another one of those stories where you'll read and end up being like "wtf evie...what.the.eff." so if you want to avoid those moments I suggest you not read this.

“Sungyeol, can you please come up here for a second?”

                The entire class froze, everybody looking up from the worksheets. It had been silent almost half a minute ago, and now the only sound echoing through the class was the top student’s chair squeaking as he pushed it out.

                It was the last person anybody would expect to be called up to the teacher’s desk – Lee Sungyeol. From the beginning of high school – no, wait, scratch that. From the beginning of all time, Sungyeol had been the one student all teachers begged to have (he was the only one that bothered listening to them), the one kid all parents wanted to have (he didn’t lie and choose a drunkard party on Friday night over family bonding), the one person all failing teens begged to have the grades of (what could he say, he actually studied).

                But this was so unexpected. The only reason Lee Sungyeol would ever be called up was for an award, or for a congratulatory gift, or to announce to the class that he’d gotten another 100% and the subsequent rant of Why aren’t you all as diligent as he is?!

                That wasn’t the case, though, and the teacher’s voice, completely sunk with disappointment, proved just that.

                “Y-yes?” Sungyeol whispered once he reached the side of his teacher’s desk. The class, although feigning concentration on their work, leaned forward as far as possible to hear anything of the conversation.

                “Sungyeol…we need to talk.” The man sighed once again, reaching up his left hand to pull down his reading glasses and look at his best student with scared eyes. “About your…grades.”

                “My grades?” the teen rushed hurriedly. “What about my grades? I’ve been trying really hard, saeng, I swear. I haven’t done anything wrong –“

                “It’s not that, Sungyeol. I’m not worried about your academic grades – that’s nothing any teacher has to be worried about, to be quite frank. It’s just…” he paused once again, breathing in as he pulled both his hands onto a tight knot above the table. “As your homeroom teacher, I’m responsible to see if you have enough credits to pass high school.”

                “Do I not? I’ve been taking countless amount of summer classes –“

                “Sungyeol, I already told you. It doesn’t have anything to do with your academic grades,” the teacher interrupted.

                “Then what? What have I been doing wrong so far?” Sungyeol asked. Despite any image he ever put up, he was, after all, a kid. He’d been by far now used to the compliments from teachers, the expectant of 100%’s on each test, but he still doubted himself no matter what. It was just something he was born with, and something he couldn’t ever get rid of.

                It was just as long as he could keep up a confident face, he’d be okay.

                “Your…” the man hesitated for a second, then continued. “Your physical education credits. Sungyeol, you do realize that for all four years, you haven’t even gotten on point for that class?”

                The worried look on Sungyeol’s face faded a bit, dying with the word physical education. “Oh. That. But saeng, I’ve been in that class for all my high school years! I have to have – “

                “Sungyeol, you obviously don’t understand the point of physical education. You get credits for effort, that’s all the class is. You’ve shown absolutely no effort whatsoever, so you got not points.”

                “Because it’s physical education,” Sungyeol muttered, looking down at the ground and playing with the fringed edges of his teacher’s desk. “I don’t like physical education.”

                “Well you have to, Sungyeol. You don’t have enough credits to pass high school.”

Four years, Sungyeol thought, a lump forming in his throat. Four years.

                Do you know how long four years is?! He dedicated one period out of all those school days in four years, yet he still can’t manage to get enough points to pass the class?

                This was preposterous. This wasn’t right. It couldn’t be right, it just wasn’t fair. He’d killed himself each day throwing balls into hoops and sliding on dirt for what? Nothing?!

                “On your marks, kids!” the Gym teacher shouted, his mouth ready on the whistle. He clapped his hands once to get all the students in Sungyeol’s 2^nd period Gym class’s attention, attempting to arrange them into one straight line.

                Sungyeol’s eyes shrunk all the way around the track – what was that, like, fifty kilometers? Was he supposed to run that much? They wanted to kill him. Yep, this was all their plan, it was to kill him slowly by making him run, and when he didn’t, they took the most important thing away from him – his education.

                Dammit these stupidly smart people.

                “GO!” the coach screamed. The whistle sounded, and all the boys took off running around the track, some starting off with a light jog and the others dashing their way through.

                Sungyeol?
                Sungyeol just started walking.

                From the side, the Gym teacher watched with exasperated eyes. Everyday, every damn day he worked at this school, he’d have to witness Lee Sungyeol – the one student all the teachers loved to admire and begged to have – just lazily walking off the track like it was no big deal.

                He let go of his whistle, allowing it to fall down his neck, and jogged slowly to where Sungyeol was. The teen kicked a rock before him, leisurely taking his time while more than half of the class was already finished with their conditioning.

                “Sungyeol – hey, Sungyeol,” the coach said, standing in front of the student. “Look, son, you need to show more effort in this class.”

                Sungyeol’s eyebrows raised and his nose wrinkled. “Effort?”

                “You’re acting as if you’ve never heard the word before,” the man laughed. “Look, I’ve been trying to help you through all these years, but I’m pretty sure you homeroom teacher already talked to you about this. There’s no way to pass high school if you don’t at least try in this class.”

                “But I am trying,” Sungyeol shrugged. “You should be lucky I’m even bothering to walk right now. Usually, I just sit on the grass and pretend that a certain hell called ‘Physical Education’ doesn’t exist.”

                Doing his best to ignore the boy’s last comment, the teacher grabbed his arm and walked him over to the bench, which was about six feet away from the track.

                “We haven’t had to do this since summer of ’88, but I’m afraid we have to now.” Forgetting the student’s confused look, the man continued on. “Look, son, you’re a good kid. Everybody tells me that, it’s all over the teacher’s lounge. They talk about how you always dedicate so much time into studying and school activities. Then there’s the dedication with your projects and the effort in your homework – but then it comes to my class.”

                “Physical education is a useless class,” Sungyeol blankly stated. “Do you think I’m going to get hired to a high ranking position in business because I can run a 7-minute mile? I’m sorry, but I don’t really think anybody’s that stupid.”

                The coach groaned, reminding himself over and over again that he had gotten himself into this. “Sungyeol, your attitude, too. Your attitude isn’t going to get your anywhere –“

                He stopped when he realized that the boy wasn’t even listening to him, instead focusing on what seemed to be a much more interesting grass patch.

                “Fine, you know what, fine. If that’s how you want to do it, we’ll do it this way.” The man stepped back, slightly pushing on Sungyeol’s shoulder as to tell him to stand up. “Come to my office, we’ll have a talk.”

                “Your office?” he heard Sungyeol murmur from behind him as they got up to walk. “I didn’t think gym teachers got paid enough to have their own office.”

                “Yes, I have my own office!” the man shouted without looking back, instead focusing on pulling open the door in front of him. “And this is it. Sungyeol, kid, why don’t you take a seat? We’ll have a little talk.”

                Sungyeol, now completely oblivious to his surroundings, dragged his feet into the room and plopped onto one of the cushioned-covered seats in front of a pretty boring brown desk.

                “Your office reminds me of a jail cell.”

                “Well your face reminds me of an obese, unhealthy grown up,” the coach offered, smiling sarcastically as he settled himself down onto his desk, turning on his computer.

                “Whatever,” Sungyeol said beneath his breath, fingernails tapping on the edge of the chair as he observed the cement ground.

                When he had opened Sungyeol’s profile, the gym teacher coughed and looked up at the teen. “Look, son, according to my records, we only have one semester of school left. And you need two years of physical education credits to pass high school – that’s four semesters.”

                “I know how many semesters two years is,” Sungyeol sneered because as of right now, smarts was the only thing he had.

                “That’s not exactly the point, is it? The point is that you don’t have enough time or credits to pass high school.”

                “Yeah, we kinda already established that.”

                The teacher gritted his teeth, looking up more students on his computer. Really, was this the ever-so-polite Lee Sungyeol that all the other staff bragged about? Because he obviously wasn’t seeing it.

“Look, Sungyeol, do you want to pass high school or not?”

                “…Yeah.”

                “Fine. Well then, I’ve got a plan for you.” The teacher sat himself at the edge of the seat, looking at the now, somewhat interested boy. “We did this a while back, years before you were even born, but it worked out pretty well. So you see, there are a lot of other…well, more active students in this school. They can help you. And what I mean by that is, something like a one-on-one private tutor. Classes after school, private sessions during your Gym period. That student will try to help and motivate you more, maybe improve you and get some energy into your lifeless soul! Then, by the end of the year, if they decide that you’ve been doing well, you’ll get the credits for physical education.”

                Sungyeol’s mind considered the option for a tiny second until a little though appeared. “Wait…why don’t you just watch over me?”

                “First of all, I don’t think you’re too fond of me. And I’m not too fond of you either,” the teacher added. “Right, and I don’t get paid for it, so no.”

                “Oh, you’re an amazing teacher.”

                “Well you’re an awful student, so it kind of makes up for it.” The teacher pulled his jacket up a bit, then looked at Sungyeol. “So you in or out?”

                “I’ll do it. I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

                “Good thinking,” the coach nodded. “Well, my lacrosse team is off-season as of right now, so all the boys would be free to teach you. Give me a second, let me look them up…”

                As he typed on his keyboard, he asked Sungyeol, “Would you like anybody in particular? That could help you?”

                “I don’t hang out with lacrosse players,” Sungyeol snapped. “I hang out with books.”

                “Okayyyyyy then…” the older male looked down the list at the available lacrosse players, then to the right at their grades. “C…C+…C-….C…B-…C…C+…C-…C-…why do all of them have such awful grades?!”

                “See, I told you physical education downgrades your intelligence.”

                “Oh, be quiet. B-…oh look, a B! Wait, no, that’s a B-…B-…C-…C…C…C+…C…A…C-…wait, A?!”

                “Look-y there, you found someone that isn’t a disgrace to the human world!” Sungyeol cheered, sitting up straight on his chair.

                “I thought I told you to be quiet, Sungyeol,” the coach said. “Look, you see, he – wait, who…Myungsoo?”
                “Myungsoo?” Sungyeol raised his eyebrows, for the name was just slightly familiar.

                “Kim Myungsoo. He has a straight 4.0 in classes. How…well, I’ve just found the perfect match for you! He can teach you without asking to copy off your homework!”

                “Great, just tell me when I have to go die.”

“‘Come to the gym at lunch’?” Myungsoo read, squinting his eyes. He glanced up momentarily, sending the student messenger away. The girl nodded, then skidded out of the classroom.

                “You have to go where at lunch?” Woohyun asked, looking over his shoulder behind him.

                “The gym. Coach wants me to, for some reason.”

                “Oh!” Dongwoo piped up from the back corner of the classroom. “I think basketball tryouts are today. Maybe Coach wants you to try out for that.”

                “But I at basketball,” Myungsoo cringed. “He knows that.”

                “Maybe he wants to see if you’ve improved?” Sunggyu offered, outreaching his hands to see the note. “Besides, you never know if you don’t go.”

                “Hey, that rhymes!” Hoya pointed out, clapping as he stole a chip from Woohyun’s backpack.

                “Yeah, well, lunch already started,” Myungsoo shrugged, standing up from his seat. He gave his home-made lunch from his mother a sad glance, then pushed it towards Sungjong. “Here, eat it. Lord knows you need some meat in your bones.”

                “It’s called going on a diet, if you didn’t know,” the younger boy complained, though he obliged to take it because nobody could ever pass up Myungsoo’s mom’s cooking.

                “Diet?! Are you kidding me, you weight like 20 pounds –“

                “Hyung, please, I weigh 92.”

                “92?! What the , are your parents even feeding you at home?!”

                Myungsoo snickered as he walked down the hallway, shaking his head as he heard little snippets of his friends’ daily argument. It was only when he appeared at the front of the Gym door that he realized he could no longer hear them.

                He pushed the doors open with ease, mainly because of his *coughcough* defined muscles that hadn’t been put to use in months due to the off-season of his sport.

                It was all dark, as usual, but Myungsoo could still make out the hazy figure of a basketball hoop. From where he was standing, he could also hear faint feet-tapping noises.

                Slowly, he walked towards the sound – which was somewhere on the bleachers – and found a quiet boy sitting at the lowest step by himself.

                “Um – uh – hi?” Myungsoo tried, stepping closer.

                The boy looked up, eyes wide as he failed to stand up. Myungsoo slowly examined his arms and legs, deeming them long enough for a basketball player. (And – if he daresay – the guy was pretty good looking, too. Somebody Myungsoo would consider going out with if these circumstances weren’t so desirably embarrassing).

                “Are, um, these the basketball tryouts?” Myungsoo asked nervously, playing with his hands in an awkward manner because he really wasn’t too good with strangers.

                “Uh…no?” the stranger answered back, waving his arms around as if to say it’s dark and there’s nobody else in here but me, what do you think?!

                “Oh. Oh. Okay, I’m sorry. This was a mistake then, obviously – I didn’t meant to bother you! Sorry –“

                “No, Myungsoo, you’re fine. Please stay.”

                At the familiar sound of his coach, Myungsoo let out a loud sigh of relief and turned around, hand tightened on his chest. The lights flickered on and the man walked over to him.

                “Thanks for coming, by the way,” Coach grinned. “Although you should’ve known these weren’t the basketball tryouts. You aren’t exactly my first pick for the sport.”

                “And besides, why on earth would I ever be at an athletic tryout?!” the stranger, still sitting on the bleacher, snorted.

                “Very true,” Coach agreed. “But now, now, don’t scare Myungsoo too much.”

                He walked over to stand next to the boy, making sure not to stand too close because he didn’t exactly want to be in close proximity to the exercise-hating boy.

                “Myungsoo, meet Lee Sungyeol. He’s gonna be under your care for a while – a long while.”

                As if having ignored everything else his coach had said, Myungsoo let his mouth fall into an ‘O’ shape as he asked, “You’re Lee Sungyeol? My science teacher was talking about your science fair project that scored first in state last year! How ironic is that?”

                “Not too ironic. I’m planning to score first this year too.”

                The smile abruptly fell off Myungsoo’s face as he turned to his coach. “And why exactly do I have to spend time with him?”

                “Sungyeol’s smart, you know that, right?” Coach began.

                “Well, yeah. He scored first for the science fair project –“

                “And this year I will too, please don’t forget that.”

                “ – and this year too.”

                “Uh huh, yeah, well he has this thing where he absolutely despises physical education and everything that comes along with it,” Coach continued. “So basically, he has no credits for the elective and therefore, cannot graduate high school. That’s where you come in. From now until the end of the year, I want you to help him with that. If he approves, under your judgment, then he’ll be able to have the credits for all four semesters.”

                “It wasn’t my idea – I just want to get high school over with so I can go to college and get a degree to prove that I’m smarter than everybody else.”

                “Yeah, okay, um, Coach, remind me again why I can’t just give him all my physical education credits?” Myungsoo asked in a squeaky voice. If he’d learned anything form competitive sports, it was that anybody who thought too much of themselves wasn’t worth the effort of anything.

                (And really self-confident people tended to scare Myungsoo by just the slightest bit).

                “That’s not morally right and we both know it, Myungsoo,” Coach reminded him, clapping his shoulder. “Get comfy. I’ll remember to give you some extra credit, and you two will start after school. Good? Good.”

                And with that, he left the two alone.

                “I’m really not that good at athletics,” Myungsoo burst out. “I mean, I’m honestly not that good, so please don’t expect a lot from me. My mile time’s only 6:21 –“

                “Meh, mines is like sixteen minutes so we’re pretty much even,” Sungyeol shrugged.

                The initial shock got dropped from Myungsoo’s face after he remembered, that’s what he was supposed to be here for. To help this guy not get another 16 minute mile.

                “…And how exactly do you get that? Do you, like, walk the entire thing?” Myungsoo asked in a scarily low voice.

                “No, not really. I usually stop midway to sit down ‘cause I get tired.”

                “…Do you even, like, sweat?”

                “Yeah, sometimes, if I’m doing a really, really hard and complicated math problem –“

                “Please stop talking, you’re just downgrading your image even more as it is.”

As Sungyeol sat on the steps of the school’s back doorway after school, he couldn’t help but wonder why Myungsoo looked so familiar to him.

                Sure, he was on the lacrosse team. But nobody on there was really important besides the star players and captain – and thus far, no matter how good Myungsoo was, he wasn’t yet a star player.

                That wasn’t it, though. Sungyeol felt as if there was something before, maybe they knew each other a long time ago? He wasn’t too sure. He’d moved here in the seventh grade when middle school started, and he had gone to a different one than Myungsoo did.

                But wait. No, he was here for elementary school, too. Until third grade, he remembered, then he moved. But what was it that connected those little years with Myungsoo?

                “You’re here already?” a familiar voice from earlier cut through his thoughts.

                “H-huh? Oh, yeah, the teacher let us out early. Or at least me, nobody else was finished with the classwork.” Sungyeol sat up and dusted his legs off, careful not to make direct eye contact with Myungsoo.

                “We’ll get started then?” Myungsoo shrugged. “Or do you wanna change into your Gym clothes? Because I don’t really think those shoes are set for running…”

                Sungyeol stared down at his fluffy jacket, gray sweats, and Converse. “This is what I wear to Gym everyday.”

                “And you don’t get in trouble?”

                “Well, of course I do. I just learned not to care anymore.”

                Myungsoo let out a long sigh, not even sure what to think at this point. “Alright, fine then. We’ll start with some warm-ups, then I’ll time you to see how fast you can run a mile.”

                “What?! No – no, no, no, no, no! I did not come here to get worked to death, I came here to get credits for physical education.”

                “That’s not gonna work if you don’t do anything,” Myungsoo tried.

                “Okay, fine, how about we make a deal?” Sungyeol sat back down on the porch step, just to showcase that he wasn’t gonna go anywhere. “When we grow up and you get rejected from the college you apply to, which would probably be some community one, I’ll let you work as a janitor in my internationally advanced business. Good?”

                Myungsoo just clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Fine then. Run to the wall and back, then we’ll see how well you do with that.”

                When Sungyeol felt all his limbs go frozen, his eyes widen, and his normal-paced breathing disappear, he finally realized why Kim Myungsoo was so familiar.

                A few minutes after staring at a stationary Sungyeol, Myungsoo finally snapped and decided to clap his hands as loudly as possible in front of the older boy’s face. “Yah! What’s wrong with you!”

                Immediately, Sungyeol’s cheeks burned bright pink and he stood up, flustering around with his non-existent items (he’d dropped them off in his favorite teacher’s classroom before going out here). “Yeah, um, I’m sorry, I just remembered – I have to, like, um, go somewhere with my, um, brother today. Buy him hot chocolate! Yeah, that, because uh, we kind of ran out and, um, he really likes it and uh I have to go – tell the gym teacher, whatever his name is – I’m sorryyyyyyy!”

                But before Myungsoo could even manage out one tiny word, Sungyeol had already sprinted out of view.

                “And he said he couldn’t run,” the boy snorted, though a slight smirk on his mouth conveyed satisfaction.

“I thought you said you had something to do after school?” Sungjong raised his eyebrows as he caught sight of Myungsoo walking to their usual seats in the café.

                “Yeah, well the other guy kinda backed out on me,” he replied, half shoving Woohyun’s face the other way to make some room for him.

                “Oooooh, Myungsoo got stood up~” Dongwoo applauded in a sing-song voice. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

                Before he could catch himself, Myungsoo asked, “‘Lucky’? Why on earth would he be lucky for leaving me –“

                “Shh,” Sunggyu hissed loudly, interrupting Myungsoo accidentally on purpose. “Don’t make Myungsoo feel worse than he already is.”

                “Oh c’mon you guys, first of all, it wasn’t even a date!” Myungsoo reached over the table to grab a piece of Hoya’s donut, then seated himself back down. “I was doing a favor for Coach, alright?”

                “Oh, something for the ‘team’?” Sungjong asked provocatively, wriggling his eyebrows to the extreme.

                As if on cue, Woohyun burst into tiny fits of laughter and Sunggyu just rolled his eyes in annoyance, throwing a piece of bread at Sungjong’s tiny face.

                “Team? What’s so funny about that?”

                “Team!” Sungjong hollered when he noticed that Myungsoo didn’t realize what it meant. “Taking Everyone And Mating!”

                It took Myungsoo at least four minutes to finally grasp what his girly friend was saying before throwing his head down on the table. “You’re kidding me Sungjong, that’s so stupid.”

                “It works well with your situation though, hyung.”

                “He isn’t even that good-looking to begin with, alright?”

                “Wait,” Hoya started, “who are we even talking about again?”

                “Lee Sungyeol,” Myungsoo replied, raising his head from the table. “Have you guys heard of him? Super smart but hates anything gym-related?”

                Dongwoo was the first to start clapping his hands energetically, bouncing up and down. “Yeah! I know him, he’s in my history class! The teacher loves Sungyeol. So because of that, our period always gets free food and stuff. It’s so awesome.”

                “Dudeee, I want him in my class!” Woohyun whined. “I want free food.”

                “Lee Sungyeol…”

                “What about him, hyung?” Myungsoo asked, turning his head away from Dongwoo and Woohyun’s food conversation and to Sunggyu.

                “Haven’t you heard that name before?” Sunggyu questioned, taking a sip of his mocha before setting it down.

                “No, not that I remember,” the younger shrugged back.

                “Wait, now that you say it, it kinda does…except I don’t really remember where…” Sungjong tilted his head, thinking for a good minute.

                “It has something to do with running, I know that.” A few more seconds. “And lots of crying, I remember that too,” Sunggyu added. “Dammit, why is he so familiar?”

                “Is he tall-ish?” Sungjong turned to face Myungsoo. “I feel like my memory’s really, really hazy…but don’t you remember? Sungyeol…Sung…no, that’s not it…Sungyeol…Yeol…Yeollie…Yeollie hyung! I got it!! It’s Yeollie hyung!”

                “Yeollie hyung?” Myungsoo pursed his lips for a second, trying to dig back into his memory for anything of the sort. “I think…I’m not too sure…”    

                “That’s what the crying was about!” Sunggyu clapped. “I got it!”

                “Crying? I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

                “Why he hates athletics,” Hoya  nodded (somehow, he’d gotten himself into the conversation. Just somehow). “I get it now.”

                “What?? Get what?”

                “You should go talk to Yeollie hyung,” Sungjong said confidently as if he knew exactly what he was talking about. “He’s probably still hurt and traumatized by that event.”

                “What event?!”

                “Shh, it’s okay. We understand that you’re very remorseful about it. Just talk to him, I bet he’ll forgive you. And you guys might even start going out again.”

                “What?!”

“Sungyeol –“

                The first voice that Sungyeol had heard when he walked into the school frightened him half to death and in that little genius mind of his, he figured that he had two choices – either keep walking and pretend that he had to go somewhere urgent or turn around and just walk away.

                (He ended up choosing the former because if he just walked away, there’s always somebody that could possibly catch him).

                “Um science teacher really wants to talk to me about that project a few days ago,” Sungyeol said quickly as he kept walking towards who-knows-what class.

                “Oh c’mon, I really need to talk to you!” Myungsoo complained, reaching for the sleeve of Sungyeol’s shirt and (because muscles) managed to pull the taller boy over to the side of the lockers where nobody was.

                “Okay what, and please make it quick because I swear if I have to look at your  face any longer I’m gonna cry for my 2^nd grade self,” Sungyeol blurted out.

                “None of that made sense to me, and I need you to explain to me why it didn’t.”

                “…What?”

                “Look, yesterday too when I was with Sunggyu and Sungjong and Hoya, they were all talking about you and –“

                “Sungjong? And Sunggyu?” a light flashed somewhere on Sungyeol face, and he smiled. “I haven’t seen them in years!”

                “You know them? From when?!”

                “You don’t remember?”

                “Well no, of course not!”

                Sungyeol bit his bottom lip, not sure of what to say. After all, here he was, a senior in high school.

                Yet still moping over his 2^nd grade boyfriend.

                “You don’t remember? Any of it? You don’t remember me? I’m Lee Sungyeol, you used to call me Yeollie and you would hit Sungjong each time he tried to call me that?”

                “…No?”

                “You don’t remember how you asked me out in 1^st grade? And then Suzy married us on the playground in 2^nd grade?”

                “Okay, okay, hold, what?!”

                “I knew you wouldn’t remember,” Sungyeol complained. “And then you broke up with me, like, four weeks after we got married and you started going out with that kid, what’s-his-face, because in P.E. he ran to the wall and back faster than I did.”

                A weird look plastered over Myungsoo’s face and he shivered. “I wasn’t even aware that I was gay.”

                “Yeah, and your 1^st grade self has a better preference in uality than your 12^th grade self,” Sungyeol tsk’ed, flicking Myungsoo’s forehead.

                “Oh, so you’re still frustrated over that?” Myungsoo laughed, backing away after a second to hold his now red forehead. “Aww, because I broke up with you? And it hurt you enough to have to move?”

                “Hey!” Sungyeol cried, stepping back and pointing a finger at the shorter boy. “There! You do remember! Because I specifically do not remember telling you that I moved!”

                The smile fell from Myungsoo’s face and he seemed to think a little harder. “…Maybe I do remember.”

                “You mean you do remember, you just don’t want to kill yourself again over the fact that you broke up with such an amazing person for a douchebag who can run to the wall and back.”

                “Fine,” Myungsoo grinned, “run to the wall and back faster than Sunggyu laying down and I’ll your boyfriend again.”

                “…What? But even if I can’t run for my life, I can still beat – oh. Ohh. I see what you’re doing.”

                “I’ll meet you outside with Sunggyu. You in?”

                “Just as long as you agree to give me my high school credits.”

                “Just as long as you win.”

IT STARTED OUT AS A NORMAL ISH STORY (noticed how I put the ish yeah I always put the ish)

the thing is I took a math final today and midway through I had this anxiety attack because what the nobody told me it was going to be THIS HARD and my teacher almost sent me to the nurse and when I got home I was super embarrassed so I kinda abandoned myself in a corner and typed this

except the thing was it took too long for everything to happen and I was tired and life so I improvised with the entire first boyfriend thing.

I MEAN C'MON WHO ELSE GOT MARRIED IN LIKE SECOND GRADE? who had their first kiss in like kindergarten? .______.

oh and guise basically sungyeol doesn't like running anymore because it ruined his first relationship. yay for not making any sense~

(not me but like I know personal stories of other peoples so yes.)

[[c:11]]