It was winter when Baekhyun transferred to our class. Outside, the frost glided over the windows, dancing in intricate patterns, like carvings in crystals. The snow fell steadily, blanketing the rooftops in white. Inside, it was cozy. My woolen sweater was itchy, but it was warm.

Baekhyun stood before the third grade homeroom class in a poised manner, like he knew everything would ensue in perfection. He smiled prettily, introduced himself, and bowed. He took a seat at the far end of the classroom, near the picture windows. We made eye-contact. It was brief and unremarkable: I did not feel the intense hatred with the fiery passion of a thousand suns, and I did not want to strangle him.

But that would all change.

Throughout the rest of the school year, his popularity shot up like a rocket. Everybody knew Byun Baekhyun, and everybody loved him. He was ebullient and hilarious and gifted in all aspects.  

It was no surprise that we never really spoke. He was the kid who could execute complex monkey bar tricks, enough to astonish the whole of the third grade. I was the hot-tempered girl with the awkward pigtails, who screamed at people for no reason and had a proficiency for academics. I was second only to Baekhyun.

Of course he irked me. He was always a little bit better. He managed to be academically adept, maintained his popularity, and made 3 different sports teams all at the same time. When he made baseball, (his 3rd sports team) I had decided that I didn't like Baekhyun.

We became acquainted when I accidentally bumped into him in the anarchic cafeteria, spilling fruit punch all over his stark white uniform. The environment around us was in a state of total pandemonium, so nobody had time to notice Baekhyun dragging a small girl (who was thoroughly terrified) out through the back door. It led to the sports field, where Baekhyun completely lost it.

"How could you do this, you clumsy butthole?" He roared. With every demeaning adjective, his voice grew louder.

I was in a state of stupefaction. My jaw had dropped a fraction of an inch. Byun Baekhyun never lost his composure. Here he was, screaming insults at me like he was going through menopause.

It wasn't long before I, too, lost it. Nobody disrespected me.

"Oh yeah, you dumb buttface?" I countered. My ears burned and I felt a foreign type of rage coursing through my veins. The mild dislike at the beginning of the year had turned to intense hatred.

"I hate girls like you, always so overachieving and boring. I've disliked you from the start!"

"Yeah? Well I hate you too! Boys like you, so arrogant and pompous! You're nothing behind that glittery smile and soccer jersey!"

"You're stupid!"

"You're ugly!"

"You're poo!"

"You're a toilet seat!"

"Your face reminds me of a frog!"

"You are a frog!"

We didn't speak for the rest of the year, but occasionally sent scathing glares at each other in the hallway.

When we were assigned to complete a project about botany together, I was ready to kill. We were to prepare a slide presentation about our choice of plant, and (if applicable) provide a live sample of the specimen.

Baekhyun had raised his hand and insisted that we be separated. To our dismay, we were refused by the teacher. She was firm with her choices of partners.

I wanted to research hydrangeas. I argued that my mother grew a bunch, so we could just take a pot to school they would be our live specimen. Baekhyun disagreed, calling me a butthead. He wanted to research something 'cool', like poison berries. I don't recall with what method, but somehow, Baekhyun successfully persuaded me to go out to the woods at the rear of his house to scavenge for toxic florae.

It was ludicrous, mainly because it was so well formulated yet bound to fail. Baekhyun packed a whole backpack of provisions: snacks, drinks, some form of map, a flashlight, insect repellent, bandages. It were as if we were embarking on a high-stakes hiking trip. We arranged it so that our parents thought we were at each other's houses, because we both knew they wouldn't permit us to do something as vacuous and parlous as this.

We met in front of the woods early in the morning, because Baekhyun rationalized that we would need the whole day. Armed with breakfast granola bars, we marched into the small forest.

Around midday, I spotted a mosquito. Just one, and it was very small. Baekhyun fumbled for the repellent, and coated himself in several layers of noxious slime, virulent to the Mosquitos. This was when I realized that Baekhyun had mild entomophobia.

"I hate Mosquitos," he mumbled angrily. He fiddled with his compass.

"You hate them?"

"Yes!"

"Or are you just..." I got close to his face, "afraid?"

Baekhyun stumbled away from me, furiously shaking his head. His shiny hair bounced.

"Buzz," I mocked, "buzz, buzz."

He was vexed, I could tell, but he was also uneasy.

"Hey...Mosquitos carry all types of diseases. Malaria, Chikungunya, Yellow Fever..."

I rolled my eyes.

"Oh, relax. Yellow fever only occurs in tropical Africa and the Americas. I honestly doubt you'll be infected with Malaria and Chikungunya from a little Korean mosquito."

"Well you're stupid so I don't trust you."

"Fine then, I hope you die from Chikungunya."

"I hope you do from being stupid."

"I'm not stupid, in fact, I'm very smart. You're stupid for calling me stupid."

"Whatever, stupid. Here, take this book and look for some poisonous plants."

I was disinclined to follow Baekhyun's orders, but I did, so he would shut up. As I wandered farther and farther away from him, I heard a screech. High-pitched. Bloodcurdling.

"Oh my god! Baekhyun?" I called. I ran back to him, and there he was, right where I left him.

Byun Baekhyun, golden boy, was having a panic attack over a tiny mosquito. The notion of it was rather comical; but in actuality, I was inundated with what to do.

He tried to stand up, but he was shaking and hyperventilating.

"Oh god we have to leave!" He shouted, trying once again to stand.

I tried to be calm and rational.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. Deep breaths, yeah? In, out. Don't focus on anything else, just breathe."

He closed his eyes and attempted to breathe deeply. After a little while, it began to take affect. As we started back home, we exchanged few words.

"Why did you come to the forest if you knew you had entomophobia?"

"I-I thought it was just a little-kid thing, yknow? Last time I had a panic attack I was five. I thought I was over it."

"I see."

"Hey, you better not tell anyone about this, or I'll kill you, poo-head."

"Lips are sealed, frog."

For our botany project we researched blue hydrangeas. We got a 98%.