Entry 2. Apr. 6, 2014

I have Kris’s number.

OMG. I can’t believe it. I HAVE KRIS’S NUMBERRRRR <3

even though he probably hates my guts right now and wants to tear my head off, or switch partners, which is worse

Okay. I probably sound weird and partially demented, I know. But it’s not like I collect a hot guy’s —I mean, classmate's—number all the time. I mean I’m popular enough to do that, but people are too idiotic to see how famous I am.

Or how famous I’m going to be, at least. Because admit it. We all know Huang Zitao’s going to be some renowned rich businessman or rapper or something one day.

Y'all better save my signature in your yearbooks, because I'm telling you it's going to be worth millions in the future. Of course, I want fifty percent of whatever you earn from my autograph.

But I digress (whatever the hell that means).

I asked for Kris's number in science class. We’re having a stupid project about the human body. It’s a project with twelve people and we pair up for six pairs total, and our group consists of me (obviously), Kris, Bacon, his boyfriend Lee/Park Chanyeol, Chen, Sehun, Luhan, Lay, Suho, Xiumin and two other random people that I don’t know, Kyungsoo-I-like-to-be-called-D.O. and Kai. It’s a coincidence that Bacon and Lee/Park Chanyeol are in the same class, as well as Kris and me. We were trading numbers, and I stepped up nervously and asked tentatively, “Can I have your number?”

He looked at me weirdly. “For the project,” I explained with a slight stutter. “Bacon—I mean, Baekhyun—and Chanyeol paired us together.” I quickly corrected myself on Bacon's name. I'd been calling him that for so long I almost forgot he had another name, a birth name.

Personally I think his mother should've just stuck with Bacon.

“Why us?” He asked in a sort of intrigued tone that sounded more disgusted, and it broke my heart stung a little.

It must’ve shown on my face, because he added quickly, “Not that it’s bad or anything. You’re smart. What are we doing it on?”

With my heart threatening to burst out of my chest, I said, “We’re drawing straws. The group is doing six human body systems and we’re pairing up.” Sue me if I said that a bit nervously.

Kris looked off into the distance thoughtfully, crossing his arms. I was glad that I could’ve at least helped him (him, who at the time was leaning against the desk with a slight pout on his lips and posing like an elegantly handsome supermodel) and not look like a complete fool out of myself.

Until drawing straws.

Suho was holding the six long straws, and each one had a different label: Endocrine, Muscular, Digestive, Respiratory, Nervous, and Reproductive. Who the hell knew anything about them except for teacher’s pet Suho.

Excuse me—did you actually expect me to be paying attention in class?

As expected, foodies Bacon and Chanyeol got the digestive. Lay and Chen got respiratory, Sehun and Luhan got endocrine system, D.O. and Kai got the muscular, and finally it was down to me and Kris against Suho and Xiumin. There were only two straws, and it was reproductive and nervous system left. Xiumin wanted to go first, but out of some wild reason I jerked and grabbed the first straw I laid eyes on. To have the reproductive system with Kris would be awkward. Just awkward. We had to study our systems carefully, and I didn’t know what that meant. I wasn’t ready to watch , if that was part of the whole "studying the systems carefully" idea; I had innocent clean eyes that hadn’t been exposed to such gruesome filth—

Just then, a loud whoop rose from the opposite side of the table. Xiumin looked satisfied that he hadn’t picked first, while Kris stiffened behind me.

I’d jinxed it. Guess I should be readying myself to watch gruesome filth.

I turned around. Kris’s cold hard eyes nearly the courage out of me. “Can I have your number now?” I asked weakly.