Chapter 19

“What the , man?” Baekhyun exclaimed.

The two paused their makeout session and I was so revolted I nearly threw up. The girl was Lee Yejun, his ex-girlfriend, the reason why Hana and Sehun got together in the first place. Sehun stared back at Baekhyun, with not a trace of regret in his eyes.

“What?” He spat.

“You’re cheating on your girlfriend, you tard!” I roared.

“Nope,” Sehun said, “as of now, she is my ex-girlfriend.”

Yejun sat up and threw her long brown hair over her bare shoulder.

“That ? Clearly Sehun was confused. Why would he choose her when he could have me?”

She giggled, as Sehun snickered.

“You ing !” I screamed. I was about to yank out all her hair extensions before someone stopped me in my tracks.

"Myunghee."

It was Hana, standing in the doorway. Her expression was lethal. I watched as Sehun’s gaze connected with hers.

“I can’t believe I let myself stoop that ing low,” she snarled, “I had forgotten all the you’ve done to me in the past. I forgot that I ing hated you.”

She her heels and marched away. I trailed behind her as she disappeared around the corner.

“Hana?” I called.

The hall was empty. I went into the nearest room and there she was: curled up against a wall in the dark, crying her eyes out.

Gone was her facade of hostility. She was vulnerable, and that’s what about falling in love.

It made you vulnerable.

"He-he said that he'd meet me in his sisters's room," she choked, "that he wanted to get away from everyone else."

I slid down next to her and let her weep into my shoulder. At times like this, words were not needed. All you needed was presence, because nothing could be said to fix what had happened.

I didn’t know what to say to her anyway.

//

The next morning was the worst. Hana was cheerful to the extent that it was abnormal. She woke me up with breakfast in bed and talked about how great life was. She whistled while she did the dishes. There was barely an indication that Sehun had even existed at all.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Yeah! I’m fine!” She exclaimed jovially.

I gave her a look.

“Really, Myunghee I am.”

Her eyes were hollow. She was a shell.

“Now, do you wanna go shopping today?”

“No, not really,” I thought in my head, “I have to study for that physics exam on Monday.”

“Yes,” I said, “I’d love to.”

As we wandered around the shopping centre like mindless teenaged consumers compelled by capitalism, I began to accept the fact that being overly cheerful was Hana’s coping mechanism. Some people cry, some people write poetry, and some people get angry. Hana’s was the worst because I couldn’t help her. She didn’t want to be helped. I’d rather her cry on my shoulder than retain all her distraughtness.

“This is cute,” she said, the fabric of a grey blouse.

I hummed in agreement.

“Myunghee?”

“Hm?”

“You should date a boy.”

I snorted at her.

“Uh huh. Yeah. Right.”

“I’m serious.”

“Highschool relationships are frivolous. They never last.”

“Okay there, miss cynical.”

Hana chuckled and selected the blouse. She led me to the fitting rooms and we chatted as she tried it on.

“Seriously, Myunghee, I don’t even think you hate Baekhyun. I think what you feel for him is so strong that you can’t even understand it. So, naturally, you assume it’s hatred.”

I rolled my eyes. Was she serious?

“Is your middle name ‘bull’?” I deadpanned.

“No, Myunghee. I’m being one hundred percent honest. You and Baekhyun have this really ually intense love-hate thing going on. Some sort of nerdy one too, like you’d be arguing about chemical formulas and then start making out from the . God, you should see the way he looks at you when he’s mad at you. Like he hates you so much but can’t help but want to you right then and there.”

“Ew, Hana! What the ?”

I could almost see Hana’s smug grin.

“Just stating the obvious.”

Then she burst into giggles, and I didn’t stop her. If she garnered happiness from my misery, then so be it.