What I hate about Mondays isn’t the same reason why everyone else doesn’t like them. In addition to my brother and my cousin, 5 other men come over to my house for a meeting and to eat dinner. 4 of them make it as equally obvious as Woohyun that they are not the biggest fan of me. Sungjong…is ok. But that's a reach; to say the least, he is the most tolerable out of 7.

I was more than frustrated at the audacity of Sehun’s forwardness when I got home, evident in the way that I slammed the front door to the house. I knew the meeting was over because the table was filled with different junk food, aroma only making me sick.

This was the most riled up I had seen them after a meeting, I concluded that it went well. Myungsoo was in the kitchen as always, cooking with Sungyeol. Howan, Woohyun and Dongwoo were sitting on the couch with their feet on the table, playing some video game and yelling at the screen. If you looked at it, it was a boys’ night in simplest terms.

Yet the chattered had died when the sound of a slammed door rang through their sensitive ears. I didn’t really intend to do it and I wished I didn’t when Sunggyu started to scold me.

The pack leader was a prideful one. Pride to him was the fact that every pack member shared the same deep black fur, proving how much of a family they were. And yet, the additional family had broken his pride when he discovered me.

“In Hye, come here.” Though I wasn’t part of his pack, something in him still held command over me. Something in me was submissive around him, most likely because I wanted to be accepted by him. I want to be accepted by anyone, really.

Sunggyu was sitting at the dining room table with Sungjong. Usually they wouldn’t talk to me, rather, they would ignore my existence completely if I came into the house. Hesitantly I walked over to the table.

“Sit.” Sunggyu commanded, like I was some kind of dog, pointing to the chair across from his and Sungjong’s. I put my book bag and my camera bag gently on the table and pulled out the wooden chair.

Sunggyu looked over to Sungjong, the youngest in their pack. “Why do you keep letting them bully you, In Hye?”

I probably blinked a lot more than I needed to, but that came out of nowhere. I knew Sungjong was a caring one and all, but the leader had never addressed my past bullying experiences, especially not formally. I shifted my on my chair. None of them except Sungjong knew the extent of the bullying, since he was the closest one to my grade, but he didn’t speak of it. Ever.

“Answer, In Hye.” Sunggyu seethed. Clearly he wasn’t in a good mood. Problems concerning me weren’t problems that concerned him. It almost seemed like he forced himself to talk to me about this. He was rather unwilling.

I wasn’t very grateful that Sungjong practically tattled on me, directing the attention to him rather than Sunggyu. “Sungjong, you haven’t exactly cared about this in the past. Why is it being brought up now?”

Anger wasn’t the definition of Sungjong. Replace the R, he was supposed to be the angel of the group. That angel with balled fists and a pink tinted face was ready to lash out.“Because you stopped defending yourself!”

The whole time I was sitting there I felt eyes on the back of my head. I had a wild guess they belonged to my brother. He didn't know either, he knew nothing. Our ages aren't close enough for us to ever be on the same campus. It's not like he would have done anything about it either, but it might have been different if kids knew my big brother was there. Maybe...I wish...

“I had a bad day today and I’m not in the mood to be lectured by you two. Worry about your pack, Sunggyu, not me.” Confidence was easy around those who didn’t bear the names Woohyun or Sehun. The latter I was somewhat better with, probably because I wasn’t terrified of him.

I grabbed the straps of my two bags and stalked up the stairs, forgetting about my pictures of the day and dropping down on my mattress face first. Long days just needed to end with sleep, though sleep meant waking up to the next day. A gut instinct told me that tomorrow wasn’t going to be a good day either.

I shouldn’t have even had an instinct at all. I hated that I was right. Interpersonal Communications was more like Nightmare from Hell class. It was a student’s worst nightmare. One of those classes where the professor goes around directly picking on a specific student and asks him/her questions. It probably doesn’t happen in the city, where the classrooms are too big for the professors to learn the students’ names. But when you live in a small town like we do or attend a small college, it is highly unlikely for the professor to forget your name.

Hence, today’s class, otherwise known as our progress reports. Professor Lee explained it as a learning process, to show ourselves how much more we know about our partner after just two weeks. You could already guess how nervous I was. Other than the all too typical incessant bullying from my partner, the only other kind of decent conversation we had was planning for our other project the day before. Not exactly a way of learning about each other. Not in the slightest.

I noticed about halfway through the class that Professor Lee never repeated questions. He had a different set for each group, my guess was it was the ultimate test for us not being able to prepare in advanced.

My teeth grazed the inside of my cheek, ready for a bite. I was not ready to be slandered by Oh Sehun in front of the professor and my nerves got the better of my ability to talk coherently.

We were one of the last groups, but I wasn’t exactly looking forward to whatever clever malicious words Oh Sehun prepared for me. Professor Lee looked down at his list and called our two names. “Ok, Oh Sehun and Nam In Hye. We’ll start with In Hye.”

Perfect…I thought sarcastically. I would be there first one to go. I forced myself to look over at said partner, only to be greeted by a smug face.

“Oh Sehun.”

“Yes?” Feigning innocence, I see. He blankly stared at the professor.

“Can you start by telling me about In Hye’s personal life? Who she lives with for example. Family, I mean.”

Damn question, damn professor, damn Oh Sehun. It’s like I’m being set up for hate. He’s gonna bring it up, I know he is.

Sehun, along with some of his friends in our classroom, snickered at the perfect opportunity. “She lives with her drug addict of a brother.” I knew it. I called it.

Professor Lee furrowed his eyebrows, knowing that wasn’t true. Hesitantly he looked over at me, stupidly handing himself over to Sehun’s taunting. “And of her parents?”

Oh God…I looked over at Sehun again, and if he actually looked at me he would see the desperate pleading in my eyes to shut up. He didn’t. Instead, he just snorted, as if this question was some kind of joke. “For all I know they abandoned her after realizing she was a mistake.”

The whole classroom erupted, well, I guess that is a poor term, but whispers flew around, shocked gasps filled the tense air. Even for him, that was the lowest thing he had ever uttered about me.

Disappointed, Professor Lee shook his head. “In Hye, where are your parents?”

My hands were balled into fists, but I resisted every part of my shaking body so that my voice would not quaver. I turned my head to Oh Sehun and stared him straight in the eye. “They’re dead.”

Not many people knew that about my parents, save a few that were their friends. They died when I was in elementary school, but Woohyun was old enough to take care of me, so he did.

Oh Sehun faltered, mouth slightly ajar. At least he regretted what he said. As if his answers weren’t enough, Professor Lee skipped the rest of his planned questions and moved on to me.

“Let’s try this again. Is there anything Oh Sehun is interested in?” 

I scoffed, and that sent eyes flying directly toward my way. My turn, you limp noodle. “The only thing Oh Sehun is interested in is his girlfriend's face off.” I laughed at myself again. “Too bad it’s the only thing he’s good at.”

That got some snickers throughout the classroom, I’m pretty sure even from some of his friends. Said victim stood up and slammed his hands down on his desk. I assumed harsh profanities would have left his mouth had our professor let him speak.