“How did you know that outsiders need an entrance permit?”

“I didn’t,” Baekhyun laughed, wiping a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead with the sleeve of his undershirt. “I was only trying to sound as though I knew what I was talking about, you know, seeming as if I were the policy maker myself. It feels good, I realized.”

Aya shook her head in both disbelief and awe. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

It was blazing hot at half past three in the afternoon and Baekhyun was earnestly mopping the floor of their school’s tennis court. In lieu of being suspended for two days, Baekhyun had agreed to render community service during his free time for an entire week. He was supposed to do janitorial services in the public park but Aya was so guilty for having him dragged into the commotion—even though it wasn’t her fault he decided to cut class in the first place—that she offered to the counselor to have the boy clean up athletic courts and volunteer for elementary tutorials instead. She had explained how their courts were in grave need of mopping and how tutorials were more worthwhile and noble an endeavor than sweeping up fallen leaves in the park. She did not stipulate that she was going to accompany Baekhyun during his cleaning hours and help him outline his tutorial sessions.

“You really don’t have to do this, Aya,” Baekhyun said after a few minutes’ silence. “I’m fine by myself. I’m grateful enough that you insisted to not have me clean the public park, like dude, I have the nastiest neighbors and playmates in the history of mankind—they are definitely going to feast on me.” He cringed at the very thought, dipping the mop into the pail of water.

“It’s okay, I have time.”

Baekhyun leered at her. “You’re a bad liar. You have tons to do. Wait,” he frowned. “Don’t tell me you’re smitten?”

“Not in a million years,” Aya rolled her eyes. “You’re not only flirty; you are also embarrassingly conceited.”

Baekhyun laughed again, his eye smile getting more and more pronounced. “I am fabulous. Therefore, I am allowed to be conceited.”

“You’re full of yourself,” Aya negated. Deep down, though, she knew that Baekhyun was such a sweet and kind-hearted boy whose better qualities were often overshadowed by his mischievous and extremely gregarious character.

If Aya had her suspicions, Baekhyun had his own theories as well. He had known Aya for years; they practically grew up together in school, albeit in different classes. But lately, he seemed to be unveiling an entirely new side of Aya—the realer side of her, that is. And he was becoming unfashionably bothered.

He was worried that the girl he thought he knew was the perfect model student of all time was actually worlds away from her true identity. There were times when he regarded her from afar and he would notice the way she held herself as stiff as an iron rod, as though she were constantly under harmful, external pressure. But of course no one would suspect that. He thought he wasn’t even supposed to suspect that, because maybe she was just firm on herself. Besides, she was always kind and gentle and helpful (he was the recipient of that kindness at the moment) and if she weren’t being her true self, would that mean she was faking it all? She wasn’t like that. She wouldn’t stoop that low. And Baekhyun believed in his musings a hundred percent.

“Who were those people anyway?” Baekhyun finally voiced. “That’s the third time I encountered them and I feel like I should be concerned. Well, I already am concerned.”

Aya, seated on the bottom step of the bleachers, stretched her legs. “Just people I happen to be accountable to.”

“Okay?” Baekhyun wasn’t satisfied. “Accountable in what way?”

“Accountable in some binding way.”

Baekhyun snorted. “How elusive you are.”

“Are you not done yet?”

“Almost, baby.”

Aya could not help chuckling at his random, totally cheesy endearments. “Okay.”

But Baekhyun was not done in his interrogations. “What’s the matter with Sehun, Aya? I mean, I get it that he’s not exactly a sociable person, but really, something is seriously wrong with that kid.” He had to raise his voice as he stripped the rest of the court that his words resonated around the empty hall in repeated echoes.

It was Aya’s turn to burst out laughing. “You won’t believe this but Sehun actually asked me the exact same thing.” She stood and slowly trailed the edge of the step one foot after another. “He thinks something’s seriously wrong with you because you can’t stop talking to and socializing with and bugging people. You two are perfect extremes.”

“Hah!”

“Sehun is actually cool when you get to know him.”

“He only appears cool because of his impassive face, admit it. Other than that, he’s a curiously obnoxious kid. I don’t get it how you can put up with him.”

“His exact same words about you,” Aya replied. “He doesn’t get it why I am able to put up with someone as—according to him—boisterous as you.”

“At least I’m alive.”

“He’s a good friend, Baekhyun.”

“A good friend with queer ways of maintaining friendship.”

“A good friend, regardless,” Aya insisted, smiling.

Baekhyun gathered his cleaning materials and walked up to her. “You are definitely together.”

“We are definitely not.”

“Don’t kid yourself, Aya. Look at the way he takes care of you—notwithstanding his dangerously harsh disposition, I mean. Can’t you see he’s only functioning as a human when he’s around you?”

“You haven’t seen him much, then.”

“Oh, I’d rather not, baby.” Baekhyun proceeded to the utilities room to return the cleaning materials. “But that’s not what bothers me, really.” He had returned and he was leading Aya out of the now-shimmering courts. “I’m your friend, too. And if you’re having concerns with him, you should tell me. I might be able to help.”

“What are you, then, our mediator?”

“No,” Baekhyun chuckled. “But maybe. I don’t know. Just do feel free to confide in me.”

“Confidants are usually melancholic in nature, Baek. I don’t think you have a fiber of melancholy in