Hands, they were made for a reason. To hold on or to let go.


Heart, it has been created for a purpose. To love or to hate.

“I swear, it’s either two ways,” I grimaced at the absurdity. “I’m made for trouble or trouble has a love relationship thing going on with me. Park In-Na is in a relationship with detention.”

“More like you have created trouble for yourself,” L.Joe stated, messing up his blonde hair. “Either way, it has been hard on you, hasn’t it? Trying to live up to the goody-two-shoes image?”

We were called into the headmaster’s office and possibly, words must have been effortlessly spreading. Boys were equally gossipy. The headmaster has been making us wait – with much torture for the past half an hour. I scratched the headmaster’s table with my dormitory’s keys, engraving lines and marks all over it – out of boredom.

Rebellion kicking in, to second that.

“It scares me by how you are starting to understand my messed up brain.” I responded, not giving a care that L.Joe has defeated, stamped across his face.

“I understand, all too well.” His tone inched with mockery. Without caution, rather recklessly, he has comfortably placed his legs on top of the headmaster’s table, tapping his feet in rhythm. He didn’t care. Neither did I.

“Where did you get your feisty genes from?”

“Born with it, people just have to deal with it.”

He snickered, “I like how you think, naughtiest girl. But I believe, you weren’t exactly born with it.”

“People are into talks, but I’m more into doing,” I implied, rolling my eyes. “I would rather run ten miles than listening in to the headmaster’s lecture on future bull-. I know what I want to achieve in life. I want to venture out there, fall hard, get injured and get my right back up. Get into trouble, fight for my own rights because at the end of the day, we have only one life to live.”

“One life?”



“Yeah.” I nodded. “We’re not sweet little, purring kittens, Byunghun. How many lives to do you think have been given to us?"

“Nerd-fest alert,” he snapped, whirling in the roller-styled office chair. “Great job in keeping up with the Park Niel’s image. It’s slowly getting to you.”

“Didn’t you know? Cats are given nine lives. Everyone knows that,” I retorted, kicking his chair with utmost strength.

My ferocious act sets him flying to the other side of the room. From the bookshelves filled with thesis and bounded books, he raised a middle finger towards my direction. His eyes flicking into mine, glistening with humor.

“Screw you!” he mouthed, having that smirk swiveled in between the spaces of his lips.

“Back at you!” I retorted, straightening the school’s uniform that I have adorned.

L.Joe ran his hand against the folders, eyes averted to the titles of the thick bounded book, wearing a blank mask over his face.

On the other hand, I have grown impatient, knowing that we will be missing out on the important classes. Just because, we have been spending our precious time, rolling around in these roller-styled armchairs - waiting for the headmaster to begin with his possibly ‘rehearsed lecture’ on the two newly-transferred troublemakers.

The irksome reality and the headmaster was nowhere at sight.

Sweeping his hair away from his eye, L.Joe lifted his head to meet my eye. “So, In-Na, do you have a plan?”

I nodded