Wufan wouldn’t believe it if not for the sunflower in his hand. His first day back in the country and out of nowhere, this cute little kitty thing in a bowler hat attacks him with a flower and a hug. Does the world really expect him to make sense of it? Shaking his head, he slips the flower in between the flap of his messenger bag and continues on to his destination.

The main library in the middle of campus is not his favorite place. It’s too crowded, too tense, too filled with negative pressure. Unfortunately for him, he has no choice but to be there. And for two reasons. One, he needs his course handouts, and more importantly, two, Kim Joonmyun wants to meet him at the Beach House. Or more accurately, their newly business partnered fathers want them to meet in an effort to keep the family businesses partnerships in close partnerships. Wufan had every intent of procrastinating with this meeting, but the inherent filial son in him wouldn’t have it. Also, Joonmyun sounded like a really pushy person on the phone.

The line for the course materials and check out counter extends all the way to the end of the hall. He checks his watch; Joonmyun set the meeting in ten minutes. And if Joonmyun is exactly as his reputation says he is, then he’s probably already waiting.

“Kris!” Sara waves for him to come over to her carrel. “I didn’t know you were back.”

“Just landed this morning.” From all over the place doing his father’s bidding. Something about starting from the bottom of the company, working his way up, and learning the tools for the trade. He’s at about level three out of a billion.

“And you come here first thing?” She laughs. “My, my. One summer changed you that much?”

“Very funny.” He’s known Sara since she was a first year and he was in his second. Back when business majors were required to take science courses for holistic development. She sat next to him during General Environmental Science and they’ve been friends since. “I’m here to collect my course materials.”

“You can charm you way over there.” She points in the direction of the student counter. “I’ll see you around, okay?”

“Thanks. We’ll hang out some time.”

The student counter is manned by this girl who is more interested in her phone than in the materials crowding her work area. Her high-pitched giggles come at regular intervals and he timed his approach accordingly.

Wufan leans over the counter. “Hi. I’m here for the Strategic Management Accounting  materials.”

The girl behind the counter looks up from her phone and it’s fuzzy neon orange case, and the annoyed look on her face dissipates as soon as she sees him. Her grimace is replaced by a saccharine smile. “Oh! Kris Wu, right? Ohmigosh. Sorry, what was that?”

“Strategic Management Accounting. Course materials.” Wufan recurs patiently.

The girl tucks her hair behind her ear and bats her lashes. “Just a sec. I’ll be right back.”

Right.

As she scurries off into the inner room, phone still pressed to her ear, Wufan redirects his attention to the reserved archives through the narrow hallway to his left. According to his roommate Zitao, the place is haunted, which translates to Zitao never putting one foot inside. Where Zitao hears of these rumors is beyond Wufan. Just like this so-called reputation of his across campus.

There’s a soft mutter of elaborate and creative curses from inside the room, each phrase growing louder and louder before being punctuated with a particularly naughty word and then silence. After a moment, it comes back in greater agony and before he’s even aware, Wufan is already inside the room, locating the source of these mysterious noises.

He passes by General Knowledge, then Arts and Literature before realizing this part of the library is empty. Cold creeps up his toes. Could Tao have been right? Social Sciences, then Politics, Science and Technology, and there in the last section, is a girl.

He finds her, on the tiptoes of her flats, arms extended as high as they can go, fingers barely peeking through the sleeves of her hoodie, reaching for a book on the top shelf. Her fingertips graze the spine of the book she’s after, and when her nails scratch air, another string of colorful curses abound. Frustrated, she groans and stomps her foot, and tries again.

Wufan has been around all sorts of faces, and this is a face he would normally file away as plain, but something in his gut tells him not to dismiss her so easily. She presses herself against the shelf and mutters another round of frustrated curses as she lightly bangs her head against the books.

“Stupid library. Stupid, stupid library.”

As a last resort, she jumps, but that effort is also spent in vain.

Being the gentleman that he is, Wufan steps behind her to use his advantageous height to help the damsel in distress. He easily grabs the book she’s after, and there’s a split second of crossed wonder and horror at the book title, before the girl between him and the shelf flails in an ungraceful outburst of limbs. A fist hits his nose, and there’s the issue of legs, and the air gets knocked out of him as he lands on the floor with the scent of lemons on top of him.

Her face is in his face and Wufan shamelessly stares, wondering what it is about her he can’t quite get enough of. She opens , and Wufan beats her to it.

“You’re we—”

A squeal cuts short his would be introduction, and he’s left helpless as she snatches her book from the floor and scrambles to the counter, leaving him behind with the scent of lemons in her wake.

Completely ignored, Wufan lays pathetically on the floor staring up at the space at the top shelf. Is this what he gets for helping out a girl in need? He is violently reeled back to reality by one thing, and that is the title of the book he helped her retrieve.

Summon Your Own Supernatural Being: No Blood Sacrifices Required.

This is exactly the horrors Zitao speaks about.

Wufan leaves the library in large strides. The girl from the student counter took too long to retrieve his course materials— the incident with the weird girl and the equally weird book was not enough time apparently— and even longer to hand him the folder. Even with students rushing out of his way, Wufan would not make it to the Beach House in time.

The student cafe, Beach House, is a small outdoor deck a block away from the main library, situated right at the edge of the sunken garden that leads to the axillary football field. Grass leads to cobblestone, and the raised deck is shielded from the sun and the elements by mustard yellow canvas umbrellas. A hand drawn sign on a chalkboard easel reads the day’s specials in pastels and cutesy drawings. At the edge of the deck is the counter and register, a converted container van painted to look like a cartoon beach.

Joonmyun doesn’t look too pleased when Wufan walks up to him a minute late for their appointment. But Wufan isn’t too sure because Joonmyun is smiling. He straightens his flannel shirt, feeling underdressed compared to Joonmyun’s crisp white button-down.

Joonmyun stands to greet him. “Wu Yifan?”

The correction comes automatically. “It’s Kris.” Then as an afterthought, he adds “Sorry I’m late.”

“No problem.” Joonmyun holds a hand out and Wufan takes it. Joonmyun’s grip is firm. Maybe too firm. “I had a five minute extension with a student anyway.”

“You’re a tutor?”

“You seem surprised.”

“I am.”

Joonmyun’s smile grows even wider and Wufan looks away from the blinding image. “Not for the extra income, of course, I volunteer my time actually. It’s good on my resumé and I do like the interaction. Would you like a coffee?”

Joonmyun doesn’t wait for an answer and leads Wufan off to the free counter. Wufan gives his order, a latte, and reaches back for his wallet.

“No,” Joonmyun says, already paying for their drinks. “This is on me.”

“So what did you want to talk about?” Wufan asks as they take their seats on a square wooden picnic table set. The sunflower is hopelessly crushed from his earlier fall, but still relatively intact.

“I wanted to introduce myself, formally. My father speaks well of your family. I look forward to our future relations. I hear you were from SMA. I’m an SMA alum myself. From the Seoul Institute.”

“Beijing and Canada. Dad moved around.”

“As you’ve experience this summer, there’s a lot expected from us. There is someone else that I would like you to meet, but I can’t get a hold of her.”

This isn’t secretly a marriage ploy, is it? “Well, it’s nice meeting you. And I was made aware of the annual company gala at the end of the year. Let me know what I need to do.”

Joonmyun’s smile turns into a soft chuckle. “Yes, indeed, the gala is what this is about. It’s already September so plans must be sent for confirmation.”

“You’ve already done that.”

“I’m very thorough.”

“Alright. I promise to show up.”

“I will hold you to that promise.” Joonmyun stands up first. “I have class in twenty minutes, so I shall see you soon. Perhaps in better circumstances, yes? It’s very nice meeting you.”

Wufan doesn’t stand and instead offers a mock salute. “See you around.”

The door is unlocked and Wufan welcomes himself inside. He clicks his tongue against his teeth, noting the scattered plastic crates and take away boxes on the floor of the small studio apartment. A stack of papers covered the sofa bed in the middle of the room, and the plastic dining table barely peeked from under the stack of clothes on top of it. He drops his bag on the side table by the door and starts clearing the mess.

“Does everyone know of the Great Kris Wu Disaster of 2013?"

Yewon is tying her black, shoulder length hair up in a ponytail when she walks out of the bathroom. “Does the Great refer to Kris Wu or to the Disaster?”

“The Great goes with the Kris Wu,” he answers, unfurling a large garbage bag. “And what did I tell you about locking your door?”

She picks up a crumpled piece of paper and shoots it into the garbage bag. It goes right in. “I don’t understand how or why people buy into this Kris Wu business, Fanfan. Humanity is so easy to fool.” She shoots in an empty can of soda. “Why do you ask? Did your latest escapade make its way to the local headlines?”

The rumors regarding his on the job training were largely unfounded and greatly exaggerated. The latest Kris Wu Debacle involved a trail of broken hearts, rumored pregnancies, a secret marriage, and an all out altercation regarding his poor attendance and performance for last semester’s management course.

“What ever happened to responsible journalism?” Yewon snorts. Wufan ignores her and continues. “Kim Joonmyun was up my case about this gala thing like I’m sitting there with every intention of not showing up. You’re in the tutor thing. Ever met him?”

“On many occasions.” Yewon reaches for the garbage bag but Wufan won’t let it go. “He’s a punctual bastard with a case of OCD and I’d totally hate his guts if he weren’t filthy rich and  if he didn’t fund my caffeine addiction.”

Wufan moves the garbage bag behind him. “He funds your caffeine addiction?”

Yewon shrugs and turns to the clothes on the table. “I come to the Beach House and I get a free cup. My goal is to seduce the guy and marry into the family and they’ll gift me with a condo and I won’t ever have to worry about rent ever again.”

“Hey…”

“I’m kidding,” she wryly says over her shoulder. “Your reputation supersedes you, deal with it. It’s not the first time. Won’t be the last time.”

There’s a moment of comfortable silence while Wufan clears the trash and Yewon digs into her clothes. “You should’ve told me you were kicked out of your last apartment,” he says eventually. “You can call me about your cramps, but you won’t tell me about this.”

Yewon folds a skirt first. “I wasn’t kicked out. I moved out. Besides, this is better. Closer, cozier…” She looks around and sighs. “Fits right into the student stipend I get every month.”

Wufan distracts himself with the pile of clothes left to fold and organize. He lifts a tight-fitting blue dress by the straps. “How come I never see you wear this?”

“Because that’s what I wear when I go out on dates.”

“Ever went out with Joonmyun?” He gets a rolled up sock to his face.

“I can’t believe you’re actually threatened by Joonmyun’s Ideal Son Personified.”

“I am not threatened.”

“Right.”

Wufan lets the moment pass. It’s like shaking the screen to clear your progress on an etch-a-sketch. “I miss you” he wants to say. But Yewon would shrug him off and find something else to throw at his face. Literally. “Have you ever been to the reserved section of the main lib?”

“Why?” she answers absently, in the middle of a search for the missing half of a pair of socks. “Who’d you do there?”

“I don’t…Shut up.” She’s laughing and he spots the elusive neon green sock she’s searching for and fishes it out for her. “There’s a book called Summon Your Own Supernatural Being: No Blood Sacrifices Required there. Right next to How To Seduce Your Computer in Five Easy Steps.”

“Sounds legit.”

“I helped this girl—”

Yewon snorts in a matter that would have been unattractive had Wufan not been around her for more than half his life. “Last I was aware, you check out books from the library. Not girls.”

“I was being a gentleman.”

“And given your height, it would be helpful, of course, to reach for the book she oh-so-desperately needs. Was she pretty?”

“I can’t stop looking at her.”

The smirk disappears from Yewon’s face and she busies herself with picking out shirts in the same color family. “So? Ask her out.”

“I don’t know who she is. I didn’t get to ask. She just ran away after she hit my nose and grabbed her book. She was so weird.”

“Weird like Roo being cast as Cinderella? Or weird like you being attracted to Cindere-Luhan?” SMA is an all boys school. It came with the sad reality that some theater programs came with the unfortunate cross-dresser role. Lu Han got those roles by default, much to his chagrin.

“Weirder, I think.”

“Let me guess.” Yewon stands and shuttles the folded pieces of clothing and drops them into a drawer. “It’s a totally cliche movie moment where she reaches for a book too high on the shelf, you help her, she’s startled and she elbows your pretty face, you guys fall over, and boom, love at first sight.”

He passes her another batch of clothes. “I can’t believe you still have this.” On the top of his stack is a Hello Kitty shirt from middle school. “And I wouldn’t say love at first sight.”

“So what, are you gonna go find her or something?” she asks quietly. “Wait for her at the library or something? Charm your way so you can look at the library records and trace whoever checked the book out last?”

“I didn’t think of that.” He mishears her cuss, but he could be wrong. “What?”

“You’re really going to creep on her?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know yet. What would you do?”

Yewon falls into her chair and piles her socks together. “I’d wait for destiny because destiny owes me.”

“Yezi,” he softly says, crouching next to her. “Hey.”

“Sorry.” She forces a smile. “Suddenly moody and things. You know me.” She cuts a glance in the direction of her alarm clock set next to her bed. “You have class. You should go.”

“I have class?” Because he was away, Yewon registered his classes for him this semester.

Yewon pushes him out to the door. “You can’t be late. I emailed you your schedule, didn’t you check?”

“I will now?”

“What is that?” Yewon asks, pointing at the sunflower in his bag.

He pulls it out and hands it to her. “Some cute little thing jumped me with a hug and told me to have a nice day. Must be part of Lulu’s flower thing.”

“Roo isn’t in the Sunflower Club.” Gingerly, she takes it, near dilapidated state and all.  She gazes longingly at the flower and presses it to her nose. “Xingzi is. Roo’s just there to make sure the club is not what he thinks it is. Or to make sure the club is exactly what he thinks it is. Something. I’m not sure.”

“It might be lucky.”

“I’ll need it.”

Wufan lingers by the threshold, hand on the doorframe, not quite ready to leave. On the bedside table, right next to her alarm clock is a picture of him, Yewon, and Lu Han on their first day of university. Wufan had his arm around her, his lips pressed against her cheek. Yewon was all bright smiles while Lu Han made a face of mock disgust.

“Hey.” He stops himself from reaching out to touch her. Yewon cranes her head up to look at him. “If you need help.” He waves a finger vaguely around the room. “You can tell me. I want to help you.”

“I’m fine,” she says, stubbornly shaking her head. “I can fight my battles.”

“Yewon.”

“This is why we broke up, remember?”

They were a couple from the end of middle school and until their first year in university. Somehow, it worked. Wufan and Lu Han went to SMA, and Yewon from the sister school right across the street. They were kids, and they argued a lot, but even then they were inseparable. Until three years ago.

“I remember. I’ll see you, I guess.”

“I’ll call you.”

He leans in to embrace her, holding her tight to convey the things he cannot say. Yewon pushes him away first. “You’re already late.”

Wufan walks away, hands in his pocket. Maybe he isn’t ready for this after all.