The disciplinary commitee reached a decision. My punishment? It's not so bad.

          It's just the last thing I need right now: more school work. I have to write a ten-page paper about censorship of books in schools and libraries-since I appread so interested in the topic-while I am sitting in the library. With detention. And if my paper is satisfactory, I can walk at graduation and get my diploma.

I'm on my way to the library when I hear familiar shrieks-and from the location and from pirple posters on the walls, I know it is the Japanese club party. And Jieun. So I poke my head in the door.

          Seulgi is writing something on the whiteboard, and Jieun is trying to jump up and rab the marker, but Seulgi is writing high on the board.

          "She's making my drawing ographic," Jieun complains to the group.

          Several look up from reading manga and sketching on notebook paper. A girl dressed like a Pokemon giggles. She is drawing on the other whiteboard-and her art-work is ographic. A spiky-haired redheaded boy is nestled between the legs of a blond, androgynous-looking character--their big eyes at half-mast.

          It's enough to make me blush.

          "Jongin," Jieun pleads.

          And I turn to inspect her drawing. Two boys caught in a hug but with thought bubbles. It isn't nearly as dirty as Pokemon's.

          Seulgi adds to the second thought bubble, writing in what must be Japanese because I can't decipher the dashes and curves.

          "Tell her to stop," Jieun says.

          "Seulgi?" I ask, sitting on a desk. "You owe me a favor."

          Seulgi stops writing to look at me, her eyebrows staight lines. "A favor?"

          "A week-of-detention, ten-page-paper favor. And if I don't get to walk, you're gonna owe me a whole lot more."

          She pouts. "I do, don't I?"

          I smile.

          And she relinquishes the marker to Jieun.

          Jieun pulls a chair over to the whiteboard, stands on it, and starts erasing.

          Seulgi comes over and sits on the desk next to mine. "But you're the only one selling the magazines.. It's like the rest have been sent throught the shredder."

          "Nope, Mr. Kim decided that we're going to sell them as is-with your graphic short!"

          "Woo-hoo!" Seulgi leaps off her desk and opens her arms as if she's going to hug me. But then she stops, as if she thinks twice.

          I wipe the unintentional girls-are-icky look form my face and open my arms.

          "Thank you," Seulgi says in my ear as we hug.

          We step into the hallway.

          "My mom said something when she saw The Love Dare," I begin, because I need to know if she was right. "She said she thought the characters looked like me and Kyungsoo. Was that on purpose?"

          Seulgi looks down at her shoes. I tilt my head and try to catch her eyes, but she doesn't look up.

          Instead she nudges my sneaker with her toe and barely above a whisper, says, "You were my inspiration."

          "Inspiration?"

          Seulgi's eyes meet my own. "You're a good person, Jongin. You don't care if someone's hot and popular or doesn't even have a best friend; you see them for who they are."  Her fingers find my hand and squeeze it. "That's something. Inspiring."

          "I don't feel it's my place to judge." I shrug. "Since I'm, well...."

          She nods as if she understands the rest of my sentence. "I hope the two characters didn't look too much like you--I left off a couple things on purpose."

          "Uh, thanks," I say, knowing those details she left off won't change how people choose to see it.

I walk to the library and find a table, my mind still on our exchange. I guess I asked for it, literally. I'd asked Seulgi for a graphic short story and she drew me one, using my best friend and me for inspiration. I had promised her I'd get it in, but that was before I kenw that it was about. Only after Sehun and Dasom read it, they rejected it. The rest of it was all me. Her story inspired me. It was like I was the one taking the dare, not my likeness in a comic book frame--I took the pen from her hand and wrote my own fate.

          Now it comes down to Kyungsoo. He's got a copy of the magazine to decipher and decode. Add in a few clues from the art-geek girls, and well, he'll figure me out. The ball will be in his court. He'll choose to be my friend, or not.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

In art on the last day of classes, the room looks bare. Drawings and paintings have been taken down from the walls. The still life has been disassembled, the wax apple and peacock feathers returned to the back corner. I feel a little pang of this-is-really-it for my last day of high school.

          Our self-potraits and accompanying artists' statements are due. We also have to clean off our shelf and return the supplies we borrowed. I turned in