Soojung’s kind of parties weren't actually parties per se. More than anything else, they were tame, low-key gatherings where most of our classmates and some people from other classes in our grade gathered in her enormous, gorgeous house and mingled, watching movies in her home theater, eating takeout by the pool or playing snooker and foosball in her huge games room. 

But still, everyone generally agreed that her parties were great, mostly because the guys thought her older sister was hot and the girls thought that the guys Soojung always invited—she occasionally extended invitations to outsiders—were hot. Basically, everyone at Soojung's parties knew everyone else, and Soojung's parties were the place to be. Soojung's parents were ridiculously rich and her sister was a fashion designer who spoiled Soojung shamelessly with branded clothes and expensive gadgets that Soojung flaunted with the nonchalance that came with growing up privileged. Adding on to that, Soojung was beautiful, the kind of chic, untouchable beautiful, and all that combined made Soojung the de facto queen of our grade. 

When Jongin and I entered there were already people lounging around on the expensive sofas Soojung’s mom had scattered around the gigantic living room. Almost everyone looked up to say hi or give me a hug, and Jongin got pulled into conversations by a few guys he hadn’t seen for awhile before we managed to detach ourselves to look for Soojung or Jinri. Jongin walked slowly, his back stiff, and I matched my steps to his.

We found Soojung on the phone in a smaller, private living room our group of friends always used when we came over. She held up a finger, said goodbye, then hung up before turning to us.

“Took you guys long enough.” This was Soojung’s version of a greeting.

“Nice to see you too,” I said dryly. 

Soojung raised her eyebrows at Jongin. “I haven’t seen you in awhile.”

“You’re the one who didn’t visit often enough,” he snorted.

“I’m a busy girl,” Soojung said haughtily, but she smiled, hugging him, taking care to be careful. Then she slung a thin arm around me, pinching my cheeks. I could say with full confidence that Jinri may have been the closest to Soojung in our group, but Soojung had a special soft spot for me. I liked to think that it was because I was just so lovable that even Jung Soojung herself couldn't resist me. 

I slipped an arm around her firm, slim waist in response, squeezing her affectionately. "Missed you, Soojung."

"Hello to you too, shortie," she grinned fondly. I scowled at her and she laughed then looked at Jongin. "So, how's your waist?"

Jongin grimaced, his face darkening. "I'm out of anything physical for the next three months."

"Good," Soojung said bluntly. "You need a break. It was stupid of you to keep pushing yourself."

"Don't I know it," Jongin laughed dryly. "My mom and Arang tell me that all the time."

"Arang is as good as your mom anyway."

I snorted as Jongin grinned. "You do realize you're comparing her to an ahjumma?"

"She certainly acts like one," Soojung said offhandedly before the both of them started to snicker. I only sighed; their favorite pastime when they got together was teasing me. I let them, I didn't really mind it. I actually liked how they had stayed close even after they broke up since it meant I could hang out with all of my friends without feeling awkward.

I just rolled my eyes at them. “Where’s Jinri?” 

“She went to get snacks—Sehun was hungry.”

“Ah,” I said, an involuntary sigh, as Jongin asked at the same time, “Where is he?”

“Outside.” She nodded her head toward the sliding glass doors leading outside to the garden. “Smoking.”

Jongin raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Really?” 

“Nasty habit,” she grimaced before looking at me. “Get him to quit.”

I laughed; my stomach fluttered at the thought of talking to him again, much less convincing him to kick a habit. “I haven’t talked to him in three years. What makes you think he’d quit just because I told him to?”

Soojung opened to say something, but then Jinri appeared in the doorway, face lighting up when she spotted Jongin and me. We had only seen each other twice over the holidays, and I smiled back. 

“Arang,” Jinri cried delightedly, reaching out to pull me into a hug, but then the glass door slid open and a rush of cold air swept straight in on the heels of the one person I had been longing and dreading to see. My stomach clenched and I was sure the blood drained from my cheeks. I hoped I wasn't going to be sick on Soojung's carpet. 

Jinri's hand squeezed my arm reassuringly, but my eyes stayed on Sehun who was frowning down at his phone.

My heart stilled for a moment before it started again, beating harder and faster, like a bird taking off for flight. 

“Sehun,” Jongin said, and Sehun looked up and his face brightened when he noticed us, light brown hair falling over his eyes—did he dye his hair?—as the corners of his mouth turned up in a brilliant smile. I in a sharp breath; it wasn’t fair, it was absolutely ridiculous, it felt like I was fifteen all over again. 

“Jongin,” Sehun grinned and they were hugging—was he actually taller than Jongin now?—and I stood there dumbly, eyes fixed, wishing I was anywhere but here but not daring to leave. Then Jongin was released, and he stepped back. 

He smiled at me, but there, I could see the changes now—his eyes seemed even darker, his smile sharper—and held out his arms. My heart soared, bursting into song. Absolutely ridiculous, I repeated to myself, even as I drank in the intoxication of his presence hungrily.

“Come here, Lee Arang.”

“Jerk,” I managed to get out, but I stumbled forward into his embrace anyway anyway, my legs buckling beneath me in my body's haste to move forward automatically, drawn like a moth to flame. We slotted together perfectly, missing jigsaw pieces reunited, curves and angles fitting into familiar places.

His long arms folded around me, a personal cocoon of warmth, and I felt like I was a child again.

I breathed Sehun in, clutching at him, but not daring to wrap both arms entirely around him like I normally would. I knew if I did, I probably would hold on for longer than appropriate, ex best friend or not. The smell of cigarette smoke clung to him. There was another thing that changed. 

“You smell awful, Sehun,” I muttered into his shoulder. His laughter rumbled through his chest, deeper and richer than I remembered. Hands came up to touch my shoulders lightly; I swallowed hard. Made myself step back. He held me at arms' length, as if he was assessing all the physical changes he could see in me. Then he smiled and I sighed unconsciously. 

“Hello to you, too,” Sehun said, and his eyes curved. I looked away—I wanted so badly to ask him so many things—and met Jongin’s eyes. “Wow, everyone's so different.”

“A lot of things are,” Jongin laughed, moving forward and placing a hand on my shoulder, anchoring me to the ground. I leaned into him gratefully; dependable Jongin. His arm tightened around me.

“We all are,” Sehun shrugged nonchalantly. His eyes alighted briefly on Jongin's hand on my shoulder, and I shifted self-consciously. Then he looked over my shoulder to the open door and the milieu of people outside and called, “Taemin!”

He sent me one more pointed look and a Cheshire Cat smile that spoke of questions, promised “I’ll talk to you later” and walked off to greet more old friends. Jinri touched my hand and whispered a quick greeting, seeming relieved that things weren’t awkward so far, and followed him. My eyes did too. His shoulders were so broad, and he was so tall and his hair so light that I could spot him easily wherever he went in the growing crowd packed into Soojung’s house. 

“How does it feel seeing him again?” Soojung asked quietly. Her eyes were knowing.

“He looks so grown up," I murmured dazedly, "It's....I don't know."

Jongin’s arm was still around my shoulders; he gently turned me around so that I was no longer staring in Sehun’s direction.

“C’mon,” he said kindly, hand on my elbow as he steered me away. He didn’t say it exactly, but I could hear it. I couldn’t expect anything different; we weren’t going to remain the same forever.

I exhaled. Yes, things were different and Sehun was too.

Not everything changed though. 

Sehun’s eyes still crinkled, upturned crescents appearing when he grinned. When he laughed at a joke and turned to me to share a secretive look just like when we were kids who somehow made an inside joke out of everything, his smile was still so blinding white and stunning that it only pulled my own from me before I looked away.

Minho oppa teased Sehun, asked if the Beijing girls were pretty, and he only grinned secretively which made the other guys pounce: did he have a girlfriend there? Was she pretty? How old was she, was she tall and glamorous or small and petite?

Yes, he did, and she was pretty, she had the cutest smile, she—

I