Dahyun’s neck was starting to ache. She shifted her weight from side to side, scuffing the toe of her shoe against the linoleum, worrying her lip between her teeth. The day-glo colors seared her eyes, and the books in her arms grew heavier with each passing second. She also needed to pee. She didn’t move.

Her eyes, though, were in constant motion, scanning the bulletin board with something feverish, bordering on anxiety. A vindictive combination of nerves and frigid AC sent shivers down her spine, raising goosebumps her sweater could do little to help. Students passed her, shouting down the hall and laughing with their friends. She was deaf to it all. The fliers papering the wall called out to her instead, tearing her attention from one extracurricular to another: Drama, Debate, Student Council, Football, Basketball, Baseball, Anime club. Each poster made it’s pitch, advertising teamwork or creativity or Fullmetal Fridays. She didn’t really want to join any of them. She didn’t move. 

Dahyun had always been the kind of kid no one knew how to deal with. If people were feeling charitable, she was “creative” or “a bit hyper”; if they were not, “loud,” “annoying,” and “nuisance” were not out of the question. Teachers at least had the decency to say so discreetly, in report cards and the occasional letter home when her antics went a little too far. Her peers had not been so considerate. 

If you’d asked kindergarten Dahyun how she felt about her lack of friends, she would’ve told you that her legos and stuffed animals were friends enough. But eventually, everyone outgrows their legos and stuffed animals are passed on to younger siblings. By the time she reached high school, Dahyun was completely unrecognizable as the hyperactive kid with perpetual skinned knees and marker stain tattoos on her arms. She sank back into herself, became quieter and more reserved. She accrued a shyness that had never been there before. The letters home from teachers were filled with nothing but the utmost praise for her work ethic and decorum. Friends were still not quite forthcoming, but she made an effort to not let that bother her. That isn’t to say it worked 100% of the time, but she told herself she was content.

In spite of Dahyun’s tentative internal peace, her parents harbored concerns. Even as they beamed with pride at every A+ and perfect piano recital, they still remembered the child that would sing loud songs to protest bedtime or try to jump her razor scooter over the creek. She’d been a handful, sure, but she’d been happy, and that was all that they wanted for her. They’d subtly been nudging her towards going out more, trying to find some way to express all the excitement she held inside, an outlet that might even allow her some friends. Dahyun wanted to make her parents happy, and maybe the loneliness got to her more than she wanted to admit. So she parked herself in front of the club bulletin board in the front hall before school began and she didn’t move.

She just needed to sign up for something. Anything. She just needed to reach out, stare down the challenge of those daunting blank lines beneath each flier, and confidently sign her name. Maybe even do it in cursive if she was feeling frisky. If she could just take that leap, she would come that much closer to overcoming her bashfulness once and for all. But she didn’t move.

The first bell of the day rang overhead, signaling five minutes until the beginning of first period. The crowds in the hallway started to thin out. Dahyun was shaken from the stupor she’d found herself in, and a sense of urgency started to seep in. Her eyes flicked frantically from club to club: Literary Arts Magazine, AV club, Yearbook, Art club—

“Hey, look at cheerleading!”

Cheerleading?

Dahyun was suddenly uprooted from her station in front of the board, ducking out of the way as a girl came barreling towards it, zeroed in on the bright purple flier printed with the JYP cheer logo. Curled back against the lockers, Dahyun watched through a curtain of her hair as the girl was joined by two of her friends, clearly not as intrigued by the anthropomorphic eagle vigorously shaking pom poms that graced the center of the poster as she was. In a second, Dahyun recognized them, their purple and white uniforms, and prayed that the invisibility that had carried her since middle school wouldn’t fail her now. Despite what movies might lead you to believe, cheerleaders at JYP were not renowned for their cruelty, but they were, in line with the stereotypes, very pretty. And pretty girls made Dahyun nervous, okay?

“We have to get to class,” Yoo Jeongyeon protested. 

Im Nayeon ignored her, flipping through the cheer sign up sheet, which had grown so long that extra pages had been stapled on to meet the demand.

“Look at how many people are trying out,” she remarked, awe in her tone.

Jeongyeon snorted. “Someone should’ve told them they’d have practice with you everyday, we could’ve weeded out the faint of heart.”

“Yoo Jeongyeon,” Nayeon gasped, slapping her friend’s shoulder, then smirking, flouncing her hair a little bit. “You know this list would be twice as long if they knew they were competing for the pleasure of my company.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

The duo dissolved into childish squabbling, but the third girl’s attention was fixed on the bulletin board. Concern lined Park Jihyo’s face as she scanned the list, and, flipping through it, a frown creased her brow. Just as Nayeon and Jeongyeon’s altercation was about to turn physical, she looked up.

“Will you two give it a rest for like one minute?”

They paused, and Nayeon took the opportunity to shove Jeongyeon away. “Ooh, Jihyo’s mad at you.”

Jihyo rolled her eyes and pointed at the board, directing their attention to a paper next to the cheer sign up. Dahyun had scanned that entire board for nearly half an hour, but had somehow glossed right over it. Now she squinted, trying to make out what was written on it. Jeongyeon answered the question for her.

“The mascot?” she asked. “She graduated last year?”

“Well, that ,” Nayeon said. “She was the best. Remember when she stole Coach Lee’s whistle last year and blew it any time he started talking?”

“I am going to miss her.” Jeongyeon shook her head regrettably. “Especially since we’ll actually have to listen to Coach Lee this year.”

“But look who’s signed up to replace her.” Jihyo pointed. 

Jeongyeon squinted. “Um, nobody?”

“Exactly!” Jihyo said, so emphatic Nayeon flinched back. “Tryouts are this afternoon and no one is signed up.

“I can’t say I really blame them,” Jeongyeon shrugged. “Being the mascot is kind of lame.”

“Oh my gosh, it’s perfect for you!” Nayeon exclaimed, much to Jeongyeon’s chagrin. “After tryouts we can get you fitted for the eagle head.”

“Oh, shut up.”

The second bell rang, signaling the beginning of class. Dahyun cringed. The cheerleaders seemed to share the sentiment. 

Nayeon groaned. “Damn it, we’re gonna be late.”

“If only someone had warned you this was going to happen,” Jeongyeon said.

“Okay, you know what?”

“What?”

“Guys!”

“Sorry, Jihyo.”

The trio headed down the hall, leaving Dahyun alone, returned to her post in front of the bulletin board. Her eyes no longer frantically scanned the options. For reasons she couldn’t explain, she was locked on the mascot sign up.

It was an insane idea. Jeongyeon hadn’t been wrong when she said being the mascot was kind of lame. Dahyun had been lucky enough to escape middle school relatively unscathed, flying so far under the radar she was practically on the ground. Why should the bullies taunt Dahyun, who quietly did her work and didn’t talk to anyone, when there were far easier targets to be had? The last thing she needed was to give them a reason to look at her twice. `

But she would be anonymous, a quiet, frustratingly-reasonable voice in the back of her mind whispered. And she could make people laugh, and get them excited. And she would be friends with people like Im Nayeon and Park Jihyo. 

Dahyun internally cursed herself and scrabbled through her pockets to find a pen. Beating back doubt and hesitation as it threatened to overwhelm her, she reached out and shakily scribbled her name on the first line of the mascot sign up sheet. She clicked her pen, looking around to see if any last stragglers in the hallway had seen what she’d done, and scampered away like a frightened rabbit, trying to find an excuse for her History teacher as to why she was late to class. 

The school gymnasium had never been a place Dahyun felt overly comfortable. Her awkward demeanor never translated into any great success at sports, and a lack of athleticism was something only stomachable when shared with friends. Without any to speak of, years of being the last pick for dodgeball and finishing the mile run behind everyone else left their scars. All of that compounded with general tryout anxiety was mixing a strong cocktail of nerves in the pit of Dahyun’s stomach, and she wasn’t sure how long she could keep it down.

When she’d walked into the gym, the group of girls sitting on the bleachers had only been about a dozen strong, but already far more intimidating that Dahyun was prepared to deal with. She sat just slightly to the side, hoping none of them would take notice, and listened silently to their chattering. They shared her fears, which set her at ease just slightly, but it seemed like they’d all been preparing for this tryout for months. Dahyun’s rash decison was starting to feel a bit less brave and reasonable, and a bit more completely stupid.

After about 15 minutes of stewing in her worries, the doors to the gym were closed and the conversations all faded to whispers. A girl with blonde hair, donning the JYP cheer uniform, stood in front of the group of 40 or so, clipboard clasped to her chest. 

“Hello!” she greeted brightly. There were some murmured responses, but Dahyun couldn’t even open . There was a resounding swoop in her stomach, clearing away the convulsing tangle nerves and leaving behind only lightly-fluttering butterflies. This girl was quite possibly the most beautiful person in the world. Her eyes lit up the room, the only two stars on an inclement horizon. Her smile, wide and unabashed, was dangerously blinding, but Dahyun couldn’t tear her gaze away. That is, until the girl looked right at her, at which point Dahyun blushed furiously and ducked, hardly lifting her head to hear the rest of the speech. 

“Welcome to tryouts,” the girl continued, the pep in her voice utterly infectious. “My name is Minatozaki Sana, and I’m the vice captain of the team this year. Our captain Sunmi couldn’t make it, so I will be conducting the auditions today. I hope you’re all excited and I can’t wait to see what you’ll bring to the squad!”

There was a light smattering of applause, which Dahyun weakly partook in, and then the tryouts began. Sana called out names from the list on her clipboard, would ask a couple of questions, and then the applicant would perform a quick routine. It was simple and casual, thanks in no small part to Sana’s preternatural ability to set everyone she spoke to at ease. Though everyone who performed did an excellent job, (notably a sophomore named Mina, quiet and graceful, who did a running flip and landed in a perfect split, so impressive that even the other girls trying out couldn’t hide their awe) Dahyun’s eyes hardly ever left Sana. There was just something magnetic about her. Her laugh echoed across the entire gym and the little cheers she would give to every girl sent equivalent little ripples through Dahyun’s chest. 

Distracted as she was, Dahyun didn’t notice the gym slowly emptying until Sana turned around to scan the bleachers and suddenly she was painfully aware that she was the only one left. Unable to avoid eye contact this time, Dahyun met Sana’s gaze hesitantly. The cheerleader grinned. 

“Hey,” she beckoned Dahyun closer, a little concerned crinkle in her brow, “did I forget to call your name or?”

“N-no,” Dahyun stammered, clenching her fists at her side as she shuffled towards Sana. “I, uh, I signed up to try out for the mascot.”

“Oh,” Sana giggled. “Silly me.” She flipped through the papers on her clipboard until she got to the last one. “Kim Dahyun?”

“That’s me.” The urge to chew at her lip was getting overwhelming.

Sana nodded, then looked back down at the list. “Well, looks like you’re the only one who signed up,” she said. “So, congrats! You’re the new Eddy the Eagle!”

“Really?” Dahyun asked, but there must not have been a lot of enthusiasm in her tone. Sana’s features bent into a little frown.

“You don’t sound all that excited,” she said. “What’s up?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Dahyun deflected. “I’m just nervous.”

“What are you nervous about?”

Dahyun shrugged self consciously. “I don’t know, I’m just worried I’m not going to do a very good job. It’s just that signing up was kind of a rash decision and it’s a lot of responsibility.” She didn’t know why she was saying all of this, but Sana just made her feel safe in ways she couldn’t explain, and the words were not asking for permission before they tumbled out of . “I mean, you didn’t even make me do a routine or anything, I might totally at this and then you guys are gonna have a y mascot and I’ll have ruined everything and let you all down and you seem like really cool people and I’d like to be friends with you all but you aren’t going to want that if I ruin everything and—”

“Dahyun,” Sana interrupted, bringing her hands up in a pacifying gesture.

“I’m sorry,” Dahyun said immediately, face burning with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to unload all of that on you. You’re vice captain, you’ve got other stuff to worry about.”

“Hey, no, that’s not why I stopped you.” Sana smiled gently. “You don’t need to be so worried, okay? It’s not that serious, and everyone on the squad is super nice and will totally help you if you need it. But I’m sure you’re going to do an incredible job.”

Dahyun couldn’t meet her eye, blush spreading across her cheeks. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Sana said. “And I would already love to be your friend.”

“Oh, no, that was stupid for me to say, you don’t have to—” Dahyun said hurriedly, flustered beyond belief.

“I want to,” Sana insisted. “Not taking no for an answer. And my first request of you as your friend is that you stop calling yourself stupid.”

“Ah, well,” Dahyun was struggling with words at the moment. “If you insist.”

“I do.”

Dahyun chanced a look up and discovered that Sana was far too close to her face. There might have been a foot between them, but it felt like nothing more than an inch. The air surrounding them was syrupy, sweet and thick with tension, and Dahyun didn’t know if the fluttering in her stomach was anxiety or excitement. It was as though she was standing at the edge of a cliff, about to tip herself forwards into the sky.

The door to the gym banged open, and Dahyun recoiled, flush with the unique sensation that she’d been caught . The girl who’d interrupted was thoroughly casual, wearing a tracksuit over a crop top with “JYP Cheer” stamped across it in bold lettering. Sana’s eyes lit up impossibly further when she saw her. 

“Momo!” Sana called. “Come here!”

The newcomer meandered over, hands in her pockets. “I thought tryouts would be over by now.” 

“They are,” Sana said. “But I’d like to introduce you to someone.” She turned back to Dahyun, who hoped the signs of her surprise had been sufficiently hidden. “This is Kim Dahyun, she’s the new mascot and she is going to be incredible.”

Dahyun nearly folded in on herself under the pressure of that introduction, but Momo didn’t seem to notice. “Oh, really?”

“I wouldn’t say all that,” Dahyun said nervously. “I mean, yes, I am the new mascot, but we can only hope I’ll do as well as Sana believes I will.”

“Hey, don’t put yourself down,” Momo said. Her smile could almost rival Sana’s. Almost. “I bet you’ll be amazing. I mean, Sana said so, and she is an excellent judge of character.”

Sana glowed at the compliment. “Aw, babe.”

Babe?

Momo wrapped an arm around Sana’s shoulders and pecked her on the cheek.

Oh.

“Well, if I’m going to be seeing you at practice every day, I should properly introduce myself.” Momo stuck out a hand. “Hirai Momo, student choreographer of JYP cheer and Sana’s girlfriend.”

Ah.

Dahyun limply returned the handshake, trying not to let any emotion show on her face. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Momo returned. “Anyways, we’ve got a movie to catch, so we gotta bounce.”

“Alright then.” Dahyun couldn’t deny she was relieved the interaction was over. “Goodbye.”

“See you around,” Momo returned.

“Bye, Dahyunnie!” Sana called as they headed out the door. “We’ll see you at practice!”

Dahyun’s heart sank. Practice. She sat down hard on the first row of the bleachers, hands cradling her cheeks, and let out a deep, mournful groan. How was she going to survive practice everyday with the girl she was pretty sure she was in love with and her girlfriend?

The next few weeks represented the most dramatic shift of Dahyun’s life. Everywhere she looked, it was one change after another, rapid fire and inconsistent, a turbulent sea in which she was barely staying afloat. One wouldn’t think being recruited as the school mascot would have had such great effect, but nevertheless, Dahyun’s world was careering right off of its axis.

The first twist, unlikely though it had seemed, was that Dahyun found she actually liked being the mascot. She really liked it. And she was an absolute natural, taking to the role like she’d been preparing for it for her entire life. She loved everything about it. She loved the energy, the ceremony, the t-shirt cannon. Despite all of her anxieties, it just came easily, never an awkward pause or a missed beat. She could dance like a fool, nearly bounce off the walls with excitement, and not lose steam. When the costume came off was another question, but for two hours at a time, she was the life of the party. And she really liked being the life of the party. 

Other people seemed to be liking it too. Another drastic change she experienced was the sudden loss of her invisibility. Sure, it would be hard for anyone to miss a giant bipedal eagle hitting the whoa, but being noticed was only the half of it. She wasn’t simply noticed, she was sought out. When she was in costume, students would come up to her for selfies, reach out to highfive her whenever she passed. Sure, they might think being the mascot was a little lame, and they didn’t know it was Dahyun underneath all those feathers, but that somehow made it even better. Dahyun never had to be shy or worry about being accepted. She was just Eddy the Eagle, everybody’s best friend. 

Friends. That was also one of the changes. Even in her most solitary of days, Dahyun had never been one to mope on her lack of companionship. Sure, it hadn’t been fun being alone every afternoon, doing homework weeks in advance because there was simply nothing more worthwhile to fill her time. But it never really hit her how lonely she’d been until suddenly she wasn’t anymore. Until she spent every afternoon at practice, surrounded by people and excitement and energy, the furthest from alone she’d ever been.

Sana hadn’t lied when she’d promised that everyone on the squad would be welcoming. Even though she was only the mascot, even though she was the only freshman on the team, even though there were a dozen other girls seemingly infinitely more outgoing and talented, it was impossible to feel left out. Just as everyone was smoothly integrated into the routines, each member had their place in the crazy riot that was the JYP Cheer Squad. Nayeon and Jeongyeon were constantly bickering, but also caring and gentle with the new recruits. Mina was just as fresh as Dahyun, incredibly talented in a wholly modest way and never reluctant to offer help. Jihyo was passionate and determined, pushed you hard but supported you every step of the way. And Sana… 

Sana was the sunshine. She’d held firm in her dedication to make Dahyun feel nothing but comfortable and appreciated on the squad. At practice each afternoon, she forwent her position at the front as vice captain, instead choosing to sit next to Dahyun while Sunmi led the practice. She whispered little comments to her, a proximity that sent shivers down Dahyun’s spine. At pep rallies, when the squad performed their routine and Dahyun sat on the sidelines, waiting for her cue, hardly a minute passed that Sana didn’t send her a smile or a heart or, most devastatingly, a wink. Upsettingly, under these circumstances, Dahyun’s little crush refused to be squashed and instead was nurtured, each day blossoming further until it hardly fit within the confines of her chest. 

Dahyun was by no means a stranger to crushes. Most girls who’d given her so much as a glance received their due week of hopeless pining and longing glances, before the reality of unrequited kicked in and she moved on. But she was stuck on Sana. The feelings stubbornly refused to dissipate, despite the fact that this was probably the most unrealistic, unattainable crush Dahyun had ever fostered. Because when Sana sat next to Dahyun during practice, she was actually sandwiched between Dahyun and Momo, her head cradled in the crook of Momo’s neck, her comments shared between them. Dahyun received winks, Momo received kisses. It admittedly stung, but what was most upsetting was that Dahyun couldn’t even hold harsh feelings towards her rival for Sana’s affections. Dahyun simply wasn’t the type to be bitter and Momo simply was too likeable. 

All in all, being recruited as the mascot was throwing Dahyun off of the deep end, kicking her out of her comfort zone. In times of great turbulence, she found haven in the tried and true, returning to her roots.

The JYP library was altogether rather unassuming. It was neither large nor extravagant, and it was mostly avoided by the population of the school due to traumatic affiliations with homework and desperation. Dahyun found it quite homey.

She settled herself at a table, cracking open a book and taking small bites of her sandwich, careful not to let any crumbs stray into the binding. The low hum of the air conditioning lulled her into a near hypnotized state, deeply absorbed in the book before her. Thanks to the yawning emptiness and legions of militant librarians with their strict no-talking policy, the library could come to resemble a mausoleum, fathomless and echoing silence, permanent and unbreakable.

There was a loud thunk of a book being placed on the checkout counter. Dahyun was broken from her haze, looking up to see a sight never before beheld. Momo, eyes wide, pouting at a stone-faced librarian.

“Please,” she pleaded. “I need this book for my next class.”

“You have four overdue books checked out, Ms. Hirai,” the librarian scolded. “I can’t let you take this.”

“But I need it,” Momo protested. She seemed to be growing more desperate with every second. “I swear, I have all the others at my house, I just keep forgetting to bring them in. You’ll have them by tomorrow, I just need this one right now.”

The librarian was stern as ever and Dahyun watched as all the hope in Momo seemed to wither. Dahyun would never be able to explain what overcame her in that moment.

“What if I check it out?” she asked, so quiet they almost didn’t hear her.

“What was that?” the librarian asked. At the sight of Dahyun, Momo lit up, her pout blooming into a bright smile.

“I’ll check the book out,” Dahyun repeated. “You know me, I’ll make sure it’s back in two weeks.”

The librarian still seemed skeptical, but she couldn’t seem to find a reason why Dahyun couldn’t check the book out. On unsteady knees, Dahyun walked over and slid her library card across the desk. The librarian scanned the book, suspicious and uptight, as only a librarian who’s been conned out of a good reprimanding could be, and left in a huff as soon as the process was complete. Dahyun’s heart was racing, like she’d run a marathon or done something she wasn’t supposed to for the first time in her life. It felt incredible.

“Thank you, Dahyunnie!” Momo exclaimed, pulling her into a crushing hug. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“Don’t mention it,” she choked out. Momo seemed to realize her own strength and released her grip. “It seemed like you really needed it.” Dahyun turned around, heading back to her table where her book and sandwich were waiting for her, but found herself being tailed.

“We were supposed to get this book so we could analyze it as a class, but I kept forgetting to buy it. Kind of like how I kept forgetting to bring in my overdue books,” Momo laughed self consciously. “But I promise, I’ll bring them all in tomorrow. Just for you.” She sat down, making herself at home in Dahyun’s little bubble of book and sandwich and silence. “So, what are you doing in here?”

“Uh,” Dahyun stalled. “Eating lunch.”

Momo frowned. “In the library?”

“Yeah,” Dahyun turned her eyes on the simulated woodgrain of the tabletop. She knew it was a cliche loser move to eat lunch alone in the library, but she really didn’t need to be called out on it. “You saw, I’m friends with the librarians, they gave me permission.” ‘Friends with the librarians,’ try to say something even lamer next time.

“No, not that,” Momo said. “I mean, why don’t you come eat at the cheer table?”

“Oh,” Dahyun was lost for words. The cheer table was the Mount Olympus of JYP High, for the mere mortals to gaze upon but never reach. The few times Dahyun had ventured out of the library and hazarded a trip to the cafeteria, the mere aura of the table had been enough to intimidate her. The idea of sitting there was genuinely unthinkable.

“We’d all love to have you,” Momo continued. “Jeongyeon has been dying to show you some meme video she thinks you should incorporate into your part of the routine. And Sana obviously never stops talking about you.”

There was no malice in the way she said it, but Dahyun couldn’t help but feel guilty at that. It was bad enough that she was harboring feelings for Momo’s girlfriend, Momo didn't have to be so nice to her about it. Clearly she didn’t know the true extent of Dahyun’s feelings, or else she would never be this kind. 

“That’s really nice of you to offer,” Dahyun said, trying to keep the color in her cheeks to a minimum. “But I don’t know, I didn’t think I was really, you know, part of that.” She couldn’t make the words come out the way she wanted, not with Momo looking at her with such sincerity.

“Part of what?” she asked gently.

“Sitting at the lunch table, talking outside of practice,” Dahyun stammered. “I just thought, I assumed…” She coughed. “I’ve never really done that before.”

“You’ve never eaten lunch with people before?” Momo asked, not in a scathing way, just being her genuine, slightly-confused self. It was still difficult to hear out loud. Dahyun shook her head, biting her lip and begging for God to strike her down where she sat.

Momo’s brow furrowed and the moment dragged on. Desperate to ease the awkwardness, Dahyun started rambling. “I don’t know why I told you that, I’m fine, it doesn’t really matter-”

“You know, I never really had a lot of friends other than Sana,” Momo interrupted. Dahyun fell silent. “She was always the loud and friendly, outgoing one. I was quieter, never branched out all that much.”

“Have you known each other for a long time?” Dahyun asked.

“As long as I can remember,” Momo said. “We were in kindergarten together, friends throughout all of elementary and middle school. I only started cheer because she begged me to do it with her. Of course, I’m super thankful for that now, I never would’ve discovered how much I loved it without her push.”

Dahyun heard some echoes of her own experience in Momo’s words, and out of nowhere decided to do the most masochistic thing possible.

“How’d you guys start dating?”

At this, Momo’s face melted into the dopiest smile imaginable. “We were always pretty much dating, without even trying. You might’ve noticed that we’re kind of touchy?” 

Dahyun had to chuckle, because “kind of touchy” didn’t even begin to describe the amount of PDA the cheer squad was subjected to every practice. Momo rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, well, if you think it’s gross now, imagine what it was like before we were dating. Doing all of the same stuff, just with no feelings to excuse it with. Of course, I realized there were feelings when we were in middle school. But I didn’t tell Sana anything. It could have ruined everything so quickly. I mean, she was my best friend in the world, I knew she wouldn’t be mean about it, but if she didn’t feel the same way, I was doomed. So I just decided not to tell her, I thought it would be easier.

“Then we got to high school. Everything romance related got way more intense. Sana never really talked about crushes with me, which I always thought was kind of weird, but I was also totally okay with avoiding that subject altogether. She dragged me to a Halloween party during freshman year. I was wearing some lame costume from Monsters Inc. and she was dressed as Mera, you know, the girl from Aquaman?” Momo grinned sheepishly. “I don’t want to be weird and say too much, but she had on a skin-tight body suit and a bright red wig.” Dahyun started to blush at just the thought. “She looked incredible. So, of course, I had to be dumb and get all sloppy drunk.”

“You confessed to her while drunk?” Dahyun asked, a little aghast.

“No, of course not,” Momo said. “I didn’t confess, I just kissed her.”

Dahyun’s jaw dropped, and Momo was quick to defend herself.

“That’s just how we are!” she insisted. “We never did a lot with words, it was more about action. But, anyways, she kissed me back, revealed she’d been in love with me since kindergarten and apparently I was late to the party, and we’ve been together ever since. The end.”

“Wow.” Dahyun couldn’t find the words for how she was feeling. On one hand, that was an unbelievably cute story and the stars Momo got in her eyes whenever she talked about Sana were incredibly endearing. On the other, another heaping scoop of guilt and desperation was added onto the pile quickly growing in Dahyun’s chest. If Momo had been worried about losing Sana because of her feelings, the worry was ten-fold for Dahyun. Not only would she lose Sana, but also Momo, and the entire cheer squad. And dear God, they were in a relationship, why did she have to feel this way?

“Yeah,” Momo said. She returned to normal, the haze of love disappearing from her eyes. “Anyways, what I was trying to tell you is that it’s okay if you’ve never had friends to sit with at lunch before. And it’s okay if you want to just keep eating alone in the library. But the girls would really love to have you. They all think you’re hilarious and want to get to know you better. You could just try it out for a day, see if you like it? Or I could come eat lunch in here with you.”

“Oh, you don’t have to,” came Dahyun’s immediate reply.

“Do you not want me to?” Momo asked. It’s not as though she was being purposefully pouty to make Dahyun feel guilty, but that’s just the kind of person Momo was.

“No, it’s not that,” Dahyun said, and as the words left , she was shocked to find that they were not a lie. This lunch, though less silent and more emotional than any other Dahyun had experienced, had actually been… sort of nice. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

Momo nodded cheerfully. The smile she gave then matched the one she was wearing the next day, when Dahyun approached the cheer table with all the confidence of a baby deer learning how to walk.

“Hey!” Momo greeted, unwinding her arm from her girlfriend’s shoulders. Sana looked up to see what had stolen her attention and immediately brightened.

“Dahyun! Come sit next to me!”

Just managing to take the unoccupied spot on the bench next to Sana before her legs gave out, Dahyun sat rigidly straight, fidgeting with her lunch box and generally feeling overwhelmed. 

Sitting across from her, Jeongyeon grinned. “Dude, thank god you’re here. Nobody at this table appreciates my tiktoks like you do.”

“That’s because they’re trash, Jeongyeon.” Nayeon smiled kindly at Dahyun. “Don’t feel the need to humor her, it will only make it worse.”

“Shush.” Jeongyeon shoved her phone across the table at the same time Jihyo began to berate Nayeon for being too harsh. In spite of the nerves, Dahyun found herself snorting with laughter at every video Jeongyeon showed her. Slowly but surely, the tension began to melt away. Nayeon dragged her into a debate about skittles flavors that went on for entirely too long, and Mina slid half an orange her way when she caught her glancing at it. Sana, as always, was a ball of energy almost too bright to look at, and every time their arms so much as ghosted next to each other, Dahyun felt a subtle ebb and flow in her stomach, gentle and comfortable. She kept flicking her gaze to Momo, anxious that, by some magnificent feat of telepathy, she would catch on to Dahyun’s less-than-platonic feelings for her girlfriend. But she just smirked, giving Dahyun a look that said, You see? Eating lunch with other people isn’t all that bad. I told you I was right . And yeah, Dahyun supposed, she had been a little bit right. 

As Dahyun’s time with the cheer squad progressed, she steadily became more comfortable with the idea of having friends. It stopped being as big of a shock when someone would wave at her in the hallways, she became more accustomed to getting texts and knowing what to respond to them. Her parents took note of her newfound confidence and were flush with pride after seeing her brightness squandered for so long. They seemed to think that this mascot thing was the best thing that had ever happened to her. And Dahyun was inclined to agree.

Of course, she loved performing and making students smile, but her secret passion stubbornly remained. Sana never stopped being friendly and Dahyun never stopped pining after her. It did become easier, a bit less desperate after a while, but that was not through any growth on Dahyun’s part. If there was any sort of success in their relationship, it was entirely due to Sana and, to Dahyun’s neverending surprise, Momo.

The two juniors had been nice to Dahyun since their first meeting, but by the end of the year, they were going a bit further than nice . Dahyun found herself included in nearly everything they did. She spotted for them during practice, rode in Momo’s car to get smoothies on the weekends, received daily, emoji-drenched texts from them in the group chat Sana had started for them. She didn’t want to surrender herself too much to delusion, but Dahyun began to fancy herself special to them. There were even moments when it felt like maybe, just maybe, she was a part of their relationship. Not that she lingered too long on those moments, thought about them late at night, fantasized about a world where she could go further than just a hand-hold when Sana forgot her gloves and Momo was being playfully fickle. No, she didn’t really think about them all that much. It was just wonderful to feel included.

The year passed by faster than Dahyun ever would have thought possible, but it was also probably the best year of her life. And the universe has that policy, where the worst of times seem to drag on for an eternity and the best never seem to stick around. It was the last pep rally of the year, a grand send off for the seniors and a huge celebration of no-more-homework for everyone else. The cheer squad had really pulled out all the stops for this last routine, Momo’s talent for choreography shining through every move, and Dahyun admired them from the sidelines as she waited for her cue. She really felt proud for what she was able to contribute to the squad. She’d never felt the joy of being on a team before, and now that she had, she wasn’t looking forward to giving it up for the summer.

But, she thought to herself as she rushed out to join the squad, she didn’t really have to give it up. Nayeon had already announced her plans to invite them to her beach house and Jihyo insisted that she would write a letter every week from her summer-long Model UN summit. And Sana and Momo made no signs of slowing down their affections any time soon. 

Dahyun finished her dance with a flourish, striking a magnificent pose, and the crowd went wild. It was probably the schools-end energy going to their heads as opposed to Dahyun’s flawless dance moves, but a golden feeling lit up her chest nonetheless. The feeling refused to dim; when Sana and Momo congratulated her on a dance well done with twin kisses to the beak, it grew so bright that it threatened to burn up the suit from the inside out. 

Long after the final bell had rung and most students had fled the school for the warm embrace of summer break, Dahyun was trudging through the darkened halls, lugging a 50-pound eagle suit and a smile that refused to slip from her face. She’d stuck around with the rest of the squad to help clean up, and even after the strenuous feats of cleaning she’d partaken in, a balloon of elation continued to swell in her chest. 

After nearly losing her fight with the mascot costume as she wrestled it into the storage closet, Dahyun headed back to the locker room to collect her backpack. The door was propped open, meaning she didn’t need to track down a janitor to unlock it for her, and this seemed to her a remarkable of good luck. She was carried through the door by high spirits and rounded the corner with a spring her step, only for the sight she discovered to promptly and succinctly burst her bubble.

Sana had Momo pressed up against the lockers, and they were locked at the lips. Dahyun’s eyes blew wide, her stomach dropping to the floor. Her gaze darted to Momo’s hand under Sana’s shirt and the hem of her uniform slowly drifting upwards. She caught a glimpse of Sana’s tongue, and Momo’s subsequent moan made her let out a pathetic squeak. 

“Oh my god.” 

Momo broke from the kiss, meeting Dahyun’s shocked gaze with what might have been bashfulness. 

“What?”

Sana turned around, brow furrowed, but seeing who it was, she relaxed into an easy-going smile .

“Oh, hey, Dahyun,” she said, still a bit breathless. Her hair was mussed, and on any other occasion, Dahyun might have wanted to reach out and smooth it down, but this was unlike any other occasion. Dahyun had never felt so out of place in her life.

“Sorry you had to witness that,” Momo joked, adjusting the straps of her top. 

“Heh,” Dahyun chuckled weakly. “You don’t need to apologize. I mean, you guys practically make out every practice, anyway.” She hoped desperately that she was coming across as casual and totally unfazed, but suspected that wasn’t the case. Every word left a bitter taste in . 

“What can I say, if you had a girlfriend this hot, wouldn’t you be all over her?” Sana giggled, snaking an arm around Momo’s waist and pulling her closer. Dahyun felt like she couldn’t breathe.

Momo grinned in response, bringing her own arm around her girlfriend’s shoulders. She cast a look Dahyun’s way. “Did you forget something in here or?”

“Oh,” Dahyun broke from her stupor, prying her eyes away from Sana’s flushed collarbones and Momo’s glitter-painted fingernails. “Yeah, I just left my backpack in my locker. I’ll be out of your hair in just a second.”

“We should probably get going anyways,” Sana said, disentangling her body from Momo’s to pick up her own discarded backpack. “Do you want a ride, Dahyunnie?”

“Oh, no,” Dahyun said, busying herself with her combination lock to avoid making eye contact. She was a horrible liar. “My mom’s coming to pick me up.”

Momo pouted. “But I thought we were going to get ready for the party together.” 

Dahyun fumbled nervously with her backpack, heaving it out of the locker and pretending to search through it for something. 

“I don’t think I’m going to go to the party actually.”

She had actually been looking forward to this party for months, something both juniors knew all too well. Momo’s pout deepened.

She got closer, spoke more carefully. Dahyun really wished she wouldn’t. 

“Does this have anything to do with the insecurities we talked about? Because I guarantee, everyone at the party will be ecstatic to see you there.”

Dahyun looked up shyly, facing down Momo’s concern. God damn it, why did she have to be so nice all the time? She was so caring and pretty and perfect and no wonder Sana liked her so much. It was so frustrating, but so heartwarming at the same time.

“No, it’s not any of that,” Dahyun said. “I’m just not feeling up to it. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, don’t apologize,” Sana said. “We don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with. We’ll text you later, okay?”

Dahyun met Sana’s eye for only a second before she couldn’t handle it any longer and dropped her gaze back down to the floor. “Okay.”

“See you, Dubu!”

The locker room was empty, and Dahyun’s chest felt unbearably tight. She screwed up her face, grasp tight around the tide of tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. Why was she even upset? She knew they were dating, she knew they probably made out sometimes. She knew that she was just their friend. Why was this hitting her so hard?

Because you let yourself think you were something more.

Well, not anymore. 

Dahyun sniffed, pulling herself out of her thoughts and on to her feet. This, painful though it may be, was a necessary wake up call. The universe could not send a more obvious sign. Something had to change, and it had to change soon. She shouldered her backpack, coughing to loosen the choking feeling in , and left the locker room, texting her mom to ask for a ride home.