It’s after the biweekly session of sports they have to do (this time was spent in a casual basketball game which was really more catch up until the point Seungwan decided to make everyone really go for it) and Seulgi is still warm and kind of sweaty and too tired to properly be engaged as part of a conducive learning environment.

On the other hand, the running around has just keyed Seungwan up too much. A little more running around might be better for her, since she’s bouncing and humming in her seat as she scribbles things down, buzzing with that displaced energy.

“For the last time, no,” Seulgi says. “And anyway, it just reminds you of—”

“Fast food, I know, I know. You told me before, Sseul.” Seungwan flicks the remnants of eraser dusk from her desk and inspects her paper. Maybe she’s tallying up all her futile attempts to make ‘Wendy’ a thing. She turns around in her chair and says, “Can’t it remind you of anything else? Peter Pan maybe?”

Seulgi never liked children’s stories much.  “No. Just the fast food.”

“That’s Wendy’s,” Seungwan corrects with a heavy hiss on the S.

“I can’t control what my brain thinks.”

“Soojung calls me Wendy.”

“I wonder how long that will last.”

Seungwan has a short attention span anyway. A few more of these dead end conversations, futilely spend trying to get Seulgi to say something, and she’ll lose interest. Seulgi hopes so, anyway.

“What are we talking about?” Soojung says, walking into the room.

She sits down, freeing her hair from a pony tail. Damp with sweat, it stays in that shape, even with the scrunch gone, and she runs her fingers through it trying to get it to flow more evenly. The school dress code isn’t too particular about how the girls wear their hair. Seulgi assumes it’s because the school isn’t particularly great. She still hears horror stories about the harsh regulation in those fancy private academies where all the students get set and primed for a fast track to SKY universities.

“What we like to be called,” Seungwan says.

“Like nicknames?” Soojung squints as she tries to understand. 

“My mom calls be Wan-ah,” Seungwan says. “That’s about it, though. Want to contribute?”

What Seungwan means is ‘want to give me another nickname’ but what Seulgi chooses to interpret it as (also because she has no interest in adding to Seungwan’s nickname collection) is ‘what about you?’

“My mom just says ‘hey, you’,” Seulgi says.

“Soojung-ah, what about you?”

“Nicknames?” Soojung repeats and then cringes a little. “Not really. I’m not the type.”

“You want one?” Seungwan makes a show of her chin in contemplation. “Soojungie?”

“Really?” Seulgi says. “All that thinking and the best you come up with is Soojungie?”

“You do better then.”

“…Ddungie?”

It’s so bad even Seungwan’s voice is forced to drop to monotone. “Where did you even get that from?”

Soojung laughs.

“It’s fine,” she says. “I like my name, so just Soojung is fine.”

“That’s good too,” Seungwan says. “Hmm. My name’s okay, I guess. But your name is pretty cool. Spell it backwards or forwards it’s still Jung Soojung.”

“You say it like it’s a tag line or a motto for some product on TV,” Seulgi says, ignoring the fact she pointed out the same thing when Soojung first directly introduced herself those days ago.

Seungwan chuckles, fingers giving an L-shaped salute that cups her chin. She winks like she really is in a TV ad. “Jung Soojung, say it backwards or forwards, it’s still Jung! Soo! Jung!”

She punctuates every syllable with a playful jab of Soojung’s arm. Soojung shoves her back with a straight face as cold as ice and for a moment, both Seulgi and Seungwan freeze in terror of the possibility of having hurt Soojung’s feelings.

Then, of course, Soojung sputters out the start of awkward laughing and everyone else follows suit. The only thing that’s strange is how not strange Seulgi thinks everything is. Soojung’s expression is like a thin film of ice over a lake, only when you crack past it you find out that the water wasn’t even that cold to start with. It’s just some strange weather anomaly that could only take place there—only with this one person who defies basic laws of nature, but in a good way.

“Is that going to be a thing?” Soojung says.

“Jung!” Seulgi pokes Soojung in the arm this time and Seulgi wonders if she’d been once bitten twice shy. “Soo!” Another prod. “Jung!”

The last one goes between the ribs and Soojung squeals at a frequency that might break glass. The rest of the class turns to look at the commotion and Soojung buries her face in her hands, walking in circles that escape to nowhere as Seungwan waves the onlookers away with a the apologetic embarrassment of a kid who meant to make their parents breakfast but burnt the toast and triggered a smoke alarm that woke them up instead. 

Seulgi’s never been the touchy-feely-est of people but she tries to reassure Soojung anyway, a hand coming to rest on her forearm. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Seungwan says. “I didn’t know you were that ticklish.”

Soojung lowers her hands enough to for her eyes to peek through her fingers and mumbles, “S’okay.”

The vibrations of her voice tremble down her arm to Seulgi’s fingertips. She resists the urge to shiver and gently nudges Soojung’s hands away from her face, tugging by her wrist. Soojung settles down but won’t look anyone in the eye.

“I’m really ticklish too,” Seungwan says. She turns a bit to her side. “Here, go ahead.”

“I’m not sure that’ll help,” Seulgi says the same time Soojung goes, “That’s nice but you really don’t have to.”

So Seungwan goes, “Are you ticklish, Sseul?”

And that feels like a trap.

“Wouldn’t you like to find out?”

That pace is good. Barely a week in to their tentative friendship, Soojung knows how to navigate the currents of Seulgi and Seungwan’s usual push-pull of play bickering. Seulgi’s made sure of it. It breaks the ice and drags Soojung away from that expression she gets on her phrase when she overthinks a situation, fumbling over different version of the same sentence in her head.

Seungwan’s grin goes feral and she lunges, wiggling fingers ready to attack Seulgi’s sides. Before Seulgi can even swing back on her chair or screech its cheap plastic legs back across the floor, she hears a slap of skin against skin and sees Seungwan’s hand drop harmlessly to the floor.

“Ah,” Soojung says, like she’s just noticed her outstretched arm too, the one that just blocked Seungwan’s attempted tickle attack. Maybe she did. Her cheeks tinge a bit pink and she withdraws her hands, stuffing them into her blazer pockets. 

Seungwan looks on, eyebrows shooting up at different angles and heights in a way that would be comical enough for Seulgi to appreciate if Soojung didn’t look so awkward.

“Fast reflexes,” Seulgi says. 

Seungwan’s not offended, not when she looking like that, eyes sparkling, all intrigued, looking over at Soojung like’s she’s a shiny new toy or a plate of barbecue or something else you’d gladly step on another person to get up to.

She loops her fingers around Soojung’s wrists and retrieves her hands from her pockets, waving them from side to side like they’re at a concert. Soojung’s blush deepens and she looks to the side. Seulgi admires the way her profile is backlit against the sun filtering in from the window as is, for once, happy about the class seating positions.

“No, no, no, you don’t have to be embarrassed!” Seungwan says, continuing to move Soojung’s hands up and down and left and right in a way that’s adorable, yes, but clearly not any less embarrassing for Soojung. (Seulgi has no idea what Seungwan’s thought process behind this all is.) “That was really cool. You move fast. One second I was like whoosh and then you were like pew!”

“How come you blocked it or me but you ended up letting Seungwan past for yourself?” Seulgi says. She should be a little more grateful, maybe, since now Seungwan still doesn’t know if she’s ticklish. That would be a battle there was no coming back from.

“But I knew she was going to poke me,” Soojung says, with the blank expression that relays just how obvious she thinks things are. “I just didn’t know it’d be so hard.”

“You’re kind of protective, huh?”

“Huh?” goes Soojung.

Seungwan says, “Well you didn’t care that you were going to get attacked at all but the moment it’s someone else…”

“‘Attack’ is kind of a strong word…” says Soojung. “It’s not like getting hit. It’s just being tickled.”

“So what was with the—” Seungwan mimes a hand getting whacked by another hand and falling to the floor, complete with sound effects “—just now?”

“I don’t know,” Soojung says, and she hides her face in her hands again. “Just reflex?”

“Like how moms do this—” Seungwan sticks out her arm like a seatbelt “—to whoever’s in the passenger seat and the car breaks, right?”

“Ah… That’s kind of…” Soojung hides her face between both her hands and her hair this time, drawing it front of her like a curtain.

“It’s okay, you know,” Seungwan says, patting Soojung on the back because, after this much blushing, it’s become obvious there’s no point in trying to get Soojung’s hands away from her face or trying to get Soojung to look any of them in the eye. “Seulgi was born before you, in February. She can take care of herself. And since I was born in February too, I can try and embarrass her as much as I like too. You know, as equals.”

“Hey,” Seulgi says.

The two of them are ignoring her, though, resuming their positions, maybe an arm’s length apart. Seungwan assumes as ready stance like a boxer, only prepared to poke and tickle instead of punch. Soojung’s hands hover, awkward and uncertain, as she tries to keep them from guarding her ribcage or sides.

Seungwan’s hand flicks out and there’s another soft slap noise. Soojung recoils. Seungwan rubs her arm. The attack has failed.

“You said you didn’t mind!”

“I don’t, I don’t,” Soojung insists. “I’m not doing anything! My hand just keeps moving.”

It’s fascinating to see. Those two have too much energy after gym and Seulgi is too amused to stop them. Seungwan keeps jerking forward, sometimes attacking, something feinting, and Soojung consistently taps her hand out of the way like everything’s running in slow motion.

“Stop countering!”

“Sorry, sorry! It’s scary, though!”

“How’s it scary?”

“It’s because you didn’t say you were going to do it!” Soojung says. “You have to say before! If I know it’s coming I can let you past.”

“So, what I need permission?”

Of course you need permission, Seulgi wants to say, but she also doesn't want to interrupt the direction whatever bizzare conversation the two are having on their alien plane of existance. It's too fun to watch.

“Otherwise it’s scary,” Soojung whines. This is the first time Seulgi’s every heard her use that tone of voice.

“I didn’t tell you the first time! I just went Jung!” Slow jab. “Soo!” Jab. “Jung!” Jab.

“Ah, but that’s when you’re doing it slowly. When it’s slowly I can tell what’s happening. If it’s fast then it’s scary.”

“I’m scary?”

“No! It’s just— The situation is scary. When you’re scared you try and dodge on instinct, right?” 

“I think it’s just you,” Seulgi says, joining in at last. That’s the last traitorous straw that breaks the camel’s back because Soojung huffs and crosses her arms in front of her, guarding all the tickling points on her sides.

Seungwan makes half-annoyed, half-relieved pout and settles down in her chair. Seulgi isn’t sure if it’s directed at her or Soojung.

“Jung Soojung,” Seungwan calls as she looks at Seulgi (therefore clarifying exactly nothing).

“Yeah?” Soojung says.

“Jung Soojung.”

“Yes?”

“Jung Soojung.”

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” Seungwan says. She rests her head down on her desk. Has she finally crashed from her energy high? Please let it be the case. Seulgi doesn’t want to have to sit through the next two hours of lessons hearing Seungwan’s foot tap tap tap against the floor one desk in front of her. It’s distracting. She could take one hour, maybe, but the second one pushing things way past excessive.

“Nothing?” Seulgi repeats.

“Nah,” Seungwan says, looking at Soojung this time. “I just like saying your name.”

“You’re weird,” Soojung says, smiling.

“You’re weird too,” Seungwan says, smiling back.

Seulgi butts in. “I’m not weird."

“Nah,” Seungwan says. “You’re way too cool. Cooler than a cucumber.”

“I don’t like cucumbers,” Soojung says. “They smell weird.”

“So not a cucumber, then,”  Seungwan saying, a reassurance. “Cool like…a milkshake? Bubble tea? Hey, Soojung, what kind of drinks do you like?”

“How can you change the topic so quickly?” Seulgi wonders aloud and is, of course, ignored because everyone can tell she’s just complaining to herself.

Well, not that ignored, because Seungwan still gets back on track to their old conversation topic before anyone else has a chance to interject. “Say it backwards, it’s Jung Soojung. Say it forwards, it’s still Jung Soojung.”

“So you really are making it a thing?” Soojung says with a nervous smile. She tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

Seungwan considers it. “I think it’s cute.”

“It’s cute,” Seulgi agrees and the horrified expression on Soojung’s face is worth every second of siding with Seungwan, who’s chest puffs up like a robin’s. It deflates, soon after, when Seulgi continues, “But I think it’s a bit long winded for a nickname.”

“I can say it fast.” Seungwan inhales.

“Please don’t.”

Seungwan exhales. She says, “We should, though.”

“We should what?”

“Have nicknames for each other. ‘Cause we’re friends.”

Soojung’s eyes light up at the phrase. Seulgi files ‘because we’re friends’ away in the back of her head under a section of ‘things to say to cheer up Soojung’.

“Let me think,” Seungwan says. “I can be—”

“Wendy is basically a nickname as far as anyone is concerned,” Seulgi says.

“Fine then. Seulgi is a spoil sport who won’t use nicknames with anyone, but you call me Wendy and I’ll call you Soojungie. Hey, I know. I call her ‘Sseul’. Wanna try that and join the nickname brigade?”

Seulgi sends her a look, as best she can, that should read as ‘please no, don’t do it.’

“I think Seulgi would like it if I just called her Seulgi.”

“If that’s what you want to do.”

The bell rings. With a put out expression, Seungwan shuffles her chair into iota proper position behind her desk, facing the blackboard instead of the back wall.

Soojung leans over in the moments as the class settles down, the teacher unpacking stacks of handouts from his briefcase. Seulgi leans in to meet her halfway too.

Soojung whispers to her, breath tickling the stray bits of hair Seulgi hasn’t brushed away neatly enough, “I wouldn't be able to call you Sseul anyway. I get confused enough as it is.”

“It doesn't sound that much like Seungwan,” Seulgi whispers back, chair starting to lean away, face primed at the board like she’s paying attention instead of talking to Soojung.

“No.” Soojung shakes her head. Seulgi can only tell because of the way she can see Soojung’s hair wave along with it out of the corner of her eye. “That's not it. I had a friend back in the States with a nickname similar to yours.”

“Oh,” Seulgi says. She can’t think of much else. It seems like enough for Soojung because she turns forward again, still walking, and her head isn’t bowed down to examine the stay pebbles from the asphalt on the road. 

She hopes she hasn’t made Soojung homesick or anything. She doesn’t know if you’d even call it homesickness. Soojung’s as Korean as she is American, allegedly. But everyone gets moments of nostalgia and wishing for something else. 

Seulgi, of all people, can understand that.

‘앞으로해도정수정 거꾸로해도정수정’ doesn’t translate as concisely as it’s said in Korean. Oh well. We all know what they mean...

This was kind of a weird chapter. Over 2500 words of a failed tickle fight. I hope it was enjoyable, at least. This story is lighthearted and cute! I swear! Um, well mostly so… Comments always appriciated. You can even complain about how slowly things are going. I won't mind. It's all interaction. Interact!