There's silence on the other end, and then:

"Haeri? Are you crying? Where are you?"

At his voice, she only cries even more, knowing how pathetic she sounds. "I'm sorry," she sobs helplessly.

"There's nothing to be sorry about," he responds tenderly. "But you need to tell me," he continues, suddenly stern, "where you are. It's getting dark out."

"Alright. I'm at the park."

"I'm coming to get you."

"Thank you so much. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

There's a sad sigh. "I really meant it when I said there's nothing be sorry about. I'll see you in a couple minutes, okay?"

"Okay," she whispers. The line goes dead.

The next few minutes seem like an eternity. Finally, she sees his red car turn the corner, and she stands up on unsteady legs and makes her way over. The inside of the car is warm and comfortable and familiar. Sehun looks her over with concern, and, once he deems her kind of okay, sets off again.

"Where are we going?"

"My house," he answers, eyes watching the road carefully. "We'll talk then."

Soon enough, Sehun pulls up in his driveway. He takes Haeri's hand in his own firmly, as if he knows that she's going to fall down at any moment, and then walks into the house with her. Sehun's parents are both sitting in the brightly lit kitchen, reading newspapers over cups of tea. Haeri realizes with guilt that she must have called in the middle of dinner. When they turn to greet the pair, Haeri shrinks back, expecting hatred or dislike at the very least, but they smile at her.

"Haeri, how are you?"

She manages a wan smile. "To be honest, I've been better." Everyone laughs lightly as Sehun and Haeri continue through the kitchen and up the stairs. Haeri's never been to Sehun's room, so it's with a little apprehension that she walks in. But there's nothing to fear. Sehun's room is clean and neat. His walls are painted a light greyish blue that matches his bedsheets and pillow. A medium sized desk and book case take up the other half of the room. The desk is undecorated except for two picture frames: one of him with his friends, and the other of him with Haeri on their first date.

Haeri swallows and takes a tentative seat at the edge of Sehun's bed. He settles down next to her. For a minute, they do nothing. Then, Sehun places a hand on Haeri's hand.

"Obviously, something big happened today. Would you like to tell me?"

Haeri takes a deep breath, thinking about how much she doesn't deserve Sehun, and begins. She starts from the beginning and tells him everything. She and Lina's supposed best friendship, the mysterious text messages that began and stopped just as suddenly, she and Lina's growing apart, and then becoming close again after she and Sehun broke up. And she tells him about being at Lina's house and finding the cellphone and the terrible, terrible truth: that Lina was behind everything.

After she finishes, there's silence once again. Today, Haeri notes wryly, just seems to be filled with silence.

"I'm sorry," Sehun says finally. "I'm speechless. And I'm incredibly furious. That was unspeakably horrible of her to do to you. I can..." he pauses, thinking. "I can end her social life for you, if you want. You know I have the power to do that."

Immediately, Haeri shakes her head vehemently. "Please don't. I can't say it's not tempting to say yes. You don't know how much I want to say yes. But I don't want to sink down to her level. And doing so would bring me down there," she finishes firmly. "I think I've been hurt enough for the both of us."\

"You have such a good heart," he murmurs, but Haeri must shake her head for the second time. "I'm hardly a saint. I was horrible to you. I hurt you so much."

"Yes. But you were going through a lot," Sehun concedes. "Anyone else would have acted the same way."

Haeri feels amazing relief and lightness at having spilled the beans at last. Still, there's something that hangs uncomfortably between the two; the elephant in the room. None of the two seem to want to bring it up. Haeri gathers her resolve.

"About us," she begins. "I wish we could get back together, pretend nothing ever happened. But I don't think- I mean-"

"I understand," Sehun mumbles. "It would be difficult. A lot has happened." He tries to smile, and Haeri's heart pinches, just a little bit.

"School's ending tomorrow," she continues after some seconds. "I want to wrap things up, leave school without anything left on my back. It's really time to end this."

 "I understand," he repeats. His face looks blank.

Should I say it? Haeri thinks to herself. No! I can't. It would only hurt him more. But... doesn't he deserve to know, after everything he's been through because of me? She agonizes, racks her brain, and comes to a conclusion. I have to tell him. But truly, I'm a horrible person deep down. And I know that, and he knows that, even though he won't acknowledge it.

"If it makes a difference," Haeri starts, squeezing her eyes shut. Sehun looks up. Haeri opens her eyes, finds the courage somehow to look him directly in the eyes. His gaze pierces her, makes her want to turn away, like she's being torn in two by those eyes. She finds that she's lost her confidence and starts over.

"If it makes a difference," she stammers, then finishes with a last burst of courage.

"I think I love you, too."

There. I did it.

She tears her eyes away, afraid of his reaction, and keeps her eyes on her knees. His response takes her by surprise: he gives her a bear hug. Suddenly, Haeri feels wetness on her neck. Is Sehun... crying?

Shocked, she starts crying too.

"Look at the pair of us," Sehun laughs through his tears. "I feel like I'm drowning in Niagara Falls."

"Me too," she laughs back. The laughter seems to have dispelled the tension completely. Haeri feels drained but clean, as if her tears are washing away all the bad energies that have swamped her these past few days. They stay like that for a while, hugging and crying and not speaking. After a couple minutes, Haeri gently detaches herself regretfully from the embrace. She turns to face Sehun. This time, he's the first to speak.

"Is this goodbye?"

She looks at him carefully, memorizing all the details she never wants to forget.

He is struck by the stars swimming brightly in her eyes.

"This is goodbye," she affirms. She turns to leave and remembers, just in time, to add one vital last thing.

"But it's not farewell."

He nods in understanding, as, without another word, she disappears out the door. It is only sometime much later that night when the light in his room finally clicks off.