“Don’t eat a heavy lunch. In fact, it would be to your advantage if you didn’t eat at all. See you at the auditorium later. And good luck.”

Those were Professor Kwon’s condensed final words to us at seven in the morning. Our school, as a mark of its eleven-year crowning glory, hosted the Sciences and Mathematics segments for the IAC. The former would consume the morning hours while the latter was to be held in the afternoon.

Lichen was continuously pacing the field’s perimeter, humming random melodies to herself in an attempt to shake off the jitters. Yixing, on the other hand, finally decided to unleash his musical talents to the public as he took out his guitar from its hiding place in his locker and plucked his apprehension away in soulful, fresh tunes while we were sitting on a bench underneath a tree. It was only the two of us; Lichen barely stopped by in her rounds while Sojin was somewhere else.

Upon Professor Kwon’s insistence, Sojin was sent to the infirmary to take a nap. Sojin didn’t bother to defend herself, as I would have imagined, and simply complied. I guessed, based on her weary eyes, that she, too, had not slept a single second last night. Maybe she was serious when she’d told Lichen nearly a year ago that she really was no good with competitions. I wondered what exactly she meant with ‘no good’.

“Just go, will you?” Yixing suddenly said beside me. He looked annoyed and playful at the same time. He strummed four more chords before sighing, “You’ve been spaced out since Sojin left us a few hours ago. Why don’t you just go to her? Watch her sleep or something.”

“Shut up,” I hissed. He was grinning like a madman. I did want to drop by the infirmary to check on her.

Well, Yixing was right. So I stood and took my leave.

“Tell her I said hi,” Yixing hollered behind me.

I intended to round the auditorium on my way to the infirmary just to check how our Sciences team was faring. When I entered, I saw that the teams were arranged in such a way that they were positioned in the rectangular clearing and enclosed by audiences from different schools. It was humongous, the audience. And they were vigilant from their sitting positions in the low bleachers. I peered beyond to check on the score board, which was being projected in a large flat screen hanging from the ceiling of the stage. The device must be retractable as I couldn’t recall it always being showcased on stage.

From the looks of it, our school was way ahead of the others. Kyungsoo, in particular, perfected the first two rounds. He still didn’t have any mistake in the current round. I also noted how Shizo, originally just a reserve, was competing as an actual contestant. One of the regulars must have conceded.

In one corner of the hall, Baekhyun and some other Seniors were huddled together with frankly ridiculous banners being held up. They bore the names of our contestants and were decorated in messy script and graffiti. I suppressed a laugh. I’d kick that boy in the shin if he pulled off a similar stunt with us later on in the afternoon.

I backed away as stealthily as I had come in. The only thing bothering me with the venue’s setup was the way the contestants were seemingly being drowned within the audience. I wasn’t concerned about myself. I was worried for Sojin. She never fancied crowds. Maybe this was why she didn’t want to be in any contest. She really didn’t have a choice now.

The campus was a little deserted as I made my way towards the infirmary. Undergrads were in the middle of classes and the Seniors were probably either supporting our team in the auditorium or sleeping the fair Wednesday morning off someplace quiet.

As I pushed the doors to the infirmary open, I wondered if Sojin was actually asleep or was she still too disturbed to afford a nap.

It was neither.

The infirmary was empty. The lights were out and not a single bed was occupied. I doubted even the nurse was around. Where did Sojin go?

My panic was automatic, almost as if not knowing Sojin’s whereabouts was equivalent to not knowing where I was headed in life in general. This irrational concern - as Sojin had coined it - was going out of control. Shrugging it off, I hauled out my phone and dialled her number as I skipped back out and rushed for the Students Building.

I didn’t have to look for long, or to wait for her to answer, because as I ascended the Juniors lounge, Sojin was there. And I didn’t know which mattered more, my suddenly surging anger or hopelessly brewing confusion.

For a while the world was deafeningly silent. My eyes could not believe the scene before me. Legs crookedly sprawled behind her, Sojin was flattened against an array of metal lockers, her single crutch abandoned a few feet away. Thirty or so pupils - Juniors, I suspected - were huddled around her at a considerable distance. There was no sound. And then, very slowly, it was coming back, from a muffled hubbub to distinct chattering until I could vividly hear the shrilling voice of Jimin as she furiously ranted down on Sojin.

“You insufferable airhead! You Miss know-it-all miser! How the hell!” She meant to bend down even further but she was restrained by Jongdae behind her. “This is just pathetic!”

In my stupefaction, I wasn’t able to move. That was, until Jimin lunged forward, breaking free of Jongdae’s grip and raising a hand to strike at Sojin. I couldn’t think. But my feet had taken me who-knows-how-many leaps forward and one of my knees had touched down and my arm had risen above my head - all to dodge Jimin’s blow. I hadn’t intended it, but when I blocked her, I seemed to have pushed her away in the process, shoving her a few steps back in groggy balance. At first I felt apologetic for what I did, but then I remembered her intent and I was fuming again. I stood, only to be pulled back down.

“Don’t,” came Sojin’s voice from behind me, curt but soft.

“Of course, it’s your knight in shining armor!” Jimin shrieked at me. “How dramatic,” she scoffed. “Do you even know,” she was glaring at me now, “who your freakin girlfriend really is? To whom she is acquainted to? What she knows? What the hell!” Jimin looked like a beast, and I was glad Jongdae was doing a good job restraining her.

But at the mention of what Sojin knew, my confusion vanished. I knew what, or rather who she was referring to. I just couldn’t fathom why the outrageous reaction.

“Did you have the slightest idea that she and Jongdae were supposed to be betrothed?” Jimin spat, her face red. “Did you know that, Luhan?”

“Jimin -"

“And she wasn’t contented being arranged with Jongdae so she got his older brother to a marriage dinner, too! How desperate can a girl get?”

No. That wasn’t it at all. Either she had twisted the story completely or was deliberately misinformed. Unless.. Sojin had lied to me. I glanced sideways for any rebuttal from Sojin. But she didn’t respond.

It was Jongdae who spoke next. “Jimin, I believe you’ve got it all wrong.”

Jimin scoffed heavily. I suspected it was the hundredth time she did so. “Either you’re kidding yourself, Jongdae, or she’s lied to you, too.”

“She isn’t lying, Jimin.” Jongdae wouldn’t look at me. There was something foreboding with his calmness. “It was you who’d been lying all along.”

At this, Jimin froze in her physical struggling. She breathed deep.

“And I’d been stupid,” Jongdae finished, relinquishing his grip.

Jimin rounded so that she was facing him entirely. At least I’d been enlightened about Sojin and her connections with Jongdae and his brother, but whatever was going on between the Jimin and Jongdae, I had absolutely no idea. I still hadn’t spoken with Jongdae since the accident. Well, except when he had attempted to talk to me in the rooftop of Lemon Hospital.

Jongdae cleared his throat and eyed Jimin hard. “If there’s anyone to blame here, Jimin, that would be you.”

“How can you say that?” She didn’t wait for an answer. She waved her hand, gyrated on her heels and looked at me. “Yes, I am going to that stupid hearing. For the sake of everything that still makes sense, I’ll be attending.” And then she stormed away, leaving us thunderstruck with her unbridled fit. I didn’t even know how long she’d been attacking Sojin when I came.

Sojin’s groan reminded me that she was still sprawled miserably behind me. I turned and kneeled down completely, taking her face in my hands.

“Sojin, are you all right? What happened?”

She didn’t answer. She gently pushed away my hands and strived to stand. Her crutch. I looked behind to supposedly grab the walking aid when Jongdae suddenly appeared beside me, Sojin’s crutch already within his grasp. He passed it to Sojin and when their eyes met, an inner turmoil in the form of raw envy brewed inside me.

Nobody spoke as Sojin replaced the clutch beneath her right arm, adjusted it and tested her stance. She didn’t appear particularly hurt.

“Since when?” Jongdae asked. He was speaking to Sojin.

“I can’t be sure -"

“Since when, Sojin?” Jongdae repeated in a more commanding tone. “And please don’t tell me it was just your gut feeling, because we all know your gut feelings are always - always - correct.”

Sojin closed her eyes, hung her head. After three long, deep breaths she said, “Since my hearing two years ago.”

And two years, whate