“Hey, Neera. Is this yours?” My roommate waved a blue shoebox in the air.             

I stopped from putting my pile of clothes in a box, and looked up. “Huh? Oh, yeah. That’s mine. Thanks.”

She handed it to me before continuing to pack her old things.

It’s graduation day tomorrow, and soon we have to leave the dorm to go back to our families. I have started to dorm since sophomore year due to convenience. I realized that living within campus would save me from being uncomfortable in the subway. And that’s exactly why I have to clean and gather three years of things into a big box.

I stared at the blue shoebox. I don’t really remember what I put inside it. I took the lid of the box only to be met with a flash of recognition.

A snapped rubber band, a piece of white crumpled paper, and a red scarf.

Have you ever experienced losing something – your favorite toy you used to play with all day when you were six, a favorite shirt, or a diary you used to write on every single day?

Well, I have.

While looking for missing things, there were times I would come across other things I once missed but have long since forgotten. It’s as if these things never existed at all until the moment I find them again.

And now, I found this box when I wasn’t even searching for it.

I let out a bitter laugh. I suppose this is exactly where he belongs - among my pile of missing things.

The Red Scarf

“It’s so hot I think I can eat a whole watermelon.” I muttered under my breath as I wrote on my composition notebook. “Too bad I’m too broke to buy one.”

Woozi, who was sitting beside me, chuckled. “Well it’s not the weather’s fault. Who told you to wear a scarf during summer?”

We were in the classroom, waiting for our professor to come. It was one of our performance task days wherein we were required to perform one of our compositions. I was sweating due to nervousness, and it certainly did not help that the classroom felt like a sauna.

My major wasn’t composition but Woozi encouraged me to take it with him because apparently, he was ‘lonely’ and he pushed that it would help me with my singing anyway.

I tugged on the scarf around my neck. “I always wear this scarf. Besides, it makes me relax.”

Woozi tapped his pen on his desk. “You don’t have to remind me. You’ve practically been wearing it since the first day we met at the talent show.”

He stopped tapping his pen, and stared at my face as if he was trying to see through me.

“Hey,” I stuttered. “Stop staring.”

“Tell me, Neera. What are you hiding behind that scarf?”

“Huh? What are you talking about?” I tugged at my scarf uncomfortably.

“If it makes you feel relaxed, you must be hiding something behind it, right?” Woozi leans forward and touched the tip of my scarf.

“Hey…Don’t touch it…” I gulped.

Woozi was right. We have only been friends for a few months but because we have been together all the time since the start of the school year, he had developed the ability to see right through me.

“C’mon, just tell me why you wear it every single day.” He flashed a lopsided grin. “Don’t you trust me?”

I played with my nails, and tried to avoid his eyes. “I have a scar on my neck. I got it when I was a kid. It’s really ugly and people will laugh at me for it—“

Word vomit.

Woozi put his left hand on my shoulder to stop me from talking. He flashed a smile that made his eyes disappear into slits. Just the way I like it.

“Is that why you’re always so nervous? Because you think everyone’s going to laugh at you? I don’t understand why you think that way,” He tugged my scarf once more before he continued.  “When you’re so amazing in my mind.”

I looked away, flustered. “I…uh… If you think complimenting me would make me remove my scarf – “

“Wait!” Woozi suddenly burst out as if he just had an epiphany. “If you promise to never wear that scarf again, I’m going to do something for you.”

I laughed at his cute outburst before considering his proposal. “What will you do for me?”

He leaned back on his chair and flashed a proud smile.

“I’m going to buy you a whole watermelon.”

A Piece of White Crumpled Paper