Tiffany doesn’t exactly go around publicizing her conditional telepathy. She didn’t ask for this strange ability; if she really wants a superpower, she will probably ask for something more useful, like time travel or teleportation. There’s not much use in only being able to read minds when you are engaged in a lip lock. When she draws back from a long, one-sided kiss and asked what is wrong, she doesn’t answer. A smile, a caress of the cheek, and everything is back to normal for him, though not for her. It’s the same scenario all the time, and by this point, it’s something that she is used to. She walks into school on Monday with the sole purpose of seeking out Sehun, before realizing that she doesn’t even know his name. Seoul High is pretty huge. It looks like one of those old, red-bricked buildings out of a Korean boarding school brochure, due to relatively wealthy alumni. Their huge compound has a cohort to match as well, with two hundred people in senior year alone. Needless to say, she is going to have quite a bit of trouble finding Sehun. She spends her precious few minutes before the first lesson of the day by her locker, greeting the numerous acquaintances she has gleaned over the past four years since moving and watching people as they rush off to reunite with their friends after the summer holidays. A pang of regret tugs at her heart, regret that she never took the time to invest in a friendship, but she brushes it aside. It’s too late for regrets anyway. When the bell rings, she is one of the first to enter the Economics class. She is pretty interested in learning and being able to customize the subjects she takes a senior is a huge plus. For once, she’s able to learn about things she actually has a tiny inkling of passion for. With this thought, she glances down at her schedule for the week: Economics, Chemistry, International Relations, Math, English, Music and Physical Education. Except for Music, she is satisfied with the classes she’s taking. “Alright, settle down, everyone,” the teacher chirps. She’s a young little thing, all blonde curls and blue eyes, looking more like a fresh-faced college student than an actual Economics teacher. When she looks at her again, though, she can tell she’s older than she gives her credit for; her eyes have a sharp look to them that tells her that she is not to be messed around with. Tiffany takes a seat in the second row. One of her resolutions this year is to pay more attention during lessons and sitting near the front is probably going to help her along. People begin flooding in, though not many actually know each other. Due to the large size of the cohort they tend to be jumbled about, having to mix around with different people. In fact, she’s likely to have different people in every class that she takes. She tries to put names to the faces. It’s hard. She doesn’t observe as much as she think she does. After a while, everyone just blends in with each other. People aren’t as unique as they like to think they are. She does recognize a few people from junior year though. There’s Kim Hyosung from Math, Kim Myungsoo from Biology, Krystal Jung from Englsih, Bae Suzy from Chemistry. She gives each of them a head nod and a smile, but they are not close enough to make any small talk. Someone sits in the chair to her left. “Hi Tiff,” he greets. It’s Byun Baekhyun, one of her teammates on the rowing team. She hesitates to call him a friend, because while they acknowledge each other and make small talk every once in a while, they don’t run in the same social circles. In fact, she doesn’t run in a social circle at all. She’s a floater. Nevertheless, she flashes a grin. “Hey Baekhyun. I didn’t know you take Economics.” “Never too late to give my dreams of becoming a rich banker a try, yeah?” he replies, eyes crinkling at the ends. Although he breaks hearts as often as she changes her underwear, Baekhyun’s got a certain puppy dog look to him that makes girls want to coddle him. They never learn. “Anyway, there’s training later. Three pm, at the lake. We’re going for a run first then doing some drills.” “Alright, thanks. The girls will take the route to the T-junction; you guys can go by the slope.” This year, Baekhyun is her fellow vice-captain of the rowing team. While she has no fancy aspirations of becoming a future rower, it is one of the few constants in her life. Their captain, Choi Siwon, is very dedicated captain, but a pain in the to work with. Just because she has to get along with him does not mean she has to enjoy it. The teacher, whose name she has yet to learn, shushes the class again. “I’m Ms Song, and I’ll be your Economics teacher for the year.” As she is about to go on outlining the year’s syllabus, someone rushes in. He is painting slightly, but one look and Tiffany can tell that he is faking it. “Sorry, I got lost,” he says. He tries to look apologetic, but it does not work on Ms Song. She rolls her eyes. “Hurry up and take a seat.” The only available seat is next to hers. Sehun sits down beside me, acknowledging her presence with a nod of the head as he does so. At least now she has a way of talking to him. His presence suddenly makes her anxious once again, to find out why exactly there was a silence when they kissed. He can’t possibly have no thoughts at all. After the curriculum overview, they move on to introductions. Since there are so many people in the various classes, each teacher take it upon themselves every year to form a ‘bonded’ class where students are comfortable sharing opinions and taking part in discussions. “We’ll start from you,” Ms Song says, pointing at a rather mousy-looking redhead with freckles and pale skin. “Name, subjects, after-school activities, what you like to do and why are you taking Economics.” “I’m Byun Baekhyun. I take Economics, English, History, Geography, Art and Math. I’m on the rowing team, I like to play the drums and I’m taking Economics because I want to be rich.” There’s a flurry of laughter of his last statement. Ms Song looks unamused, but she ignores it nevertheless and gesture for her to continue. “I’m Hwang Miyoung, but call me Tiffany. I’m taking Chemistry, Economics, Math, English, Music and International Relations. I’m in rowing and orienteering, like to row and orienteer, and take Economics because I find it interesting.” A simple, politically correct answer with a bit of wit. One can never go wrong with that. “My name is Oh Sehun. My subjects are Economics, Chemistry, Math, English, Art and International Relations. Uh, I just joined so I don’t have an after-school activity but I was a swimmer at my old school. I’m interested in cross country, rowing, rock climbing and if all else fails, the swim team. I like to take photos. I am taking Economics because…I like graphs.” Everyone greets him politely, but she can hear pockets of murmurs among the class. It’s not surprising. After all, he is a new student who is relatively attractive, athletic and has got a sort of charismatic awkwardness about him. She tunes out the rest of the introductions but make sure to catch everyone’s names. By the time they finish the whole class, they are left with only fifteen minutes. Ms Song takes advantage of the little time they have anyway, handing out a diagnostic essay and instructing them to hand it in by this Friday. The class groans collectively as they are given the news, but she simply narrows her eyes at us and tells us to go read up the essay guidelines on the school portal. The bell rings. Tiffany gets up from her seat quickly, wanting to catch Sehun before he disappears into the sea of people. He is already at the door by the time she has her bag. “Hey! Sehun!” she calls out. She catches up with him and takes a look at his schedule. “We’ve got Chemistry next. I’ll walk with you.” “Hi Tiffany, nice to see you too,” he deadpans. She ignores it. “Anyway, I need to speak with you.” “I don’t think now is a very good time. We have lessons in three minutes,” he says. He has a point, but he is avoiding her eyes and standing an arm’s length away from her even though they are walking to the same place. If he really is upset about Saturday, though, then now is not the time to talk about it. “Fine.” She gives in, knowing he is not going to budge. At least, not yet.