college. He still looked like a freshman in college, which made it easier to approach him. He had flawless porcelain skin with rich dark brown eyes. His hair was a bit tousled, making it look like he had hastily fixed his hair in the morning, which was probably what happened. No one ever saw him, because he was always inside his office working on something. When he did come out, no one noticed him because he was a middle-class aka lowlife, just like me. Without the ‘please bully me’ vibes, of course.
I entered his office and found him concentrating on labeling some new imported books from France.
“Joongki!” I called loudly. He didn’t even pause in his work.
“JOONGKI!!!!” I half screamed. Alarmed, he perked his head up.
“What? Huh? Oh, it’s you, Suzy. How’s my favorite bookworm doing?” He winked. His winks were SOOO AWESOME!!!! I used to have spaz attacks when I saw them, but the effect of his winks on me had died down to quiet fangirling.
“Nothing much, except that this bookworm has come up with an awesome plan,” I said as I stuck my nose in the air.
“And what is it?” he raised an eyebrow.
“Well…so my mom has been nagging me to do some community service to make my résumé look better. I didn’t want to go around picking up trash, so I’m going to create a club!” I said, trying to use some aegyo. He looked at me suspiciously because he knew whenever I had to use aegyo, there was something I wanted. My aegyo was the queen of all aegyo, and he knew it. He shut his eyes as tightly as he could.
“And what does this club do?” he asked.
“It makes toys like stuffed animals and puzzles for children with cancer,” I said. Then I threw myself down on my knees and clasped my hands in a praying position.
“So can I borrow the extra storage room?” I asked, adding onto my aegyo mercilessly.
“The storage room?” he opened his eyes in surprise, then groaned at his foolishness. I added an extra sparkle in my eyes
“Yeah, sure,” he agreed. HAHAHA! AEGYO POWER!
I jumped up and gave him a bear hug.
“Hey, not too hard. I’m a fragile old man, lady,” he grunted.
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