Chapter 5

We finally made it to the classroom where we had our first period history class. When I had planned out my schedule for this year, AP World History had seemed like a good idea. It would look good on my transcript for college admissions, and I could transfer in a few credits if I did well on the AP exam. Fast forward a year and I had my college acceptance letter in my room at home, and thoughts of taking the AP exam in a few weeks had me wanting to curl up in my bed and sleep until next fall. But my parents had already paid for the exam, so I was taking it. It didn’t seem right to waste their money.

For the past four years, adults had been putting so much pressure on me to get good grades, and pick up extra activities, and to be the best student possible for college admissions. Well, now I was in college, or as close as I could be while still actually attending high school, so why should I make myself crazy trying to get good grades in classes I had only taken to get into college? My love of learning wasn’t that strong.

But now that I was walking to my seat with Jennie Kim right behind me, after solidifying plans for our study session later that day, I was glad I had not totally written off my classes. Besides, I did still have to pass in order to graduate. At least in history I felt confident that I knew what I was doing. For the most part. The rest of my life? Maybe not so much. That felt especially true now that I was out.

I tried to pay extra attention to class as it started, but it was so hard with everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. When I should have been taking notes on industrialization, I was instead reliving the conversation Jennie Kim and I had in my car. As the teacher pointed to some maps, my brain went to Jennie Kim’s arm holding me tight as she tried to help me after I got hit by the door. By the end of class, I had barely half a page of notes, but I had analyzed every point where Jennie Kim and I had touched that morning. If I didn’t get my act together, this study session was going to be a huge failure.

When I was leaving class, I briefly looked around, hoping to get a quick look at my crush. I found her and, even after all that had happened recently, was still surprised that she gave me a wave when we made eye contact. Before I could wave back, her attention was diverted to someone else calling her name. Somi, who was also in our class and on the cheer squad, must have had something to tell her. I guess Somi wasn’t doing well in the class if Jennie Kim had asked me, instead of one of her friends, for help.

I walked into the hallway and was immediately pulled by the arm away from the classroom. I saw the back of Chaeng’s head as she dragged me past students at their lockers, talking in little groups before the next class started. I caught a glimpse of Sorn walking in the opposite direction, but she didn’t seem to see us. Or she pretended not to know who we were. Sometimes it was hard to tell which was which with my sister.

Chaeng led me to the back area of the school. She found a classroom unlocked and basically threw me inside before entering and slamming the door behind us. I didn’t know how she had gotten us this far from the center of the school building so fast. I would have to run to get to my next class on time.

Chaeng let out a loud squeal. “Tell me everything!” she practically shouted. It was a small room, and her voice echoed against the walls. I didn’t even try to hide my flinch.

“Calm down,” I said. “What are you talking about?” I feigned ignorance because I had been dreading this conversation ever since I’d seen Chaeng in the parking lot that morning. I was a little surprised that she had cornered me so soon and so easily. I’d thought I would get some increasingly desperate texts before she decided to talk to me in person.

With that thought, I took my phone out of my pocket and pressed the home button. I had some texts. After opening my text app, I saw Princess Bananahammock had sent me twenty-two messages. I didn’t have to open them to know they’d be increasingly desperate.

Chaeng put her hand over my phone and pushed it to the side. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Lisa,” she said with vehemence. “I saw you and Jennie get out of your car, together, and walk to the building, together, and I saw her jump to help you when that kid slammed the door in your face. It was so romantic,” she gushed, her hands balling into fists in front of her in excitement.

“You saw that?” I asked. How many other people had seen me almost take a header into the concrete? “I’m doing fine, by the way, thanks for asking,” I said sarcastically. So much for years of best friendship. She was more worried about my nonexistent love life than a possibly serious head injury.

“You’re fine,” she said as she waved away my concern. “That door hardly got you. And don’t change the subject. What were you and Jennie doing in your car, alone, before school?” she said with raised eyebrows. I turned red, which I hoped didn’t make her think her assumptions were correct. Just the implication of me involved in anything romantic had me burning in embarrassment.

“Geez, nothing,” I said. “She was just giving me back my history notes. And we set up a study session for tonight. I think she’s having trouble with history,” I added.

I realized too late that had been the wrong thing to say. “Study session?!” she yelled out. Once again, my ears were ringing. “That’s almost a date. You are going on a date with Jennie Kim, the girl you want to smush faces with. I’m so happy for you!” She grabbed me in a hug, her voice almost catching with emotion. I appreciated her enthusiasm on my behalf, but I had to set the record straight. I disentangled her arms from around me and took a step away from her. “There is no date. Just a study session. We are going to go over some of the notes and review some of the points that will be on the next exam. That’s it. She’ll probably be at my house for less than an hour.”

Chaeng’s widened eyes told me I had said too much again. “Your house?” she said. “She’s going to your house? Not the library? This is fantastic. It will be so much easier to seduce her if you’re in your room.”

“What? No!” I exclaimed. “There will be no seducing going on. None. Zero. Never.”

"Well, maybe not seducing, but how about some heavy flirting?" she said, walking back her previously ridiculous statement. It was good to know she hadn't lost her mind completely.

“And what in the world is 'heavy flirting’?”

formed a big smile. "I'm glad you asked. Now, I'm not an expert, but heavy flirting is basically regular flirting, but you're way less subtle. You know, light touching, making googly eyes, laughing at all her jokes, that kind of stuff," she said. I was horrified.

"So you mean I should basically ually harass her," I said. Did Chaeng actually believe what she was telling me? I was likely to go to jail if I followed her advice. Last thing I needed was Jennie Kim thinking I was a creeper.

Chaeng rolled her eyes. “No. You always jump to negative stuff. I mean try and touch her shoulder when you want to get her attention. Not her up. Or gently rest your hand on her forearm when you want to emphasize a point. And lean into her personal space. Those things show interest on your part. For googly eyes, just look at her like you do when you’re thinking about her. I’ve seen that look on your face before. It usually happens when someone mentions her name. I call it your ‘Look of Love.’” She then made a dopey face that I was 100 percent sure I had never made before in my life. I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Now you’re just lying. That look has never been anywhere near this,” I said, gesturing to my own face. She huffed as if I had just insulted her, which I guess I had.

“I do not lie. You know honesty is one of my defining characteristics. Me and George Washington: non-liars.”

That was true. Chaeng did not lie, not even to save someone’s feelings. I would know; I’d been on the sharp end of her truth-telling more than once. Chaeng was, however, very well versed in the art of silence. She most likely had that up on old George.

She continued speaking. “Back to heavy flirting—which, from the way I described it, sounds more like regular flirting, or really just li