“Gosh, I just don’t know what to do!”

I nodded meekly in understanding as I tried to concentrate on the task at hand. I was clutching the whisk with my right hand while my left was holding the bowl in place. The recipe we had been given today was simple, but given our constant misfortune in the kitchen, I was determined to not mess this up for the sake of salvaging our plummeting grades.

At the meantime, I was trying to juggle the Herculean task of whisking a hard batter and listening to Hyunji as she poured out her sorrows. It was a test for both my patience and endurance, and given the situation, I could hardly complain that she chose this particular period to divulge her long pent up frustrations. It was the only period wherein we were Jonghyun and Yixing free. Home Economics was an elective. This particular period allowed students to pick whichever elective that they think would suit their interests, and oftentimes, the boys tended towards Woodworks.

It was much like Arts, really, except during that period, we tended to shuffle classes. The teachers preferred working with students based on their skills. It was unfair, really; I wouldn’t consider Home-Ec as one of my favourite subjects (given my unfortunate lack of talent in anything of the culinary variety) but it was one of the most peaceful classes you could ever have. On the other hand, I loved Arts, but I had to share it with the witch, Choi Minhee.

“He’s just been acting so weirdly these days,” Hyunji continued with a sigh as she toyed with an extra spoon. Since she lacked the strength for things that required muscle, I had offered to stir the batter while she measured and poured in the ingredients.

“Like?” I urged, trying to fish out more information all the while trying to fight back a smile.

“I don’t know, he just seems protective, you know?”

“I thought you always say that you’re used to it,” I said as I drew a tray from the cupboard beneath us. We began spooning the batter in small scoops onto the tray.

“I am. I know Yixing could be a mother hen sometimes, but this is worse.” She sighed. “Especially with Jonghyun around. I have no idea what’s going on between the two, but I can almost feel the tension cackling between them. Yixing keeps glaring at Jonghyun for no apparent reason.”

“There must be one,” I said, leaning forwards as I lazily counted the scoops on the tray. “What do you think makes him do it?”

“My best bet is that it’s because Jonghyun is from West High,” she said, jabbing the spoon into the batter in frustration. “Honestly, he should stop it with his prejudices. Jonghyun’s a perfectly nice guy.”

“Do you like him? Jonghyun?” I asked, cocking my head at her.

She curled a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I don’t know. He’s always nice to me, although he can be a bit of a tease.”

Yixing has a chance then, I noted quietly in my head. I knew Hyunji. If she liked Jonghyun, she would have admitted it upfront.

“Is your heart still loyal to Kris?” I playfully.

She smiled slightly, but I could tell it’s more of a smile of fondness than actual infatuation. “Kris?” she said thoughtfully. “I know this seems strange, but I haven’t thought about him in a while. I guess I’m too preoccupied by those two,” she stuck her tongue out, “with everything going on and whatnot.”

“Don’t worry, Hyunnie,” I said as I patted her back, using the old nickname I used to address her by whenever I wanted to plead for her forgiveness. “Everything will sort itself out just fine.”

I sighed as I inspected the mess of a batch Hyunji and I managed to concoct during Home-Ec. We didn’t expect for the cookies to spread so much in oven so we ended up with splotches attached to each other instead of the rounded version. Not to mention that we left it a little longer than necessary in the oven, so we had burnt edges that needed to scraped off. When we presented our work to the teacher, she only gave us a C. It’s not that we could complain; it didn’t taste as well either. So much for my resolve for a better grade.

I was just about to shove it in my locker when I decided to take another bite. Maybe it wasn’t truly a hopeless cause. My face scrunched as I tried to work my tongue around the taste. It was tangy and had a distinct taste of burnt chocolate. I almost laughed out loud. Admittedly, I had been entertaining fantasies wherein I would present my culinary handiwork to Joonmyun and he would exclaim in pleasant delight at the delicious taste. Who was I kidding with this disastrously pathetic specimen of a cookie?

I was just about to cover the Tupperware up with the lid and shove it into the back of my locker when a hand s over my shoulder and helped itself to one. Whirling around, I was surprised to find Joonmyun’s cousin, Jongin, absently inspecting the cookie as he twirled it in his hand.

“Smells good,” he commented as he took a sniff.

“Believe me, the taste isn’t,” I said as I began to reach out to take it from him.

He held it away, smiling playfully. “Really now? What if I take a bite and find out that you’re lying.”

 I shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

Curious, he did, and I watched with some amusement as his face contorted into a variety of expressions before he forced himself to swallow.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” I said, suppressing a smile.

“A girl who couldn’t cook,” he said after he managed to get over the aftertaste. “That’s a first.” He smirked slightly at me.

“Hey!” I yelled at him, my anger sparking.

“Relax,” he said with a laugh. “I don’t mean it in a bad way. I just think it’s... interesting.”

My anger evaporated slightly. I suppose I couldn’t really be mad at him, considering that it was the truth. I closed the lid of the Tupperware and shoved it at the back of the locker.

“Do you need something?”

“Nope.”

I raised my brows at him. “Then why are you here?”

He grinned. “To see you.”

I hid my surprise with a look of disbelief.

“You’re a friend of my Hyung, right? Any friend of his is a friend of mine.”

“You don’t even know me that well.”

“All the more reason for us to get acquainted. After all, I think Hyung might be lying to me about the few things he told me about you.” He leaned against the locker, cocking his head. “For one, you don’t seem like the shy and quiet girl as he made you out to be.”

It was by sheer will alone that I managed to fight back the blush that was slowly creeping up my cheeks. It was the truth actually. I wasn’t exactly quiet; I only was to Joonmyun, and the reason had been perfectly clear. My huge crush on him had clouded several aspects of my thinking back then, and I ended up projecting myself as awkward and quiet –or rather, in his exact words, shy. Thankfully, I had managed to clamber out of that shell to redeem myself and become his friend instead, but even now there were still moments when he rendered me frozen and speechless with his sweet gestures.

“You seem like the type who can hold your own perfectly fine,” he continued, a mysterious smile slowly making its way to his features.

“I suppose different people have different opinions,” I told him, slamming the locker shut. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get to the cafeteria.”

I started to brush past him, but he stopped me by sidestepping in front of me. Surprised, I managed to stop myself before I ran into him.

“Alright, fine, you got me. I did come here for a reason,” he said as he gazed down at me. I cocked my head to look at him questioningly. I never realised that he was this tall; nowhere near as tall as Kris of course but definitely about Tao or Chanyeol’s height.

“I have to go meet my cousin, but I have no idea where the music room –our rendezvous point –is.”

I raised my brows at him. “Didn’t he tour you yesterday?”

He flashed a sheepish smile. “I have a terrible sense of navigation.”

“You’re just like Joonmyun,” I muttered quietly with a chuckle. “Come on,” I said, lightly grabbing the hem of his sleeve and tugging him with me. “Follow me.”

“Kim Jongin, really. Out of the many things you have to work on, one of them is definitely your punctuality...” Joonmyun trailed off when he caught sight of my figure, lingering behind Jongin’s. “Aeri?”

“I got lost,” Jongin said, sauntering into the room with his hands in his pockets. He cocked his head and scanned its interior, taking in its high ceiling and bare walls along with the array of instruments neatly arranged against west wall. It was a large room; big enough to accommodate several upright pianos with still some space to spare. Jongin’s eyes panned the room before they landed on me again, still standing by the door.

“What are you doing over there?” he asked amusedly. “Aren’t you going to come in?”

“Actually, I have to –”

I didn’t get to finish my sentence. In two strides, Jongin had reached me and tugged me into the room by the wrist, pushing the door closed with his other hand.

“Come in first,” he insisted as he led my towards the middle of the room.

Joonmyun sighed and stepped between us, gently prying his grip from my wrist and setting me free. “If she has to go, then she has to go,” he said sternly to Jongin. “You don’t just force a person to stay, Jongin.”

Jongin gazed at Joonmyun innocently. “I just wanted to get to know her better.”

“Some other time,” Joonmyun said, raking his fingers through his hair before he smiled tiredly at me. “Forgive him, will you? Like I once told you, he can be a bit of a handful.”

“You mentioned me?” Jongin interjected. I could practically see his ears perking up. “What did you say to her about me?”

“I didn’t say anything about you,” Joonmyun said flatly. “Only that you’re hard to handle.”

“Oh well,” Jongin said, not looking thoroughly disappointed. “I suppose that’s the truth. I go by my own rules.” He winked at me.

I rolled my eyes in mock annoyance.

“And that’s the reason you got sent here,” Joonmyun said sternly. I couldn’t help but notice that he sounded more like a father to Jongin than a cousin. “Behave, Jongin.”

“I will,” Jongin said as he plopped onto one of the piano benches. “I get a feeling that I’ll like it here,” he flashed a smile at me and began to absently press the keys, his fingers soon forming a melody that I recognised was similar to the song Joonmyun played when I first heard him play.

 “Be careful with that, will you? I don’t want to have to answer to Kyungsoo; that’s his piano.”

“Oh relax, Joonmyun-hyung,” Jongin drawled as his fingers began to move more swiftly. “I took piano lessons, like you. I know how to play.”

Joonmyun sighed, rubbing his temples. “Honestly speaking, I don’t know what to do with him sometimes,” he said to me. “He takes everything so lightly that it worries me.”

“Hey, you have a rebellious side in you too,” Jongin said, smirking as he gazed at us from the piano. “You used to get into a fair amount of trouble back in the days.”

“At least I grew out of it,” Joonmyun retorted.

I laughed, remembering the stories he had regaled me with in the car when we were on our way to my house. I had to admit, it was hard to imagine Joonmyun as a cheeky troublemaker with mud spattered over his clothes and his nails stained with grime, clambering over walls and climbing trees.

Joonmyun glanced at me and I noticed him trying to hold back a chuckle as he remembered our little moment.

“Sorry that you had to sacrifice your lunch to bring that idiot here, Aeri,” he said apologetically. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t bother you again.”

“Uh-uh Hyung,” Jongin said, shaking his head with a tsk. “Didn’t we agree that I’ll keep myself out of trouble if you don’t tell me what to do? Avoiding her is definitely one of the things that I refuse to even consider.”

Joonmyun sighed and rubbed his temples while I stared at Jongin with raised brows. He was worlds apart from Joonmyun, yet, I couldn’t help but admit that he was somewhat endearing in his own way. Jongin saw me staring at him and flashed me quick wink.

“Come on, Aeri,” Joonmyun said, taking me by the wrist and gently tugging me with him. “Let’s get you out of here before he bothers you even more.” He opened the door for me and ushered me out.

“You’re not bothered by me, are you Aeri?” Jongin yelled from across the room.

Joonmyun rolled his eyes. “See you later,” he said with a smile, ruffling my hair gently. “Go on and eat. Let me deal with this idiot.”

I stared at the closed door in front of me with a smile. They make an interesting pair, Joonmyun and Jongin, and I was certainly looking forward to seeing them again. Slowly, I trudged away, the smile lingering on my lips even when I had left the music room far behind me.

Hey You,

Nice to hear that you’re doing well. Me? Not so much. An old friend just popped into my life, and he’s pestering me to help set him up with the girl he likes, which happens to be my friend too. I’m hesitant to do it, considering that I’m going to have to deal with everything that the idiot is going to make me go through to help him get her.

What do you think I should do?

I read his new letter with a small smile playing on my lips. Throughout the course of our correspondence, he never asked me for advice on any topic pertaining to love. I had to admit, although I never asked, I always wondered about his dating style, the type of boyfriend he would make. Would he be the devoted one, the one who would always be there by your side, always there when you need him? Would he make a caring one? Certainly, for all the letters that I had received from him overflowed with concern whenever I told him about my problems. Would he make a charming one?  Secretly, I thought yes, because he always knew what to say; he always had the sweet words that would make me smile. His gentleness showed even in his writing.

I jolted in surprise when I realised where my train of thought had taken me. How could I even consider him as a subject of interest when I had never even met him? I had never even seen his true colours and how he looked like in actual reality. Our correspondence with each other had been established unintentionally, blindly even. I had no idea who he was in real life, whether or not he would ignite a spark within me when look up to meet his face.

But still, it couldn’t be denied that most of his personality already shone through his letters. Of course, people could easily mask their true selves, and letters made the feat much easier. However, I had a feeling –one that came from the deep corners of my heart –that this guy was truly genuine; the friendship he offered me wasn’t merely a facade to bait me, but rather a hand extended out of sympathy when he first found me buried in the depths of my emotions.

I had this overwhelming feeling that I wanted to meet him. It tugged at my heartstrings, sending tingles down towards my hand so that I would pick up my pen and extend my wishes to him in the next letter. I shooed the thought out of my head easily. I didn’t want to do it yet; I wanted to keep this correspondence going on for as long as possible. I wanted to indulge myself in this luxurious feeling of having a tingle of happiness settle in me whenever I received his letters.

I picked up my pen and wrote my reply:

Dear You,                                     

If he really likes her and you think that’ he’ll be good to her. Why not?

Taking a chance at playing cupid is fun, and trust me, you’ll get this warm feeling in you when you see them together.

Yours truly,

Me.