“I can’t stand it anymore!” I finally exploded. “Take them. Take them all! They’re all yours, Bae Joohyun!!!”

I threw my basket and hockey stick on the floor, feeling totally frustrated, and raced towards the exit. Irene was right behind me, perhaps hoping for a sidewalk sale. She didn’t pay. Bae Joohyun never worried about the cost of things, not even once in her lifetime.

The store alarm went off. It was shrieking at me, blasting like it was inches from my ear.

Damn it!

Without opening my eyes, I lifted my head, hit the snooze button on my alarm clock and dropped it over the side of my bed. My entire life being was numb, soul practically drained to the point of no return.

What a horrible nightmare!

Nightmare?

I felt a pang of guilt slapping me on the face. How could I even think of something as atrocious as that?

Irene was, is and forever will be my best friend.

“How many times are you going to let that thing go off?” My sister whined.

I opened one eye and stared across the canyon between our twin beds.

Taeyeon’s head was a few inches off the pillow, her middle length blonde hair sticking out all over. Her hairstyle made her look young, too young to be pregnant.

But that’s what good old Taeyeon was, home from her first year of college and pregnant.

I’m seventeen, three years behind her, but have more sense, more mature and more independent than my ‘big’ sister will ever have when she’s fifty.

“How many times?” My half-sister continued her nagging session.

I used to wonder when I was a kid why we both had different surnames despite being sisters. I thought I was the adopted child as we didn’t share even an inch of similarity at all. Mom and dad loved my older sister a lot more as she's their golden child, the perfect daughter and I would always feel like I'm the black sheep in the family. But turned out she was a child from our mom’s first marriage, and I only learnt about that fact when I was old enough to understand the complexity of adult’s life.

“How many times has it already gone off?” I asked.

“Nine.”

“Nine!”

That made it at least eight o’clock. 

Crap! My meeting was at eight-thirty.

Quickly, I leaped out of my bed, stepping straight down on the clock’s metal edge and went screaming and hopping over a chair where a pile of clean clothes had been dumped. I delved through them in search of the right combination of outfit for today. This was not how I want to start my summer job at Camp Russian Roulette.

“Don’t forget to zip.” My sister called when I rushed out from the bedroom, still pulling up my shorts.

I spent just enough time in the bathroom to see that my eyes, which are coal- black, looked hideously like two scum ponds, and my long orange hair was wild with humidity.  

At the bottom of the steps, I picked up my backpack, which I luckily had packed the night before and pulled my bike helmet out of the closet. Twisting my hair up on my head, I wondered if I could hide my bad hair day by wearing the helmet during the whole meeting session.

I knew every turn of the back route of SM College, the site for Camp Russian Roulette like the back of my palms, as the place was where my mother has taught since I was six. I pedaled, passing three miles of alleys and yards, fantasizing that I was a participant in the Tour de France, just missing a squirrel, my favorite neighborhood ajussi, Jung Hyun Don and a jogger, which I considered awesome as I didn’t get into an accident yet. I didn’t mind at all when a man his sprinkler full blast as I was riding across his lawn towards the hole in the fence, my private entrance to the college.

But as fast as I pedaled, I couldn’t erase the nightmare from my box of memories. Scenes from it, as well as memorable moments from last night’s double date and the prom, all of which I’d like to delete, flashed before my eyes like the splashes of sun between trees.

Last night it had been Jackson and Irene, and at the prom, Bogum and Irene, and at the Christmas party, Taehyung and Irene, and at the basketball tournament….

Well, franky it was always the same old story, just a different guy.

It was a scenario of fill in the blank: Whomever I dated, soon dated Irene.

And how could I blame them?

Irene is delicate, overflowing with mysterious aura, a beauty who is astonishingly elegant and seem so flawless each and every single day that I was sure she could have been a high class model herself.  She has silvery laugh and full of aegyo and graceful neck of a dancer. Somehow, my chirpy, shy, little grade school friend had become a high school swan. And I, well, I’ve always been more like the ice princess, didn’t bother to interact with others unless they started first.

I was thinking about the unfairness of the world, about how the guys always ended leaving me for Irene while rumbling down the steps that let to SM College’s student center. I hadn’t ridden a bike down the steps since I was ten and I might had forgotten how usually a person’s speed built up when going down the steps and calamity would befall upon that person when he/she reaches the quick turn at the bottom.

And yes, calamity did befall upon me!

Out of the blue, I was swooping down on a girl and a guy with a guitar case. Both faces turned towards me, then the girl flattened herself against the wall and the guy jumped into the bushes, clutching his guitar like a fragile baby.

I shot between them, screeching on my brakes, then wheeled around to make sure they were okay. Two fuming red faces stared down at me. I gulped, realizing the repercussion of my daydream about Irene and all my exes.

“I’m sorry.” I gasped. “I’m really sorry. I forgot about the last turn. I guess… I guess I’m sort of out of practice.”

“Well,” the girl said. “Perhaps you should really spend some time to do that. You do at it.”

She was fair; though flush with anger, still portraying a beautiful profile and wearing a white snapback, making her looked so oppa-like but at the same time absolutely cool. I didn’t mind her tone of voice; after all, if their reflexes hadn’t been good, the three of us would have been a sandwich. But I didn’t like the way the guy was staring at me, analyzing me from head to toes. He too was stunningly attractive albeit my disliking of the pause and little devilish smile halfway through his once-over.

Self-consciously, I reached down towards my shorts.

Crap! I’ve forgotten to zip!

“I’m late. What’s your excuse?” I growled, yanking the zipper up.

“I don’t need one.” He replied, in a somewhat sardonic tone.

I walked my bike away from them as fast as I could and locked it into the rack that was in front of the student center.

My watch said 8.45. 15 minutes late was forgiven right? Plus, since I was late, I was sure that none of the other counselors would have seen my ‘glorious’ arrival.

I checked the letter in my backpack for the room number, and then my eyeballs almost popped out from their sockets. Nine thirty. The meeting wasn’t until nine freaking thirty!

I collapsed at my bike seat, cursing silently at my foolishness.

Fortunately, wonderful bacon and egg smells were blowing out of the vent from the student center soon resurrected me. Hungry, with some time to spend on breakfast and doll myself up, I headed inside.

I was standing in line, studying the menu board, when I heard a voice that made me forget about every annoying thing that had happened. It was a god-sent voice I knew from last year’s math class. A voice I knew from practices with the girls’ basketball team. A voice Irene and I and a lot of girls downloaded from YouTube the day the television station interviewed him. It was Lee Taeyong, the closest thing SM High had to be the next visual god in the world of idols.

Rumor was that Lee Taeyong was training for his debut. All I knew was every time he hit the floor, danced enthusiastically, hitting the beats with his vivacious moves, rapping his rhymes, girls’ hearts did somersaults.

But he didn’t date anyone, not really. He was so devoted to debuting; he didn’t even seem to notice all the babes gawking at him. Even Lisa, who had gone out with almost every hot guy our high school, was still hoping for a chance with him.

O unattainable hunk, O handsome protégée!

“See something you like?” asked a guy who had gotten in line behind me. I guessed I was holding him up.

“I sure do.”

“In the meantime,” he added, “do you thing you could get some food?”

I spun around. It was the guy with the guitar; only he had left it somewhere. He was smiling.

Always smiling.

“I can’t help wondering… Which you were late for, breakfast or him?” He nodded towards Taeyong.

“Neither. I have a meeting.” I replied, feeling tick off. “I thought it was at eight thirty but it’s an hour later.”

“Really?” he said, as if I was fabricating a story.

Well, I was not, dude!

“Really.” I answered firmly. “Scrambled egg, please and double order of sausage with fries.” I tried to move away from the guy.

“Omelet with salmon, that’s it.” He said to the girl in the hair net, then turned to me. “Are you planning to sit with him?”

“Is that any business of yours?” I asked.

“Guess not.” He admitted. “But if you are, you might want to check out your shirt first. Unless you’ve done that on purpose.”

I glanced down.

! Double and triple !

The buttons and holes were mismatched. As if the window in white shirt wasn’t bad enough, dark satiny black was peeking through. I had put on my sister’s bra. Cheeks burning, I re-buttoned my shirt. The guy discreetly looked away, which I thanked god for that, but the downside of it was I caught the way the corner of his mouth turned up.

Taeyong, fortunately hadn’t noticed me, hadn’t notice anything but the food that was being piled on his plate. He was upset because the cafeteria didn’t serve low-cholesterol scrambled and freshly squeezed juice. People in line began to grow impatient. A manager had been called to talk to him.

“I guess he takes his body seriously.” The guy behind me said.

“You would too, if you had one like that.”

“Perhaps,” he said and dug in his pocket for money.

I dug in mine. I did it twice, though I knew after the first time, I hadn’t brought a penny.

“Maybe you could check your sock,” he suggested. “The blue one.”

I didn’t know why I even bothered to look down to see that I was wearing one blue sock and one white one.

Ultimate humiliation!

Note to self: Make sure to check my socks next time!

“Do you have time before your meeting to wash dishes?” he asked.

“They’ll put this on the tab for me.” I said, trying to sound confident. I was tempted to take a bite before my breakfast was confiscated.

When we arrived at the cashier, I smiled weakly at the girl. “You’re never going to believe this. But…”

“I’m paying for hers.” The guy behind me said.

“I’ve seen stranger matchups,” The girl with the name-tag Park Sojin remarked dryly.

I picked up my tray and walked quickly towards a table. “What did she mean by that?” I asked when he had caught up.

He shrugged and laughed. “Would you like to sit with me?”

“I guess I’m supposed to.”

He stooped. “No.” he said coolly. “You’re not supposed to. It was just an invitation.” Then he moved ahead of me, found a table and sat down with his back to me.

Damn it, Seul! You messed up so many times today.

I came around from behind. “Could I sit here?” I asked shyly.

He hesitated then nodded.

When I was settled, he pushed the salt and pepper towards me. “I’m Mino. Song Minho.”

“Seulgi. Kang Seulgi.” I replied, still feeling shy.

He smiled at me. His eyes were dark, that they made me think of the midnight sky. Those dark-glass eyes rimmed with thick, long, dark lashes that brushed his cheeks every time he closed his eyes, seemed to have some sort of magnetism that attracted me, almost drowning me each time I stared into them.

I cleared my throat and then focused on my eggs, before glancing sideways when Taeyong passed by with his tray. Mino followed my glance. We ate in silence for a few minutes.

“Do you like to wear your helmet a lot?” He asked at last.

I thought I could pass the day wearing my helmet but I guessed I was wrong. “I got up late. I didn’t braid my hair. It gets kind of wild in humid weather.”

“Is it orange?” he wondered out loud.

I looked at him, surprise.

“Your eyebrows are orange.”

“Yeah…So?” I shot him a glare. Even if I like my orange hair a lot, I didn’t like to think of myself as carrot colored.

“Can I see?”

“What?”

“Can I see your orange hair?” he asked innocently.

“You’ve already seen my sister’s black bra, my blue sock and my fly open!” I exclaimed.  “Isn’t that enough?”

Conversation came to a halt at the tables around us. Everyone fell into a deep silence.

Taeyong, who had sat down several tables away, glanced over his shoulder, and then turned back to his breakfast. Mino’s elbows were up on the table. He was laughing behind his hands.

But when I snapped open the chin strap and pull off my helmet, he stopped laughing. There was an odd look on his face. His mouth opened a bit.

“Don’t get me wrong. Orange suits you. After all, as Frank Sinatra once said, orange is the happiest color.” His devilish smile decorated his lips, his eyes brightened. 

I stared back at him, then yanked and twisted the long tumble of hair into a quick, loose braid and resumed eating, totally ignoring him. Despite his what I assumed a compliment rather than a sarcasm, I could think of nothing interesting to talk about. I chewed and watched the wide shoulders and powerful back of Lee Taeyong wondering why he was there.

“Your friend,” said Mino. “Scam-Yong, is he training with the college’s dancing trainer this summer?”

Here for the summer like me? Taeyong and I one the same campus, and Irene far away, dancing with some troupe downtown. As soon as I thought that, the old guilt crept in.

“You’re blushing.” Mino commented.

I rubbed my cheeks.

He smiled but didn’t have much more to say while we ate. And that was all right with me. The wheels were turning in my head. I had some research, a little planning and a lot of daydreaming to do.

One thing i wanna say, let MinSeul happen please~~~~