004
CHAPTER FOUR

---

 

I am barely able to make it to English lit at 9:00AM, arriving about five minutes before the class starts.

Apparently I had fallen asleep on my bed after getting dressed. I don’t even know how stuff like this happens, but it does. The blowdryer was even on when I woke up at about 8:30 and I almost wanted to kick myself for wasting the electricity Mr. and Mrs. Wu were paying for. But I had no time to punish myself as I was gonna be late for my first class. So, I tied my hair up in a bun and ran out the door as fast as possible and instead of walking, I decided to call a cab.

 

When I got to school it was 8:45 and I was barely able to drag myself through the front gates.

But here I am anyway, hanging onto the doorjamb for dear life.

I look around and let out a sigh of relief, glad that the professor hasn’t arrived yet.

“Hell yes,” I whisper to myself as I bite my lip. Then I search for an empty seat.

That is interrupted, however, for a short moment when I find everyone’s eyes on me.

“What?” I mouth as I look around. A boy with bleached hair named Oh Sehun whom I know from College Algebra snickers and points behind me. I turn my head…

“Good Morning to you, too, Miss…?”

My eyes widen as I see someone who seems to be professor standing about a foot from where I was. My mouth locks into a forced smile. “Jung. Jung Haneul, Seongsaeng-nim.” I give her a formal bow to show respect. Surprisingly, she seems more amused than angered.

“Alright, take your seat,” she smiles as she walks in. I hurry to the back quickly, seating myself on the empty chair next to the one at the very corner of the classroom. Sehun, seated to the right of the guy in front of me, turns to me and laughs. I stick my tongue out before doing the same.

 

Our teacher does the usual first day things a teacher would do. She introduces herself and tells us her life story. And I wasn’t exactly pulled in by the way Mrs. Kwon told hers. It wasn’t boring, nor was it interesting. She wasn’t crazy. Not that she told us she’s a serial killer or anything. I mean, what kind of stupid person would do that? It’s just that I’m staring at her with the most expressionless face ever and she’s glowing and passionate and everything, but I was really getting sleepy. I didn’t know why. Her voice has this high pitch and bright tone, you can almost feel neon rainbows leaking out of her sentences and creeping into your head. It’s kind of scary at first (she’s way too happy!) but It’s easy to get used too. Was I just too disinterested?

 

Or was it the fact that I was up all night in neverland?

 

No. Not him again, try to pay attention.

 

So I do, but later I could feel my eyelids getting heavy. Knowing me, I’d probably drift off to sleep in no time, unless I try to wake myself up. Sadly, my attempts to stay alive and alert are drowned out by Mrs. Kwon’s shrilly voice and her uninteresting life story. I feel like I am about to really go to sleep, when the guy in front of me lets out a laugh loud enough for people within a two chair radius to hear.

 

My eyes pop open.

 

“She’s so freaking cheerful,” he says to his seatmate, who happens to be Oh Sehun, as he mimics her hand movements and her tone of voice in a sort of hushed volume.

 

“I bet she got laid last night,” the same guy says and he and Sehun both burst into laughter. I cover up my mouth to suppress my giggle as I look down and pretend to take down notes.

 

Suddenly, an eraser comes flying in our direction, cutting through the tiny space separating Sehun and his seatmate.

 

“Mr. Byun,” Mrs. Kwon her hip as she places her hands on waist. “Care to share with the class what’s so funny about what I just said?”

 

Actually, I don’t think anybody is listening to her, but she doesn’t have to be informed of that.

 

Mr. Byun shakes his head, which makes our professor roll her eyes.

 

“How about you, Mr. Oh?” she turns to Sehun. “Would you be kind enough to tell me what is so important about what you and Mr. Byun are laughing about that it diverts your attention from me?”

 

He shakes his head as well, and that is responded to with a scoff.

 

“If nothing’s funny, then stop laughing before I send you out,” she snaps. “That chalkboard eraser barely missed you two.”

 

Sehun and Mr. Byun exchange looks as Mrs. Kwon turns around and takes a piece of chalk. The class has gone dead quiet because of her scolding two people on the first day. I click my tongue, almost forgetting this isn’t highschool, but quickly dismiss the thought when the professor calls for our attention once more. Mrs. Kwon is about to write something on the board, when a knock on the door is heard. Some old guy is peeking from the clear glass.

 

“Just a moment,” she says as she walks out.

 

Mrs. Kwon disappears for a moment and has a talk with the ajusshi from outside. However, none of us can hear what they are talking about, so everyone just turns their attention to something else.

 

That is, until the ajusshi leaves and she steps back in.

 

“You two are off the hook this time…” Mrs. Kwon mutters to herself. Sehun and his friend do a brofist below the desks.

 

The professor clears . “Anyway, we have a new student, a late enrollee, joining us for this class today. Looks like you’ve made it just in time,” she smiles. “Everyone, please welcome your new coursemate, Lee Minhyuk.”

 

I don’t look at him when he walks in, instead choosing to stare at my desk as I think about how lucky he is to have missed the first part of Mrs. Kwon’s introduction. But then the ladies all around me gasp and let out dreamy sighs, while the men begin to let out sighs of exasperation. This compels me to look up.

 

Sure enough, a boy about as tall as Luhan walked into the room. He hand his jet black hair down, his bangs almost covering his face– though despite that, oh man I could tell, he was a cute one. And he was dressed in skinny black slacks and a knitted dark blue pullover with a polo a lighter shade of blue peaking out from underneath it. Good fashion sense too.

 

“Nice to meet you, everyone,” he gives us all a belly button bow, then turns to Mrs. Kwon before doing the same. “I’m Lee Minhyuk. Please treat me well.” He flashes us a smile (not nearly, but almost as bright as Park Chanyeol’s), his eyes disappearing with the unveiling of his perfect teeth. I can hear all the girls squealing and the boys sighing. Mrs. Kwon’s anger towards Sehun and his friend is forgotten.

 

“Wonderful. You can go sit beside Ms. Jung over there,” she points to the seat beside me, the only one left vacant, and he heads toward my direction. I don’t pay attention to him, for I am more surprised at the fact that Mrs. Kwon remembered my name. Somewhere in the middle of it all, during introduction time with your seatmate, we end up talking to each other.

 

“Oh, so you’re from the States?” he says cheerfully. I can feel the stares of the other girls burning through the back of my head. I answer his question with a small nod.

 

“Really? I came from Beijing,” he introduces, without me asking. My expression turns dark at the mention of that place, the place I have been avoiding for more than two years now. Beijing– my cage, my prison, my father’s sad excuse for a home, the place I had willingly run away from when I was sixteen. But I always try not to let it show.

 

“I’m a hundred percent Korean, though,” he laughs, as if he didn’t notice the change in my demeanor. “How about you?”

 

“We’re the same,” I say as I look up and force a smile at him. Minhyuk seems to take it as a friendly smile, which I am glad for, and he smiles back.

 

And for the remainder of the period, everyone– or in our case, Minhyuk– continues with the introductory activity. I don’t see how he doesn’t see that I am not interested in him at all. He keeps throwing random facts about himself that I’ll probably forget in two minutes, and asking me questions. Of course, to keep up with the spirit of the activity and to not come across as a complete , I smile back at him (most times forced) and talk only to answer his queries.

 

One of his questions throws me off.

 

“Haneul-sshi,” he turns to me and I don’t even bother to look his way, pretending I’m checking my non-existent manicure. I wait for him to blurt out the question. When he doesn’t, however, I force myself to turn to him, pretend to space out, and reply,

 

“Huh?” I look up suddenly and he’s still smiling. “Oh crap, sorry. Yes?”

 

I throw his smile right back at him.

 

“Would you mind showing me around the campus?” he says. “I know you’re new too, but maybe we can… you know…”

 

I don’t know what to say, so I keep silent, trying to seem unfazed.

 

“If you can’t do it today we can do it tomorrow,” he blurts out as if he just read my mind. This guy is pretty insistent.

 

And there is nothing I can do but say yes.

 

As if on cue, the bell rings and his words of thanks are drowned in the chaos. I do a little cheerdance in my head to celebrate, congratulating myself for surviving two and a half hours of that…whatever you call it. And I am quite surprised that with what little activities we did, we managed to take up the entire period. Maybe I did fall asleep somewhere in those two and a half hours. I smile to myself and swing my bag over my right shoulder, but when I turn to say goodbye to Minhyuk, he is already hurrying out the door and he even finds time to wave to me. I try to catch up to him, to at least ask for the time of his tour tomorrow (I forgot that I’m taken every lunch time) but he disappears all to easily in the mass of students hurrying to get to their next classes. I squeeze in through the sides and find Minhyuk pocketing an uncapped red sharpie, and running away from the freedom board. He was probably trying to use the crowd to his advantage. He thought nobody would notice.

 

There is a glisten in my eye, because I saw what color that sharpie was and I just might be able to find out what he wrote. A grin finds its way up to my lips. So, I’m a gossip? But so is the rest of the world.

 

The big question, though, is why did he have to write it now?

 

And because I don’t really mind getting killed by curiosity, I jog over to the board as fast as possible. I scan for any new writings, or fresh paper, but I see none. And I find it strange, because I swear I just saw Lee Minhyuk uncap a marker and write on one of the-

 

Hold up.

 

What is this?

---

Tell me
Is the rose , or is that only her dress

---

 

It’s my message.

And below it, in rushed handwriting written using a bright red sharpie marker, it says:

 

---

It does not matter
For she is beautiful all the same

---

My eyes widen and I suddenly find myself in a state of confusion. This could not have been Minhyuk. The handwriting is way different than the first two messages. (That could just be because it’s rushed, but I do not want to believe it.) Though it did seem like it was just written there, the pungent smell of the marker was still strong.

 

What the hell.

 

I rip the paper off the board and shove it in my pocket, then I walk away quickly before someone can see me.

 

Okay, so let’s say that those are different people. That would mean two people saw me writing that on that day, or the other person told Minhyuk that he saw me there. That’s kind of impossible. I don’t think he knows any more people than I do (and I know like, four or something).  But then if the messages were all from one person, how can that be Minhyuk? Didn’t he just get here, like today? And even if he did get here before, didn’t he just say that he didn’t know his way around campus?

 

Ah. I don’t know.

 

I try to push the thoughts of him and the mystery poet (who I’ll probably never get to meet, if I haven’t already, because our only means of communication is gone) to the very back of my mind and dig out my phone from my bag, feeling like listening to a bit of music. However, when I unlock my phone, Chanyeol’s newly-saved contact pops up on my screen– which reminds me that that was the last thing I used this phone for, and also that I have a meeting with him today… and everyday for the rest of the sem.

 

I don’t even know where to meet him. That’s really really… nice.

 

I sigh as I look around, watching most of the students who are spending their lunch in class fade into their respective classrooms. Relieved that there are much less people in the hallways than normal, I make my way to the cafeteria. Realizing that Chanyeol might have thought I skipped out on him today, I force my legs to run at top speed before slowing down to a jog when I reach the double doors leading to my destination.

 

I look around for any sign of a tree with huge ears– I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t be difficult to find him with the kind of height that he has– and surprisingly I don’t see any hint of Park Chanyeol in this cafeteria. I sigh, walking around the space aimlessly with my head stretched out like a retarded giraffe.

 

Where the heck is he?

 

“Oh you’re here?”

 

And behind me, oh lo and behold, is none other than,

 

“Oh Sehun?” I look at him with widened eyes and a questioning look. I wanted to ask him what he was doing here, but that would be an absurd question since we did go to the same college so I choice not to voice it out. I think the more appropriate question, however, would’ve been why is he talking to me? And it’s not because I don’t want him to talk to me, but I don’t think he’s the type of guy who just goes

up to people he just met and talks to them. “How can I-“

 

He probably isn’t even paying attention to me, because he turns to his left and bellows, “Hyung!”, then he waves his hands in the air. “I found her!”

 

Sure enough, Park Chanyeol appears, the Byun boy tagging along behind him like a lost puppy.

 

“There. You. Are.” He breathes out every word with emphasis as he takes steps closer towards me.  Then he grabs my hand. “See you later, Hun, Baek.”

 

He waves at his friends and pulls me out of the cafeteria.

 

“I hope you like chicken,” he says.

 

Somehow it doesn’t feel like much of a study date anymore.

 

“Where are we going?” I spit out as I try to free my hand from his tight grip.

 

“The library, of course.”

 

“What?”

 

* * *

 

“Excuse me,” I try my hardest to sound polite as I turn to Park Chanyeol who is dragging me through the aisles of the university library’s fourth floor, trying to find the place where he left his belongings. He looks around the room when we reach a portion of the lib that has couches and tables. Finally, after a bit of searching, he let’s out a small “ah!” and proceeds to drag me further into the couch seat near the windows that is backed up against a divider. The only time he lets me go is when he reaches out to grab his dark blue sports bag.

 

He stuffs his hand inside the ped bag, and reaches for a small paper bag. He then moves to the very corner of the room, where he is hidden from view, and empties the contents of the paper bag into onto the chair.

 

“Do you like Banana milk or Chocolate milk?” he inquires as he pushes his sports bag to my right to conceal the food.

 

“We’re not allowed to-“

 

“It didn’t happen if no one saw it,” he winks. “Banana or chocolate?”

 

It takes a while to convince myself to accept the tall giant’s generous offer. This, I thought as I stared at the food beside me, is actually my pay.

 

Ah. But when the hell did I even consider this as a real job?

 

I run a hand through my ponytail and fix my pretend specs as I look at Chanyeol, who was wiggling his eyebrows at me in order for me to give in. I I breathe out some air through my mouth.

 

 “Fine. Banana.”

 

He slides the milk over to me along with a box of takeout chicken from a fastfood restaurant near the school. He got one of those boxes with five pieces each. My eyes widen.

 

“You went out to get this?” I stare at the chicken, then at him, wondering if he took me for a monster.

 

“Sort of-ish?” Okay. What? “Anyway, if you can’t finish it, give it to me.”

 

“Okay.”

 

* * *

 

Of course I never got to finish that much chicken. I don’t know if this man thinks of me as a pig or something, but I only managed to eat two pieces. This is probably because I got so used to eating this food in the states,that I got tired of it. Anyway, Chanyeol didn’t get mad at me. In fact, it seemed like it was more of a win situation for him when I told him I couldn’t eat any more than two of these.  I marvel at how he can finish eight of that by himself. No wonder he grew to be like a tree.

 

“Excuse me, Chanyeol-ssi,” I turn to him, after checking the time on my phone. Good thing he and I had the same breaks, or else this would’ve compromised my schedule. I already lost half an hour looking for him, and another half hour before we both finished lunch. Maybe it would’ve been better if we studied while eating, since I eat like a turtle anyway and he’ll probably finish everything before the end of the lesson.

 

“Yeah?” His gaze burns through my specs and I look away the moment our eyes meet, pretending to be busy looking for my notes.

 

“Don’t you think,” I clear my throat. “Don’t you think we should be starting now?”

 

He looks at me, dumbfounded. “Start what?”

 

I almost want to slap him for what he said.

 

“Ah!” He quickly realizes, not noticing my annoyance. “You mean the helping thing?” He laughs, a genuine laugh, showing me how ignorant he really was when it came to details.

 

“It’s only your first English lit day right? Last sem, all Mrs. Kwon did was introduce herself…It was so boring,” he narrates.

 

“Then what am I here for!” I throw my hands up in the air and he clasps his hand over my mouth.

“We’re in a library, idiot,” he whispers, keeping his hand on my mouth. “You got free lunch anyway…”

 

I look at him with questioning eyes as I pry his hand off of my mouth.

 

That’s no fun.

 

And something lights up inside of me.

 

Ah.

 

But wait.

 

“I have a great idea,” I chuckle evilly as I turn to face him, then I take a book from out of my bag. It was a copy of A Mermaid’s Tears by Park Yoonhee. My mother gave it to me, maybe that’s why I enjoyed reading it so much. That and it was so relatable, except for the forbidden love part. Though that would probably have happened to me if I ever did fall in love before.

 

Chanyeol gives me a confused look as I slide it over to his side of the table. He fixes his brown orbs on it, eyeing it as if it were some kind of foreign object, and then he looks at me.

 

“What am I supposed to do with this?” Chanyeol picks it up and carelessly flips through the book, but I stop him immediately by  grabbing his hands.

 

“Yah! Be careful of that! You might damage the spine,” I cry out as I let his hands go. He gently lays the book on the table, then he does that “hands up” thing, not losing his weirded-out look.

 

“There aren’t even any pictures in it,” he mutters as if it was a mandatory law for all books to have illustrations.

 

“You make the pictures, idiot,” I roll my eyes Has he never heard of imagination?  “In your head. I want you to read this, and give me proof that you’ve finished it.”

 

He pouts. “What’s in that for me?”

 

“Yah, I’m your tutor. And that’s homework!” I clap my hands soundlessly, keeping in mind that we’re in a library, and wink at him jokingly. “I’ll do whatever you want if you finish it.”

 

Something inside him lights up this time.

 

“Whatever I want?”

 

I nod.

 

“Alright,” he smiles cheekily. “I’ll, uh, try.”

 

I only laugh at his response.

 

* * *

 

I meet up with Eunna later in the day, after both our classes end at 6:00PM, just because I don’t wanna walk when I know the sun is setting. She tells me all about her day, and all the hopeless professors she’s met. I tell her about Lee Minhyuk, and how much of a mystery he is already when we’ve only met. I also tell her about the post it note that I tore off the freedom board.

 

“Wow,” she holds the note in front of her. “This is so creepy. It’s definitely not the guy who wrote the first two lines,” Eunna declares, the tone in her voice telling me she’s sure.

 

“But why would Minhyuk do that? Gosh it’s so distracting, it delayed my meeting with Chanyeol. I can’t-”

 

“Wait!” Eunna stops in her tracks and I do the same a few seconds after she does.  “You have to tell me what happened last night!” She squeals excitedly at the thought of me dating– and I am doing nothing of that sort– as she leans on a nearby locker.

 

“Nothing happened.” I say flatly. “You and Kris left me, so the dude started bothering me. So I decided to entertain him because you know, maybe he’ll leave or something. Anyway he tried to buy me a drink, but I do not drink. And he said books ! Gosh that little- Eunna?”

 

I finally notice my friend is in a daze, and she is looking behind me. I turn around so I can see what is stealing her attention from me, and I see him.

 

Lu Han

 …locking eyes with her, both mirroring the same sadness from what looked like a connected but now broken past. It was a look I had learned to hide behind my glasses in the years that I’ve been trying to find ways to survive. It was a pained look. And it continues on.

 

However, as soon as he confirms that the person Eunna was with was me, Lu Han’s sad look dissipates into the atmosphere and the corners of his mouth turn up.

 

“Hey, Haneul,” he gives me a small wave, and I am knocked out of my thoughts.

 

“H- hey,” I smile back and he walks away, smile intact. I turn to Eunna. “Eun?” I say.

 

“What?” the girl beside me finally recovers from what seemed to be a sort of shock due to Lu Han’s presence. And I can only sigh.

 

“What’s going on between you and Lu Han?”

 

She swallows hard. “Well…”

 

We are both snapped out of our trances when the nose of a paper airplane made of oslo hits me straight in the middle of my forehead. Eunna, seeing as I was surprised by everything that had happened today, bends down to pick it up for me. She laughs a little when she sees that something is written on the inside of the plane.

 

 

You’re just as much of a mystery as I am

Jung Haneul

I hope to see more of you

I know there is more

 

-Your Mystery Poet

 

I grab the paper airplane from Eunna and stuff it in my bag.

 

“Is this supposed to be romantic?” she says. “What if that creeper Minhyuk sent this? I just saw him walk by.”

 

And I sigh. “Whatever, gosh. It’s too much to think about right now.” I turn to her and grab her arm. “And hey, you still have to tell me about Lu Han.”

 

She was probably hoping I’d forget, because she sighs.

“Alright. Later, when we get to the room.”

 

I nod and we walk away.

 

---

a/n: hola amigos. meet minhyuk. okno. lol. anyway, sort of meh chapter but dw the next ones are coming soon cx. thanks to you all! mwa mwa.  ( pstd. 150618. )