I walk into school this morning, and there he is, walking ahead of me, light hair fluttering in the wind.

I hitch my backpack a little higher, and wonder, for a second, whether I should run up to him. I could say, hey, Jaemin, wait up, I'm your fake girlfriend, we kissed, so, yeah, how 'bout we walk to school together from now on? That sounds pretty desperate, I know, but I've got a plan to work on here, and that's to get him for fall for me by...hm, Valentine's Day? That's about four weeks from now. I chew my lips, and that's when this girl comes running up to him. 

She's bouncing up and down as if she's on helium, and I can hear her saying, "Na Jaemin, I've got something for you..."

And she pulls out her hands from behind her back, and there's a huge pink envelope. She bows, and gives it to him, saying, "Please accept my confession."

He glances at the envelope, and then he's walking on, as if the girl's invisible, and the poor girl's bounce just dies, it shrivels up before my eyes, and she's standing, the pink envelope in her limp hand, standing there, frozen, her face red, and staring after him. A whole bunch of people have gathered, and are giggling, and whispering. The girl starts, comes back to life, like the creepy mummy girl in that old Mummy show that I watched last night on TV, runs after him, and blocks his path.

She shoves the pink envelope higher this time, right in his face.

She must have pretended that he hadn't seen her.

Love is remarkably resilient in the face of obstacles, even an obstacle such as the stone-faced, chilling and legendary Icy Prince, Nam Jaemin, who, by the way, also happens to be my fake boyfriend.

She's looking up longingly into his face.

Oh God. 

I want to dig a hole right here, right now under the stony drive, push her in, and jump in after her.

Stop. Don't demean yourself anymore. He's ignoring you. Have some pride.

But she's saying, in a childish, high-pitched voice, "I like you, Nam Jaemin. I've liked you for three years. Please give me a chance."

He takes the envelope from her, finally. She breaks into a smile.

He rips the envelope in half, a crackling, sharp sound, deafening in the sudden stillness and the heavy, watchful silence. He hands the two halves back to her.

"Who are you?" His voice is icy, like snowy frost on a cold winter's night. "I don't know you."

The girl stands, stunned.

He turns slighly, a flicker of annoyance in his eyes, and our eyes meet.

He points to me.

"That," he says coolly,  "is my girl over there." 

He walks toward me, reaches out for my limp hand, and pulls me with him to where the girl's standing, her face crumpled, broken, on the verge of tears.

"Let me introduce my girlfriend." He puts his arm around my stiff shoulder. "This here is Kim Mina. We're dating."

He walks me off, the crowd falling back behind us.

"You hurt her," I say. "You - you could have been kinder."

"I find it annoying to have some strange girl whom I don't know come up to me, and confess to me first thingthing in the morning." He looks bored. "It all boils down to selfishness."

"Huh?"

"Yeah, she was thinking of herself, and everything was about her. I like you. I like you so much. I've liked you for so long...it's always the same old, same old words, and it's..." He yawns. "...annoying."

"You're weird, and twisted," I mutter belligerently. "What else could she say, but I like you? She's confessing to you, for crying out loud. She must have mustered up all her courage to confess to you." I glare at him. "You're a mean, cold jerk, you know that?"

I don't know why I'm so mad with him. Maybe it's because she said all the things stuck inside my heart, like coke, bottled up in a can, all precious and secret and squeezed inside, and you shake and shake the can, over and over, and then you prise open the lid, and WHOOSH! Everything comes gushing out, the whole rippling, frothy bubbly just explodes, flowing over, spilling down the sides, bursting out like a quivering fluid fountain...

"Got out of the wrong side of the bed this morning, did we?" He narrows his eyes at me, and there's that crooked, sardonic smile on his lips again. "I thought we had an - understanding." His voice is silky, smooth, dangerous. "Why, we even kissed."

"Shhh," I whisper furiously. "Do you want the whole school to hear?"

People are staring at us. Some of the girls are looking daggers at me.

"Well, here you are. Your classroom," he says, "I'll see you later." He saunters off.

The morning passes in a blur, and it's time for a break. I tell Junnie to go ahead without me, I've packed my own bento from home. I walk to the loo, because I've been holding it in for two hours, Miss Lee is a witch, and a ***** ( the other word that rhymes with "witch"), and to dare to leave her class in the midst of her teaching is akin to a sinner in Hell sashaying up to the Devil, and saying, "Hey, mind if I hop over to Heaven for a bit? It's kind of fiery in here, and dude, I need a change, all that screaming and whipping's getting on my nerves. I'll be right back..." and the next thing you know, you're tied to a stake of thorns, and there's a merry old bonfire beneath your bum, and WHOOSH !!!! You're turning into fifty shades of grey, ashy, powdery dust...Okay, I have a vivid imagination, I know, my mum says I read way too many books, but it's my imagination that makes me see a silver lining in grey clouds, and it's my imagination that's helped me get through two solid, nerve-wracking hours of Chemistry with Miss Lee. 

I do my thing, and wash my hands, and when I come out of the loo, he's standing there, leaning against the half-ajar door, staring at me.

I freeze.

It's Han Ji sook.

My stalker.

He's a huge boy, big, towering at 180 cm, with muscular arms and a beefy face.

My heart plummets.

I am terrified of him.

He's got a fixation on me. He's been kind of stalking me since I was 15. It started last year at the Annual Sports Day, when I was sitting down on a bench, waiting for Junnie to complete her 100 m race, and he sat down next to me. He seemed nice and friendly, and offered me a cold canned drink, which I took  because it was a hot day, and I was feeling thirsty. 

It started from there.

He began appearing in front of my classroom, after school, and sometimes, in the afternoons, when we had to stay back for clubs and societies, or extra classes. He's two years older than me, and in another different class from Jaemin - Jaemin's in the best class, because he's so smart and always tops the whole form, while Ji sook's in the weakest class. What he doesn't have in brains he makes up for in brawn. I didn't see him yesterday, or the day before, he must have been absent, I guess. But today, he's back, and at the sight of him, lounging against the half-ajar door, my skin starts to crawl, and my heart starts to pound.

He's never touched me, he kind of follows me around, hovering near me, a disturbing, scary presence that makes me cold each time I turn, and see those beady eyes fixed on me. He just - stares...even when he offered me that drink a year ago, when this first started, he never talked to me then, either. But he's been there, throughout the whole of last year, and the beginning of this year.

The thing is, he's grown bolder...he's been encroaching upon my personal space these past few weeks; before, he'd be there, a presence away in the background, staring at me, following me with those odd, unblinking eyes, without moving an inch toward me. But lately...lately he's been coming nearer and nearer to me, and I can see him now, near me, five steps, maybe six, in front of me  I can see him breathing, see that thick, massive chest rise and fall, as if he's excited, looking at me, the thick moist tongue, like a snake's, , wet, dripping with drool, darting out like a reptile's slimy tongue, flicking against those thick, bulbous lips, the beady eyes staring, always staring at me...

I freeze.

He''s staring at me, and his lips are drawn back into a ghastly smile, like in a horror flick I once saw about a masked intruder, which is more, so much more terrifying than any of those stares he's levelled at me so far.

His eyes blink at me above the gargoyle smile.

"Hey," he says, softly.

He lurches forward and blocks my path.

Oh God.

I'm so afraid.

There's no one here. I'm at the other loo which is further away, and takes quite a distance to walk to. If I were going to eat at the cafetaria, I'd have used the loo next to it - that's where all the girls go.

"What do you want?" I say, my voice tight, strangled with this creeping fear.

"I just want to - talk to you..." He does his tongue thing, and I feel sick, as I see the big, red thing do its , darting little motion, leaving a blob of drool on his lower lip. It trails down his chin, and he kind of smacks his lips against his teeth, making a wet slurping sound, as if he's got so much drool in that big mouth of his, and his teeth and gums and tongue are drowning in it.

I push past him.

He grabs me by my arm.

"Let go," I grit. "Or I'll screafm."

"I've been hearing things about you." He presses my arm, his thick swollen fingers tightening around it in an iron grip. "You," he his lips, and lowers his voice to a whisper, "have been a naughty, naughty girl..."

I try to pull my arm from his grasp, but he's using his other arm to pull me against his chest.

He smells of sweat and drool and there's a sick kind of excitement in those beady eyes leering so close to my face. I gag, and struggle in vain.

I scream with all my might, but he clamps a thick beefy hand over my mouth. 

"You ," he says softly, that growing excitement in his eyes making me shake in fear. "You little ...I'm away for two days, and I come back to school, and what do I hear?" He's digging his fingernails painfully into my arms. "You've become Nam Jaemin's ..."

"I thought you were sweet and innocent..." He closes his eyes, and takes a deep whiff. "You've got his scent on you, you little , you little ..."

He pulls my hair, and jerks it back, still with that coarse, monstrous hand clamped over me, suffocating me, choking me.

I'm so dizzy I can't breathe. 

I hear his voice coming from a long distance.

"I'm going to teach you a lesson, you little , you dirty ...open your eyes and look at me." He is shaking me hard like a rag doll. I lie limp in his grasp.

"Open your eyes, you ."

My head lolls to one side.

I am so tired, so terribly tired...

He slaps me hard across my right cheek. I reel against the slap.

The next instant, I'm free.

Someone's pulled me from him.

I crumple to the floor, shaking.

My right cheek is throbbing.

A cool gentle hand my bruised cheek for a fleeting moment. I strain my face into it, seeking comfort from its kindness and tenderness.

I can breathe again.

I open my eyes slowly.

Ji sook is on the floor, holding his head in his hands, and groaning, and Jaemin is standing over him, like an avenging angel.

"You crazy bastard, you broke my skull...oh God, it hurts so bad, you broke my skull, you head, you jerk...ahhh..."

Jaemin steps forward toward Ji sook. It is only then that I see the plank of wood in Jaemin's right hand, hanging at his side. He hurls it away, and advances toward Ji sook.

"You crazy guy, you get away from me...stay away..." Ji sook cowers before Jaemin.

"You...touched my girl." Jaemin says, and the quiet menace in it chills me. He stoops, and crouches before Ji sook, and says, in a pleasant tone, "Now, which hand was it?" 

He stares at Ji sook's hands, his eyes shifting from the left to the right.

"You had your left hand over ," Jaemin continues, still in that calm, quiet voice, "and that means, it was this hand..." He touches Ji sook's right hand. "It was this hand that touched her face...."

The next second, I hear a dull crunching sound, and Ji sook screams out in pain.

"You bastard, you crazy head, you broke my finger...oh , you broke my finger, oh God..."

"Stay away from my girl, you garbage, you scum," Jaemin rises to his feet, and looks down at the sobbing boy. "I'll break all your fingers if you come near her again, every single one of them, and after that, I'll break all your toes, every single one of them, ...and after that, I'll kill you..." He aims a final vicious kick at the Ji sook's leg, and the boy doubles over in pain.

"Enough," he screams. "Enough, I won't go near her anymore...just get away from me, you psychopath, you lunatic..."

Jaemin helps me to my feet. I stumble away, his arms wrapped solidly around me.

He makes me sit on a bench in a secluded corner of the school grounds.

"Wait here," he says. "I'll be right back."

He's back in a jiffy, and sits down next to me on the bench. He wipes my swollen cheek with a damp hand towel.

I recoil from his touch, gentle though it is.

"Don't worry, It's clean," he says. "I brought it for gym later, I haven't used it yet." He smiles faintly. "It's swelling up. C'mon, I'll take you home. Let's go tell your class teacher."

The teacher is shocked to see my face. I lie to her that I walked into a door.

"We live next door to each other," Jaemin says. "I'll bring her home, and call her parents." 

"Of course," Mrs. Kang says, looking concerned. "Mina, see a doctor if it's very bad."

We walk home, my backpack slung over his shoulders.

"So you'll be heading back to school after this?" 

"Yeah...does it hurt?" His eyes are resting on my swollen cheek.

"It's throbbing a little, but it doesn't hurt as much as before."

"Your hands..." I say in shock. "Are those cuts?"

"Oh," he stares at them in surprise. "I hadn't realised that. I guess I gripped the plank too tight."

"You broke his finger," I say.

"I guess..." He shrugs.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you break his finger?"

"Because he touched you..."

We've reached my gate. He looks at me, and reaches out a hand. He touches my cheek gently, tenderly.

"No one touches my girl..."

"I'm not your girl..."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not. I'm your fake girlfriend, remember?"

"You're my fake girlfriend," he smiles faintly, and says softly. "But you're still mine, aren't you? You're no one else's fake girlfriend, but mine."

He places both of his hands on my shoulders.

"You got hurt today because of me. I didn't take care of you, protect you..." He draws me toward him, so that my head is resting beneath his chin. He my head gently. "I'm sorry...that I didn't protect you. It won't happen again, that's a promise..."

He cups my face between his hands.

He brushes his lips against my forehead gently.

I close my eyes, and breathe him in.

"You must have been scared." He looks at me, tracing my battered cheek slowly with whispery fingers.

I nod, and tears well up in my eyes.

"He said vile things, horrible things..." I whisper, and taste the salt of my tears on my lips. "He said - he said I was a , a ..." I clutch at him, and he tightens his arms around me. "No one's ever said that to me before, no one's..." I swallow, "...ever hurt me like that before..."

"I'll make you forget what he did," he says, his voice firm and steady. "I'll build a new memory for you, so you'll forget the bad memory, and remember only the new...I promise you..."

The next morning, I walk out of my gate, and he's waiting for me.

"From today onwards, I'm walking with you to school, and back home from school."

"Okay," I say.

He stretches out his palm, and I put my hand in his. We walk together side by side, hand in hand, all the way to school.

We walk into school, and he stops, and turns to me.

"Come with me somewhere, I need to show you something."

He holds my hand and leads me to the loo, the same spot, as deserted as it had been the day before, where Ji sook had called me a , a dirty , and slapped me hard across the face.

He puts his hands on my shoulders and gently presses me against the half-ajar door. He tilts my face up, his cool fingers under my chin.

He kisses me, and my lips part beneath his, blossoming like a flower. Our lips cling, and our breaths mingle. 

Oh, I love you, Jaemin...I love you so much....

I am melting, my heart is racing; beneath my fingers, I can feel his heart racing too, and there is a low drumming in my ears, like the delicate fluttering of a butterfly's wings.

"I'm making a new memory for you now, from this moment, " he murmurs against my lips. "Erase that bad memory..." He brushes his warm, moist lips against my bruised cheek. "From this moment on, you will build a new memory with me...when you set eyes on this place, when you come to this place, it's me that you'll think of, only me, and you'll remember that we kissed once, twice, on a cold, windy morning, you and me..."

"Will you promise to make a new memory with me, and erase the bad one?"

I nod.

"I promise."

"But..." I say, looking up into his face.

"What is it?" He asks, a question in his eyes.

"You've only kissed me once, not twice..."

He laughs, and catches me to him.

"I'll kiss you twice then...so you'll never, ever forget..."

And he kisses me again, harder this time, more demanding, and I kiss him back, and everything starts to spin wildly, crazily, and the whole world stills for a moment, and then fades away...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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