Chapter 8

The first thing I find strange when I stepped into school are the students giving us weird stares and then started whispering to one another. When I finally can’t stand the attention given to us, I turn around but to only find Wooyoung missing. He probably feels awkward and strange with the happened events too.

The next thing I know is Jiyeon and Luna both calling me out of my classroom. Lips pouting in wonder as I see them waving wildly and then gesture exaggeratedly for me to come out. I have the intention to ignore them at first but the idea simply stop when their faces start to leak out with serious expressions.

“What’s up?” I pop up with pockets in my blazer.

They do not respond, instead they pull me to a corner and curiosity grows more.

“Did something happen?” I ask again.

Luna and Jiyeon exchange glances then turn towards me. “Didn’t you hear?”

My brows meet each other further, “heard of what?”

Jiyeon takes the initiative this time and continues, “Do you know who you were with earlier?”

“You are talking about Jang Wooyoung?”

“You know him?!” the two pounce the question on me at the same time and I am a little taken aback.

“Yeah, I mean we are…” I give a slight pause with the sentence, “we are friends.” I speak the word ‘friends’ softly this time. Not knowing whether if that is a term I would like to refer us to. But to Wooyoung, we are nothing more but… friends.

“Friends?” the way Luna furrows her brows looks as if they are knitted together. “Jieun, how long have you been friends with him?

“It has been a while.” I answered plainly.

“And you didn’t tell us.”

I look at them suspiciously. Why are they so curious about my relationship with him? They even pulled me to a corner to have this discussion. Thinking something must have happened, I pulled my hands out of my pocket.

“What’s wrong?”

The speed of my heart increases rapidly within the next few seconds. The tensed up mood, the unanswered questions, and the contemplating looks give me all the creeps. That mere few seconds feel like forever with the intolerable silence and I have to break out the same question. But this time, with more anxiety spoken.

“What is wrong?”

Jiyeon gives Luna one last look before heading her gaze towards me. “Jieun, I think it’d be better if you stay away from him.”

Stay away from him…?

“What do you mean?”

The sudden unexpected words freeze every part of my body. Even my voice that is usually loud and chirpy turns dark, moody and soft. The irresolute looks on their faces make me feels more unease and involuntarily, I speak out again.

“What does that mean?”

Luna grabs hold my cold hands when the unrestrained emotions escape out through my cracked voice. “Jieun, listen.” She takes in another deep breath, “he is dangerous.”

This time, it becomes me knitting my brows together. “Dangerous?” I repeat, trying to remember the definition of it. “Explain.”

“There are rumours that he is ill, he is contracted with a disease. Furthermore, someone else has been infected by him. That is why he transferred school.” Jiyeon finishes her speech with a soft sigh.

A scoff comes through my lips and I brush away Luna’s hands instantaneously. “You believe in rumours?”

Luna being a little astonished started clarifying frantically. “It’s not that, Jieun-ah.”

“Then what is it?”

Upon listening to my reply, she shifts her stare around – everywhere, except on me. “It is just playing safe.”

❧

When the day comes to an end, I could conclude that this is one horrible day. It just isn’t my day. Wooyoung coming up to declare that we are nothing but friends, the school spreading some weird rumours of him and even my best friends advise me to ignore him.

The worst part is the unpleasant conversation that we shared. It is the first time we have come to a disagreement. Usually, our minds think really alike. Like we are born with telepathy, we can understand one another without effort. However, this is the first time we ended our conversation with such a bad feeling. Well, I have to admit that I was partly at fault. I shouldn’t have talked to them in that manner. But, how can they act the same way as the others? Saying stuffs like that about someone who they don’t even know. That just isn’t right.

My train of thoughts are quickly interrupted when I head into the route of tall trees with that same mysterious transferee.

“Why are you here again?” I blurt out carelessly.

His lips form into a thin line and then shrug lightly, “you are friend.”

Darting my eyes away, I sneer. “Yeah. Friends.”

Without hesitation, I lift my right foot and step it out. The rustling noise of the leaves get louder and I can safely infer that he is walking right behind me. I don’t know why but the fact that he is following excites me. The noise gets louder with the increased pace of his footsteps and with the side of my eye, I see him already setting beside me. It is when a familiar touch of skin embraces my left hand that make butterflies grow in my stomach. Slightly dumbfounded by the sudden skinship, I stop in my steps.

“What are you doing?” my eyes widen in surprise, delightful surprise.

“You can’t tell?” he replies, lifting our hands. “I’m holding your hand.” He says like a matter of fact.

“I know.” I state. “What I meant was why are you holding my hand?”

With a smirk on his face, he pulls me along and head straight. “Can’t friends hold hands?”

I glance down again at our holding hands and more butterflies grow. “Can.” I say, biting onto my own lips to stop them from spreading apart.

The silence does not grow from there as he starts another topic. This is something that surprises me. He never starts his own conversation. “Why were you so late?”

“Eh?”

“I’ve waited for almost an hour. What took you so long?”

I blink my eyes and bring my phone up to check the time. I didn’t realise. Perhaps it was all that thinking that causes my attention to avert. I then look up, and all I see are a face of worries and a pouting lip. A grin form unknowingly.

“You are worried for me?” I say, sounding almost too cheeky.

Again, he does not reply. But this time, a deep red shade forms on his face and for the first time, I do not feel annoyed with his silent answers. “Thank you.” I give a squeeze on his hand. The smile spreads wider.

It isn’t so bad after all.