[ Wendy ]

I will make Irene say yes.

That has always been my tag line since the first year. I will make Irene say yes to be my tutor. I will make Irene say yes to be my friend. I will make Irene say yes to be my Science Homework partner since I fail in academics.

Yep, that’s pretty much it. I was successful about ten percent of the time. The other ninety percent? Pfft, don’t ask me. It was the part of her that wanted to strangle me to death.

“The answer was 9, you idiot! Don’t you ever learn anything from Math Class?” Irene was at it again, reading over my first-year mock math test material. Her nicknames for me are actually a lengthy list in the past five months we knew each other. Dumbo, kelp head, idiot, brainless kid, mindless moron, and etcetera. I don’t even know if I should be touched that she bothered searching for synonyms of an idiot for me or feel bad because she attempted to do so. But hey, with smarty girl Irene Bae, I bet she memorized the whole dictionary, anyway!

“Give me a break, Rene. The questions were in Hangul and I can’t even read Hangul well. And math in Korean? Trust me, I don’t even know how addition is said in Korean for the last five months!”

“That’s because you never dared to learn, butthead!” She smacked my head, telling me to read over the material once again.

“You’re so mean to me. Can’t you at least treat me with a little care?” I said dramatically.

She snorted.

“Nice try, small girl. Study.”

Yep. That’s how our relationship goes.

And so, two hours continued like it was nothing. Irene was always engrossed in her books. She pursed her lips, her eyes scanning the pages like a metal detector. And there I was, sometimes making paper origami, other times just blankly staring at her side profile. I was twelve years old and the most interesting thing my eyes have caught on was Irene. It’s like she’s a book herself and I was someone who only read her back cover along with her quotes that seem too poetic for me.

And Korean poems weren’t exactly comprehendible for me when I was twelve.

“Hey Irene, you never told me your real name.”

“Irene is my real name.” She answered, not bothering to lift her head to reply.

“I mean your Korean name. You have that, right?”

“I suppose…”

I pouted, tugging on her arm to get her attention. It took a minute before I could, though. Irene Bae is the symbol of obliviousness since the first year.

“What?” She asked in annoyance, while I just gave her my ear-to-ear grin that always irks her. (which is also my favorite hobby!)

“Your Korean name,” I asked again. “Mine’s Seungwan.”

“That’s a boy’s name.” She muttered dumbly. Hah. That’s the first time I called her that.

“Well, duh, Irene! Now?”

She sighed.

“Joohyun.”

My grin got wider if it was possible.

“Joohyun…? That’s a pleasant name!”

Irene gave me a look and for a moment, I thought she’ll lunge forward and judo-flip me. Instead, she looked away. Her cheeks got a bright shade of pink and only then I realized.

She’s blushing.

[ Irene ]

Wendy wasn’t stupid. I know that.

Every time we stay back in the library until late in the afternoon, I could see how she indeed tries to