“So, did you hear?”

    I twirled the dial on my padlock, shutting my eyes momentarily until I opened them again and the digits were no longer blurry.  “Hear about what?” I asked, a slight edge to my voice.  

    I mean, you couldn’t blame me.  I was two Venti Starbucks lattes away from mass homicide.  It was the first day back from winter break yet my outfit still didn’t seem to click.  I almost regret ditching my cameroo Marc by Marc tan flats last minute.  Almost.  The flats were a little too glamorous for my first day back.

    It made me wonder if putting together the petition for a uniform ban was a mistake.  Nope.  Freshman year really was a high for me.  

    “The yearbook club geeks are starting up the riot again.  You know, about having a school news paper instead of a daily news segment?”

    “Ohmigosh,” I muttered, heaving a sigh.  I felt the chia seed smoothie I had this morning make a U-turn.  The news segment was the only thing that kept me teetering on the first rung of the social ladder.  My news segment.  Woollim in a Minute was a weekly broadcasting hit through the academy- the middle schoolers in the junior school practically trumped.  Not to mention, I was the anchor of the news segment.  If the lead on air was dishing out gossip, reels, and advice for free, why would anyone want to displace that for a school newspaper? 

    “That’s not all,” the second in command of my foursome, Hyuna leaned dramatically against the locker next to mine, her voice even more raspier than usual.  To the girls and I, it sounded like she rolled out of bed with a mild case of laryngitis but the guys thought it was hotter than her long black mane.  Her cat-like eyes were a plus, only I knew they didn’t count ; grey colored contacts.

    Suddenly, the earth-toned snakeskin belt I had around my waist felt like an actual python, squeezing the air out of my body profusely.  Are people actually having second thoughts about me?

    “Go on,” I chided, trying to sound not the least bit worried.

    “They’re thinking of convincing the student body not to vote you as president or M-my representative at the end of the year.”

    “What?!” I practically screeched as I whipped my head around, my body tensing.

    Hyuna nodded, slathering a coat of Burt’s on her bottom lip.   “I know right? It’s like Les Miserables or something.”  She pushed up the sleeves of her fiery red angora fur sweater.  

    “What am I missing?” Dasom called out from the left, holding her chunky Prada totebag in one hand and a toasted bagel in the other.  Strands of her coif curls stuck to her gloss as she ran towards our direction.

    “Girlie, I missed you so much!” I pulled her into a light hug, trying to regress the thought of my news segment being terminated.  

    “Get it together,” Hyuna murmured jokingly, earning an equally playful kick from Dasom’s platform heels.  

    Then, I let out a laugh.  “D, are you wearing your field hockey kilt?”

    “Ohmygod, that’s right! Isn’t that from V cut?”  Hyuna pointed at the rolled-up skirt, breaking into soft giggles.

    Dasom’s nose flushed, embarassed.  “You wish you could pull it off.”

    As if on que, the last of our foursome, Hara joined in our tight circle.  She was wearing the same Hermes riding boots as mine but hers was black, not chestnut brown.  Her hair was tied into a loose chignon at the nape of her neck and she was wearing a bomber jacket, making her actually look kind of french. Jaquemus.  

    We kissed eachother on both cheeks, making smacking sounds.  It had become a routine ever since she came back from Milan Fashion Week.  

    “Did you sign up for the M-my showcase? I hear we’re going against SM this year,” Dasom says as we turn on our heels and walk down the hallway, pushing through people.  

    Hara sighed and pushed her Tiffany charm bracelet farther up her skinny arm.  “Not yet.  I thought we would sign up together like last year? Since Naeun’s the representative?”

    “Yeah, long story-”

    I cut Hyuna off by forcing my elbow into her gut.  “Obvi.  I just didn’t think about that yet.” She scoffed to my side and gathered a mass of curls to one side of her neck.  

    Hara’s phone blooped as her fingers flew over the touchscreen keyboard.  

    “Whosthat?” Dasom leaned over, struggling to strut in formation.  Hara giggled into her palm coyly.  

    “Rumor has it that there’s a new boy coming in today,” Hara singsonged, kicking up her heels.  Now, if this was a new girl, I would’ve actually cared.  I’d probably make sure she fell in line with the rest of the student body.  But, a boy? Never.  Boys were the least of my worries.  Unlike Hyuna, I was a head-on feminist, which drew some guys and repelled some guys.

    “So?”   

    “Two girls already spotted him in the office just now and- uhm, they’re talking about how freaking gorgeous he is?”

    Hyuna’s eyes seemed to lit up and she dragged a finger suggestively across her bold red lips.  “A flower boy? This is just the way to kick off the second semester!” 

    “Why? Going to use him as a flirt-dummy?”  I chortled, pulling down the hem of my cropped cardigan.  I set down the heel of my boots on the tiled ground and we picked up our footsteps again, walking perfectly in sync. Like we hadn’t missed a month of school.  Like we hadn’t forgotten the counts to Fergie’s “Here I come”.  

    “More like she wants to make out with him in the janitor’s closet,” Dasom said with a roll of her eyes.  

    “I have to make it to the B-cast.” We stopped infront of the media room, where I recorded my news segm