“I can’t believe your cousin is a billionaire,” Lee Sungyeol says, looking annoyed. “Nothing about that guy screamed money.”

It’s the following week and we’re standing in the Copperfield Courier offices waiting for the staff meeting to begin. The entire school has been buzzing about Chanhee’s story ever since the dance. Minho even tried to strong-arm me into writing a first person account of it. I politely declined. I field at least fifty questions a day about Chanhee from other students. No need to invite more.

“So, Heejoon,” Sungyeol says as Minho calls the meeting to order. “I don’t have a date for the Spring Fling next month. I thought you might want to go. Since you stupidly gave up the chance to go to the Valentine’s dance with me.”

I blink in surprise. “You mean you aren’t asking Tiffany?”

“Nah,” he says, smiling. “I tried. But she’s boycotting all dances on principle. After what happened with Chunji and the psycho substitute teacher, she says she’s completely over dances.”

Just when I think Sungyeol can’t any worse, he goes and surprises me. “As tempting as it is to be sloppy seconds, I’ll have to pass.”

“Whatever.” Sungyeol shrugs. “Suit yourself,” he says, and I think the issue is dropped. But after the meeting ends, he brings it up again. “Just so you know, Heejoon, I didn’t really want to take you, anyway,” he sneers. “I was merely being trying to be nice. Save you from nerdville. But now I see that’s hopeless. You’re as bad as Park ‘Geek Stink Breath’ Inyoung’s.”

Did he just called her Geek Stink Breath? “How did you know about that?” I ask suspiciously. “I thought Tiffany wrote that on the chalkboard.”

“It was my idea.” Sungyeol taps his iPod for emphasis. “Tiffany wanted an original insult and, since I’m a writer, I couldn’t help giving her something good.”

Why does this not surprise me? I’m all poised to fire off a round of insults but then I stop myself. He’s not worth it. I’m running late, anyway. I’ve got to meet Inyoung so we can head over to Union Station for a little while shopping and Quiznos. It feels good that things are getting back to normal. The last thing I need is to heads with Lee Sungyeol.

“See you later, Sungyeol,” I say simply.

“Tell Chunji I said ‘hi,’” Sungyeol says, waving good-bye.

“Chanhee,” I correct him. “His name is Chanhee.”

---

“I wanted to show you something,” Mom says later that night. She reaches into her bag and pulls out a folded-up piece of paper. “It’s this week’s column. It comes out tomorrow, but here’s a sneak preview. I thought you should read it before it pubs.”

The headline jumps out at me straight away: TEEN LOVE GROWS UP. Wh-what? I read the first paragraph: Sometimes we don’t give teenagers the credit they deserve. We’re so quick to dismiss their romantic feelings as ‘puppy love.’ We don’t take their relationships seriously. But maybe we should. Here’s why.

I scan the rest of the article in shock. Mom’s talking about me! And Chanhee, of course. “Mom, what is this?” I ask.

“I hope you don’t mind. I didn’t use your name. Or any identifying details,” she explains. “But I wanted to tell your and Chanhee’s story. It was a nice counterpoint to the piece I wrote a few weeks ago, about teen . I think so many parents—me included—jump the gun and panic when our teenagers start dating. We automatically assume that if a girl has a boyfriend, it means she’s having . We think once hormones kick in good judgement flies out the window.”

Oh my God, we’re back on this cringe-worthy topic? I thought we left it behind weeks ago!

“But after watching you with Chanhee, I realize how wrong that is,” Mom continues.

“You do?” I ask, my eyes growing wide.

Mom smiles. “It was so sweet watching you and Chanhee together. The way you were star-crossed, but then you accepted fate. You accepted when it wasn’t in the cards for you to have a relationship, and you let him go. People always think of teens as being so irrational when they’re in love. I wanted to tell the other side of the story.”

I blush. “Thanks. I think.”

“Also, it was good to have a break from writing about crotchless ,” Mom says, rolling her eyes.

“Ew!” I shriek. “That was one phrase I never needed to hear you say.”

“Sorry,” Mom apologizes. “So, are you excited about the baby?”

I smile. “Yeah, I am.” This is the truth. I’ve always wanted a brother or sister. Being an only child gets lonely sometimes. “You know, I sort of figured out you were pregnant a while back.”

Mom clutches her stomach playfully. “Don’t tell me I was already showing a few weeks ago!”

“No, no. But when you started talking about going to see Dr. Gifford and about the house becoming more crowded, I kind of put two and two together.”

Mom’s thoughtful. “When was that?”

“The night Chanhee got here, actually. I kept meaning to ask you about it but there was so much excitement with him being here. And I also kinda figured you’d tell me when you were ready.”

“You really are growing up.” She studies my face for a minute. “You miss him, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” I admit sheepishly. “I guess that kind of goes against the point of your column.”

“Not at all. Missing him is normal. Now, if you’d hopped on a Greyhound bus to Texas, then that would be going against the column.”

I giggle despite myself. “I just wish I could talk to Chanhee,” I say. “It ended on such weird terms between us. I didn’t even get to say good-bye. And now I can’t contact him. I don’t even have his e-mail address.”

“Maybe you can,” Mom says, grinning. “I bet if you gave Dad a letter, he could pass it on to Chanhee.”

“Really?” I ask.

“I don’t see why it would be a problem.”

“Thanks, Mom!” I give her a hug. Then I go upstairs to get cracking. It takes me over an hour to compose a letter even though, in the end, it’s only one page long.

Dear Chanhee,

I hope you don’t mind me writing you like this. You left so abruptly and there are a lot of things I want to say. It’s strange not being able to walk down the hall when I want to talk to you. But I’m happy that everything worked out and you got to go back home safely.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss you. I’d also be lying if I said I didn’t like you. You know, in THAT way. I feel embarrassed writing this down on paper, but it’s the truth. I like you. I’ve liked you from the moment I met you. Even as I was trying to karate chop you to oblivion, I was secretly thinking, “Wow, this guy is amazing.” And the more I got to know you, the more amazing you became. You’re so smart, caring, funny and, of course, cute. Okay, cute is probably not a strong enough word to describe you. But I think I’ll stop there, ‘cause I’m already blushing about fifty shades of red.

I wish things could have worked out differently between us. Call it a colossal case of bad timing. Or call it a twist of fate. I know I should accept that and move on, but, still, I keep wondering “What if?” That one kiss we shared was... unbelievable. I wish there could have been more.

To be totally honest, I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. And it will probably be a long time before I feel this way again. I realize this doesn’t mean a lot right now. But I wanted you to know.

Yours,

Heejoon

I’ll probably never hear back from him, but that’s okay. This is something that I have to do. I seal the letter in an envelope and write Chanhee’s name on the front. I add an a.k.a. Kim Chunji in small letters, just to be funny.

Then I track down Dad in the kitchen. He’s having a cup of coffee. My father is the only person I know who drinks, like, a pot of coffee at night. Never in the mornings, always before bed. “Hey, Dad, I was wondering something...” I begin, turning the envelope over in my hands.

“You want me to get a letter to Chanhee?”

“Mom talked to you,” I say.

He sets his coffee mug down on the table. Actually, no. I deduced it from the writing on the front. You see that part there where it’s addressed to Lee Chanhee?” he teases. “That’s kind of a dead giveaway.”

“Hardy har har.” But I laugh despite myself.

“What did you write?” Dad asks, taking the letter from my hands.

“Uh, hello, nosy much?” I say.

He stirs his coffee. “It’s personal, huh? Okay then. I’ll just wait till I get to work to steam it open.”

“Dad!”

“I’m only kidding,” he says, giving me an exaggerated wink. “I don’t need to steam it open. I work for the FBI, remember? We have better methods.”

- - -

Next chapter is the final! ;w; I can't believe this... So fast, don't you think? ;w; But anyway! No sad moment! Haha. Enjoy the chapter, okay? ^^

And, the letter. Hihi. I almost wrote it in the cheesy way but then they are not dating, so why should I put it in the cheesy way? Hihi. I hope you like the letter though. ^^

Double update because missasiangirl wanted too! ^^