Eunwoo hears from Yebin, who hears from Seungkwan, who hears from Seokmin, who hears from Soonyoung – which actually makes the information in question legitimate, because had that chain stopped at Seungkwan or Seokmin, Eunwoo wouldn’t even consider it the truth – that Mingyu has a thing for Kyulkyung. Which is totally understandable. Kyulkyung is one of the prettiest girls Eunwoo knows, and she’s super sweet to boot, and her Korean is impeccable even though she’s an international student. And she got an A in the multivariable calculus class that Eunwoo dropped after getting a less than stellar grade on the midterm. Eunwoo suddenly feels like a potato.

“You okay there, my friend?” Yebin says, crawling over the clothes pile at the end of Eunwoo’s bed to sit on her. Eunwoo slaps the offending away and Yebin just laughs and cuddles next to her in response.

Eunwoo groans. “He wasn’t supposed to go here.” Sighs. “And now I’m stuck with him for the rest of my life.”

Yebin snorts. “You’re so dramatic,” she says, imitating one of Eunwoo’s sighs. Eunwoo kicks her in the shins. “Stop trying to make up some kind of movie dialogue. And I mean, didn’t you say this university was both your second choice but you guys both didn’t get into your firsts?”

“Don’t be practical right now,” Eunwoo whimpers. “Anything but practical.”

Yebin untangles her arms from around Eunwoo and pulls herself out of Eunwoo’s bed. “You actually make me wanna go to lecture today,” she says, patting Eunwoo’s cheeks before leaving their room with a loud PEACE OUT, MOTHAER.

Eunwoo sighs again and starts to consider applying for a single room next year.

Eunwoo’s known Mingyu since middle school, when she cried because she’d gotten a seventy-four on the math test their teacher passed back. Mingyu had tapped her on the back just before the snot kicked in with a sheepish smile on his face saying, “Uh, that’s actually my test,” before swapping the seventy-four with a ninety-six quickly, to prevent any further damage. They’d been inseparable ever since.

It’s weird thinking about how much Mingyu’s changed over the years – from being her height to towering over her, the way his voice cracked when their eighth grade teacher made him read a passage to the class and how deep his voice was now, from not having the confidence to admit he liked their class president during junior year to having girls in their department giggle whenever he smiled at them – especially when she’s trying to make sense of her accounting homework across from him. When she glances up, she catches him watching something on his phone and trying his best not to laugh aloud and disturb everyone in the library, his face turning red from keeping it all in. God, Mingyu was so dumb. At least that hadn’t changed.

But he was also really hot. Eunwoo hated herself sometimes.

“Hey,” he whispers when he notices her looking at him. She flinches a little as Mingyu brings his face closer to hers, turning his textbook around to face her. “You took this class last semester, right? How do you do this type of problem?”

Eunwoo sighs as she motions for some paper, like she can’t be bothered, because she really couldn’t, but she always made an exception for him. Mingyu scrambles to supply it to her outreached hand. “Why don’t you go to office hours or something?” she whispers back, snatching the paper he was doing his homework on instead.

He holds up his hands in mock-surrender at her hostility. “I don’t think you should put an eight AM lecture on your schedule next semester.”

“And I don’t think you should keep bothering your friend who has an eight AM lecture to help you with your homework for free.”

Mingyu pouts, and it’s disgusting, it really is, the farthest thing from cute, or at least that’s what Eunwoo tries to convince herself. “Savage.”

The students of their department are out for a gathering over barbeque, and Mingyu and Seokmin are having some sort of high note battle as they’re waiting for their meat to grill. Seungcheol, Joshua, and Minkyung are watching it all unfold with a sort of awed terror, while she can hear Yebin howling with laughter from the other side of the long table they’re seated at.

“I have horrible taste,” Eunwoo says into Kyulkyung’s shoulder as Mingyu lets out some sort of high pitched squeal that could shatter glass. How he still looks good letting out the devil’s cry, she doesn’t know.

Kyulkyung just pats her head in comfort. “No, you don’t,” she insists just as Seokmin attempts the same note and Mingyu almost snorts water out his nose from how hard he’s laughing. “I think the word for it is…acquired.”

Eunwoo pokes Kyulkyung’s armpit. “I hate you,” she mumbles, readjusting her head on Kyulkyung’s shoulder.

Kyulkyung laughs in response. “I know, I know.” She pinches at Eunwoo’s sides in retaliation.

As she’s squirming and trying to fend away Kyulkyung’s hands from her belly, Eunwoo notices Mingyu glancing over at Kyulkyung with a gentle smile on his face, and it makes her stomach tighten, maybe due to all the meat she ate, maybe a little, teensy bit, out of jealousy. “I mean, can’t imagine how it is for you,” she sighs and Kyulkyung raises her eyebrows. “Being the one that idiot likes.”

“Me?” Kyulkyung asks, half-laughing. Eunwoo gives her a look that says are you serious right now? “Mingyu likes me,” she repeats flatly, like some kind of deadpan joke.

“Wait,” Eunwoo starts. She sits up, realizing her mistake. “Did you not know? Oh my god, this wasn’t supposed to happen. He probably wanted to surprise you like in some shoujo manga or something. Not like he actually reads those, he told me never to tell…Oh my god, , ignore what I just said, I said nothing if he asks –”

The high note battle’s turned into a low note battle and Seokmin is hitting a note so low that Eunwoo can feel vibrate through the hand she’s placed on the table. Kyulkyung just looks at her as if she’s grown another head. “I don’t think that’s right,” she replies with a knowing, amused smile on her face.

“I know being liked by someone so thirsted after can be hard to imagine,” Eunwoo tries, suddenly feeling bad for Mingyu for liking someone so dense. She always thought Kyulkyung caught onto things pretty quickly, but people were constantly proving her wrong these days, so who was she to judge? “But you’re a pretty girl and Mingyu’s always liked the smiley and loud type, so –”

“What I mean is,” Kyulkyung says, interjecting. Mingyu lets out his low note in response to Seokmin’s in the pause before Kyulkyung starts speaking again, and Yebin bends over from laughing so hard, her hands on Minkyung’s shoulders to support herself. “I don’t think I’m the one Mingyu likes.”

Now Eunwoo’s confused. “But Yebin told me,” she tries again, and Kyulkyung shakes her head, stopping that conversation before Eunwoo can start it.

“But Eunwoo,” Kyulkyung says, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “If you’re really that concerned about who Mingyu likes, why don’t you just ask him yourself?”

Eunwoo suddenly gets the feeling that she’s missing some hint Kyulkyung’s trying to give her. Or maybe she’s just the one being dense now. She huffs, burying her head back into Kyulkyung’s shoulder, who accommodates her once more with a laugh. If only things were that simple.

“You really had to drive yourself even when it’s only a ten minute walk from campus,” Eunwoo deadpans, picking through the playlists on Mingyu’s phone as they stare at the traffic before them. Part of the privileges of being shotgun, not like she didn’t always get them, along with making sure the doors were locked after he parked the car because the remote on Mingyu’s keys broke. That wasn’t so much a privilege as it was a responsibility, but she’d been the first person Mingyu drove after he’d gotten his license, so Eunwoo didn’t think she could complain.

Mingyu smiles, guilty, and she hates how much she loves the way his canines poke out from the rest of his very even and white teeth. “You’re welcome. Because I know how much you’d love to walk up that hill on a very full stomach,” he retorts.

She glances at him through her peripheral vision, not wanting to move from where she’s leaning back so far into the seat that her double chin comes out. He barks out a short laugh before pressing on the gas again.

A short silence settles between them. He clears his throat to break it at the next red light. “You were sitting with Kyulkyung all night,” Mingyu starts. Eunwoo raises an eyebrow, thinking about what Kyulkyung said about I don’t think I’m the one Mingyu likes when he was blatantly trying to ask about her now. Mingyu doesn’t like Kyulkyung, her .

“Yeah,” Eunwoo sighs, waiting for him to get to the point. “So?”

Mingyu whistles. “No need to be all snappy about it. I was just gonna say, I wish you’d have jumped in during our high note battle to fight for me because you know I don’t have the range to go against Seokmin.” Eunwoo frowns in confusion, still waiting for him to get to the point. Mingyu glances over at her, noticing her expression, and continues elaborating. “The high one, at least. That opportunity passed when I went through puberty.”

Eunwoo starts drumming her fingers against the cup-holders between them. It makes a rather satisfying plinking sound against the plastic. “Uh-huh,” she says, not even feigning interest. “Sure.”

“Because I can definitely hold the low note front, you know,” he continues, again glancing over and registering her disinterested expression. A smile twitches on the corners of his lips, charming as usual, but somewhat uncomfortable, like he was watching her eighth-grade self cry in front of his test again. “I’m, like, great at low notes, because you know, uh, my voice is so low. If we joined forces, we’d be so unbeatable at high and low note battles, you know what I mean?” And was it just her, or did his voice sound a pitch higher? “Uh, of course you do. Because you’re Jung Eunwoo, and you’ve got my back whenever I need you to.” God, when was he going to get to the point? “Haha, I’m a poet and I didn’t even know it –”

Eunwoo can’t take this anymore. “Why didn’t you tell me you liked Kyulkyung?” she blurts out. Mingyu presses on the brakes a little too hard and the car lurches into a stop, earning them a few honks from the cars behind them. Mingyu cusses before pulling to the side.

“Wait, what?” he says, rubbing his forehead with his palm in confusion – and oh my god, don’t do it Kim Mingyu, don’t do it – before pushing his hair back. Eunwoo presses her lips together, afraid that she’ll say something sudden again or that she’ll blurt out how hot she thinks Mingyu looks when his hair is pushed back, and keeps thinking how much she really hates herself sometimes.

“I said,” she starts again when she’s pretty sure she’s collected herself. “Why didn’t you tell me you liked Kyulkyung? I could’ve helped you out, you know, put in a good word for you. Which is hard, considering how many embarrassing things I’ve seen you do, which is basically all of them –”

“Whoa, whoa,” Mingyu interrupts, shifting in his seat to face Eunwoo more. The cars on the road beside them illuminate his left cheek with their headlights as they pass. All the tension’s gone from his shoulders, and it kind of makes her mad because she’s still worked up and trying to even her breathing. The deep breaths are doing nothing to calm her heart rate. “There wasn’t anything to tell, Eunwoo!”

Eunwoo thinks she says something, like what the , Mingyu, and she’s about to get out of his ing car, because she wishes she didn’t feel so upset about this when it wasn’t his fault that he liked Kyulkyung, and even though she was trying her best not to be so upset, it was all blowing up in her face because Mingyu was an unintentional who thought this wasn’t a big deal and she couldn’t swallow it all down. Her cheeks feel hot and she doesn’t even know what kind of face she’s making – she kind of doesn’t want to know, actually – but she still likes Kim Mingyu and his dumb occasional fart jokes and pointy canine smile when she wishes she could’ve stopped a long time ago.

“Are you crying?” he says, sounding concerned. Eunwoo rolls her eyes, trying to keep her tears in by looking up at the weird blotch on the ceiling of his car, the one they tried scrubbing out with various types of hand soap and detergent, and god, any memory beside ones with Mingyu in them would be great right about now. “Did I say something? Or is it a stomach ache? I’ve got Pepto Bismol in my dorm –”

“I am not crying,” Eunwoo insists, but she feels her lips quivering anyway. “And I didn’t eat that much,” she sniffles.

Mingyu runs a hand through his hair again. It makes Eunwoo kind of want to rip his arm out of his socket. Not for real, though. “I don’t get it, I mean? You ask me about Kyulkyung, but there’s nothing for me to say? I don’t like Kyulkyung, so I’m really confused, and now you’re crying and you say it’s not a stomach ache when I know I saw you basically eating the last few orders all by yourself.”

I don’t like Kyulkyung. I don’t like Kyulkyung. Mingyu’s words keep echoing in Eunwoo’s mind until she realizes that he’s gone silent, too, giving her time to think. She looks at him, then looks away, then looks back at him again, wondering if it really can be this simple.

“Then, who do you like?” she asks, and her voice sounds so quiet for once, even to her own ears. Mingyu clears his throat, once, then again. Eunwoo in a breath, waiting.

In all honesty, it’s nothing like she dreamed it would be – something out of a shoujo manga, where the guy unabashedly declares his affections for the heroine in front of the entire school, down on one knee and all – back when she was in eleventh grade and knowingly deluding herself, after she caught Mingyu sneaking peeks over her shoulder when she was reading romantic webtoons. She’d always envisioned there’d at least be a straightforwardness to it, a kind of shamelessness like when Mingyu let the door slam behind him during the last ten minutes of lecture the day their biggest assignment was due.

But she swears the world slows down for a moment as he reaches his hand over to hover above hers on the cup-holder, placing his palm on top before gently turning her hand so he can lace his fingers with hers. His palm feels sweaty against hers, and when Eunwoo turns to glance over at him, Mingyu clears his throat again, not looking at her, but glancing back after a while. He’s smiling so wide that it could break his face and Eunwoo can feel a giddy grin growing on hers. It’s literally the farthest thing from direct, but Eunwoo, Eunwoo’s sure, his hand warm pressed against hers, that she wouldn’t trade this for the world.