“He’s coming inside.”

Aya gently admonished her friend to shut up.

“And he’s looking around.”

“Really, now?" She shook her head, sighing.

Her friend chewed on her lasagna, producing yummy sounds that had nothing to do with the pasta’s scrumptiousness as much as it had with the god-like human now scanning the cafeteria’s population in search for his girlfriend. She twirled the tips of her wavy hair. “Gosh is he gorgeous.”

“Wave him over,” said another friend who was ogling just as hungrily at the boy.

Instead of complying, Aya simply rolled her eyes and went back to skimming her notes. What a knack it was of hers; easily maintaining concentration amidst nonstop squeals and giggles. The girls from the speed class were dead smart, but they were fairly naughty as well, not in any way flashy, but regardless.

All these, however, did not go unnoticed by an observant Baekhyun settled in an adjacent slab. His friends were being their usual rowdy selves, and Baekhyun occasionally threw in his own raucous remarks. But his attention was mostly pinned elsewhere: towards Aya.

Second year had just started, but Aya’s class, apparently, had already plunged into quizzes. Once again, Baekhyun winced with the thought of having nothing else to do except pore over books and memorize stuff which had no actual bearing in real life. And then he reminded himself that Aya was also part of the student council, and he winced even more.

How perfect a daughter she must be. Baekhyun considered the contrast. He wasn’t a renegade in the family, but he didn’t (and would never) consider himself an ideal (not even close) son either.

But if Aya were a perfect daughter, why did something always seem amiss to him? Did it have anything to do with her perfect smiles? Or her untarnished selflessness? Or her promising scholastic records? Or even (he didn’t want to admit it but what the heck) Sehun?

Baekhyun’s brows knit at the thought. Oh Sehun. Was it he who caused her perfection? Was it he who inspired her to always be excellent? He nearly scoffed (he stopped himself at the last second, or else his friends would grow suspicious of his inattention). What on earth would that spoiled brat cause Aya, really? How exactly would his lack of likable characteristics inspire Aya to be the perfection that she was?

Speaking of the devil, Sehun suddenly materialized and pranced past Baekhyun’s table and paused by the next one. Baekhyun was well too able to hear the collective gasp the table’s occupants produced. He wanted to roll his eyes—except, once again, he didn’t want his friends to accuse him of eavesdropping.

“Aya.”

Baekhyun was pretty sure the voice didn’t go louder than a murmur, but the silence it rendered was absolute—at least in their corner of the cafeteria. Now that his friends had turned their attention to Sehun, Baekhyun no longer had to eavesdrop. He easily turned his head towards Sehun, then to Aya.

“Yes?” Aya didn’t look up to acknowledge her boyfriend. Not yet.

“Do you have a minute?”

“Yeah, sure.” But she went on scribbling more notes into her already condensed ones.

The audience was vigilant. Let that be credited to three things. First, Sehun was never known to hang around the cafeteria during breaks. If he ever ate meals or nibbled snacks, he must be doing it someplace else, because the cafeteria never seemed to haul him in like it normally did to gluttonous people. Second, everyone had long suspected that he and Aya were going out. Despite this, however, neither of them confirmed nor displayed affections in public. In reality, people only concluded the two’s relationship based on their daily walk home, occasional dinner outs (which neither of them kept in secret, apparently), and Sehun’s strange preference of speaking only to Aya. They never seemed to speak beyond school matters in public so Sehun suddenly asking for a minute felt like a big thing. Last, well, just because the audience had chosen to be vigilant.

“Aya.”

“Hm?” When she finally looked up, she was stunned of the tensed silence. She quick-scanned their audience then gazed back at Sehun. “What… is it?” She noticed how Sehun seemed particularly on edge. What could have happened?

Fear was instantly crawling through her veins when the thought of her parents having discovered her secret dance sessions with him flashed in her mind. The past two months had been off the grid, right? Neither of them seemed transparent, right? But what could have warranted his untimely presence? Was she in trouble? Was he in trouble, too?

“What is it?” She asked again. She braced herself for the worst as she scooped her things into her arms and carefully rose from her seat. She could stand another round of pointless lecturing from her parents but Sehun; he had nothing to do with this.

Aya was wedging out of her seat when Sehun suddenly said, “It’s her.” She froze.

Her as in the girl he’d been avoiding since the time he transferred