They went over the entire homework with the teacher before handing the papers over. Namjoo didn’t do so hot on her paper now with his name on it. He wondered if they’d get in trouble once the math teacher went over their papers.

He first left his desk when they were let out for lunch to find Namjoo still seated. Yesterday Namjoo had missed out. She most likely wouldn’t know where the cafeteria was located.

“Lets go eat.” He said.

 “What about gym?” Namjoo looked around.

“After lunch.”

“I thought we had it at this time.” Namjoo stood.

“Today it’s switched to after lunch.” He explained. “Didn’t you hear the homeroom teacher?”

“I might have missed that part,” Namjoo foolishly grinned.

“You need help?” he wondered.

“Uh…well, I should be fine.” She said hobbling forward.

“Your paper was really bad.” He quietly said on their way out.

“Yours was worse,” Namjoo interjected. Then worried, “Will we get in trouble? Our answers were kind of similar.”

“If all answers are supposed to be the same then everyone would be in trouble,” Jongin pointed out.

“But our equations were really wrong.” Namjoo reminded.

“I bet Jonghun did just as bad,” Jongin ensured.

Grabbing the stair railing Namjoo hopped her way down. He remained careful to keep pace with her. Entering the cafeteria, he grabbed a tray and handed it to her. Namjoo stumbled behind him. Shuffling at a slow gait. He thought, in case she fell, she could fall into him.

“You’re so slow!” Jonghun called out when they found him seated four rows down. His leg stuck out into the center aisle as if aiming to trip some unfortunate student. His mouth was already stuffed. His tray a quarter of the way empty. “Oh, by the way, the class president said the teacher wants to see you.”

“Me?” Jongin asked after sliding down beside Namjoo.

“No.” Jonghun shook his head. “You.”

“Me?” Wide-eyed Namjoo pointed to herself.

Jongin glanced at her beside him. Curious why she’d be called to the teacher’s office and what for?

He escorted her to the teachers’ office after lunch. Jongin peeked through the rectangular window at the top of the door. Several teachers were glued behind their connected desks preparing lessons for their next classes. The math teacher was at her desk and immediately swiveled around in her chair when Namjoo approached. She stood rim rod straight with her hands clutched in front of her nervously.

He hurriedly shuffled backwards when the door slid open and the elder history teacher for the upperclassmen caught him. “What are you doing here?” he asked. “Class is starting.”

“I…was on my way.” Dodging the speculative teacher Jongin brushed past, scurrying down the hall.

⸛⸛⸛⸛⸛

It turned out Namjoo wasn’t the only one who’d done terribly. Several other students were held behind after classes ended for the day. All of them kept back by the math teacher to go over equations and functions with them. Midterms were not far away, the teacher reminded, this would be beneficial to them.

Amazingly, Jongin was not part of the after class session. Since they’d done their homework together, she assumed he’d be in the group. Turned out it was the complete opposite.

The sun was lower in the sky when they were released. Most of the students racing out of the dreadful classroom. Just a few hours left to enjoy freedom before the sun went down and another day would begin.

At a much slower pace, Namjoo pulled her backpack on and limped down the abandoned hall toward the stairs to the front door. A brisk wind had settled. A slight ray of sunshine flashed over the tree lines in the distance. Through the two open doors, Namjoo saw the exotic looking tree leaves dancing. The school yard was empty. Those who’d stayed behind for club activities were changing in the locker rooms probably.

She thought of the familiarity of her old school on the other side of town. A tiny campus adjoined with the junior high just next door of over 800 students, but she’d known a lot of the upperclassman and juniors. The school she’d gone to for five years had felt like home to her.

There had been the handsome social studies teacher she and a crowd of girl students had crushed on. Many of them getting told off for wearing makeup to school in hopes of looking pretty for the day. Namjoo had worn her mother’s makeup, digging through her stash at the vanity one morning only to be called out by the principal to wash it off in the bathroom.

That one boy two years her senior on the basketball team had made her heart flutter. She’d skip after lessons to watch their team’s practice. Aweing and joining the screams, rooting him on. He had been her first heart throb although she’d never said hi to him.

Then her group of friends who’d given her a notebook of farewell wishes. Aware the rest half of their senior year would be spent studying for exams and applying to university, Namjoo knew they wouldn’t have the time to meet up anymore.

At first, she’d been excited about the sudden transfer. She’d get to wear a school uniform, the kinds she often saw idols promoting on television, at least once in her life. Although graduation was just around the corner and the semester was already halfway completed, none of that had been in Namjoo’s worries.

Now that her mother had finally remarried and she was dumped into an entirely new world, Namjoo was nostalgic. And she was somewhat lonely. She had no close friends. Her new family still felt like strangers even though she hadn’t lived with them a long time. The transition wasn’t turning out to be a slice of cake.

Pausing on the front doorstep Namjoo stared across the sky. It suddenly hit her. Would she know the way home?

Hopefully she still had some change in her wallet somewhere in her backpack. She could call her mother to come pick her up if she got lost; though it was a stupid thing to be getting lost when she was 17.

Namjoo sighed. Hopping down a step she slowly started across the school yard. Almost jumping out of her skin when a figure rose from the bench strategically placed between the giant trees in the courtyard. Hidden by the shade of the thick branches she only saw a dark silhouette. Then the light hit him when he stepped out of shade.

Namjoo stared. Watching the light cascade over him. Looking at his shoes up to his face. The cheekbones. The dark hair covering his forehead in an almost playful manner.

She felt her heart kick.

“Did it end already?” he asked.

His voice was still silky smooth. Nice.

Namjoo pressed her lips together. Experiencing a fuzz in her belly. Nervous, her eyes skittered away from him.

Closing the distance between them he held his hand out.

“W…what?” Namjoo inched back.

“Giv