MINA’S POV 

I met Nayeon one rainy afternoon during my junior year in high school. Soccer practice just ended when suddenly there is a downpour. Everyone hurried towards the closest shelter they can find except for one: Nayeon. She just casually walk-off the entire length of the field unbothered by the rain that’s now starting to soak her clothes. When she reached the shed where I was standing, she only smiled with a shrug on her shoulders and told me she doesn’t have an umbrella.

Not thinking twice, I offered mine, and regretting it instantly seeing she is already drenched. I wanted to give myself a slap on the head. But instead of stating the obvious, Nayeon just flashed an even wider smile exposing her bunny teeth and said, “Let’s go together.”

Cute

I learn to rely on Nayeon throughout the years. I value her opinion the most. And doing things together became a second nature to me. We are inseparable that our closeness was often suspected to be more than friendship. But we were not in a romantic relationship. We’re buddies, best of friends.

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However, when she had her first official girlfriend, I’m introduced to a feeling I never knew before and never wanted to learn – jealousy.

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The sourness I am feeling can’t be described in simple words. Closest I could relate it to is that feeling of having a hundred rotten sour lemons at the pit of my stomach. They were only together for a month and when they broke up, I had this strong sense of happiness. I had to bite back a smile when Nayeon talked about how sad she was for them not working out. My happiness was short lived though as she got together with another girl after three months.

I like her, and I know she likes me, too.

However, why won’t Nayeon pursue me? Since she likes me, too, why won’t she make the first move?

Whenever she has a new girlfriend, my heart will break, and the tiny seed of doubt that this is an unrequited love starts to grow in my heart.

But if she doesn’t like me that way, why does she treat me so well?

I started analyzing Nayeon’s every move, each look; every touch, each smile. And I always end up with the same conclusion, she likes me more than a friend.

But why aren’t we one?

These conflicting emotions on top of the bitter possibility that I am only overthinki