Wendy tugs at the nooses of her hoodie again and secures the hood over her eyes that were already hidden behind ridiculously large ‘Audrey Hepburn’ glasses.

 

She looks everywhere and honestly a little out of place in the roaring crowd of their high school’s annual talent show.

 

“Wendy!”

 

Yep, that would be her mother, Jackie Son, trying to burrow her way into the crowd and to her daughter.

 

“Wendy!” She repeats, visibly struggling with the crowd that was quite honestly starting to seem like the rest of the kingdom at Simba’s presentation.

 

(Considering who was performing next, this might as well be ‘that’ scene in the Lion King. People love humoring that troublemaker.)

 

Wendy vigorously puts a finger over as she pulls her mother closer the moment she was within reach.

 

“Are you seriously silencing me in this crowd, Wendy?” Jackie practically had to shout as she puts her belongings on her chair and decides to just stay standing like the rest of the crowd.

 

“Mom, please!” Wendy says as she practically jumps to put a hand over her mother’s mouth. “Keep saying my name, and she’ll find out exactly where we are!”

 

Jackie looks at Wendy with a deadpan the latter chooses to ignore.

 

“Honey, with this riot going on I doubt she can hear us even if I shouted her name.”

 

“You’ll never know, mother.”

 

Jackie looked more insulted now than she did minutes ago when she got shushed the second time with her own daughter’s hand—

 

And just as the lights dimmed, that one active teacher who keeps organizing these talent shows chose that exact moment to silence the crowd a notch.

 

“Did you just call me mother, Son Seungwan?” Her mother exclaims right on cue.

 

Nice. Spectacular timing.

 

Now, the crowd sits—a few students snickering at the duo who was now at least known to a third of the crowd. It was as if they also knew what was about to happen.

 

“Oh, God,” Wendy puts a hand over her face, ready for the coming shame. “Now, I’m pretty sure you just gave us away.”

 

Jackie looks around, denial creeping all the way up her cheeks as she tries to diffuse the rising panic she was also starting to feel by pretending to fan herself—

 

For every year, in all of the consecutive talent shows her daughter’s best friend participated in, there was always—always—a ‘little’ disclaimer.

 

“I don’t think she knows where we are, I mean she’s all the way up the stage and—“ 

 

The thing is: Jackie never really meant what she was saying. For she and her daughter both know full well what Kang Seulgi’s ‘little’ pre-performance disclaimers were like.

 

Jackie Son didn’t even get to finish her futile attempt to calm her already slumped daughter when Seulgi’s high-pitched disclaimer was heard over an already ear-shattering mic feedback.

 

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!” Seulgi practically screams into the mic as her little crescents of eyes scanned the audience, and no matter how much Wendy tried to hide, (no matter what she hides her face with, even if only the tip of Jackie’s head could be seen, no matter how ridiculously dim the lights in the audience were) the mischievous girl sees them and immediately brightens.

 

Yup. Seulgi was about to go at it, and denial was nowhere near the country’s area of responsibility now.

 

“Oh, God. She saw us—“ Wendy repeats in almost a whimper, pulling her hoodie over her face so that only could be seen. “She’s not going to do anything embarrassing, is she?”

 

“Well—she is Kang Seulgi so let’s lower our expectations on that one.” Jackie laughs nervously as she uses her purse to cover her face. She peeks through the handles and sees Seulgi’s bright smile all the way from their seats.

 

For a second, mother and daughter both wondered why they were getting punished like this. All they wanted was to be supportive of Seulgi who was now practically family. 

 

“MY AWESOME BEST FRIEND WENDY SON AND HER ROCKSTAR MOTHER JACKIE ARE HERE TONIGHT—“

 

Of course, now, she was pointing at their direction.

 

People from the audience were now looking (and laughing) at them. 

 

“Oh, Sweet Mother of Baby Jesus—“ Jackie says as she literally spills out the contents of her purse and (all but) wears the bag over her head in a desperate attempt to hide her identity.

 

“WENDY! JACKIE! THIS ONE’S FOR YOU!”

 

And Seulgi dramatically tosses the mic over her shoulder, lips pursed smug as the music starts playing, and being the talented dancer that she is, the crowd goes absolutely wild.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The first time that Wendy and Jackie met Seulgi was literally after a hole was blasted through the thin shared wall separating their households’ apartments. The hole was specifically located in poor little Wendy’s bedroom.

 

Seulgi was seven, and so was Wendy.

 

Jackie wanted to be angry because her daughter and only company in everyday life was traumatized, but there was just something about the little girl who profusely apologized by nearly kissing her and Wendy’s feet.

 

Seulgi not only apologized, but she insisted to have the hole fixed, and (this was what got Jackie sold) offered to watch over Wendy every night until she got over her fear of... well... sudden wall blasts?

 

Jackie, being the single mother that she was, didn’t need to ask when only a father shows up to apologize the next day. This part of their building was known to hold struggling single parents anyways. That’s why the landlord offers cheaper rents and babysitting services for their rooms which apparently Seulgi’s father, Jinki, also refused.

 

“If the landlord has only one babysitter then I won’t risk it,” is what he says one day and Jackie agrees.

 

But it took a while for Jackie to understand that ‘I won’t risk it’ meant keeping that one babysitter safe from a cannon ball like Seulgi.

 

Soon, the little bullet would spend every night actually watching over her little frail and soft Wendy until the latter slept soundly, but of course that also meant Seulgi would end up softly snoring just by Wendy’s bedpost with a toy Nerf rifle still tightly clutched by her little hands.

 

And before Wendy’s mother knew it, Seulgi would spend more nights and (eventually) days in their apartment until the little enigma was much taller than Jackie herself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wendy snorts as she cuts the streaming on her Spotify the moment a very mainstream song starts drifting to her ears. It hurt her pride too much to even bob her head to a song everybody likes. She hated the mainstream crowd with a passion.

 

When she hears rustling somewhere behind the dresser leaning on the wall that separated her and Seulgi’s rooms, she doesn’t even bother to look up from the book she was reading.

 

The (secretly wheeled) dresser slides smoothly out of the way as Seulgi slips into her room (through a now neatly-carved hole on the wall) effortlessly.

 

(Seulgi never actually had that hole ‘covered again’ if that was what Jackie meant by ‘fix’. She kind of just had it neatly done.)

 

“Hiya, Wendy!” Seulgi throws herself on Wendy’s bed, settling comfortably next to the academically-inclined girl.

 

“Can you at least remove your shoes, Kang Seulgi?” Wendy says rather monotonously (still without looking at the other girl).

 

Seulgi shrugs and kicks off her footwear, not caring where it landed.

 

“Well, hello to you, too.” Seulgi’s tone was oozing with sarcasm as she picks up a random book from the pile neatly set beside Wendy and browses through its pages with very little interest. “Bad day, Little Wannie?”

 

“Truth?” Wendy groans.

 

Seulgi nods, eyeing her best friend sideways.

 

“It’s—“ Wendy groans again, internally this time.

 

“It’s Math.”

 

It wasn’t. She lied. She was an excellent mathematician.

 

Seulgi now tosses the book she pretended to read. She props herself up and her chin on her hand, giving her full attention to Wendy.

 

And sometimes—just sometimes—Wendy wishes Seulgi wasn’t this wonderful to her.

 

“I might have screwed a test up.”

 

Not really. She never screws Math tests up. She sticks with the lie anyway.

 

Seulgi snorts, but urges her to continue her obvious lie as she lifts her other hand to play with a lock of Wendy’s hair.

 

And Wendy really—really—wishes Seulgi wasn’t too sweet.

 

“And Physics, too.”

 

Wrong. She lies again. 

 

She might as well have said Biology considering how her hormones and ‘certain news’ she got this week was what actually bothered her.

 

You see, she was never bothered by any of Seulgi’s ‘almost’ girlfriends, she actually ends up being really good friends with them the same way Seulgi does not have a single bad ‘breakup’—

 

And that says a lot, because she’s had about six, or seven—maybe eight? Whatever. Wendy (and maybe even Seulgi) lost count.

 

They were both seniors now and many things should have changed, but they haven’t.

 

A lot of people seemed to really like Seulgi. And it was just so unfortunate—

 

Because one night, back when they were fifteen and supposedly sleeping, Wendy gulped (down this ugly lump in that threatened to bomb her painfully thumping heart) when Seulgi tells her she was going to introduce her to her then (and first) ‘almost’ girlfriend Soojung.

 

It was truly a painful secret to like anything mainstream—to like what a lot of people seem to like; to really, really like Kang Seulgi. 

 

Every time a girl comes up, Wendy tells herself she’s used to it, but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t ‘actually’ hurt.

 

‘And Chemistry.”

 

Another lie, but not so much because Wendy was genuinely wondering if Seulgi had any sort of Chemistry with her current rumored muse.

 

Seulgi drawls a hum, obviously unconvinced. 

 

But, screw it! Wendy’s the best friend and she should have the privilege to know these things first.

 

“And apparently there’s a Sooyoung going on?”

 

Now, that one. That wasn’t a lie.

 

It was a non-lie Seulgi suddenly guffaws at. Wendy finally looks at her with narrowed eyes.

 

“Kang Seulgi, I am your best friend of ten ing years, so care to tell me why I’m hearing a Sooyoung from none other than your fifth almost ex?”

 

Seulgi grimaces at the curse word that slipped from Wendy’s mouth. She makes a show of wiping the other girl’s mouth, but the latter swats her hand away.

 

“What did I say about cursing, Wanda?”

 

“And what did I say about telling me things first?”

 

Seulgi was shaking as she kept her bubbling laughter in. Wendy hits her again, and that effectively silences the other girl.

 

“What did Irene unnie say anyway? I mean—“

 

“Irene unnie isn’t even your fifth. She’s the seventh,” Wendy deadpans.

 

And Wendy definitely remembers that Irene came much later, because she actually really liked her to the point of forming an actual friendship with the older girl.

 

(She was definitely sure she wasn’t the fifth, because the girl tinier than Irene she spoke to earlier was the one she coded ‘fifthsqueak’.)

 

Seulgi looks up at the ceiling in thought, mouthing an ‘oh’ as she stuck out fingers while she counted. A second later, she looks genuinely confused and drops counting altogether as she shook her head.

 

“Listen, I’m not sure what you heard, but I promised you at one point that you’ll be the first to know if there was someone—“ Seulgi lies back down and takes Wendy’s hand in hers, “—and Sooyoung is just a friend. She’s actually Irene unnie’s friend, you know.”

 

Wendy keeps her scrutinizing gaze on Seulgi.

 

She should really drop the case, because Kang Seulgi might be one to break walls and (occasionally) bones, but she was never the type to break promises.

 

And maybe she might drop this easily, because Seulgi was smiling at her now—the kind that should really get her bolting out of the room.

 

Alas, she realizes too late—

 

Because she spends the next fifteen minutes laughing and struggling to break free from Seulgi’s tickle attack. The only ticket out the taller girl allowed was a lullaby from Wendy, who of course resists—

 

For a about three seconds. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sure, Sooyoung is a friend.

 

For now.

 

Wendy wondered for how long, because the way that supermodel of a woman would throw her smug little looks from across the table where she and Seulgi sat had every fiber of Wendy’s being telling her there was another ‘sunset’ in the horizon.

 

There was a reason Wendy calls them ‘almost’ girlfriends—Seulgi’s allergies with commitment. She never actually ends up formally dating any of them. There was just a few weeks of cute fun, fun, fun (which Wendy absolutely hate, hate, haaaates), and usually by the fourth week, Seulgi tells her:

 

‘Nah, it didn’t work out. Guess, we’re really just meant to be friends.’

 

Right. Friends.

 

She didn’t need any of these girls invading the Friendzone, too, except Irene. That woman is a wonderful mother figure to both her and Seulgi.

 

But this one—

 

—this Park Sooyoung.

 

She was something else.

 

There was something about her that was just too deep to catch with common sense alone.

 

“So, what do you like doing, Wendy?” Sooyoung asks as she twirls a can of Coke on their table.

 

“She’s the best singer ever!” Wendy hears Seulgi brag. She doesn’t catch the rest of the exchange. She was too distracted.

 

Lunch was supposed to be an enjoyable time to either dote on Seulgi or just have normal everyday chats with Seulgi over their favorite snacks, a.k.a. Pringles and Coke.

 

But here she was, sitting across Seulgi and Sooyoung who treats the former like she can’t feed herself.

 

“Here, have some more,” Sooyoung says as she guides a can of coke to Seulgi’s lips and carefully tilts it.

 

“Jesus Christ,” Wendy mumbles under her breath as she dips her hand on her own Pringles can.

 

“What was that?” Sooyoung asks, smile clearly dropped.

 

“Oh, nothing—forgot to thank Jesus for all the blessings,“ Wendy says with a smile sweeter than diner milkshakes. “Christ, our Lord and savior, thank you for blessing our lunch table with the bounty from your gates and the rivers of heaven!”

 

Seulgi smiles very brightly, and Wendy ends up actually thanking the heavens because her best friend practically jumps out of Sooyoung’s personal space to silently pray herself.

 

“Thank you, Jesus!” Wendy exclaims again, loud enough that the Christian Club two tables away gives her a ‘Hallelujah’ back.

 

“These are Pringles and Coke,” Sooyoung deadpans.

 

“These are the biggest blessings one Kang Seulgi can ever ask for,” Wendy says, putting a little more stress on the word ‘these’, and making sure Sooyoung understood how incredulous that sounded.

 

Giant: 0

Wendy: 1

 

Sooyoung was quiet—deathly quiet—for exactly two seconds. Wendy doesn’t back down, holding the obviously taller girl’s gaze, while clueless Seulgi continued to chomp down Pringles.

 

“Well—“ just like that, Sooyoung was smiling again, and Wendy felt a little shiver down her spine, “—I’ll take note of that. You’re such a good bestfriend.”

 

Oh, she did NOT.

 

That was too much emphasis on ‘bestfriend’.

 

Giant: 1

Wendy: 1

 

Every preconception she had about the girl were now far from inklings. This was no sunset coming; this was a whole midnight.

 

In the background, the Christian Club was still at it. Their president, Roseanne Park, has procured a guitar at one point and was now hitting the strings as they went. They were singing Jesus Take the Wheel.

 

Well, Wendy definitely needed Jesus on her side, now.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“So—“

 

If such a two-letter word came from Irene, Wendy never found anything good that followed. The woman was too perceptive.

 

Wendy pretended to be very busy reading that random book she had pulled from the shelf behind her.

 

“Do you never intend to tell her?”

 

Knew it.

 

“Tell her what?” Wendy pretended to be unaffected. She turns another page.

 

Irene chuckles. “Why do you kids like brooding at the library?”

 

“Who said I was brooding?”

 

“That little pout gave you away, Wendy Son.”

 

“I’m busy reading. No time to brood,” Wendy says, determined to keep up the charade. 

 

But this was Irene here; there was no hiding from her, and there was always a way for her to worm her warmth into your being. “You don’t even like that book.”

 

Wendy scoffs. “Of course, I do.”

 

“You don’t.”

 

“And how would you know?”

 

“Wendy—“ Irene puts a hand over for a second, muffling that little laugh she makes, “—it’s upside down.”

 

Wendy tries to keep pretending. Key word: tries. She tries for an embarrassing two seconds, and all but groans when she decided to give up. “I hate her.”

 

“Sooyoung?” Irene asks with a raised eyebrow. “She’s actually nice in her own, well, unique way.”

 

“No, Seulgi.”

 

Irene finally puts down the pen she was using to push her attempts at practicing topics in math. “Honey, you can never hate Seulgi.”

 

“Watch me.” Wendy buries her face into the crook of her elbows as she slumps.

 

She hears Irene sigh. “I have a hunch, you know.”

 

Another groan.

 

“That maybe the reason why Seulgi never really commits is because there might be something too significant—too dear to her—that she just can’t jump over.”

 

Wendy finally moves her head to show her face. “Like?”

 

“I wouldn’t know.” Irene shrugs. “You’re the best friend.” 

 

Right.

 

But she has no clue.

 

“But Seulgi’s Seulgi; she practically hides nothing,” she wonders out loud. “Heck, the girl practically shouts every time she makes a wish at that dumb fountain.”

 

Another shrug then Irene starts packing her things. “You know, just because something isn’t hidden, that doesn’t mean we can see it.”

 

Well.

 

That hit different.

 

Every time there was a new girl to go on cute little ‘playdates’ with Seulgi, Wendy always kind of blurs the details out—like ultra zooming into a shot to see less and less of the nitty gritty. It wasn’t like Seulgi would make her adjust, because she never actually does. There had been nearly enough number of girls to recreate SNSD now, but Seulgi always had time—more time—for her.

 

Maybe she should start keeping her eyes open every sunset—pay a little more attention.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Okay, maybe putting too much care in this was starting off to be a bad idea.

 

If lunch was starting to get horrible every day, plainly being at the parking lot was about to get ticked off Wendy’s List of Things She Actually Appreciates.

 

She appreciates being in the parking lot, because she gets to internally brag about how her ride was always parked beside Seulgi’s.

 

But—

 

Park Sooyoung has a car. A goddamn Porsche.

 

Wendy found herself questioning her earlier conclusion. Does she have to pay attention to details when they presented themselves?

 

Wendy tries her best not to eye her blue bicycle neatly chained with Seulgi’s orange one.

 

“Oh, hi there, Wendy,” Sooyoung says with more smiles, less bite, and too much emphasis on ‘Wendy’ as she presses one of those fancy buttons that locks fancy cars.

 

“Hmm,” Wendy raises her brows as she sounds off her greeting in a hum.

 

“Do you know where Seulgi might be?”

 

Wendy shrugs and tries her best not to roll her eyes.  “Wouldn’t know. Weren’t you just hanging out last night?”

 

Sooyoung feigns a little pout and coos. “You know, I find it adorable that she tells you everything.”

 

“Perks.” And Wendy tries hard—tries very hard—to not say the rest of her statement: ‘—of being the bestfriend.’

 

“You should ask her about updates,” Sooyoung says as she finds no trouble in catching up with Wendy who tries to walk real quick off the parking lot and into the school halls.

 

“Updates?” Then, there was an ugly, ugly bitter taste clawing its way up .

 

“Life updates,” Sooyoung says with a shrug and a hint of finality, like it was her way of bidding Wendy goodbye.

 

But she does give Wendy a sultry little wave, before taking a turn opposite Wendy’s.

 

Life updates?

 

Seulgi wouldn’t leave her out of anything, would she? She never did, and she promised she never will.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To say Wendy was ‘very bothered’ was the understatement of the century, because Wendy loved math. It was her escape from every sunset deep in her heart, but here she was seated upfront with half a mind to notice Mino who had been trying hard to get her attention. Normally, she would be turning pages further into the book with him.

 

“Hey, is everything alright?” 

 

Oh, right. Mino.

 

“Hey, Mino,” Wendy says with the energy of a sloth turning in for its fifty-seventh afternoon nap.

 

Mino sits next to her, but was kind enough to not open a book. “Everything okay?”

 

“I—yeah, just a little sleepy,” Wendy lies.

 

Mino sees it though. Wendy sees him put his book and things away. Why can’t she like this guy? He’s been obvious since day one. He’s handsome, smart—

 

“Is that sophomore at Physics bugging you again?” Mino asks with a kind of puppy-dog protectiveness.

 

Oh, now she remembers why she doesn’t like him that way.

 

“Lucas is a cute little toddler in my eyes,” Wendy says with an eyeroll.

 

Seulgi definitely made the right choice to come out at middle school. She doesn’t have to deal with this kind of patriarchal shht.

 

And just as Wendy found complete discomfort and utter awkwardness in Mino’s company, female and Korean Indiana Jones in the flesh decides to show up.

 

“Wendy Son! My savior! My dearest! My heart and soul!”

 

Ah, of course.

 

Always expect Seulgi to arrive right at the nick of time. 

 

“Do I have to guess why you’re even here?” Wendy hisses just as Seulgi approaches her desk and crouches near her desk.

 

“Ouch—“ Seulgi puts a hand over her chest. “You make it sound like I only come visit you at maths when I need you—“

 

A raise of an eyebrow.

 

“Okay—you see—Wendy, my love, my cool, hot, sweet love—“ Seulgi pulls out her trigonometry book (and expertly swats Wendy’s hand away as the shorter girl tried to flick her on the forehead) and puts it on Wendy’s desk, “—math is never my strongest point, especially Trig.”

 

Wendy falls quiet, and wanted to stay quiet, but she makes the deadly mistake of looking at those pleading eyes—those shimmering cuddly bear eyes.

 

Wendy sighs and takes the book with more force than necessary, and Seulgi squeals and all but does the Crayon Pop Bar Bar dance because she was Seulgi and she was crouching already so what the hell. 

 

The two girls fall into playful arguments here and there as Wendy explained all possible theories she knows about right triangles, and somehow Mino finally takes a hint and vacates the seat next to Wendy.

 

“Oh—so it was a trick question!” Seulgi says, looking like she’s been robbed. “Our Trig teacher asked us which angle was closest to the hypotenuse and nobody got it!”

 

Wendy rolls her eyes. “Either it was a trick question or your teacher was temporarily drunk. A right triangle, like any other polygon will have two angles on every side from the inside. No relativity.”

 

Like her life. While she will always be kept adjacent to Seulgi, there always has to be another angle sharing proximity with her.

 

“This is why I come to you and not the teacher’s room!” Seulgi says with a very bright smile, and just as she got up to leave, Wendy’s maths teacher (who was particularly known for scorning young people and their culture) comes in with a greeting.

 

Seulgi instead rushes back to the seat Mino vacated for her.

 

“What are you doing?” Wendy hisses, worries all but gone and fully replaced by an impending panic attack. She complains to Seulgi nearly everyday about this teacher’s ‘ways with the youth’ and that definitely wasn’t a good thing. “Go to your class!”

 

Seulgi gestures for her to stay calm, but considering how broad that grin was, Wendy definitely didn’t feel like calming down.

 

“Don’t do anything stupid!”

 

Seulgi responds with an ‘ok’ sign, a dumb smirk and no signs of getting up, and Wendy could honestly cry right now.

 

“So far, only Wendy and Mino turned in the optional homework. The world’s generations just get worse and worse,” the teacher, Miss Choi, says in her trademark monotonous voice that practically puts everyone to sleep. “In that case, I’m going to have to discuss the problem with the rest of you, and before I do, does anyone in this class even cares to ask questions?”

 

And one brave soul raises a firm hand Hermione style. Wendy groans, because it was Seulgi and that meant nothing—absolutely nothing—good. She wasn’t even enrolled in this class.

 

“Yes, Miss—“ Miss Choi actually makes a little squeak, and it sounded so foreign that even Wendy had to hold back an impending bubble of laughter. “—Kang? You are not enrolled in this class.”

 

“No, but my question matters to the greater good of society as a whole—“ Seulgi said with so much feigned compassion that Wendy could just hit her then and there.

 

Miss Choi’s brows raise slowly and dangerously.

 

“—why is this educational system so uninspiring?”

 

It was in that moment that Wendy found herself at her most religious. What was worse is that her classmates started humoring Seulgi. A few kids at the back were a few rebuts away into going full on applause.

 

“Maybe if you learned a thing or two from being around Miss Son all the time, you wouldn’t be too uninspired,” Miss Choi all but growls.

 

“But that’s just the thing—“ Seulgi puts a hand on her chin, probably looking like some smart little to Miss Choi “—while I may agree my generation has a lot to work on—“

 

Wendy starts sliding down her chair, hoping the floor would just swallow her whole.

 

“—I believe it’s truly unfair to generalize, when a whole Wendy Son exists.”

 

Then, there was deathly silence from Miss Choi, and a couple of ‘oohs’ from the back.

 

Oh, Jesus. Open heaven’s gates. Where was the Christian Club when you need them?

 

“That is why—“ Seulgi stands and bows profusely at the still quiet teacher “—before I make my way out of this room, I would like the world to know that Wendy Son is a wonderful student and person overall and the universe needs to appreciate her.”

 

Miss Choi was still silent. Seulgi makes a tentative sidestep, and the soonest her the tip of her shoe touches the floor—

 

“OUT!”

 

And just like that, mischief personified darts out of the room with the cheekiest smile.

 

But she was Seulgi, so it really shouldn’t come as a surprise to Wendy that she still had it in her to come rushing back in, leave what seemed to be a bento on Wendy’s desk.

 

Before Miss Choi could make another round of explosives with , Seulgi sneaks a kiss on Wendy’s forehead, and screams, “I APPRECIATE WENDY SON!” as she ran back out. 

 

Wendy could only hide her tomato for a face behind her hands.

 

“GET OUUUUT!”

 

Wendy peeks from the spaces between her fingers. She really wasn’t ready to share her embarrassment (and the undeniable smile she now wore) to the world.

 

Well.

 

It was always like this with Seulgi. Maybe it wasn’t fair that Wendy would sometimes blame her for her gay dilemma, but it will always be Wendy’s personal treasure to know that Seulgi will do anything to make her feel like she deserved all the world’s wonders.

 

Just like that, Wendy felt lighter than air.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Did you like it?”

 

Wendy nodded while smiling contently. She and Seulgi were headed home, strolling out of the parking lot as they wheeled their bicycles on the side.

 

“It was good,” Wendy says as she tries to dump her bag on her bicycle basket, “and at least you’re doing the cooking for once.”

 

Seulgi snorts. Seeing the shorter girl struggle, she takes Wendy’s bag for her, wearing it around her chest.

 

It was Wendy’s turn to snort. “You look like a turtle.”

 

“I’m practicing,” Seulgi declares with a little pump of her chest. “I’ll look like this when you decide to finally join the Singing Club—“

 

Wendy slows down a little, making the little bell on her bicycle jingle.

 

“—I’ll bring dozens of room temperature water bottles for you, a bunch of snacks, and—“

 

Wendy sighs. “Seulgi, we talked about this. You know how I feel about being in front of people, besides the Math Club already has—ow!”

 

Seulgi flicked her.

 

She flicked her right on the tip of her nose. Now, she was sure she looked like some copy of Rudolph.

 

“Does it hurt?” Seulgi asks with a serious face, and Wendy just wants to smack her.

 

“What the fu—ow! Seulgi!”

 

“That’s for trying to curse! Now, does it hurt?” Seulgi has her hands on her hips, but they both knew she’d only look silly with backpacks worn at the back and front. 

 

“Of course, it does! What, do you want me to flick you—ow! Jesus Christ Kang Seulgi! Stop flicking my nose!”

 

Seulgi huffs indignantly. “That’s how it feels.”

 

Wendy falls silent. She obviously wasn’t following.

 

“That’s how it feels right here—“ she pats the little spot covered by Wendy’s backpack strap where her heart was buried. “It hurts my kokoro, you know? You’re a wonderful singer, and you obviously love it. It hurts seeing you hide because you think you’re not good enough.”

 

Wendy’s hand was still over her nose, softly rubbing as she eased the pain, but yes, she had fallen silent as she took Seulgi’s words in. It was their senior year after all, and Seulgi had long been pushing her to sing in front of a lot of people.

 

She chuckles. “Kokoro.”

 

“I’m serious—“

 

Wendy cut her off, raising a little hand. “I know. It’s just—at the right time, Seul. Okay?”

 

Seulgi narrows her eyes.

 

Wendy sighs in defeat. “I promise. I promise I will.”

 

Seulgi’s narrowed eyes curve into smiling crescents, and really, Wendy wonders why god gave this person too much power over her.

 

It just wasn’t fair.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

At Chemistry the following day, Wendy feels something ominous. She really shouldn’t even wonder about the source, because she can recognize that dark energy without looking.

 

Two things though: first, she should stop watching anime with Seulgi because it’s seeping into her everyday life; second, she turned to look anyway.

 

“Well, well.”

 

Maleficent. In the flesh.

 

Melodramatic, but Park Sooyoung just exudes that kind of aura.

 

“It would seem you finally noticed me,” she says with a wiggle of her eyebrows. “We’ve been classmates this whole semester.”

 

Wendy acknowledges her with an uncommitted ‘hmm’, and reroutes her attention back to the still empty teacher’s desk.

 

“So, did you ask Seul?”

 

‘Seul’? Wow. Who gave her the right?

 

“Ask what?” Why does she humor this person again?

 

“Life updates, silly!” Sooyoung, who moved to sit directly beside Wendy, exclaims and finishes it off with an attractive little hair flip. “It’s ironic that I’m reminding you at Chemistry when you’d be dying to know what this is really about.”

 

Wendy dares not to look this time. Was it her pride? Or the growing weight of her lungs? She tries to swallow it down. “What does Chemistry have to do with it? Seulgi is in the arts.”

 

“Catalysts, reactions,” Sooyoung shrugs her shoulders, “whatever you decide to call it. She wouldn’t seem to shut up about it.”

 

Wendy manages to gulp it all down at some point.

 

Seulgi promised she’d mention if there was someone. So, why was all this shooting her right in the kokoro?

 

Great. Now, she has to hate chemistry, too.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“It’s called a spark, Seulgi.”

 

They were lounging in Wendy’s room as usual, and were having a small debate about a topic she decided to dub as  ‘significant turning points’ because she refuses to use any of Park Sooyoung’s words and to let Seulgi know Sooyoung had been talking to her.

 

Seulgi notices her demeanor anyway. So, being the sweet rascal that she was, she stuck around Wendy’s side, making everything more and less of a burden at the same time for the shorter girl.

 

“A spark causes significant turning points in life,” Wendy repeats, dead set  on rephrasing and rewording Sooyoung.

 

“I’d like to stick with gay panic,” Seulgi insists as she comfortably laid her head on Wendy’s lap, dangling leg slowly swinging.

 

“That’s really not what I mean,” Wendy says with a scrunch of a nose. “You can’t say someone gay panicked over certain realizations in life, like how Snow White ‘gay panicked’ the second she realized the apple was poisoned?’

 

“Totally applicable. I gay panicked the same minute I blew a hole on your wall.”

 

Wendy flicks Seulgi’s forehead, but the other girl only bursts out in laughter.

 

Just as Seulgi falls into giggles, Wendy suddenly feels the weight of her best friend’s head on her lap. She treads her fingers through her darker locks to kill a bit of the unfamiliar silence growing between them. “Spark feels a little more authentic to me.”

 

Seulgi hums, pointedly avoids Wendy’s gaze. “And heteronormative.”

 

This whole plan to get Seulgi to spill without directly asking was starting to backfire real quick. After all, this was definitely something they haven’t talked about at least on Wendy’s side. Seulgi has been open about herself since middle school.

 

Not knowing how to respond, Wendy laughs, coming off definitely awkward.

 

Oh. Wait.

 

Did she just... gay panic?

 

Not only did she lose at a dumb debate, she even proves Seulgi’s dumb point.

 

“Whoa—“ Seulgi looks up at her and lifts a lazy finger to point right between Wendy’s eyes “—you just gay panicked.”

 

“Um—“

 

The taller girl swings her leg back to pull herself up and off Wendy’s lap. “Well, looks like you lost. Let’s go get ice cream. Your treat, loser.”

 

She taps Wendy’s leg as she bounces on the balls of her feet. “Come on, Wanda. Treat this winner to some ice cream.”

 

Wendy blinks.

 

What just happened?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I gay panicked.”

 

Irene looks up from her book without putting it away. She props her chin on her hand and gestures for Wendy to take the seat in front of her. 

 

“And?” she asks calmly.

 

“And I don’t know what to do.”

 

Wendy was pale. She talked at least twelve words a second, and looked like she ran laps around campus.

 

Irene stretches her arm sideward, and taps the shoulder of someone who looks to be Jennie Kim who was at least two seats away. 

 

Jennie removes her eyeglasses and hands it over to Irene like it was the most normal thing to do. She doesn’t even look up from the Psychology book she was reading.

 

Irene wears the said red-rimmed spectacles, and clears . “And how do you feel about that?”

 

“I think I’m going to die.”

 

“A bit melodramatic, but tell me why.”

 

Wendy finally sits on her designated (patient’s) chair, and buries her face in her hands. “We went out for ice cream and it did nothing to make me feel normal again.”

 

“What do you think is the catalys—“

 

“—spark,” Wendy very quickly interjects, “—what sparked this whole gay dilemma? Is that what you want to ask?”

 

A nod.

 

“Remember the last time we talked? Right here on this very same spot?”

 

Another nod.

 

“I might have become extra sensitive to so many things, and it’s all becoming too much to take in. Then there’s Sooyoung poking at my shell every five seconds, and—and Seulgi being—just—annoying—sweet—stupid, —annoying, Seulgi! In conclusion—“

 

“You’re dying?” Irene says as she takes a sip from her tea. (Wait when did she make tea? Wait, this is the library! You can’t bring food and drinks here!)

 

Wendy nods anyway.

 

Irene sighs., and reaches across the table to take one of Wendy’s hands in hers. “Wendy, sweetie. Haven’t you stopped to think that maybe you can talk to Seulgi?”

 

As much as she didn’t want to hear it, it was probably time for her to hear it—that maybe she had long dreaded this day way before she actually dreaded hearing ‘maybe talk to Seulgi’. If that even makes sense.

 

“I wouldn’t know what to say,” Wendy mumbles as she sinks into her chair.

 

Irene smiles, and really, if there was anything that smile would have meant for her, that would be hope. “This is Seulgi we’re talking about so we’re understandably worried she might not know what to do either, but you are Wendy, and we both know she’d burn this school down and die with it than deliberately hurt you.”

 

Wendy cringes, but visibly relaxes. “You didn’t have to be too graphic, but I guess you have a point.”

 

Key word: ‘deliberately’.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The rest of the school week passes with Wendy failing at every attempt to ‘talk to Seulgi’, because the other girl was always raving on about Wendy’s singing club auditions.

 

“It’s going to be awesome!” 

 

She’s said that for about forty-nine times now, so Wendy pretty much drowns it out and pretends prepping cookie dough was a task she needed absolute focus on.

 

“I’m sure this will be your spark, you know?”

 

That. That caught her attention.

 

This was her chance. She’s absolutely sure it was.

 

“Turning point?” she says without much thought.

 

“Yup! Spark, turning point, catalyst, gay panic—whatever you decide to call it.”

 

Catalyst. She hated that word. It was like a punch in the gut to hear it from Seulgi.

 

“Seul?”

 

Seulgi hums nonchalantly as her hands dip into the bowl of dough.

 

“How about you?”

 

Seulgi looks to the side for a second, looking fairly perplexed.

 

“You know—spark of realization, something you think is suddenly changing for you?” Wendy bites her lip to hold back on asking more obvious questions or using words that Maleficent were keen on using. “Like life updates?”

 

Ugh.

 

“Um—“ Seulgi brings a hand to rub at her nape, and Wendy could already feel the disappointment seeping in. “No—“

 

Somehow, that hurt more than a ‘yes—yes, there is something’ or ‘yes, there is someone’, especially when she sees Seulgi obviously holding back.

 

“No, there isn’t,” and Seulgi smiles.

 

Wendy swallows a bit of consolation down the seemingly bottomless pit of her growing misery.

 

“Okay,” she says, and it sounded so quiet it had Seulgi moving a hand to her back.

 

“Hey, are you okay?”

 

“Yeah—“ she puts on a smile this time “—did you want to choose what I’m singing tomorrow?”

 

Seulgi beams, worry apparently pushed back at a fair distance. “I think you’ll nail an Adele or an Ariana.”

 

Sure, she’d probably nail songs like ‘Someone Like You’ and ‘One Last Time’.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On audition day, Wendy had to literally drag herself out of the comfort of being in the shadows.

 

She was doing this for Seulgi. 

 

Right.

 

That same person who was wearing both their backpacks, looking like a Squirtle, and was holding a ‘Wendy Rocks, You all ’ banner.

 

That same person who had to be kicked out of backstage, because she was scaring the others with the energy oozing out of her as she screamed her self-made cheer for Wendy (which explains why she insists on emphasizing on a banner how the audition facilitators ).

 

Wendy smiles at the sight of Seulgi jumping around when she eventually gets her turn.

 

Sometimes she remembers why it’s enough to just have Seulgi this way—more than enough.

 

Until she realizes that one Park Sooyoung eased herself into the tiny space between some random spectator and Seulgi, and her best friend smiles at the surprise

 

It was suddenly very difficult to not hear all these cheers, to not feel like everyone was looking at her.

 

Of all people, why did she have to bring Sooyoung? Irene would have been company that made better sense.

 

The club teacher was saying something, but Wendy could only see him mouthing; she couldn’t hear him at all. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the roaring crowd, or her heart that refused to back down from blinding the rest of her senses.

 

“Miss Son?” she hears him say as she did just the thing that could definitely make all this go away—

 

Bolt off of the stage.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Wendy!”

 

No, not Seulgi.

 

Anyone, just not Seulgi.

 

“Wendy, wait!”

 

She had longer legs. Of course, she’d catch up to her.

 

Wendy feels a hand on her wrist, and she stiffens—stops on her tracks and just plain stiffens.

 

“Wendy,” Seulgi tries again, a lot softer this time. “Hey.”

 

She feels her best friend tug her into an embrace, and for the first time since she was fifteen, she couldn’t feel any sort of comfort in it.

 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you. I‘ll take you home, okay?”

 

And she laughs bitterly at the thought of the other girl still not getting it.

 

“What is it you’re not telling me, Seul?” she finally manages to croak out, and she feels Seulgi go rigid. She hates it. She absolutely hates. She wasn’t about to let her lie again.

 

“I don’t—what are you—“

 

“Oh, for ’s sake, Seulgi!”

 

She pushes herself free from the taller girl’s embrace, and it feels like air was suddenly being pumped into her already convulsing lungs.

 

Seulgi’s hands were moving as if she wanted to try and hold her again, but she won’t be back there again. It was worse than a closet alone.

 

Wendy pushes her away—literally and figuratively.

 

“Tell me—“ she heaves in a breath because there was no gulping this down, especially when she knows she’s already obviously crying, “tell me or never talk to me again.”

 

“Wendy, I’m sorry. I was just too afraid to tell you—“ Seulgi bows her head, hiding her face underneath her hair. She only does that when she cries.

 

“—because you think it would hurt me?” Wendy scoffs, and angrily wipes at her eyes. “Well, good job.”

 

Seulgi stayed like that, head bowed and unmoving. 

 

And Wendy doesn’t dare look longer than three seconds. Her heart was already in pieces. She didn’t need it destroyed.

 

She walks away.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wendy’s phone had been vibrating non-stop the entire night. 

 

She had no plans in picking it up, and honestly, she intended to sleep in this weekend.

 

That’s if she even finds it in her to actually close her eyes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Hey, sweetie.”

 

Wendy feels her mattress dip, and her mother’s warmth spreading over her back.

 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

 

Wendy shakes her head.

 

“Ice cream?”

 

Another shake.

 

“Okay, then.”

 

There was movement, and the next thing she knows, she was in her mother’s embrace, and she finally lets herself cry all out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Honey?”

 

Wendy, still cooped up in her sheets, looks up from the book she had been trying to read since morning.

 

“I hate to bother you, but Seulgi is outside. It’s the first time she used the front door, so I thought it should be important.”

 

Wendy feels her heart thumping. It could be because of many other things—like her mom actually knowing that Seulgi had other means to enter their home. She side-eyes her dresser that supposedly hid Seulgi’s little entrance for a second.

 

Jackie gives her a look that practically said, ‘did you honestly think I wouldn’t know?’

 

Silence.

 

“Okay, I’ll tell her to come back another day.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Monday arrives a little too quickly, and Wendy was unfortunately the kind of student that would never skip classes no matter the consequences.

 

She comes early to avoid practically everyone, drowns out Mino at maths, and internally cringes when Miss Choi pats her on the head and tells her she appreciates her.

 

Chemistry starts and the moment Sooyoung shows up at the door, she immediately regrets coming to school—

 

Or so she thought.

 

Because that same girl goes straight to her, takes the notebook on her desk, rolls it into a pipe, and hits her on the head with it.

 

“Ow! What the hell—ow!”

 

Another hit.

 

She stands up fuming, and it does nothing to intimidate the taller girl because she hits her again.

 

“, talk to Seulgi.”

 

Wendy looks at her indignantly. “Who gave you the right to—ow! That’s it!”

 

“,” Sooyoung says again, sharper this time, “do you know how excited she was to show me last Friday just why she likes you so much?”

 

What?

 

Sooyoung crosses her arms.

 

“Excuse me—what?”

 

Sooyoung rolls her eyes. “I met a girl about two months ago, by the school fountain. She was dumber than you, because she tells me—a total stranger—that she had just made a wish, the same wish she apparently makes every single day.”

 

“What are you getting at—ow!”

 

“Do not interrupt me—“ and Wendy practically shudders at how similar Sooyoung and Irene could be in that aspect. “She makes the same wish every day since god knows when, and I’m damn sick of it. So, you better talk to her or I’ll hit you so hard it will make your ancestors dizzy.”

 

Wendy looks at Sooyoung blankly, and blinks once.

 

Twice.

 

Thrice.

 

Then it hits her. 

 

Seulgi’s bouts of emotional evasiveness, her insistence on ‘gay panic’ despite how out of context it seemed, her usage of that time she blows a hole into Wendy’s wall and into Wendy’s life as her example for gay panic, her brash stunt at Wendy’s maths class, and her alleged allergies to commitment. It all clicks, most especially the words: ‘I’m sorry. I was just too afraid to tell you.’

 

It hits her like a train and she felt like crying at how badly she carried the whole thing, she literally groans into the heavens.

 

“Oh, god,” Wendy says as she felt the very core of the earth burst through the floor and shoot right up her spine. “Oh, god. What have I done?”

 

Sooyoung mouths a ‘finally’ skyward. “Now, go or so help me I will chain you to each other.”

 

Wendy nods vigorously, because she knew that wasn’t an empty threat at all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She finds her.

 

Singing with the Christian Club at the school fountain.

 

Seriously?

 

The girl in question’s eyes immediately light up the soonest she spots her. She stands up, but looked positively afraid to come closer like a single step might drive Wendy away.

 

Wendy breathes in deep, and closes the distance herself.

 

“Hey, Seul—“ she blinks at how tall Seulgi seemed. She doesn’t even remember when she got much taller than her. “I’m really sorry.”

 

Seulgi holds up a hand. “It’s okay. I deserved it.”

 

Then, there was a little air of silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable at all, because this was Seulgi—

 

—the same girl who always cheered her on, the same girl she probably loved for most of her life, and the same girl who probably felt the same.

 

“So, did you wish for anything today?” Wendy asks as she takes one of Seulgi’s rather tiny hands. 

 

“Pretty much the same thing yesterday—“ Seulgi says with a shy little smile and a blush dusting her cheeks “—and all the other days.”

 

“And that is?”

 

“Will you hit me if I can’t say it?”

 

“Probably.”

 

Seulgi nods, looking more determined than she did minutes ago. She makes a little huff, as if cheering herself on, and the next thing Wendy knew, Seulgi’s free hand was on her chin, and her lips were on hers.

 

Well.

 

She can’t possibly hit Seulgi now.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wendy learned a lot of things that week. Some of them would be the following: one, Irene, Sooyoung and that fifthsqueak Yerim were conniving little rats—

 

Two, she loves kissing Seulgi. Or maybe both of them did because for the nth time on a Thursday, they were kissing again, only this time it was in Wendy’s bedroom, and that meant a lot of things—

 

“Wendy, honey—“

 

That would be her mother. Her mother who happens to have spectacular timing.

 

Wendy’s reflexes kicked in so suddenly that she literally kicks Seulgi off her bed, making the other girl fall with a loud thud and a yelp on the wooden floor.

 

The door dramatically swings open, revealing Jackie who was leaning on Wendy’s door frame, not looking very pleased. “Well, hello, Seulgi.”

 

“Hi, Jackie,” Seulgi says with a lame little wave the soonest her head pops out from behind the bed.

 

“Don’t you have homework?” Jackie asks, eyes practically burning holes at her daughter’s obvious girlfriend.

 

“Yes—yes, it would seem I do,” Seulgi says with a salute. She walks past Jackie and out of the apartment.

 

Jackie follows the youngster with her eyes until she was completely out of their home. Then, she turns her attention back to Wendy who was looking back at her looking absolutely small in her bed.

 

Well, it was only a matter of time.

 

“I like her,” Wendy finally speaks up.

 

Jackie nods. “I know. I like her, too.”

 

Wendy smiles so bright, that Jackie already feels warm at how happy her daughter seemed.

 

“Now,” she starts, finger pointing at the dresser, “my house, my rules, young lady. Seulgi uses the door from now on.”

 

It was Wendy’s turn to salute.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And here they were.

 

At another batch of auditions for the remaining school clubs with Seulgi going absolutely wild from her seat right next to Jackie.

 

“Seulgi, honey—“ Jackie attempts to pull Seulgi back down to her seat to no avail. “Honey, she’s auditioning for the chorale of the Christian Club. I don’t think we should—“

 

“WENDY SON WAS SENT DOWN BY JESUS CHRIST!”

 

“Oh, Jesus.” Jackie absolutely shrunk into her chair, already emptying her bag to use as a means to hide her identity.

 

And it got way worse the moment Wendy started singing.

 

“THAT’S MY FUTURE WIFE! HALLELUJAH!”

 

Good lord.