Seconds ticked as I sat staring at the small note, too stunned to move. Once everything began to click, my head involuntarily whipped around, my eyes scrutinising the multitude of passing figures as I tried to locate one, the odd one out that might have had his eyes on me when I read the letter. I stood up, trying to discern the faces of the students, but slumped back in my seat when I found no curious faces staring back at me, no suspicious shadows ducking behind walls when they caught sight of me.

My hands trembled a little as I reread the letter. I chewed my lip anxiously and glanced around again, somehow hoping that he would materialise somewhere within my vicinity. My head was spinning as I shakily folded it and kept it away, my hair a mess when I tangled my fingers through it in agitation.

How did he know? We had agreed on keeping it anonymous, but how could he have known that it was me? Did he conduct a discreet research on me? Did he become that desperate to know, that desperate to find out who I was? If so, what was the cause?

Questions were spinning in my head; I didn’t hear the bell ring. The rumble of footsteps and the slamming of the door startled me out of my thoughts, and reluctantly, I rose to pick up my tray and Hyunji’s. Again, I glanced around –a hopeless attempt to find the answer to my questions.

I was quick to walk to my class, carelessly bumping into other people on the way and muttering half-hearted apologies as I made a brisk escape. My eyes kept roving around, trying to find a familiar face that looked curious, guilty, so that I can pin my suspicions on him. Nobody cared to glance at me though, and I emerged in my class, as reluctant as any of my classmates. My disappointment soon dissolved though, when I reached my desk and found a note tucked into my pencil box.

Are you mad? :(, it read.

Again, I whipped my head up to scan the people around me. I scrutinised my classmates, all the boys sitting both within my vicinity and at the far ends of the class. None of them appeared to be interested in anything that I was doing. My eyes landed on the seats belonging to Hyunji and Jonghyun; I noted absently that they had yet to return.

Hesitating, I picked up my pen. Taking another cautionary glance around, I flipped the note back and wrote my reply:

Who are you?

I didn’t know where I should leave it, but after a moment’s worth of contemplating, I decided to leave it at the empty locker after class. I quickly shoved it away before anyone could see what I was doing.

I got the reply the next day.

A friend :). I’m sorry. I just had to know who you are. Don’t worry. Nothing’s going to change. And... I’ll be here for you. Even if you won’t see me, I’m here. Forever and always.

Signed,

Your one and only guardian, Me.

My heart skipped a beat at the contents. Maybe I was reading into things, but his implication seemed clear and sincere. I didn’t believe that this could be the trick; it just wasn’t him to do things like that, to lie to me. Although we only knew each other through paper, he was the only boy who was completely honest to me, who trusted me. He wouldn’t do this on purpose to hurt me.

But did that also mean that he would protect me? The idea seemed terribly surreal, unrealistic. Why would he, when he probably had better things to do? Why would he assume the job as my protector when a person as sweet as he would probably have girls lining up for him, when there were girls who were better suited as candidates than me?

A blush rose up my cheeks. I wanted to discard it as something meant to be an apology, words written out of courtesy and guilt to placate me after breaking an unspoken promise. But on the other hand though, I wished that it wasn’t; I wished that it wasn’t merely meaningless words but rather a promise made in actual sincerity.

Needless to say, I awaited his next letter with such eagerness that even I was surprised at myself.

It was the same afternoon that I decided to stay a school a little later than usual, remembering that my mother had told me that she was going to be back late. With dinner still a faraway prospect (I entertained the idea of telling my mother that I was going to cook for myself –surely that would lure her out of her office fast enough), I decided to extend my stay at the school for the day. I wanted to take some time to wallow in my thoughts, maybe finish some homework –maybe start a little detective work.

The two notes I received had occupied my mind for a good portion of the afternoon, and somehow, I ended up assembling a list of potential candidates in my head during the last two periods of the day. I decided to use the library to do my detective work, and settled in a secluded corner with a pen and paper as I began pondering through my list. Once again, I began running through the names of all the boys in my class, crossing out one after another after I cross-matched them with the characteristics I knew that my pen friend possessed. Those whose handwriting I was familiar with had an immediate out; having spent several months in his correspondence, I’d know his penmanship anywhere, and I was positive that it didn’t match any of theirs.

 I began referencing to their known traits next, separating the quiet ones from the loud ones, the studious ones from the naughty ones. I narrowed down my list again by separating the single ones from the ones with girlfriends and finally, tried to match the final few I had left with the traits that I had managed to glean from his letters. Oddly, I was glad that none of them matched.

Then, I moved on to those with farther relations: boys from other classes and juniors with whom I might have once had contact with. Once again, I was left at a dead end. Although some might have expressed some interest in me sometime before, none of them seemed to fit the criteria of being my mysterious pen friend.

I leaned back in my seat, twirling my pen for a while, before taking a deep breath and listing all the names of the members of the basketball team. I had wanted to save them as a last resort, mainly because I doubted that any of these letters could have come from any of them. They were a bunch of rowdy boys, too rough to rein in and too loud to control (hence, Kris ruling with an iron fist). The boy in my letter was sweet and caring. Having known those boys for so long, I couldn’t imagine them taking a step down from their pedestals to listen to a girl’s problems and relay proper advice. But nevertheless, I decided to give the boys a fair judgement –especially to those I kept close contact with.

After much crossing out, I was left with four names, and one I quickly crossed out. It was useless to even consider Yixing anyway, for he had eyes only for Hyunji, and he certainly wouldn’t go with such a roundabout way in trying to communicate with someone. That left three: Tao, Chanyeol and Kris.

Tao was a nice guy, sometimes a bit on the intimidating side, sometimes a little bit of an oddball. I knew that he was a closeted romantic, the type that liked taking walks alone at the beach to brood over his thoughts, but I also knew that Tao was an open book. He was straightforward with his opinions and showed his dislike towards certain subjects plainly. If there was a girl he liked, I knew that he wouldn’t be able to keep it so well to himself. One day, his control would slip and he’d just end up blurting it out in a conversation. It was this thought that made me cross out his name, for I knew, in the years of friendship we shared, Tao never had feelings for me –never had and never will.

The next was Chanyeol. Chanyeol was odder than Tao. Not in a bad sense, really. It was just that he kept his capabilities shadowed by that loud, outgoing facade of his. He was excellent enough to rank as co-captain of the basketball team, yet he could be such a goof that there was a time when he collided with the basketball pole while he was chasing after Tao. In a way, he was more transparent than Tao, and I knew, to some degree, that he was interested in me. But those feelings could have long waned, and he seemed to regard his open flirting with me as jokes now, playful banter aimed to elicit a reaction from me. And besides, I knew Chanyeol’s style, enough to say that the letters weren’t his.

Finally, there was Kris. Kris was the enigma, as unpredictable as the changing tides. I had known Kris for three years, but I had yet to glean the essence of his personality. Before we started working together, the only times I saw him was when he was on-court, or when he was making his rounds to summon s to relay announcements or pass information. We spoke very little to each other, but we had an unspoken respect towards one another. Kris struck me as someone who kept his feelings to himself very well. After five minutes of contemplation, I decided to put a question mark next to his name.

I let my eyes linger for a while on Kris’s name as I pondered over the next few names that I could add in addition to the ones on the list. A muted thump drew me out of my thoughts. I turned my head to stare at the shelves next to me; rows and rows of books stared at back at me, binders with varying thickness and spines with gold and silver lettering jumbling into something of a disorganised mess of colours. In between the aisles were empty, but I just spotted a streak of red, passing through a spot that I had just missed.

Tucking the list carefully into my pocket, I left my possessions scattered on the table as I heeded my beckoning curiosity. I recognised that head of chocolate brown hair, streaked with the most subtle highlights that gleamed under the lights. I found him crouched down a few shelves away from the one I originally saw him in, and smiled tentatively as I called his name.

Jonghyun looked startled when he heard my voice, but it soon dissolved into relief when he realised that it was me. He had settled on the floor, knees drawn up to his chest. A pair of earphones s down from his ears to his uniform before coiling around the iPod that he had settled on the floor. He smiled at me, pulling out one of the earphones as he greeted me.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” I replied with a smile. “What are you doing here so late?”

Jonghyun shrugged. “To think.”

I let the silence stretch for a while before I asked my next question. “Can I sit?”

Jonghyun looked surprised. Perhaps he was expecting that I would go away once I realised that there was nothing of interest for me here. But nevertheless, he gave me a curt nod and scooted sideways a little to make some space.

I lowered myself next to him. The floor was far from being polished, but it was fairly clean and looked like it had been swept several times to get rid of all the dust. Leaning against the shelf, I stared at the wall in front of us, absently noting that the paint was a little bit chafed at the bottom. Finally, I spoke.

“I guess you talked to Hyunji.”

I sensed Jonghyun stiffening right next to me at the mention of her name; his shoulders moved in the quickest, almost imperceptible manner when he raised it in a shrug.

“You alright?”

His laughter was short, like a bark. “How would you feel if you had your heart broken?”

I hesitated, but answered anyway. “Bad. Really bad.”

“Then you have some idea,” he replied curtly. He made a move to plug the earphone back into his ear.

“Jonghyun, I’m sorry,” I said, turning to look at him sympathetically. It was strange to see his face so stoic, so tightly drawn from emotion.  “But I before you harbour a grudge on Yixing, I think you should know something.”

“You’re his best friend. Of course you would side with him.” The way he said it wasn’t judgemental; it just sounded sad, as if he thought that no one would understand him.

“True, but I regard you as my friend too, and maybe this can help you move on.”

Jonghyun sighed, before moving to his other ear to pluck the remaining earphone from it. Rolling it up with his hand, he nodded at me. “Go on.”

“Yixing... has liked her for a very long time –long since before you even knew her. He knows her inside out; how to deal with her when she’s upset and hurt; how to make her smile when she’s as down as ever. He knows her strengths, the various facets of her personality that makes her such a good friend; and he also knows her weakness, traits that make her a little rough around the edges. Yet, he still loves her. Don’t you think it’s fair?”

“So basically you’re saying that he deserves her and I don’t?” He regarded me with a shrewd gaze.

“I’m saying that you’ve only known Hyunji for a short time. What you might find so endearing about her is just the surface of her personality, a tiny gleam of her soul. I’m afraid, Jonghyun, that once you see Hyunji at her worst, that you might regret your decision.”

“The odd thing is though, once you’re in love with someone, you’re practically blind to everything.” He began toying with the earphones again, letting them uncoil from his fingers and then rolling them up again.

“Infatuation can come off strong, but that doesn’t mean you can’t try to pull yourself out,” I pointed out gently. “Jonghyun, I don’t think you’re in love with her –not yet.”

Jonghyun cocked his head at me. “How would you know anything about my feelings?”

I smiled flatly at him. “You’re right, I don’t. It’s a gut feeling, but I don’t know. Sometimes, I have a good intuition when it comes to things like this. I’m not saying that you don’t like her,” I said quickly before he could protest. “I’m just saying that maybe you’re just infatuated with her. I mean, I know Hyunji’s a pretty girl; it’s easy to fall for her. But I think your feelings, most of it anyway, is just competitiveness.”

Jonghyun cocked his head as he regarded me for a while, his eyes void of any emotion. Then, his lip quirked up into the smallest of smirks. “Love’s a wild battle field. You can say we’re not much different from the animal kingdom in our quest for mates.”

I chuckled. “Don’t ever let Yixing hear you say that. He wouldn’t be pleased with being compared to some untameable beast fighting to his death for the sake of trying to get a mate.”

Jonghyun laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

It soon dissolved into a comfortable silence, and we sat there for a while, enjoying each other’s company, engulfed in a blanket of newfound comfort.

“I’m not saying that it’s going to happen straightaway,” Jonghyun began, shattering the air of ambience. “But I’ll try. I’ll try and forget her, and I promise, I won’t do anything to sever their relationship.”

 I smiled, reaching up to pat his shoulder. “Thanks Jonghyun. You’re a good guy.”

“And you’re a good girl,” he replied with a kind smile. “Let me know which one you finally end up with.”

I gawked at him in surprise.

He chuckled. “Come on now, it’s no secret. The whole school has been talking about you and the two newest transfer students.”

I was speechless.

“Looks like I’m not the only one who needs love advice,” he said jokingly, lightly flicking my forehead.

“Yeah, well...” I coughed into my fist, feeling a blush coming up my cheeks. “I have to go. See you around.”

Jonghyun looked amused at my pathetic attempt at the discreet escape. “Yeah. See you around, although that won’t be the case for much longer. The transfer program is ending, and I’ll be going back to West High soon.”

I stared at him in surprise, and odd wave of sadness washing over me. Even though I never spent as much time with Jonghyun as Hyunji did, somehow I had begun to regard him as quite a dear friend. “Really? That’s... so fast.”

Jonghyun smiled sadly. “Time flies fast.”

“I’m going to miss you,” I said sincerely.

“I’m going to miss everything,” Jonghyun said as he leaned back against the shelf. “I was beginning to like it here.”

“Yeah...” I hesitated, before giving him another wave and darting back in between the shelves. I heard him singing as I walked away; a sad and lovely love song, but one that bespoke of a promise to let his lover go if it meant her happiness.