A/N: Parallel chapter to the previous part!~

~~~

12:00 PM

“Look at your friend over there, , has he dyed his hair?”

“He looks like Einstein’s frigging lovechild, Jesus Christ.”

“More like someone dumped a whole bag of flour on his head.”

“That better not be a bad thing, ‘Myeon.”

Junmyeon only rolls his eyes before resuming sloshing his spoon around his bowl of soup. “It ain’t my fault he does,” he says with a grimace. "Jesus, are they trying to poison us with this...whatever this is?"

From his position a mere fourteen feet away, Sehun zips his jacket before running a hand through uncombed hair and manages a weak smile at the three or so girls who, rather indiscreetly, swoon in his direction while keeping their (creepy, at least in Sehun’s opinion) gazes locked on him. He’s learned to ignore them at this point, even though he won’t deny that it gets difficult sometimes. Very difficult.

Bringing the spoon to his lips, his eyes automatically look up and he swallows his soup (which nearly goes down the wrong pipe) when his gaze lands on Jongin, who is rather...busy with trying to control his two friends, the ones Sehun keep seeing with him all the time, and failing rather miserably. He chuckles low in his throat when Jongin’s friend - the one whose grin closely resembles that of a cat, practically hollers something along the lines of ‘it looks fine, stop worrying, damn it!’, closely followed by the blond scrambling to shut him up. It’s rather comical and Sehun can’t help but stare.

He’s been observing the blond for a while now, ever since he managed to get a seat next to the latter a couple of days ago (in all honesty, he had practically begged Junmyeon to exchange places with him for that very reason). He doesn’t really remember, but something he very well remembers is how silent yet low key energetic the blond; or, Jongin, was as they sat next to each other. In all honesty, Sehun doesn’t even know if Jongin was aware of his presence given that the latter never even looked up during the short time his team was there, but a small part of him wishes he did. Just because.

Looking up from his spoon, Sehun’s eyes land on Jongin’s table just in time to see the latter sipping on a glass of milk and before he knows it, his brain is supplying him with images from the time when his shirt got drenched in the same liquid and he has to clear his throat to stop himself from chuckling. The feeling of disgust when said liquid began seeping into his undershirt is still fresh in his mind, along with the absolutely horrified expression on the blond’s part. It all happened so fast Sehun has, unfortunately, forgotten majority of it but what he does remember, clearly, however, is the blond’s blush upon realizing what he’d done. The image of Jongin, frozen with a (presumably empty, Sehun thinks) milk carton in hand and face dusted a light shade of coral will most likely never leave his mind for a long, long while. Not that Sehun minds, anyway.

“Dude!”

Sehun jumps a little, splashing a few drops of soup all over him when he flinches. “God damn it,” he mumbles before looking up, at a rather pissed off looking Chanyeol. “What?”

“To your left, birdbrain.”

Following Chanyeol’s gaze, Sehun does, indeed, look to his left and fights the urge to bite his lip.

“Me and my friend think you’re really handsome,” a blonde girl wearing far too much makeup for Sehun’s liking, practically squeals in his ear and he instinctively leans away. She’s got a pair of shiny, black leggings practically sticking to her legs as well as a rather short skirt clinging to her thighs (Sehun almost asks her why on Earth she chose to wear a skirt on top of leggings but he quickly decides against it). Not wanting to look her, or her friend, for that matter, in the eyes, he opts to keep his gaze fixated on her rather ugly, frilly skirt instead. Upon closer inspection, he realizes his sister owns the same one. 

“Here’s my number,” the brunette says, her deep voice quite the contrast to her friend’s high pitched one. Either way, Sehun finds himself heavily annoyed.

It’s the same thing every day; girls walk up to him, say their thing - which is usually always something along the lines of ‘date me’ or ‘do you have a girlfriend?’, he sits there and forces himself to listen before accepting whatever they’ve brought for him, whether it be their number or a bouquet of flowers. The latter never fails to creep Sehun out; he’s never understood the whole ‘giving flowers to people you barely know’ thing, but he’d rather not question their antics, so he finds himself accepting them without a word, save for an overdramatic, cheesy grin and a ‘thank you’. Over the years, his ‘thank you’s have gotten significantly less honest and the fact that none of the girls (it’s only ever girls, to his distaste) have noticed blows his mind. Sehun prays they will someday, though, because he longs for the day he'll be able to walk to the restroom without needing to check behind him or open his locker without having to step aside to make way for the hundreds of love letters from complete strangers that'll come falling out, or when he'll be able to peacefully scroll through his Instagram or Facebook without feeling the need to untag himself from the handfuls of creepshots taken of him that day, whether it be in the changing rooms or at school (honestly, he deleted his Instagram for that very reason - the excessive amounts of fanpages became a little overwhelming after a while), and those are only a tiny portion of what he's forced to go through on a normal school day. All in all, he highly doubts it.

He never, ever expected that joining the football team would come with such mind-boggling consequences. Despite it going on for four years, he’ll probably always continue to be creeped out by random girls offering him their number as well as flowers, which he throws out the first chance he gets, and sometimes even bras; Sehun clearly remembers the time in 10th grade when a random girl in 6th grade had tossed her bra at him, which hit him square in the face. And people wonder why he avoids females at all costs. He never expected that signing up to play a sport that consisted of tackling people to the ground and running up and down a field with a ball concealed under your arm would result in being followed, ogled at (like a zoo animal, he shudders), stalked; both online and in real life, and in worst cases, even touched, something that never fails to freak him out whenever it happens. He constantly tries telling himself that they do it because they appreciate his talents, because really, even Sehun won’t deny that he’s pretty freaking good at the sport, but considering the fact that nearly every football related remark from girls so far has consisted of ual puns surrounding the sport, he highly, highly doubts he’ll be seeing a change anytime soon. Unfortunately.

On more than one occasion, his teammates (except for Chanyeol and Junmyeon, who also struggle, but not nearly as much as he does) have practically yelled at him in envy for being ungrateful and whatnot; that ‘they do it because they look up to you, moron’ (in all honesty, Sehun has no idea what following someone into the bathrooms every day or leaving intrusive letters in their locker has to do with appreciation, but he’d rather not question his teammate’s "intelligence"), and Sehun might have believed them if it weren’t for that one time he gave in and got together with some girl who claimed to ‘love everything about him’, only to find out that she’d mainly used him for status reasons - when questioned, she had merely shrugged and said something along the lines of ‘the idea of dating a football captain intrigues me’, and in a rather bored tone, if Sehun remembers correctly. He’d never been so quick to dump someone in his life, to say the least. The only good thing he got out of that experience was the realization that he most definitely, certainly, is not into girls. Sehun doesn’t know if it’s the side effects of being a talented football player (not to mention the captain) talking or something else, but in all honesty, he doesn’t understand what people find interesting or attractive about the female gender. Especially not the two to his left, who are practically beating him to death with their glassy, blue-eyed stares.

“Thank you,” Sehun says; it's practically a reflex at this point, before gingerly accepting the tissue, on which she has scribbled something he assumes is a series of numbers, and placing it on his tray. In his peripheral, he’s at least ninety percent sure he sees Jongin (and his friends) staring in his direction but he quickly dismisses it. He begs the high Heavens that Jongin doesn't see what's going on, and hopes that the students between their tables conceal him from the blond's view.  “Uh, is that it?”

The blonde shakes her head. She’s wearing so much eye makeup Sehun can barely see her irises. Not that he wants to, anyway. “I was wondering if you’d-”

-like to go out with me, Sehun doesn’t know how many times he hears that on the daily. If he had a dollar for every time, he’d own every bank on the planet. Zoning out, he blocks out her irritating sermon of ‘how much I love football players’ and ‘how attractive they are’, his gaze instinctively landing on Jongin and his friends; the blond seems to be playing a game on his phone and Sehun fights the urge to pull out his phone and text him and ask him about it but he quickly decides against it, given that he’s already familiar with the feeling of being stalked (and honestly, Sehun figures taking and sending Jongin a photo of him is enough for one day). Not to mention he’d be forced to give her his number, which she’s most likely asked for by now (not that he heard, but he assumes), and which he most certainly does not. Want. To. Do.

When he no longer hears her ear piercing voice, he looks up and manages one of his many ‘I’m-definitely-interested’ smiles. “Sorry, I left my phone in my locker, I can't check my schedule, but maybe next time.” He doesn’t know how many times he’s said that, either, but he’s honestly fresh out of options at this point. Not that he thinks they care, anyway; Sehun figures he could do something as simple as clear his throat and he’d have at least fifteen girls on their knees before him. The thought absolutely disgusts him.

She pouts in disappointment before shrugging. “Call me,” she says, way too loudly, before grabbing her friend’s arm and dragging her away, out the door. He thinks he hears them giggling and whispering to each other about something but he honestly doesn’t care. What he does see, however, is Jongin seemingly following the blonde girl with his eyes, rather attentively, as she exits the cafeteria with her friend. He runs a hand through his hair and forces himself to look away.

“You gonna call her?” Chanyeol asks, although he most definitely knows the answer.

Tearing his eyes off Jongin's table, Sehun only chuckles. Not wanting to shake his head, given that he can feel a handful of feminine gazes burning holes in his back, he opts to cover one side of his face while mouthing an exasperated ‘no way’. His gaze darts back to Jongin’s table, just in time to see the latter’s friend, the one with reddish hair, flick a spoonful of soup in the blond’s face and he fights the urge to laugh out loud.

As much as he’d rather not admit it, Jongin has captivated him since day one; the day he sent him the first message. Sehun doesn’t know why, but he figures it’s because the blond’s message is the only message so far in his inbox to say something along the lines of ‘hi’ and ‘how are you’ instead of the usual ‘ me’ and ‘you’re handsome, go out with me’.

Well, that and because the blond is both captivatingly and undeniably cute.

Watching as Jongin stands up and walks over to the counter, a part of Sehun sort of wishes the blond would notice him staring and wave, but he doesn’t, and he fights the urge to pout. He discreetly, and intently, inspects the way Jongin walks - he walks with a slight bounce in his step, nearly strutting, and all of a sudden Sehun is picturing the blond as the latter walks down the runway at a fashion show hosted by a famous fashion designer, like Marc Jacobs, who, coincidentally, happens to be Sehun’s favorite fashion designer. He rests his head on his hand, eyes trailing up and down the blond’s rather lean body; his legs, which he figures any fashion designer would go crazy for, his upper body, which he figures could land the blond a modelling career in a heartbeat and, most importantly, his face, which, honestly, he could stare at all day if it wasn’t considered creepy and intrusive. He watches, gaze rather distant as Jongin grabs a few (or to be exact, around fifteen, much to his confusion) tissues before heading back to his table. Staring even harder, Sehun’s eyebrows suddenly furrow because is that soup in his hair???????

Sehun vaguely remembers seeing Jongin’s face in the sports catalogue on his way to Homeroom on more than one occasion, but that was back then, back when Jongin was just another person; another face in the crowd - just another guy. Sehun thinks it’s rather amazing how the blond has gone from being just another guy to all he’s been thinking about in the span of one week, and he honestly doesn’t know how it makes him feel. He’s had a history of having to explain to potential partners that his status as a football player has got absolutely nothing (or very little, in that case) to do with his overall personality and so far, nobody has listened nor taken him seriously. He remembers how badly he wanted to quit football two years ago when he’d asked a girl out on a date, only for her whack him clear across the face before walking away while muttering something along the lines of ‘nice try, douchebag’. Or it was ‘ing jock’ or ‘stud’. Or 'womanizer', for that matter (which is what, in his opinion, tends to make him unapproachable to 90% of the female, and male, population; which he really, really does not understand considering the fact that it's the women who come up to him 100% of the time, and not the other way around, save for that one time. Point is, he absolutely despises the godawful stereotypes linked to his sport). Either way, Sehun can’t quite remember (honestly, he’s repressed more than 90% of it at this point), but the heartbreak he had to endure for a year or so afterwards is still fresh in his mind, and it’s a feeling he’ll never forget. And he truly, truly, for the life of him hopes that Kim Jongin will be different. On top of that, Sehun prays to God that Kim Jongin thinks he's different.

“Sehun!”

Sehun nearly jumps out of his skin and hisses when he bangs his already injured arm on the edge of the table. “What?”

“For the millionth in’ time, you coming to training this evening?” Chanyeol says, shoving his bowl aside with a grimace. “Coach is counting on you, you know,” he adds and raises an eyebrow when Sehun suddenly looks up and past his shoulder. “What do you keep gawking at?”

“You’ve been zoning out this entire time,” Junmyeon says, scrolling through his phone. “You need to focus or we’ll never win tomorrow.”

Sehun blinks. “Tomorrow?”

“The game, knucklehead,” Chanyeol groans. “It’s all Coach has been talking about for the past month, haven’t you been paying attention? We’re all counting on you tomorrow!”

Clearing his throat, Sehun fidgets with the tissue on his tray. He’d completely forgotten about the practice match tomorrow. “Uh, I can’t,” he starts and scratches the back of his head when Chanyeol shoots him a perplexed stare. “I can’t go.”

Junmyeon’s mouth falls open. “What?”

“Why the hell not?” Chanyeol adds, reaching across the table and placing a cold hand on Sehun’s forehead. “Are you sick?”

“Cut it out,” Sehun exclaims, slapping Chanyeol’s hand away, and rolling his eyes when he hears a handful of giggles all around him. Clearing his throat again, he plays with his food. “Sorry. I can’t.”

“You better have a good frickin’ reason as to why-”

“I’ve got a date,” Sehun blurts out and fights the urge to cover his mouth when he realizes he’d said that way too loudly. He can practically feel the rumors beginning to spawn and spread already. Hell, he figures before he even gets a chance to exit the lunch room, the entire school will have found out already. My 284,194th girlfriend this year. Great. Awesome. He nods a little and clears his throat when the silence grows awkward. “Yeah.”

Junmyeon blinks. “We’ve been training for this match for weeks.”

Sehun nods, pressing his lips together. “I know.”

“You’re throwing it away and leaving us out on the field for a date?” Chanyeol exclaims and Junmyeon and Sehun practically scramble to cover his mouth.

“Who is she?” Junmyeon asks after removing his hand from Chanyeol’s mouth. “I wanna see her, first,” he adds, snickering.

Sehun runs his tongue along his bottom lip, instantly regretting it when he hears a feminine squawk to his right, closely followed by a camera click. He’d be surprised if she hasn’t already uploaded the photos by now. “Why?”

“If she’s special enough to make you skip practice she must be hot as hell,” Junmyeon cackles and yelps when Chanyeol whacks him in the shoulder. “It’s true!”

Watching Jongin run a hand through his hair in his peripheral, Sehun shrugs. “It’s nothing special, I just-”

“Is she hot?” Chanyeol asks, a -eating grin on his face. Sehun fights the urge to slap it off.

Sehun stills for a second before grinning. “Yeah,” he says after a while. “Very.”

“Let me guess,” Junmyeon pries, lowering his voice. “Blonde, right?”

Biting his lip, seemingly deep in thought, Sehun thinks for a minute before nodding. “Well, not really, but yeah, you could say that.”

“I knew it,” Chanyeol snickers, gesturing at Sehun, “he’s a freak for ‘em blondies.” He cackles when Sehun squawks.

“Is she short? Lemme guess, 5’2? 5'3?” Junmyeon asks, leaning in, clearly interested. His eyebrows furrow when Sehun shakes his head. “Tall?” he blinks. “How tall?”

“Probably 6’2, an inch or so shorter than me,” Sehun says, trying not to smirk.

“What the type of girls are you into, man,” Chanyeol mumbles, scratching his head. “So, hot, blonde and tall? The , you dating Barbie?”

More like Ken, Sehun thinks to himself before shrugging. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Well what the are me and Yeol gonna do tomorrow, then? Coach’ll be expecting you, you know that!” Junmyeon exclaims, the usual frown returning to his face. “He’ll murder you and dump your body in the nearest river if he finds out you ditched the game for some bimbo!”

Sehun shrugs. “I’ll talk to the other school’s captain about it, maybe we can postpone it to next week,” he says and looks up, at Jongin.

“Yeah, good ing luck trying to notify them less than 24 hours before the match,” Chanyeol mumbles under his breath before standing up, careful not to bang his long limbs against the table. “We’re late, let’s go.”

Standing up, and avoiding the inevitable stares coming from all directions, Sehun grabs his tray and walks over to the garbage cans. While emptying his leftover soup (more like stew, he thinks to himself) into one of the cans, his lips curl slightly upwards when he spots a certain mop of white; nearly glowing hair in the corner of his eye. He chuckles slightly to himself because Chanyeol was indeed right, he really does look like Einstein’s lovechild. An adorable one, at that. Wiping his hands, he thinks he hears Jongin’s cat-looking friend exclaim something along the lines of ‘he likes it, shut up!’ but he quickly dismisses it as his mind playing tricks on him.

He doesn’t turn around and try to get Jongin’s attention in fear of every female in the room misinterpreting it as a gaze meant for them (not to mention he can tell the blond isn’t even looking in his direction, and he squashes the feeling of deflation that flares deep inside his gut), so he opts to place his empty bowl on the counter before shoving his hands in his pockets and jogging to keep up with Chanyeol and Junmyeon, who are already halfway down the hallway.

Walking towards the door, the urge to look at Jongin (an urge he’s been feeling a lot lately, and which has grown significantly stronger these past couple of days, he’ll admit) suddenly hits him and overwhelms him to the point that he can’t help but turn his face to the left. A warm feeling courses through his entire body when he sees Jongin slumped over in his chair with his head on the table. His fluffy, white (and slightly brown, as Sehun notices upon closer inspection) hair is practically glowing in the bright lights of the cafeteria, and Sehun thinks it closely resembles a halo. he chuckles. What a coincidence. Sehun watches in amusement, nailed to the floor, as the blond’s cat friend gently pokes him, only to get no reply.

Ignoring the handfuls of female gazes in his direction, he nearly laughs out loud when he sees the redhead mouth something along the lines of ‘he’s dead’ and fights the urge to shake his head in amusement. He’ll miss his next lesson, for Christ’s sake!

Sehun quickly turns on his heel and hurries towards the door in fear of being caught by either Catboy (he really isn’t sure what to call him besides that) or the redhead. Not to mention the staring (he seriously despises the female gender and their ability to uninterruptedly gawk at just about anything for ages) was starting to get on his nerves, anyway.

Once he’s outside and begins walking, Sehun tries to shove the image of Jongin’s sleeping form aside with no success. Man, is he adorable. He figures he can message Jongin about it later.

He’s so preoccupied with his inner thoughts that he promptly loses his balance and nearly crashes into the glass case in the hallway.

~~~