My next lesson was math. Just my luck. This time, the teacher was present, and I was forced to repeat my this time rather shaky introduction before I clumisly stumbled to my table at the right back of the class. I shared my desk with another beautiful male homo sapiens. I swear to god, this school was full of beautiful people. Just like me, hehe. 

His name was Luhan. He had a rather bowl-shaped hair cut and his hair was dyed into a dirty blonde, which I thought suited him perfectly. His Korean was quite good, but I could still hear the evidence of a faint Chinese accent. I tried communicating with him using, yet again, Chinses symbols, but we ended up just throwing each other confused looks. I did however find out that he was an exchange student from Beijing, and about two months youger than me. Still, he wanted to be adressed as oppa. Dear lord, I look so incredibly retarded when saying that. Anyways.

Towards the end of math class, Luhan pushed over the sheet of paper which I had scribbled on thousands of failed kanji with one simple sentence. 'Dinner?'

My bright smile fell. Sure, Luhan was an incredibly fun, intelligent (not to mention good looking) guy and despite the language barrier, we had laughed a lot in the lesson. But i had promised to go visit Lay at seven. I gave him an apologetic face and shook my head slowly whilst mumbling a 'Sorry'. he looked disappointed, but scribbled an eight on the sheet. 'Visit me?' He said in English, grinning, and my heart collapsed at his sweetness. I found myself accepting with a bright smile, even though I know my time management this evening would be awkward as heck. I would have time for dinner with Lay but would have to storm out about an hour after. And time goes by quickly here.

After the lesson, which was my last, I quickly pulled out an apple I had left in that backback since a week or two. It was soft and mushy, but I had missed lunch and stores where closed, therefore there was nothing to eat. Back in my room, everything was quiet. No sound was heared form the hallway. I sighed and looked around my room. It was rather spacy form a sigle bedroom. The floor was wooden, in a soft, light orange-y tone. Also, it seemed that someone had cleaned the room thoroughly before my arrival; the floor was so polished and shiny that I could make out the traces of myself in the floorboards. The rest of the room was in a simple style; wood and white plastic. White plastic desk, white wardrobe, white porcelain tap and mirror; a wooden bed with white linen. However, the room, despite all its anonymity still looked more luxurious than you would have expected from a drom room. Especially for one person. I sighed I walked to wards the white wardrobe. The sliding doors where made of mirrors, which apparently was meant to be practical and save space. 

My hair could only bedescribed as a greasy, streaky ball of fur. I have no idea how it was possible for it to be greasy and dry at the same time, but yes, it was that bad. I took a streak of my hair and twirled it around my finger. My hair was short. Very short for a girl. At front, the left side was long, almost halfway down my neck went that one strand of black hair. The rest was chin-lenght or shorter, chopped and rasped off at different lenghts in places where I had gotten annoyed by the tickilng sensation against my neck. My normally ice blue eyes were bloodshot and my eyelashes stuck together like superglue. It was a miracle that I was even able to open my eyes. I had also lost weight. The stress of past few months had worn me out and I could see a lot more of my cheek bones than was healthy. My face was red and sticky, old sweat stuck on it. I poked at my hips, my chest. Non-exsistent. Actually, I was a 38A. AA at times. It was devestatingly difficult to find a bra in that size, so I usually ended up staling mom's bandages and binding my chest away. In addition to that, I preferred wearing the boy's school uniform. It's not that I hat skirts, not at all. I actually look quite, ehem, attractive in one. I just don't like today's trend of pencil skirts and pulling them up until everyone can see what you are wearing underneath. Oh yeah and the jackets are to big for me as well. I mean, up-top-wise. I guess I was what people call a 'tomboy'. I mean, I have been called 'hot' by several girls. Which I quite liked.

After seeing the mess that I was, I decided to take a long, hot shower. Afterwards, I would read some of 'Twelfth night', which we were apparently taking in English Literature. Luckily, the teachers had been merciful and not assigned me any homework on my first day. Just some reading to catch up on. Luckily, I was smart, so  didn't think I would have to try very hard these coming weeks. I finished my mental to-do list, wrapped a towel around my bare figure and strutted to the shower rooms, shampoo and hygine stuffs in hand.