CHAPTER TWELVE.

“Read it.” 

    “I don’t get it.  Why do you even care?” he picked up the envelope anyways, opening the seal with one finger.  

    “You’re rejecting the girl without even giving her a chance?” I scoffed playfully.  Sungyeol slid into the free seat, setting the tall styrofoam cup in front of me.  

    “What did I miss?” 

    “Mr. Pissy Spacek over here thinks he’s too good for a girlfriend-hopeful.” I popped the top of the latte off, letting the layer of foam freeze over.  

    Myungsoo narrowed his eyes.  

    “Myungsoo’s being a , what else is new?” Sungyeol yelped when Myungsoo not-so-subtly kicked his shin underneath the table.  

    With a sigh, Myungsoo gave in and finally read the letter before setting it down and giving us a rather hypercritical-judgemental stare.  “Now what.” 

    “I don’t know, you aren’t even the least bit interested?” Sungyeol and I leaned closer expectantly.  

    “Honestly? No.” 

    “Worth a try,” I bit down a smile. 

    “Doesn’t it feel nice to read all those nice things about you?” Sungyeol resumed the game on his Samsung.  

    “You’re so handsome, oppa.  I like you a lot.  Let’s go out—” Myungsoo grimaced, “They don’t even know me.  It’s like I’m some sort of trophy.” 

    It was like the more I spoke to him, the more he seemed to open up.  

    We sat and talked for another hour.  I was half-glad Sungyeol was there, so the atmosphere wasn’t as awkward.  Before Myungsoo could even direct another jab at me, Sungyeol cracked a joke that threw us into laughter.  I didn’t care about anything at that moment.  

    I didn’t have to make my laughs sound all feminine and high-pitched.  I didn’t check for coffee stains, or bother with the sugar restriction (hell, I finished the latte and split a muffin with Sungyeol).  I didn’t wait for phone calls from my parents that never came.  

    Screw enemies-with-benefits, the two people I never thought I’d be friends with made me feel the most comfortable in a while.   

    But was being the coveted trophy a bad thing? 

                        ~

The week went by like a breeze.  

    Some things that happened: 1) Myungsoo took Woohyun’s spot as number one in Woollim’s academic scores, 2) I stopped counting calories, 3) I got the Suecomma Bonnie Pop pumps (in white!).  Everything was going smoothly, again.  I thought everything worked out after that day with Myungsoo and Sungyeol.  

    God, I was so stupid.  

The following week, however, seemed a bit… off, to say the least.  

    “It’s that time of the year, ladies,” Kyungri yelled, sticking her head through the girl’s bathroom door.  

    Gasps.  My hand froze mid-air, still holding my mascara wand until I capped it quickly and nudged Hara’s arm.  She nodded urgently, sweeping all our makeup off the marble counter and following behind me and Dasom.  

    We don’t typically run down the hall.  Actually, I don’t run for anything.  But this was a special occasion.  

    “Moving through, people!” I shot my arm out between the sides of two girls blocking the front of the crowd.  People fanned out, making way for us.  I tried not to make it obvious that I was out of breath, my palms clammy with sweat.  

    Dasom squeezed Purell into her hands, frowning.  

    The three of us crossed our arms in unison, eyes glimmering.  

    And there, pasted on top of the bulletin board was the blank M-my showcase poster.