CHAPTER THIRTEEN.  

Outfit check;  

    Kimmy J. denim dress over blouse.  Stella McCartney leather Heart bag to accessorize.  Ultra high ponytail.  Sky-high stilettos that were splittingly painful at the toes, but looked purposeful. 

    The ends of my hair brushed my shoulder blades as I pushed through the door, stopping at the entrance.  I wasn’t expecting much of a response, because Myungsoo sat right in the middle of the classroom, basking in the limelight.    

    I narrowed my eyes.  Next to the Classroom Heart-throb was Hyuna, three inches too close, both of them laughing quietly over something on her Kindle.  They were even sharing headphones.  

    What the hell? 

    She looked up, startled the slightest when she saw me.  I walked right up to her.  

    “Hey, Nae.  What’s up?” she took out the earplug, turning the tablet screen face down.   

    I gave her a bitter smile, putting a hand on my hip, “Hey, missed you yesterday.” 

    “What?” 

    “M-M-Y?” I stressed each syllable, feeling my patience simmering down.  

    I could tell she was trying to look passive, sitting up straighter, tapping her nails on the desk.  “I was going to tell you—”

    “Like you were going to tell me about your little get-together this weekend? I don’t remember getting an invite,” I snapped.  

    Her face faltered, and she dropped her hands to her lap.  “How did you—”

    Myungsoo perked up a little, along with the rest of the class listening in on our conversation.  My eyes scanned the room.  It wasn’t time for public humiliation.  Not now.  

    T-minus ten minutes before homeroom.  

    I leaned in closer and whispered, “Want to take this outside, sweetie?” 

    She stiffened, biting the inside of her cheek.  “Gladly.” 

    With a breath, she stood up, giving me a wavering glare.  Then I followed her out, shutting the door behind me.  

    The two of us stood outside in the empty hallway, staring at eachother for a while.  I was daring her to speak first— shoot me down, break into waterworks, whatever.  

    “You better have a really good excuse for this, H.” I cocked my chin up.  

    “Excuse? For what! I just wanted to do something on my own for once, sue me,” she threw her arms up in the air, clearly more anxious than annoyed.  No amount of makeup or leather can ever cover up internal blemishes.  It was more than evident that she was over-neutralizing her words.  

    “Kim Hyuna,” I let out a small laugh before looking away, “did I do something to make you upset?” 

    She remained quiet before scoffing, “What the , Naeun?” 

    I tried not to react— but I wasn’t sure whether my face was giving away just how taken aback I was.  

    “Okay.  Let me break this down for you: you have a serious problem with micro-managing people.  I’m pretty sure you can tell that I’m a little more than upset with you being a to me, especially as of late.” 

    “Hey, Donald Trump, are you finished?” I clenched my hand into a fist at my sides, “you’re supposed to be my friend.” 

    “You mean a follower!” she practically screeched.  

    “What’s that supposed to mean?” I stomped my heel down on the floor, “you’re the one that ditched us for a couple of knock-off-wearing frauds.” 

    Then I noticed people were listening in on the fight, some circling around us, others listening through the door.  

    “Why? Does it annoy you that I actually have other friends? The fact you think this entire world revolves around you just makes me cringe.” 

    Where the hell was all this coming from?(!) 

    “It makes you cringe? Why? Did you over-do it this time— the injections?” I smirked.  

    If this was kindergarten, I would’ve thrown crayons on the floor and cried until we were nothing more than untied shoelaces, broken Barbie dolls, and a pair of reconciled friends.  

    But this isn’t kindergarten.  I couldn’t let her step on me and get away with it.  I wanted to cry and scream and kick.  I wanted to cry, scream, kick, and then talk to her about it.  More than anything, I wanted to apologize.  

    But the flickering light bulb in my brain is starting to spark, kicking in all the resentment I’ve ever felt towards her to my gut.  The bulb is catching fire, flame is swimming in circles around my head, smoke is glazing over my eyes until I can’t see.  

    She was fuming.  Unlike me, Hyuna couldn’t hide her emotions.  She was just more personable like that.  “You are such a .”

    “Got anything more to say? Might as well just let everything out, while you’re carrying out self-assisted social suicide.” 

    “I’m so glad things turned out this way.  You think things are actually going to go your way this time? Not with L around, you self-absorbed—”

    I stood toe-to-toe with her, staring her down.  I flashed a smile, in turns soft, but sardonic.  “Hey, Hyuna? Dogs don’t bark at their owners.  You’ve got the wrong .” When I flicked her hair, she grabbed at my wrist, gripping it so tight her nails were leaving marks.  I tried not to flinch, even though my knuckles were going white.  

    “What did you just say?” 

    “Let go,” I shoved her away, wringing the sore skin.  We hear