I coughed and waved dust away from my face as I placed the box gingerly on the neat stack I had created.

                “This ,” Hansol complained, emerging from the back of the storeroom and setting more boxes down.  Another cloud of dust filled the air and a spider scuttled away.

                Dodging the insect with a dissatisfied frown, I was starting to regret my decision.  When the class was drawing lots to see who would do what job, I begged my friend to switch with me so that I would have the same job as Hansol.  Unfortunately for me, alone time with my crush involved creepy-crawlies and cobwebs. 

                As I was mentally chastising myself, Hansol opened one of the nearby boxes.

                “Whoa, cool, a camera,” he said, fishing out an old camcorder.  He flicked on the power button and the red light blinked.  “It works!”

                He swung it in my direction.  I let out an embarrassed laugh and held out a hand to block the lens.

                “Don’t film me!”

                He smiled mischievously and shut the device off.  “Do you think anyone would notice if I took this?”

                “Stealing school property?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

                “Well if it’s down here, it’s probably been long forgotten.”

                I shrugged.  “Let’s just finish up this job.”

                He became attached to that video camera, pushing it into the people’s faces and pointing it at random things as if he thought he was the next Steven Spielberg.  He took it everywhere, but I noticed he mostly used it around me, whether we were studying or walking to our neighborhood together.  It was starting to get annoying – he would never look at me, lost in his own little world. 

                “Hansol,” I said one day when we were sitting on the field with a couple of friends.  He had the camera pointed at some spot over my shoulder.  “What do you keep filming?”

                He glanced in my direction briefly before returning his eyes to the viewfinder.  “Nothing,” he replied, a smile tugging at his lips. 

                On my birthday, both Hansol and his camera were missing. 

                I tried to be enthusiastic surrounded by my other friends, but my mind was occupied on the thought that he bailed on my invitation.  He’d seemed happy when I’d asked him…didn’t he?

                That night, we stopped at the park.

                “We got permission to show a movie here,” my friend said as she led me towards a projection screen set up at the far end. 

                “What movie are we watching?” I asked. 

                “It’s a new one.  You probably haven’t seen it before,” she replied cryptically.  Another friend the projector and pressed play on a nearby laptop.  Then, as if that was the cue, everyone ran off, giggling maniacally. 

                “Hey, where are you guys—”

                “Don’t film me!”

                Startled by the sound of my own voice, I turned back to the screen.  There was me, covering my face with my hand and laughing. 

                It cut to various shots: the school, the field, the road I walked to school on every day.  But mostly there were clips of me, laughing at a joke someone told or running up the stairs, worrying I’d be late for class.  And in the background, behind the camera, was a familiar voice.

                “Oh, look, there she is,” Hansol said at one point as he filmed me walking down the hall with friends during lunch.  Then the view shook as someone grabbed it and pointed it at him.  Hansol grinned and waved before demanding his camera back. 

                “Hansol, what do you keep filming?” I asked, frowning in irritation.

                “Nothing.”  When I looked away, clearly annoyed with his vague answer, he whispered to the camera with a quiet laugh, “I’m filming you.”

                Behind me, I heard someone calling my name.  I turned slowly.

                Hansol’s shy smile was illuminated by the candles on the birthday cake he was holding.  My knees felt weak and I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

                “Happy birthday!” my friends yelled as they jumped from the shadows.  As they sang, I blew out the candles.  Someone took the cake from Hansol to start dividing it up.

                He took a step towards me and I prayed he couldn’t hear my hear t beating wildly.

                “I have one last present for you,” he murmured.

                And then he kissed me.