Sehun always got mad at me on White Day because I historically received more chocolates than him (twenty-six compared to his three). It wasn’t that I was more good looking - although if someone were to say that, I wouldn’t argue. Sehun is loud and obnoxious as much as I am quiet and reserved. He used to show off in front of girls by inviting them to his basketball games or offering “study sessions”. I, on the other hand, was the guy who went to those basketball games and had no idea what was going on or skipped out on study sessions because I had a new novel to read.

I never learned how to flirt with girls, or how to even be in a relationship. So I never understood why I caught the eye of at least twenty-six girls in my high school each year. Despite my lack of experience, I feel relatively confident when I saunter to where Dohee is sitting. At the very least, I have an impressive White Day confession record to back me up.

“Did you like it?”

She looks up at me with those big brown eyes. I have to look away. “Huh?” Then she realizes, “Oh, yeah, it was super good. Thanks for the suggestion!”

“I’m Kim Jongin, by the way,” I offer a hand.

Returning my gesture with a firm handshake, she replies, “Song Dohee.”

What do I say next? I glance at the tablet on the table, hoping to start a conversation. “Are you a graphic designer?”

“Did the tablet give it away?” She grins. I’ve never seen a smile so perfect before. “Yeah, I am. I go to Yonsei University.”

“My hyung goes there,” I comment cheerily. “His name is Taemin. Maybe you know him?”

“I might’ve seen him, I’m not sure. Yonsei is a big school.”

“Right.” I knew that. “I go to school at Myongji University. It’s not far, maybe about a twenty minute bus ride from here.”

“That’s great,” she says. We both feel the awkwardness. She isn’t as interested in me as I am in her, which is bewildering. I suppose my looks alone won’t suffice in charming a girl like her.

“Uh, it was nice to meet you,” I finish. “Enjoy your … art.” I rush out of the cafe. hoping that maybe the memory of that encounter will completely disappear by the time I make it home. The bus pulls up to the stop, and I climb in and collapse in the back chair in utter mortification. Enjoy your art? Can I really be that unintelligent?

My phone rings. It’s Sehun, most likely calling to ask about my blind date. As soon as I answer the call he exclaims, “Sunyoung wants to study history with me!”

“Cool.”

“Aw, come on. I’ve been waiting my whole life for this.”

“By the way, that girl left me at the cafe.”

“What?” And then he bursts out laughing, so loudly I have to pull the phone away from my ear. “The great Jongin was left at a cafe by a girl? I should post this on the school website. Everyone’s going to go crazy.”

“It isn’t a big deal,” I shrug, though I’m still the wounds on my ego.

“Jongin, it’s been months since a girl has come up to talk to you, and the one date you go on, you get rejected. I finally get my revenge.”

“It wasn’t rejection, necessarily.”

He ignores me. “I’m going to have a girlfriend and more chocolates than you by the end of this semester.”

“People don’t give chocolates out when they’re in college.”

“You don’t know that,”