Ara life became consumed by studying. The consistent, carefully measured schedule of studying she’d maintained throughout her school career, had failed her. She’d fallen behind, buried in the fluffy dust of golf ball eyes’ rise to stardom as the new number one student. The second rank she kept seeing on her exam result sheets - the repulsive number, 2, filling her irises with guilt and anger – had thwarted everything she’d lived by and studied by. The golf ball eyed boy, was simply better.

The countless bits of advice she used to give her friends around her – one bad exam won’t make universities turn you down, just take two more hours from your sleep to study, it’s not as much about advancing your rank as showing improvement with you grades (the last one was especially a er) – all came back to her, word for word, from her closest friends, as if they genuinely thought they were comforting her.

The worst days were the ones when everyone came to school with the list of universities they’d been accepted to. As the last high school year of their lives crawled by, the kids one by one began relaxing their shoulders, casually moving their conversation topics from the anxiety attacks of applying to colleges, to discussing which of them would go to the same school, which of them were close enough to stay in touch, how they’d spend the remaining time they had as high school students.

None of Ara’s friends were attending the same university as her. Of course, she’d halfway expected it. But more and more, she was being left out of the conversations that dealt with arranging roommates, going shopping for dorm room necessities together, whatever.

“Hey Ara, thanks so much letting me borrow it. It was actually really good.”

Ara looked up from her iPod, unplugging her right headphone. Golf ball eyed boy held out her copy of The Hunger Games. Stiffly, she took the book, putting it next to her iPod on her desk.

“Do you think I could borrow the next one, too?”

Before the fatal mid-term exams, Ara had wanted to reread the book before the Hollywood movie came out. She’d kept forgetting to take it back home and left it in her locker, until golf ball eyes, whose locker was uncomfortably close to hers, had seen it, asked how it was, and if he could borrow it before the movie came out.

Ara wished she’d just told him to go buy his own copy, then.

“Um, I don’t have it with me today, but I guess I can bring it tomorrow.”

He formed that fat heart with his lips, the one apparently all the guys in school were in love with. His golf ball eyes narrowed, to somewhat normal size, as if this particular smile was specifically special. Ara wanted to frown, but miraculously kept her expression even.

 “Awesome. Thanks so much. Do you want me to text you a reminder, just in case?”

Ara hoped this time, her annoyance did come through her expression. Golf ball eyes apparently didn’t seem too bothered by it.

“I’m not that forgetful.”

“No, I didn’t mean it that way. I just wanna start reading the next book, you know?”

Again, Ara desperately wanted to tell the kid off, to go buy the series for himself. But he was already handing her his phone, the new contact screen and the blinking type line in her face.

She’d sighed, unwillingly given him her number, and put her headphone back in. He’d muttered something along the lines of ‘Thanks’ to her again, but she didn’t quite catch it, IU’s vivacious music loud in her ears.

Before the senior year ended, Do Kyungsoo managed to borrow the whole Hunger Games series from Ara. Why didn’t she just say no? It was a question she just couldn’t answer.

In a way, the last ten or so years of her life had been so deeply dedicated to these ultimate moments. The final high school days, with her university set on paper, her grades glowing with the hard work she’d put in all the years, her friends and family congratulating her on her well-earned achievements.

It was nothing like that. If anything, she felt like a walking, timed bomb. The initial shock of Ara’s decline to second rank, had long since faded away, at least to everyone else. With all the focus on golf ball eyed boy, people had returned to treating Ara almost like they had before. Almost.

She was yearning for the undivided attention she’d always received from everyone around her. She knew it. She knew she was selfish and egotistic. But she couldn’t help it. She couldn’t help the lump in that formed when the school designated golf ball eyes as the student speaker for their upcoming graduation ceremony, as the first rank of the school. Another lump for her graduation ribbon, colored in two stripes of light pink and white. Yes, she was second rank, and got a special ribbon than the other students, who wore simple, light pink ribbons. But no, she couldn’t have the white and gold striped ribbon. It belonged to the first rank.

The rehearsal day of their graduation, Kyungsoo gave her a look she’d never seen before. Just before he, Ara, Hyunshik, and a girl named Yerim received the cue to walk up to the platform and sit in their designated row, he’d turned to her, with eyes wide and polished, corners of heart shaped lips slanting downward. Pity, apology, regret, contempt – whatever that expression had been, it had left such a dent in her gut, that when she’d returned home, she’d locked herself in her bathroom and cried her eyes out.

The day of the graduation, she was dazed. The school openly cheered as the principal proudly stalked up to the podium, to congratulate the four students from their high school to attend Seoul University next fall.

Kyungsoo’s name, inevitably, was first, with roaring cries of ‘Heartlips!’ from deep, male voices. Ara’s name, second, drew adoring applause. Trumpets of congratulatory sounds and smiles, that slammed wave after wave of nausea and guilt at her until cold sweat formed on her palms.

Hyunshik, the nice, smart kid that everyone loved, was called third, and Yerim, the smart, quiet girl Ara hadn’t really known very well, was called fourth.

Kyungsoo’s speech, was incredible. He had a way of turning his voice rather shrill and unattractive when he got excited. But apparently, the guys loved that about him, too. He pleased the family and faculty because he was beyond intelligent. He pleased his friends and the other students because he was brilliant and witty, but humble.

Ara couldn’t help but wonder, how things would have been different if it had been her up there, giving the speech. If she would have been able to please everyone, literally everyone, the way golf ball eyes could.

Seoul University. It had been her dream since she could remember. Unfortunately, the graduation ceremony that should have marked one of the happiest moments of her high school life, centered greatly around her standing in the shadow of that boy with golf ball eyes and heart shaped lips.

“Congratulations on graduating, Ara. I was glad we were in the same class this year. I’ll hopefully see you at school next year, huh?”

Do Kyungsoo had offered Ara a handshake. The boy glowed with everything that Ara didn’t have. But traces of the jarringly odd expression he’d given her on graduation rehearsal day, lingered in the corners of his mouth. Ara hated it, couldn’t stand it.

“Congratulations to you too.”

Ara’s hand was still clammy when she shook Kyungsoo’s hand. Surprisingly, so were his.

It surprised Ara that her Honors Research Seminar professor had a prosthetic eye, a short, neatly dressed woman bordering her fifties. It was a stark change to the fairly young, Mrs. Son, or most of her high school teachers.

Everything was starting anew. It was university. It was Seoul University, her dream.

Yoonjo, Ara’s roommate, broke off a piece of Ara’s blueberry muffin from the seat next to her.

“Hope everyone’s got their coffee!”

Professor Kim blinked her natural eye, while her prosthetic one regarded the trickling students. Ara followed her gaze to the doors near the back of the lecture room. A tall, overly familiar figure strode in, black button-up shirt stylishly accompanying a handsome eye-smile. Hyunshik.

Ara almost dropped her piece of blueberry muffin. Right behind Hyunshik, golf ball eyes trailed in, short, one backpack strap slung over a shoulder, huge, white irises swallowing the length of the room.

She wished she’d looked away. Unfortunately, she didn’t, and those huge eyes locked right on with hers. He didn’t wave, or nudge Hyunshik to tell him who he saw. Golf ball eyes just smiled, heart shaped lips pulling back widely.

Ara wanted to groan. She quickly turned away, facing her roommate’s carrot-orange hair falling over her cheek.

Don’t panic, was what Ara found going through her mind. This is university, this is a new start, it doesn’t matter that golf ball eyes is in this class. Universities don’t even have ranking systems. It’s about doing well as an individual.

Even as she told herself these things mentally, Ara’s insides crumbled, bit by slow bit. She knew what golf ball eyes had aimed to major in. Everyone had shared their majors right before graduating, back in their high school class. She, golf ball eyes, Hyunshik, were all on the medical school track.

As Ara watched Hyunshik and golf ball eyes take a seat near the front, Professor Kim cleared , took a firm stand at the head of the lecture room, and began speaking.

“Our aim for this class is simple. Each of you will individually conduct extensive research on a chosen topic and field of study, compose a 20-25 page research paper, put together your research as a presentation, and participate in the school’s semesterly research symposium.”

Yoonjo gasped. Ara’s brain busied itself, zeroing in on the key words Professor Kim had used. ‘Individual’ stood out to her like a sink hole in the road. Relief flooded her chest. She kept reminding herself, university was a chance to start new, a place to work individually from a blank slate and achieve on a personal level. Medical school didn’t look at ranks, it looked at individual performance. Then again, so had universities.

“The research symposium invites prestigious researchers from all over the country as judges. The judging panel will carefully review each presentation. It will select a first, second, and third place. If you manage to fall into any of those places, you can guarantee yourself an A. If not, most likely, a B or below.”

Ara started when Hyunshik raised a hand and spoke in that all-too-familiar voice.

“Is this class the only class to participate in the symposium?”

Professor Kim smiled.

“Two other English and Research Seminar courses will participate in addition to ours.”

As the class ended, Yoonjo kept trying to think of intellectual, but casual and fun research topics. Ara had her things zipped up in her backpack, ready to go, but her roommate wouldn’t budge. Ara hated being on the edge of her heels, hairs on her neck pricking as she watched golf ball eyes and Hyunshik from the corner of her eyes. They were making their way over to her.

“Ara! So good to see you! How are you settling here?”

She managed a smile at Hyunshik, but when she turned to golf ball eyes, her lips automatically scowled.

Hyunshik inquired on. Ara only half heard him, unintentionally conjuring up the odd expression golf ball eyes had given her back in high school, during their graduation rehearsal. That pity glazed over his eyes, the incomprehensible tears she’d poured into her sink.

It wasn’t there now. But Ara could just imagine him, pulling that same glaze over those huge eyes again. She never wanted to see it, ever.

Apparently, she’d satisfied Hyunshik with enough halfhearted nods and ‘yeah’s to quiet him. Yoonjo had finally decided to start packing. Golf ball eyes’ lips parted, drawing light wrinkles around the skin of his huge eyes.

“I’m really glad we got to be in a class together, Ara. How about grabbing lunch sometime? We could talk about helping each other out with this class. Who knows, maybe we have more classes together, later today or tomorrow?”

For some reason, the unpleasant imaginations of her having lunch ‘sometime’ with golf ball eyes didn’t include Hyunshik. Ara had no idea why her brain wanted to bully her that way. She forced a hand on Yoonjo’s shoulder.

“Uhh, maybe, I’ll see how my schedule plays out. Pretty busy, you know? Well, we need to go…”

Ara was pretty sure she made Yoonjo leave her pencil in the classroom. She didn’t care. The relief at being out of there, away from furthering the prospect of lunch with golf ball eyes, suddenly made her limbs extremely tired.

“Who were those guys?”

“We were in the same class in high school.”

“Huh? Coincidental much? We had like ten kids from my high school get into this school, but I’m the only one in Professor Kim’s class.”

Ara huffed in annoyance, trying to scrub away golf ball eyes’ huge, white irises from the back of her eyes.

“Such a coincidence.”