iii. “There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.”

—I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

____

It’s strange to learn about Kim Jongdae piece by piece, and it also feels as if the more I know, the more there is to him, the less I know.

He’s more than an attractive face in the hallway, more than just the name that always occupies first place when results come out, more than the star of the basketball team.

But even now, I can’t place a finger on what the more is. But that’s okay, because as I do get to know him piece by piece, I don’t think that three, or four or ten things can define him.

***

Monday rolls around again, and when I drag myself into the classroom, tired despite it being my second block already, I’m barely on time. I stumble into my seat next to Sohee, who looks like she hasn’t had proper sleep in months, and to my surprise, it isn’t Chanyeol who’s usually in front of me but Jongdae.

He turns around and gives me a smile. “I printed out the proposal,” he says. “I talked to my friends too, and I don’t actually think a lot of people are done or have written something that Ms. Lim would approve of. When do you want to present if we have the chance to choose first?”

“Last,” I immediately say, then snap my mouth shut before amending, “I mean, if you’re fine with that? I don’t really like going first, and that also gives us more time to work on it.”

He nods, almost without a second thought. “That should work,” he replies. “We can polish it more if we have more time.”

Class starts just like that, and Jongdae returns to his seat. Sohee leans over, asking me if I’ve finished my proposal, then laments about her useless partner before she’s caught by Ms. Lim and told to be quiet. There’s twenty minutes left when she wraps up the lesson, then raps her ruler on the desk. “I hope you’ve all all finished your proposals,” she says. “If you do, line up in front of my desk. If yours is approved, then you can choose the date of the presentation. Dismissed.”

The class dissolves into chaos and scrambling. Two people from the back rush forward, obviously fighting to get into line first, and Jongdae peers over at me. He mouths now? and I nod get up from the desk.

We end up being the third in line, right after his tall friend, Chanyeol. Jongdae’s holding the sheet as we wait. “If last is chosen, what do we go for?”

“Second last?”

The faintest hint of a grin appears on his face. “Okay.”

The first pair are sent back by Ms. Lim, their proposal haven been deemed not up to standard, and then Chanyeol and his partner go. The teacher discusses with them for a couple of minutes before they mark a date on her calendar, and then it’s our turn.

She smiles at Jongdae (I don’t get the same look in return) and he hands her the sheet. We wait, and I feel more and more out of place by the moment—after all, Jongdae’s the one who typed up most of the proposal—before Lim finally looks up from the sheet. “Who’s idea was this?” she asks.

I blink. That’s either a good thing or bad, and I have no idea. My first response is to think Jongdae—but before I can say or do anything, he gestures at me. “Anna did,” he replies. “She has an English copy of the book, so we’re going to a compare and contrast thing between the original and the translation.”

Ms. Lim looks at me like she’s seeing me in a new light. “That’s brilliant,” she says, and I do a double take. “That’ll be a really interesting presentation to hear. Which date would do you want?”

Jongdae gives me a quick thumbs up behind his back. “Can we take the last slot?” he asks.

She nods. “Good job,” she says again, and then dismisses us.

At that moment, the bell chimes again. Jongdae reaches his desk first. “Good job,” he says. “Actually, I…”

Baekhyun taps him on the shoulder. “You coming?”

He blinks at his friend. “Okay,” he replies, then turns to look at me over his shoulder. “I don’t know if I can make it this Sunday, but can we organize another time? I’ll text you.”

I don’t even know if he’s heard my agreement before he’s being rushed out of the room by his friends, and I think that he’s surprisingly quiet in such a loud group of friends and that it doesn’t feel exactly right before he’s gone again.

***

Jongdae doesn’t text me for a day. Then two. Then on Thursday, during English, he moves back a desk again. “Anna,” he calls. “Do you think we can meet after school today? After practice?”

I frown, trying to picture my schedule. “I don’t think I have anything to do, so probably?”

He nods. “Our coach isn’t there today,” he says. “There’s a game coming up so we still have to practice, but if you wait in the bleachers or something, you probably won’t be dragged to study hall because there won’t be any supervision, and I end at four, so it should work out. Then we can go somewhere to work.” Jongdae pauses. “Or if you’d like, I’ll meet you somewhere else after practice?”

Work. I haven’t even touched the English PDF yet, but he doesn’t have to know that. “I’ll wait in the gymnasium, then,” I reply. “That should be fine.”

He nods, and returns to his own seat. And I turn back to the board too, though for some reason, part of me notes that he looks awfully tired again, and for an even stranger, undefinable reason, I think about that for the rest of the class.

***

Of course, it shouldn’t be anything big. What high school student hasn’t had the odd (or for some, not even odd) days where they’ve had too much work to sleep, much less the top student of the school? From the amount of things Jongdae is involved with to his grades, I’m surprised he gets any rest at all, so I shouldn’t be thinking so much over the too-prominent circles of dark grey under his eyes.

But I am. Because as much as it shouldn’t be unusual, it’s not a usual for Jongdae either. I wonder what has happened, why he looks so exhausted, but how he’s still smiling despite all of that. He always smiles; that should be something I know by now, but I can’t quite connect the pieces together.

He’s off with his friends again when class ends. I catch another glimpse of him, in the middle of the group, seemingly the center of attention, yet exhausted nonetheless.

***

I head to the gym at 3:55, given that Jongdae had set the time for four.

It’s not someplace I’ve visited much. In fact, there are many facilities the school offers that I haven’t paid attention too and fewer that I have actually used. I know why, of course, and I know the reason is stupid. And I know I’m too old to be petty and angry for so long to the point where it’s not harming the person I’m angry at but myself, but I still do it nonetheless. It’s been two years already; why not let it go fully to the third, and then I can finally go back to the home I’m used to and a place that I actually want to be?

The thought still irritates me, but I brush it off when I enter the gym. Even before I go through the double doors, I can hear the sound of basketballs on the court, a surprisingly rhythm pattern from the dribbling before it’s interrupted. I push open the door, stepping into a much warmer room, where a narrow passage leads directly to a row of bleachers, and then the courts.

No one seems to notice me coming in until I open the door to the first row of the bleachers and it slams shut behind me. The gym is spacious enough for the sound to echo, and as if on cue, everyone stops what they’re doing and turns towards me.

I freeze, stopping my search for Jongdae in the middle of them. He’s near the back, holding one of the two basketballs they’re doing drills with, and watching me like the rest of my team.

I set my backpack down on one of the seats with a loud thunk. Beside me, there are their bags too, littered all over the empty bleachers, and I shift uncomfortably.

“I’m… waiting for Jongdae,” I say, pointing lamely at the said boy. “We’re working on a project. Resume?”

The tall one, which I recognize as Chanyeol, turns to his friend. “Damn, this is the first time I’ve seen you invite a girl to practice. Are you showing off now?”

Jongdae smiles slightly. “Even if I were, you’re blocking me. I’m going to leave early today. I had to cancel working with Anna on Sunday for the project because we had a game, so I scheduled it for today. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

There’s a chorus of goodbyes before Jongdae passes the ball to someone else and heads over to the bleachers to where I am waiting.

His hair is sticking to his face, and he reaches up to wipe sweaty bangs from his eyes. I take the moment to realize that he has really nice