Three Years Ago   Damn those girls and their legs of steel. When they kicked me on my shin, I didn’t think it would leave a purplish mark after a week. I was forced to cover my wound using knee length socks. It looked like a fashion disaster with my uniform. Why couldn’t Korea allow freedom of fashion? Now I had no choice but to roll up the upper part of my skirt, creating more distance where my skirt ended and my socks began.   Of course, such fashion statements were misunderstood by narrow minded people, a.k.a. my schoolmates.   “,” a girl called out to me as I walked up the stairs. Boys were crowding around me, trying to get a peek under my skirt. I had prepared for such a possibility and wore tight black shorts underneath.   “I thought a was defined as a woman who has many ual partners. Unlike you, I am still a ,” I announced coolly. I took pride in being different. I was waiting for the right person instead of letting boys in and out of me like their weekly visits to a barbershop.   “W-what? I am not a ,” the girl stammered.   I observed her constantly glancing to a certain direction, seeking approval from someone else. Ah, it was a guy. Perhaps her boyfriend. Perhaps her crush. This could be fun.   “So why did you show me your collection of used condoms yesterday asking me to keep my mouth shut in front of him?” I asked, cocking my head towards the guy she kept glancing at.   The confidence on her face shattered immediately and she grew red with embarrassment and fury. She looked like a tomato about to explode and immediately chased after the said guy. I laughed at her pathetic attempt as I continued my way down the hallway.   Myungsoo was waiting in front of the classroom, posing against the wall. He decided not to join the commotion, but approached me as soon as he spotted me. His eyes went to my skirt, and I saw a flicker of disagreement.   “Why is your skirt so low?” He asked.   “So it would match my socks,” I simply answered, tapping my foot forward to show off my black colored Hello Kitty socks.   “Why are your socks so high?”   I hesitated a little, but Myungsoo had a welcoming aura. I knew he would accept me despite my flaws. With him I could be honest.   “To cover my wounds,” I replied.   Myungsoo sighed, taking off the blazer from his body. He did not ask me additional questions, knowing what had happened the week prior. “Is it normal to wear a skirt this short in the US?”   “A girl once wore a black bra with a vulgar fishnet sweater to class.”   Myungsoo chuckled at that image. I noticed the dimples appearing on the corner of his lips when he smiled. He wrapped his arm around me, setting my heart on a rampage. I thought he offered me a comforting hug, but realized he was tying his blazer around my waist to hide my skin from being exposed too much.   “This isn’t San Francisco, Krystal. I hope I am not ruining your fashion statement, but girls should dress modestly,” he said, melting me with his gentleman mannerism.   I looked at myself. It was utterly ridiculous, but I couldn’t help but laugh. “You can call me Soojung.”   “I told you I like Krystal,” he pleaded like a puppy.   “I insist on Soojung.”   “Let me practice my English.”   “No.”   “Fine, Krystal.”   I laughed harder than I should at that, as did Myungsoo. Whatever names and insults people called me afterwards did not matter to me. Myungsoo called me by name.   Oh, and the girl who called me a ? She got dumped by her boyfriend.   ***   Present   In my pursuit to befriend Bae Suzy, I made an effort to come to her classroom every breaktime, inviting her to eat lunch with me. The others stared at me wide eyed, a mixture of confusion and admiration piling within.   Suzy was in front of the classroom, dusting the board again. Did she have a weird chalk or something? I wished she could wipe that dumb look from her face as well, cause it annoyed me like hell.   “I haven’t finished my class duty.” She looked at me like a lifeless person, and blindly moved her hand to erase the writings on the board.   “I’m sure someone else is willing to help you out.” I yanked the duster from both her hands, and neatly placed it on the nearest table at the front. “Right?”   All I had to do was bat my eyelashes, offer a smile, and press my arms together to show more volume to my s, and the guy at the table said an immediate yes. Pathetic ert.   “Come on now.” I took Suzy’s hand, leading her outside. It was always nicer outside because of the seclusion and privacy—it was easier to corrupt Bae Suzy.   We sat at the staircase leading to the back entrance of the main building. No one ever came there because the door was always locked. I had to set my plan into motion and be extra friendly.   “What did you bring for lunch? Oh, a bento box! How cute,” I said, looking at the lunchbox she took out. My voice hurt from squealing in such a girly way. And who was I kidding? Her lunchbox looked like a kitchen disaster. Plus, it reeked like a possum had died.   “I made it myself, though I am not a very good cook. My