He swears his heart has never pounded this fast before.

          Not in PE class, not in the race track, not even during that one time he and his friends went dingdong-ditching.       

          He tries not to stare at Bae Joohyun. The Council’s vice-president. His vice-president patiently sorting out files beside him.

          “Hm.” She let out hum, and he wonders how anyone could look so beautiful and ethereal in some dusty and dingy classroom. Black hair clung to porcelain skin, and his eyes wander down to her lips.

          Snap out of it.

          He also swears he’s not a ert.

          Snapping his eyes back to the box in front of him, he silently thanks all the gods above of the major of luck he has. For fate (and a very meticulous principal) has it, that every Friday, all members of the Student Council are required to stay behind for community service (‘fancy word for mandatory detention,’ he heard Seungwan mutter). 

          He glances up at the wall clock and sees that it is 5:56. He hears others start to pack up and put away the things they’ve been sorting and filing, and at the corner of his eye, he sees Joohyun do the same.

          No! Don’t go.

          He wants to say those words. Actually, much more. Words that he dreamt of saying to her for a very long time now. He imagines cornering her in some secluded area, her blushing face apparent and shocked, and he would step forward, chest puffed out and announce:

          I love you Bae Joo­-

          The clock strikes six, and the timer that Seungwan sets in her phone rings. A flurry of movement arises and it is a blur of papers and dust. When it settles down, he is alone.

          Everyone left; Joohyun being the first to step out of the room.

          Bogum sighs and sets his box aside. He fingers the keys in his pocket.

          Maybe next time.

          He thinks that to himself as he locks the room.

          He walks home that day accompanied by thoughts of confessions, blushes, and porcelain skin.