Namjoo tugged and tugged but her strength could not match his. He was bigger. He’d grown much bigger.

“You jerk! Jerk! Jerk! Jerk!” she screeched.

The students in the hallway parted for them. Staring wide-eyed. Pressing themselves into the walls like blocking him was a crime. Namjoo struggled with him as he lugged her down the stairs with him. Down another floor and through the hall finally reaching the cafeteria where he’d purchased her milk earlier.

Pulling her up to his side he crammed a hand into his pocket. “A carton of chocolate milk, please.”

The round cafeteria lady in a white hairnet glanced from her to him. Without passing judgment she handed over what he’d asked for. Thanking her he dragged Namjoo with him through the front doors. Whipping past a flow of students on their way in. Their heads turned. He never minded them and the wet jacket he was still in.

Namjoo yelped when he pushed her around the corner pinning her to the wall of the building. Shoving the milk into her hand he said, “Look, I bought you another one.”

He foresaw it before she even slammed the milk into his chest. “I don’t want it!” Pushing him she yelled, “Move!”

Grabbing the milk, her hand, he stared right at her, saying in a deep tone, “If I give you something, you take it.”

He moved the hand back her direction. Namjoo’s glare grew intense. His gaze was just the same. Unmoving. Unwavering.

“Fine,” she seethed. Vehemently ripping the carton open she gulped down the milk. The entire time her eyes turned darker and darker.

Namjoo hated him he knew, but he still wanted to be her friend.

It wasn’t fair.

It didn’t have to be this way.

Flinging the carton to the ground she angrily asked, “Happy?”

He let her go, stepping back. Hastily turning Namjoo hurried back toward the building.

“And,” he called out walking toward her. Slipping out of the school blazer, he shoved it into her hands, “You owe me dry cleaning.”

Beating her inside he smiled to himself, grossly satisfied.

⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂

She hated him so much!!!

The anger was a fiery ball at the back of ready to come flying out. Namjoo wanted to burst into a wild scream. The second she stomped into the classroom Sehun was already at his desk, back to her. Her hand immediately curled into a fist. She wanted to fly forward, kick him out of his chair.

At his desk, Chanyeol glanced at her. His brows swinging up inquiring for what had happened. Namjoo couldn’t speak before the side door opened and the homeroom teacher stepped in with an arm full of paper. Puffing a ring of smoke through her nostrils Namjoo stomped over to her desk.

“What?” she snapped when Jongin’s pinched eyes looked at her.

The shake of his head as he turned away from her rubbed her nerves raw. Why…she wanted to kick him out of his chair, too.

“All right kids,” the homeroom teacher stopped at the front center of the room. Handing Sehun the paper to pass back, she explained, “Spring is here and we all know what that means.”

The entire class grumbled.

“Our sports festival is coming up,” she went on, “your entire grade will be competing with the other schools. We’ll be holding the festivities here since our campus is larger. Noted in the flyer is the different races the school will be implementing; from track race to weight lifting to long jumps and a game of soccer. Everyone should participate, so decide which one you want to do.”

Namjoo rolled her eyes, pushed the sheet to the far corner of her desk, and stared out the window. She wasn’t interested in participating in stupid school activities.

She spent the rest half of the morning yawning, day dreaming, making a list of chores to do when she got home. Expecting the day to be possibly smooth sailing. Right before lunch a knock on the door interrupted history lecture. The principal’s secretary poked her petite head inside and waited for the history teacher to go over. A moment of whispering passed between them before the teacher looked right to the back of the room.

The immediate second her eyes landed on her, Namjoo feigned attention on the board.

What now?

“Kim Namjoo,” the history teacher called out once the principal’s secretary disappeared. A turn of heads. All eyes landed on her. “Kim Jongin.”

Crap.

“Go to the principal’s office right now.”

Big crap.

Making her sigh loud and clear Namjoo pushed her chair back and stood. Noticing Jongin shooting her a side eye as he did the same. Quietly filing out of the room Namjoo quickened her pace to leave him behind. Damn the long legs that helped him catch up.

“If this is about community service street trash sounds likely for you,” Jongin mumbled.

“You first.” Namjoo offered then moved ahead of him.

The principal’s secretary stared at them when they rounded the corner noisily, still racing. Halting he shot her a demeaning stare. She returned it right to him.

Right in front of the principal’s thick wooden door neither refused to first go in. Jongin shoved her. She shoved him. And then he shoved her again with greater force she slammed into it. The secretary shot them both a harsher stare.

Namjoo grabbed the knob but not before kicking Jongin’s foot. That familiar smell of air freshener and weird cologne hit her full force when she opened the door. Behind the expansive desk the principal was seated.

“Yes, here they are,” Principal Soo announced.

Today, one of the chairs was unusually occupied. No wonder the room smelled stranger today. The woman was wearing a really exotic perfume. A strange gloss over her hair from all the hair spray used. The curls never fell out of place. Not even when she turned passing her eyes from her to Jongin. Finally, those dark coral lips weaved up and she smiled.

“Jongin!” she gleamed rising to her feet. Moving right over to him she grabbed his arms like he was some long lost son and they were finally reuniting.

Namjoo found herself staring at the woman’s too dark eyebrows. Appearing animated as they moved when she spoke.

Whirling to her the expression in the woman’s eyes switched dangerously like a cat preparing to pounce. “Is this her?” her tone was accusatory.

“There was an altercation yesterday,” the principal started.

The woman was fast to cut him off like a strike of flashing lightning. “What is wrong with your school?! How can you tolerate such violence! I want her expelled immediately!”

“Of course, I wholeheartedly understand your concern –”

“Then do it!” the woman screeched. Pointing at Jongin’s face, “What if those injuries scar? Is the school going to compensate for it?!”

“Ma’am I was –”

“Do it faster!” she scolded. “Ferocious kids like these never learn until you get rid of them!” ing her finger at Namjoo, “What the school needs to do is get rid of students like her!”

Baffled Namjoo had no idea how to react. The worst scenario she had concocted in her head was the school calling her grandmother in. Not that some woman would come to confront her.

Across from her Jongin’s face grew shy of red. Her first time witnessing him like that. He stammered but his voice was inaudible. At last his voice box tore open and he frustratingly shouted, “God! Stop it! Stop it!”

The principal’s eyes widened. The woman paused her chiding when Jongin grabbed her arm and dragged her out after him leaving her and the principal in a cloud of awkwardness.

Cutting her eyes to the principal she asked, “Can I go?”

She scurried out after he waved her off. Afternoon had arrived so lunch had broken out and students had flown from their respective classrooms into the cafeteria. At the end of the hallway Chanyeol lingered, his oversized figure easy to make out. Beyond him she spotted Sehun also in the hall. The sight of him was distasteful.

“Hey,” Chanyeol started when she neared. Turning to walk with her he asked, “You in trouble?”

Namjoo didn’t spare Sehun one glance. Passing him like he was invisible. “It was nothing.”

“You didn’t get written up?”

“It wasn’t even a fuss,” Namjoo mumbled. Shaking her head, she said, “I don’t even want to think about it. It gives me a bad headache.”

“Well…ok,” Chanyeol gave up. “Anyway, you know what you want to do for the sports festival?”

Namjoo groaned. That, too, hurt her brain.

“If you don’t, do soccer with me,” Chanyeol suggested. “We’ll be on the same team anyway and I’ll make sure the ball doesn’t get to you.”

Namjoo glanced at him from the corner of her eye. It was a good offer. Chanyeol was already on the school team. He’d be a good player and be up to his words. “I’ll think about it.”

⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂

This was so embarrassing!!

Reaching the front of the school Jongin shoved the woman toward the street screaming, “What the hell are you doing here?!”

The woman gasped exasperated. Tugging on her shirt and flapping her arm to fixate her dangling purse, she breathed, “I was standing up for you.”

His head was going to blow. “I told you not to come!”

“How can I not when a girl did this to you?!” she argued. Huffing she angled her head, eyes set on the school, “Just wait till I get my hands on that wench. Doing this to your handsome face.”

“Just…” he was going to suffocate or rather choke on all the curses swimming through his head threatening to swim out of his mouth, but God forgive. “Go away!”

He threw his hands up perplexed. Pivoting on a heel he stomped back toward school. Darn woman. He must look easy to her. Now he just felt like an idiot. Some kid who’d gone crying to the lady next door to come to his defense.

Ignoring the long stares Jongin yanked the door to the bathroom open. Walking right over to the sink he pulled the faucet handle so hard he almost tore it off. Heaving a sigh so deep his insides turned inside out he stared at himself in the mirror. The bruises were dark flowers on his face. The colors a blend of baby blue to dark black-purple. A tiny twitch of the nose and everything else started throbbing.

Freaking Namjoo.

She gave him a coy gaze with the sharp raise of the brow when class resumed after lunch break. Some look of mockery since the principal’s office. Sliding her gaze away she shifted toward the window to stare at the sun. She was laughing at him but not really doing it. He could feel it. Jongin just couldn’t stand her.

When classes finally ended, he followed her out of school. The shaggy haired kid wasn’t with her, because he left first for practice. Tucking his hands into his pockets he passed her. Intentionally bumping shoulders with her on his way down the stairs. Namjoo shot him a frown, annoyed. At the bottom he purposely waited for her pass and did the same. Hurrying ahead, bumping into her. The fellow students glanced at them. None said anything. All too anxious to get home for the day and not about to be held back by menial classmates who warred with each other constantly.

Their voices became faint as they traveled past the main lobby toward the open front doors, where an array of sunlight beamed onto the shiny white linoleum tiles. The studded trees outside shivered from the breeze. Green leaves fluttered in reply.

He could feel the distinct firelit glare from Namjoo’s eyes on his back. He intentionally bumped into her all the way into the middle of the front courtyard. Fed up Namjoo stopped bypassing him. Peering over his shoulder he saw her standing head held high.

“What?” he asked.

Her lower lip stretched into a tight line then she threw her backpack onto the ground and charged at him, ramming into him, shoving him with force. Pushing him back one, two, four uneven steps. Speaking in a staccato rhythm, “What – is – your – problem?!”

Jongin ended up skidding a step and a half listening to Namjoo deeply exhale. Her brows angled down her face just above her pinched eyes.

He scoffed, “I’m not the one with a problem.”

Namjoo breathed a laugh, “You’re such a joke. Oh right, maybe that’s why instead of your dad your older girlfriend had to come visit the school. Imagine that, Kim Jongin who always places seventieth place on exams or lower, embroiled in an affair with an older woman.” When she looked at him, he could only hear her rolling laughter as she looked down on him.

Kim effin Namjoo who ranked at the bottom of the food chain!

“Isn’t that illegal?”

Tossing his backpack aside he caught her off guard, swiftly grabbing her shoulders as he slammed her onto the grass.

“Take that back!” he shouted when she yelped shocked.

Quickly coming to her senses Namjoo pushed him off. “Get off me!”

Jongin easily threw her over. Overtaken by an innate need to stand on a singular stage of even power. He hadn’t asked for help. He never told that woman to come scold Namjoo, because she’d beaten him yesterday.

He was wary, he was embarrassed about what happened today. He didn’t want to be laughed at.

“I said take it back!” Jongin yelled.

Namjoo’s hand landed smack on his shoulder. Squirming under him to struggle free. She grunted and huffed then when that didn’t work, she slammed her knuckles into his face. Jongin immediately saw rings of lights spinning inside his eyes. The pain stung so bad he lost his grip on her. Scrambling to sit up he pressed a hand against his face. Namjoo moved too fast disregarding his cry of anguish. Next he knew he was on his back with a grunt. Half out of it. Half in a mountain pain.

He moaned. A part of him wondering if his nose was broken. Blinking he cracked his eyes open once the stinging lights in his eyes started vanishing. Namjoo was straddling him angrily pulling his shirt into her fists. She wasn’t done with him, but it ended as quickly as it started.

One look at her and he felt the strange pressure idling inside the warmth of his body or more like his lower half. The heat started first in his cheeks before he understood what was going to happen.

Panicked, he shoved her off and made a run for the boys’ bathroom, his heart beating like a manic African drum the entire way. Running into an empty stall he slammed the door shut and locked it. Knocking the back of his head into the wall even more ashamed than he had been when the woman next door had come acting like his older girlfriend.

He was never going to recover from this.

⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂

Chanyeol always made it a part of his schedule to wake up early, eat breakfast, comb his hair, and ensure his outfit was wrinkle free. Namjoo would be out of her house the moment he arrived at her doorstep. Adjusting her backpack on as she closed the door. Then she’d turn and he’d be the first person she saw at the start of her day.

It was always like that, but today Namjoo was a little slower leaving him idling at the front of the bakery. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.

Absentminded Namjoo finally opened the door breathing a gasp of surprise when she saw him. “Oh…it’s you.”

Peering inside he wondered, “Did you wake up late?”

“No,” she awkwardly smiled. “It’s nothing.”

Pulling the door shut she walked past him instead of letting him fall in step with her. This morning Chanyeol had to scramble to catch up to her.

“Do you think we’ll get our quizzes back today?” he asked. “I probably flunked mine.”

She didn’t answer. Namjoo was chewing on her thumbnail. Taking her hand, he lowered it.

“You can ruin your teeth that way,” he cautioned. “And when did you start biting your nails?”

“What?” she blankly asked as if she hadn’t been paying attention. Turning away she excused, “I didn’t.”

He frowned at her. “What’s with you today?”

“Nothing!” her voice went up a pitch higher. He caught the widening of her eyes for just a split second before she turned and hurried ahead.

Chanyeol stared after her curious. Reaching the foot of school, they joined the flock inside. Surprisingly, quietly. In no matter of time they were on their classroom floor. Making their way down the hall. Past noisy students gossiping, giggling, and whispering.

The door to their classroom brightened ominously. With natural tact Namjoo walked inside with him. Just like always. Because Namjoo had been a bit slow this morning the classroom was half full with bumbling students. Oh Sehun was already at his desk. Kim Jongin at his, his chin buried in his palm. He appeared bored out of his mind.

Upon their entrance the two turned to look at them. Backing up Namjoo bumped into his arm. Looking up at him she excused, “I…” she dragged it needlessly before churring the following at the speed of light, “have to go use the bathroom.”

Darting past him she escaped, her thumping footsteps fading the farther she went. Chanyeol blinked.

Strange.

Namjoo was always quick with words. Didn’t bother with anyone. Wasn’t even scared of the principal. Namjoo cared only about herself. Her demeanor was like that. Carrying her head high. But she vied for the weak girls who were hesitant and shy, falling into the shadows of the student body, unforgotten by everyone.

His Namjoo did not think twice. Chanyeol liked that about her.

But this morning she was short of words.

He stared at Jongin then Sehun out of the corner of his eyes underneath his curved brows. Something about them Chanyeol never liked.

And it always, always had to do with his Namjoo.