Yoo Jimin never had time for anything else.

 

She’d always been swamped with student council duties, practices in her neighborhood swim team, house chores, and on top of that maintaining her grades to remain at the top of her class, a feat proven to be difficult to keep especially with a certain infuriating genius junior getting advanced math classes and overtaking her seemingly without much effort. Frankly, it wasn’t much of a problem. The girl was in a different year level and therefore won’t block Jimin from getting in the honor roll. However, it didn’t mean Jimin wasn’t irritated for placing second in every math quiz and exam.

 

Especially when said infuriating math genius was this lawless bright blonde haired ruffian who broke school rules left and right and bothered Jimin in every chance she gets.

 

Yoo Jimin never had time for anything else, but Kim Minjeong somehow always managed to squeeze herself in with ways Jimin would never have considered possible.

 

“Oh, hey, you’re here. I heard you were looking for me.”

 

Jimin stared at the human manifestation of her headache sitting in the student council office. It was irritating; the way she’s sprawled on the couch, munching on a chocolate bar as if she owned the place and especially (especially) her angelic face, seemingly faultless wide eyes innocently blinking up at Jimin.

 

How could someone who looked like heaven-sent be so demonic?

 

But then again, Lucifer was an angel too.

 

“Yo, pres?”

 

She tore her eyes off the girl and cleared , realizing she’s been staring. Yoo Jimin. Focus.

 

“Follow me.” she closed the door behind her, going straight to her desk at the far end of the room, separated from the rest of the area by a partition screen.

 

The officers watched as they passed. Just another day in the student council. Kim Minjeong was notorious for being a troublemaker but the thing was, teachers have always been lenient on her. They seem to be weak against the girl’s charms but not Jimin. She swore never to stoop that low. So Minjeong’s issues were always put in her already full plate, stressing her out more than she was supposed to take.

 

“You know, if you keep wanting to meet me in private, people are going to talk.” Minjeong teased.

 

“The student council office is hardly considered ‘private’.”

 

“Yeah, we got three walls and a divider. Sounds pretty private to me.”

 

Jimin rolled her eyes. “Suit yourself.”

 

She went about organizing papers and files she needed to work on for the day and sifted through her folder for Kim Minjeong’s records, pointedly ignoring said girl’s stare. It was a difficult feat to achieve when she kept looking at her like that. Did her eyes lift weights or something? Why did her gaze feel so heavy? Making Jimin feel small and hyperventilating so maybe even suffocated--

 

“You know, you could really use a chair around here.” Jimin glared at Minjeong when she sat on the tabletop, to which the girl only responded with a smile. “Finally, you’re looking at me. Hello.”

 

“Get off my table.”

 

“No.”

 

Jimin sighed. Let’s just get this over and done with. “Kim Minjeong,” she started, lacing her fingers on the tabletop with a disapproving frown. “How many times do I have to tell you to wear your complete and proper uniform?” she didn’t like how she had to crane her neck back to look Minjeong in the eye so she reclined on her seat instead, crossing her arms.

 

Minjeong glanced at herself, as if she didn’t find anything wrong with how she didn’t wear her necktie, had two slots on her blouse ed, and had one suspender slipping off her shoulder while the other hung down from her skirt.

 

“I look perfectly fine.”

 

Jimin clenched her jaw, breathed in and out. Patience. Yes, in a different context, she did look ‘perfectly fine’ however, she won’t ever say that aloud. “That is not the point here, Ms. Kim. The teachers have been complaining about it and if you keep this up, you’d eventually get detention.”

 

Minjeong shrugged, “Wouldn’t mind that either, as I happen to like the supervisor.” she winked.

 

Jimin would. She’s the supervisor. “How do you even slip through the inspection?”

 

“I don’t see why I would want to tell you that.”

 

Jimin sighed, massaging her temples. Headache. It’s always a headache with Kim Minjeong. “All you have to do is button up, wear your suspenders and necktie properly, and dye your hair black. Is that too hard?”

 

“The buttons and necktie chokes me, the suspenders slip off by themselves, and I didn’t kill my hair with bleach just to dye it back to black so to answer your question, yes, it is too hard.”

 

Jimin gaped at Minjeong’s audacity and huffed. It went like this every.single.day. Jimin was tired. What was she going to do with this girl who couldn’t even own up to her mistakes? What would it take for her to quit causing trouble everywhere?

 

Taking a deep breath, she finally said, “I better see you wear your uniform right tomorrow. Or else this will get to Mrs. Lee and you’ll have to clean the restroom for a week. Understood?”

 

Minjeong just shrugged, “So are we done yet?”

 

“Ms. Kim,” Jimin flipped over to the next page of offenses, “I’m afraid we’ve only just begun.”

 

She started reading out all the misconducts the girl had done: tardiness, cutting classes and leaving school grounds without permission, loitering around the campus, running around the halls, shouting in the corridors, being out of her seat without permission, talking back to teachers, unsupervised consumption of food and drinks in class, verbal assault, and even attempted arson. And that’s only for today.

 

As she read it out, Minjeong’s growing smile drove her to distraction. It’s all because of that dimple. Damned dimple. “What?” she snapped.

 

The girl shook her head, still grinning. “Nothing. It’s just amazing how long that list is. Like, wow, I really did all of that, huh?”

 

Jimin scoffed. “Are you even the slightest bit contrite?”

 

“Nope.” Minjeong replied, popping out the ‘p’. “In my defense, the classes are really boring and the only way to remedy that is by either cutting classes, leaving the school grounds, or go over to Yizhuo’s seat to chat but that discussion somehow turned into an argument that involved her chasing me down the hallway all because I enlightened her that Leonardo DiCaprio is, in fact, not that hot so I had to run and shout at her to stop chasing me, which, I am now remembering, she responded with a battlecry of her own so why the hell is she not doomed to clean the restrooms too?”

 

Jimin barely kept up with her commentary. Minjeong spoke so loud and fast that Jimin could hear the other student council members chuckle at her story. This was why the teachers have been complaining. Jimin would have protested too. The girl was downright obtrusive.

 

Minjeong raised a brow, one corner of her lips quirking up. “Are you sure you’re not calling me in everyday just because you want to see me?”

 

If there’s one thing Jimin admired about Minjeong, it would be her overflowing confidence. Where did she even get the audacity to ask such an atrocious question?

 

“Minjeong,” she started, tone even and reasonable, like how one would talk to a child because to be honest, Kim Minjeong was a complete child. “Right here, in this folder, is the list of offenses you commit every.single.day.” she paused and in a moment of intrepidity, added, “I think the question should be: are you doing these everyday just so you could see me?”

 

“And if I say yes?” Minjeong challenged, not missing a beat, the reversed question not throwing her off at all. “Will you finally ask me out on a date?”

 

Overflowing confidence. Minjeong never disappoints.

 

Also, that escalated quickly.

 

Jimin could sense the tense anticipation, knowing the entire office could hear their conversation, thanks to Minjeong’s loud voice.

 

Well, two can play this game. And Jimin would never lose. Not to Minjeong. No sir.

 

“And if I do?” she taunted, “Will you stop causing trouble everywhere?”

 

Jimin didn’t expect Minjeong’s answer that came in a heartbeat.

 

“Yes, I will, actually.”

 

Jimin tried to ignore the officers’ collective gasps (and her own suppressed indrawn breath) as she stared at the girl, trying to gauge if she’s serious or not. Minjeong’s eyes betrayed nothing as they continued to bore into hers. She wondered if Minjeong meant it. And if she did, what was Jimin supposed to do? Say no?

 

“Well?” Minjeong continued to provoke, “Are you down for it? Or are you too sober for this conversation?” somehow, somewhere in their heated exchange of jibes, she had leaned forward, one hand against the backrest of Jimin’s seat.

 

The latter did not falter--tried her best not to. One look at that slanted grin and Jimin knew exactly what’s happening. If Minjeong thought she could bait Jimin like that, she’s wrong. All she was after was to bring Jimin down, like everyone else.

 

She tore her eyes away, scoffing. “Over my dead body. Anyway, what do you have to say about the verbal assault and the attempted arson?” she changed the subject as obviously as a truck switching lanes.

 

The intensity in Minjeong’s eyes disappeared as she pouted. A feme fatale one second, and a baby the next. The duality of this girl never failed to surprise her. “Attempted arson? Blasphemy! Not everyone can be good at chemistry class!” she had fortunately straightened up as she threw a tantrum, otherwise one of those flailing hands would’ve hit Jimin.

 

Minjeong went into an entire tirade about how her lab partner was blind as a bat and read the notes wrong and how unfair it was that she, who had only been following her partner’s orders, was the one blamed for the fire that may or may not have melted down half of the counter.

 

Jimin hummed, unconvinced. “And what of the verbal assault?”

 

“Look, I agree that it was an unfortunate choice of words when I called that obnoxious, sorry excuse of a man a donkey. But! A donkey is also a symbol of strong will. And determination. So it’s not entirely obvious to me that anyone would take that as an insult, which he did. And that’s on him and his low emotional quotient.”

 

Jimin assessed if she’s joking or not--something she seemed to be doing a lot around her. But Minjeong was just pouting adorably, each blink of her eyes convincing Jimin little by little that yes, it’s not her fault and she did nothing wrong--oh my god, stop it.

 

“Minjeong, you made someone cry.”

 

“By calling him a donkey.” she deadpanned before making a face. “What in the world?”

 

Jimin pursed her lips to hold back a laugh. It was wrong, but it was also funny. She ran her fingers through her hair, pretending to look down on her papers so Minjeong won’t see the conflict on her face. “Mrs. Lee would like to see you for the last two offenses. Please proceed to her office now.”

 

Minjeong threw her hands in the air. “Hurray.”

 

Jimin watched her leave but before the girl could get past the partition, she remembered something and called her name, effectively making the girl stop on her tracks and give her an irritated look.

 

“What?”

 

Three strides was all it took for Jimin to reach her, standing a bit too close that Minjeong had to crane her head back to give her a bewildered look. “Uhh, what?” she asked again.

 

Jimin didn’t reply, opting to let her actions do the talking. She properly buttoned Minjeong’s uniform and fixed her suspenders, adjusting so it won’t slip. Then she took off her own necktie, missing Minjeong’s raised brows, and put it on the girl. That should do it. She had always been taught to lead others by showing them how it’s done instead of just telling them.

 

“Starting tomorrow, I better see you wearing your complete uniform properly.” Jimin said as she tied the cloth, “Do you understand?”

 

Minjeong rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

 

Jimin threateningly tightened the necktie, the harsh pull making the shorter girl stumble forward and hold on to her for balance. Jimin pretended not to notice the lovely fragrance of flowers. “Do you understand?”

 

Minjeong rapidly blinked. Not one of those faux innocent eyelash batting of hers. This one was more...flustered? Jimin couldn’t see the reason why but she looked like she was still processing the question and having a hard time doing it. Did she seriously not understand? She probably didn’t.

 

“I said, I better see--”

 

“I got you the first time, madam.” slender arms s around Jimin’s neck, the surprise in Minjeong’s eyes replaced with mirth. “And what if I say that I don’t understand?”

 

Jimin realized her folly too late. Minjeong’s face was already too close to hers in all her gorgeous glory, the fragrance of vanilla and jasmine replacing oxygen in her lungs. Her heart went wild. As it should. Anybody would be nervous to be this close to someone so pretty, right?

 

Right. Of course.

 

Fine, Jimin would admit (though never aloud), despite being the unwilling recipient of it almost everyday, she’s definitely not used to Minjeong and her flirtatious teasing that teetered along the lines of safe and dangerous, never crossing but frequently smudging that it drove Jimin to the brink of insanity, conflicted between smashing their lips together once and for all and pushing her away. Sometimes she wanted to do the latter, other times the former, but often, the urge to do both was strong.

 

It would’ve been nice if her academic intelligence extended to girls but no, when it came to such matters, straight A Jimin was definitely not straight and was lessened to nothing but a useless, panicking lesbian.

 

Not that she sees Kim Minjeong in a romantic light--heavens, NO, not at all. It’s just that she’s making her very confused with--

 

“What then?” Minjeong stood on her tiptoes so their breaths mingled together. “Will you help me understand?”

 

--with everything she’s doing to her. Aside from that, Kim Minjeong’s a child. There’s no way she would even consider--

 

The deft fingers playing with the hairs on her nape was driving her crazy. Can’t she finish a thought around here?

 

“I suggest you get off me this instant, Kim Minjeong.” she managed, though she didn’t like the way her voice wobbled faintly that revealed more than she’d like.

 

Minjeong tilted her head to the side, coy smile on her lips. “You don’t sound so determined.”

 

“I can charge you with harassment.” she threatened, “That’s punishable by expulsion.”

 

“Hmm, I don’t know about that…After all, you were the one who pulled me close, weren’t you?” Minjeong tilted her head, whispering in Jimin’s ear. “I have to admit, though. That was kinda hot.”

 

Normally, she would’ve come up with a comeback but the hot breath hitting her ear was in the way of her thought process. It’s annoying. Why wouldn’t she get off her? Her perfume was making Jimin dizzy.

 

“Hey, Jimin--oh.”

 

Both girls snapped their heads towards the newcomer who was frozen halfway through the partition, eyes wide and jaw agape as she took in the sight of Jimin and Minjeong in each other’s arms.

 

“Sorry. My bad. Carry on. I was never here. Bye!”

 

“Aeri!” Jimin called but the girl was already gone.

 

Minjeong chuckled, detaching herself from Jimin. “I warned you. People are going to talk.” she casually adjusted her necktie, as if nothing just happened.

 

“Not if I can help it.” Jimin grabbed her phone to tell Aeri to get her ABG back in there. Also so she could duck her head and hide her red face without looking suspicious because holy that was close.

 

“Yeah, well, good luck with that.” Minjeong patted Jimin’s shoulder, making the latter flinch. Minjeong laughed. “Jumpy. See you around, pres.” she winked and sauntered out of the office.

 

Jimin knees gave in and she collapsed on her seat, out of breath.

 

Goddammit, Kim Minjeong.

 

***

 

In the three years that she knew her, Kim Minjeong was never the type to be obedient. She was free-spirited, defiant, chaotic, and everything similar but she wasn’t acquiescent. She liked entertainment and only did things if she found them fun.

 

(One of those amusements was obviously teasing Jimin and thinking of it already makes her blood boil.)

 

So when Jimin saw her in the cafeteria the next day, she was more than surprised to see Minjeong wearing her proper uniform--all buttons done, suspenders worn, and necktie on. She still hadn’t dyed her hair back to black but it's progress, nonetheless.

 

“Whoa, is Minjeong seriously wearing her uniform?” Aeri had exclaimed just as they were about to leave the cafeteria.

 

Jimin had turned to see the miracle but stared for the girl’s laugh. Her laughter was enchanting, in a completely different way her smirks and lopsided grins were. And she looked great in proper uniform, she belatedly thought.

 

She must’ve been standing there, gaping like the idiot that she was, because Minjeong suddenly turned to her direction as if magnetized by her loud stare. Jimin looked away with a jolt, heart hammering in her chest as she bore holes on the random trashcan in the corner. Damn, did she notice? She noticed, didn’t she? She hoped to God she didn’t. She won’t let her hear the end of it if she did.

 

“So I caught you staring at me earlier at the cafeteria...” she could already imagine Minjeong’s lilting voice partnered by a slanted grin.

 

“Uh, Jimin?” Aeri prodded, “You okay?”

 

“Peachy.” Jimin abruptly nodded, shuddering. “Let’s go.”

 

She pushed the bewildered Aeri out of there. Halfway, for some reason that didn’t involve thinking, she dared to brave one last glance at the blonde.

 

Only to find her already looking back.

 

“.” Jimin almost dropped her tray.

 

Minjeong, still staring, tilted her head to the side--a move that reminded Jimin of a puppy--giving her a quizzical look like, ‘why are you being weird’ before breaking the law.

 

That smile has got to be illegal.

 

“?” Aeri echoed, yanking Jimin back to reality. “Did I just hear Yoo Holier-Than-Thou Jimin say, ?”

 

“Let’s just get out of here.” she dragged Aeri all the way out of the cafeteria, not slowing down until she felt that she distanced herself enough from Kim Minjeong.

 

“The hell was that all about?” Aeri demanded, twisting her arm out of Jimin’s grip, rubbing the offended skin.

 

“Let’s just say that girl’s my bad luck charm and I don’t like running into her.”

 

Fortunately for her, they did not have math classes that day. Otherwise it would only mean more of Kim Minjeong bugging her for what feels like eternity. Their seats were arranged alphabetically and therefore Yoo and Kim were supposed to be worlds away but Minjeong, rule-breaker that she is, would always find a way to bother Jimin. The latter would argue that’s the main reason why she couldn’t seem to overtake the girl in the class rankings.

 

“I wonder what’s with Minjeong today.” Aeri thought aloud, “She always complains about the uniform. Especially the necktie. She loathes the necktie. I’m surprised she’s wearing it now.”

 

Yesterday flashed in Jimin’s head, all too vivid. Featherlight touches, fresh fragrance of flowers, intimate warmth, and hot breaths--all because she tied that damned necktie. She shook the thought away before it could start replaying over and over in her head. Perhaps she should’ve tried harder choking her.

 

“Maybe she finally realized the importance of wearing it properly.” she said, forcing a shrug of nonchalance in her tone.

 

“Or maybe,” Aeri caught on, of course. “Something happened between you yesterday. Care to tell me anything, Ms. Yoo?”

 

“There’s nothing to tell.”

 

“Uh-huh.”

 

“It was just an accident.”

 

“Right.”

 

Jimin rolled her eyes, exasperated. “Seriously. Why do you sound so unconvinced?”

 

“Perhaps if you start telling me what actually happened then maybe I’d start believing you.”

 

“I already told you everything, Aeri.”

 

“As if I’d actually believe that you buttoned her shirt, fixed her suspenders, and lent her your own necktie only to, and i quote, “accidentally” got her all over you because you tried to choke her.”

 

Jimin threw her hands in the air, “Sometimes reality is harder to believe than fiction.”

 

Aeri paused. “Wait. So that actually happened?”

 

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you since yesterday, you dumb buff--”

 

“Yoo Jimin!”

 

Aeri’s laughter and Karina’s insult was cut short by Na Jaemin, president of the Sports Club, jogging up to them.

 

“No running in the hallways, Na.” Jimin automatically reprimanded.

 

“Oops, sorry. Anyway, here’s our proposal for the cultural festival.” he handed the folder, “Approve it, pres!” he said, giving Jimin a salute before speed walking away.

 

Jimin skimmed through the papers. “Hockey. Shooting. Horseback--is he out of his mind?”

 

Aeri peered over her shoulder. “There’s swimming.” she pointed out, “That’s one sport you can approve.”

 

Jimin nodded, making a mental note. “Jaemin and I need to sit and settle this. There’s only three months left until the festival and they still haven’t finalized anything. Which reminds me,” she turned to her best friend, “We’re going to have a meeting today and tomorrow after class, after I watch over detention. You should head home first.”

 

“I can wait for you.”

 

“Yeah, maybe if you won the election.”

 

Aeri laughed, “Yeah, no thank you.”

 

“Seriously. Why you went around telling people not to vote for you instead of the other way around is beyond me.”

 

“That’s because I didn’t want to. I only ran for the position because Minjeong blackmailed me into it.”

 

Jimin raised a brow but held back a comment. She actually didn’t know that little fact until now. Since when were Aeri and Minjeong friends anyway? She overruled the question as soon as she thought about it. Minjeong was that outgoing girl who knew everyone and is known by everyone. Of course she’d be friends with Aeri.

 

“I’m not letting her steal you from me.” she said, possessively clinging on to her friend’s arm who made a face.

 

“Nobody’s stealing me, Yoo.”

 

After their afternoon classes ended, Jimin went straight to her locker to grab her notes and homework. Aeri had choir practices. Usually, it would end right after detention and they would head home together. But not today, though Jimin would try to walk her friend to the school gate before heading to the student council office.

 

Jimin arrived at the empty classroom fifteen minutes early. She had gotten the list of students for today and to her chagrin, there was only one name on the paper. So much for her thinking the girl actually somewhat improved today.

 

She made herself comfortable on the teacher’s desk, stacking her homework by priority and neatly lining up the different writing materials she’d need for making notes while mentally preparing herself for the next two hours alone with none other than Kim Minjeong.

 

Supervising detention was actually beneficial for her, which was why she volunteered to do it. Fulfilling duties by sitting in a strictly quiet empty classroom was perfect for her. It meant she could study, do her homework, read books, and do her job as the student council president all at the same time.

 

However, there’s one small problem…

 

“Hey, pres.”

 

(Emphasis on small)

 

Kim Minjeong seemed to have a better attendance in detention than in her classes and Jimin felt like she had gum stuck in her hair.

 

“What did you do this time?” Jimin demanded as she took the girl’s detention slip.

 

Minjeong shrugged, “Disrupted a class. Nothing new.” she sat at her usual seat: third row, by the window. She still had her complete and proper uniform on, Jimin noted, though she kept pulling on the necktie. Did she really wear it the entire day?

 

Jimin read the note and raised a brow. “You yelled ‘YEAH I GOT AN A’ at the top of your lungs in the hallway during class hours?”

 

“‘ yeah’. That’s what I yelled. You forgot to read that first part.” Minjeong corrected. “Getting an A in chemistry must be celebrated.” she reasoned, already comfortable on her seat with her feet propped on the chair in front of her. “Where’s everyone?”

 

“This is everyone. Congratulations on getting detention all to yourself. No talking allowed starting...now. And please. Behave yourself.”

 

Jimin focused on the papers on her desk, hands on auto-pilot and brain running like a well-oiled machine, answering one question after another. She started unconsciously swaying her legs back and forth--a mannerism she developed whenever she’s feeling exhilarated. Being able to peacefully sit and study without being disturbed was absolutely her idea of bliss.

 

But, of course, she was forgetting that she’s in the same room as the human manifestation of chaos.

 

Kim Minjeong had been miraculously quiet and still. She was just sitting there, cheek propped on a knuckle. Except that she’s been staring at Jimin and it was getting uncomfortable. She didn’t notice at first but when she did, she hoped she didn’t.

 

Unable to handle it any longer, Jimin met her gaze with a glare. “Do you need something?”

 

Minjeong slowly shook her head, eyes not leaving Jimin’s for one second.

 

“Then why do you keep staring?” she demanded.

 

“You’re pretty.” Minjeong admitted with a straight face, “Two hours is too short. I can spend eternity staring at you.”

 

Her bluntness took Jimin aback. “That’s lame.”

 

“What’s wrong with telling the truth?” Minjeong challenged.

 

“No talking.” Jimin blurted, flustered.

 

“Yeah? You’re the one who spoke first.”

 

She frowned at the girl’s smirk before ducking her head to resume illustrating the process of meiosis and was in the middle of completing metaphase II when she heard clothes rustling followed by the sound of incoming footsteps. She ignored it, proceeding to anaphase II and managed to draw the chromatids before getting distracted.

 

Kim Minjeong had dragged a seat to the other side of Jimin’s desk, lying down on the tabletop as she blatantly stared at her.

 

Jimin instinctively leaned back, raising a hand to her face, suddenly feeling embarrassed. With the amount of stares she was getting, she was bound to get self-conscious. “What are you doing?”

 

“Grabbing the front seats to the best view in the world.”

 

“What the heck, go back to your seat.”

 

“Shh. No talking, remember?”

 

Jimin opened to give her a piece of mind but Minjeong made a zipper gesture across her lips and Jimin’s words got stuck in . Sorcery. This has got to be pure sorcery.

 

Huffing, Jimin resorted to ignoring her.

 

She had finished up meiosis when Minjeong started talking again. “So I caught you staring at me earlier at the cafeteria…”

 

Jimin inwardly groaned. Here it goes. Exactly like how she imagined. “No, you didn’t.”

 

“Yes, I did.” Minjeong insisted, “You were staring at me like I hung the stars in the sky or something.”

 

Jimin looked up to give her a disgusted look, only to see Minjeong’s smile grow and she realized that she just gave the girl exactly what she wanted: her attention.

 

“I wore my complete uniform today.” Minjeong proudly said, tone akin to a child bragging about a good deed, though Jimin couldn’t see why doing the bare minimum would be something to boast about.

 

Her eyes were back on her paper, resuming her task of explaining how mitosis and meiosis worked. “Good for you.”

 

Minjeong laid further down, her head beside Jimin’s notebook so the latter had no choice but to see her pouting face in the corner of her eye. “I look good, don’t I?”

 

“No talking, Kim Minjeong.” Jimin reprimanded without taking her eyes off her homework.

 

“Who cares? We’re already talking anyway.”

 

“I care. Now, please be quiet.”

 

“No.”

 

Jimin had to pause her work to give her an incredulous look. “No?”

 

Minjeong nodded. “No.”

 

Jimin frowned. “Why not?”

 

“It’s just us here. No one would mind.”

 

“I already told you. I would mind. In fact, I’m already minding so hard I'm this close to kicking you out of here except that I can’t.”

 

Minjeong suddenly giggled. “You’re cute when you’re mad.”

 

Jimin’s scowl deepened. She opened to reply but decided against it at the last second. She mustn't encourage this behavior.

 

“I wore my complete uniform today.” Minjeong repeated before Jimin could return to her homework.

 

“You already said that.” Jimin pointed out before she could stop herself, biting her tongue after because darn it she’s not supposed to be keeping this conversation alive.

 

“Well, don’t you have anything to tell me?”

 

Jimin’s phone buzzed, she briefly read the message before standing up. “Mrs. Lee wants to see me. Wait here. Mark will substitute me shortly”

 

She put her things back into her bag, ignoring the pouting Minjeong who stared at her like a puppy watching its owner getting ready to leave.

 

Something must’ve possessed her. Yes, that must’ve been it. When she did what she did and said what she said, it was definitely not her soul taking control of her body. Or perhaps it was the tiny ounce of sympathy she had for the girl.

 

“The uniform suits you.” she said as she stood, hesitance heavy in her pause until her hand moved without giving her brain a heads-up and the next thing she knew, she’s gently patting the girl’s head. “You did well.”

 

Or maybe she deserves the recognition, she thought as she gave the flustered girl a smile before leaving the room.

 

***

 

“You’re planning to wear a what now?”

 

Minjeong took her time chewing her cookie, holding up a finger signalling for Yizhuo to wait. It’s gym class and they were hanging around the bleachers, pretending to stretch when they’re actually just eating snacks Minjeong had managed to stuff in her sweatpants.

 

“A wig.” she finally answered after swallowing her food.

 

Yizhuo gaped at her so she took the opportunity to steal the cookie in her hand. “You’re insane.” her friend finally said, which she just replied with a shrug. “All this just because Jimin-sunbaenim complimented you?”

 

“And smiled.” Minjeong added with a nod, “You can’t leave the smile out. It’s quite important.”

 

Yizhuo stared at her for long seconds before deciding, “You’re a simp.” she said. “You should just dye your hair.”

 

Minjeong rolled her eyes. “I’m not that desperate.”

 

“Right.” Yizhuo drawled. “Why don’t you just ask her out?”

 

“No.”

 

“No?”

 

“Yeah, no.”

 

“Why no?”

 

“She’s supposed to be the one doing the courting.”

 

“...is this about that party again?”

 

Minjeong gave her a sideway grin. “Everything’s about that party.”

 

Yizhuo huffed in exasperation. “If by everything you mean the foundation of your delusional fantasies then okay, I’ll take it.”

 

Minjeong frowned, “Excuse me, I am not delusional.”

 

Yizhuo rolled her eyes at that. “Puh-lease. She was drunk.”

 

“There was no alcohol in that party.”

 

“The punch was definitely spiked.”

 

Not this conversation again, Minjeong thought but before she could launch a point-by-point tirade on how she was not anywhere near delusional because Yoo Jimin had, in fact, once called her beautiful before saying, and she quote, ‘requesting your hand in marriage, ma’am’, their teacher, Mr. Han caught them idling around and yelled at them to move or something. Minjeong wasn’t really paying attention.

 

“What are you doing after school?” Yizhuo asked, trying to balance a basketball on top of her head. They had scooted a tad bit away from the bleachers just to shut the beefy man up.

 

“Detention.” Minjeong didn’t even have to think about it. It’s like going to detention was part of her daily schedule. Mr. Han had turned to their direction so she immediately grabbed the nearest ball and hoped she looked athletic.

 

“But you didn’t receive any today.”

 

“Yet. I didn’t get any yet.”

 

“Kim Minjeong! Ning Yizhuo! Mr. Han yelled, making them turn.

 

“Actually, we might be getting it now.” Minjeong muttered.

 

“Nah, not from him. He’s all bark, no bite.”

 

“You aren’t here for a photoshoot! Stop standing around and move it!” he screeched, making the girls heave a sigh and half heartedly start playing a game of pass.

 

Minjeong mindlessly threw and caught the ball, bored as hell. What’s gym class even for? She’s not even remotely interested in sports or any physical activity, for ’s sake.

 

Her eyes absently darted around the gymnasium--the bleachers, the vaulted ceiling, the polished floor--wondering when the class would end so she could go to math and gawk at Yoo Jimin again. She liked looking at Jimin and loved how her stares obviously make the older girl flustered. Yes, Jimin might scowl at her all the time but the reddened tips of her ears couldn’t exactly lie.

 

She was too busy daydreaming so it was absolutely unintended when the ball she threw hit Yizhuo straight in the face.

 

“Ouch!” Yizhuo hollered, cradling her forehead that was slowly starting to turn red.

 

If there’s one thing Minjeong was remotely afraid of, it was an angry Ning Yizhuo and if there was anything that could make the girl angry, it was getting her skin damaged.

 

“Uh-oh.” Minjeong muttered, slowly backing away as she could practically see fumes blowing out of Yizhuo’s flaring nose.

 

“Kim Minjeong!” Yizhuo lunged and Minjeong shot out of the gymnasium like a bullet, ignoring Mr. Han’s yells. With a furious Yizhuo hot on her tail, her brain was in a full-blast FLIGHT response mode, incapable of minding anything other than survival.

 

Students in their respective classes turned as they raced past while some teachers tried to stop them but to no avail. Detention was far better than being in Yizhuo’s chokehold.

 

Yup. This will definitely put them on detention.

 

Pain started to burn Minjeong’s side, considerably slowing her down. Yizhuo’s footsteps neared, refilling her with adrenaline. She poured forward like her life depended on it until--BAM!

 

“Ow…” she whined, holding her shoulder.

 

“Kim Minjeong?”

 

She looked up, heart stopping at the familiar deep voice. Yoo Jimin was glowering down at her in all her gorgeous glory. Minjeong laughed nervously, “He-he-he, hey…”

 

“Kim Minjeong, how many times do I have to tell you--”

 

“KIM MINJEONG!”

 

She flinched at Yizhuo’s roar and instantly jumped to the nearest hiding spot--behind Jimin’s back.

 

“What are you doing?” the girl demanded.

 

“Listen, Yizhuo is going to kill me and I need to hide so I’m going to hide behind you because you are way taller than me, thank you.” Minjeong explained in one breath, crouching and peeking over Jimin’s shoulder while holding her still. She smelled good, her mind absently registered, like lavender. And her arm felt so soft. And--oh my god, why was she so obsessed?

 

Yizhuo rounded the corner only to skid into a halt upon seeing Jimin at the end of the hallway. Her eyes found Minjeong and the latter immediately ducked, though Yizhuo most probably already saw her.

 

“Ms. Ning, no running in the hallways. Don’t you have classes?” Jimin reprimanded, effectively stopping Yizhuo from approaching them. It’s almost like she’s protecting her and Minjeong wanted to hug the older for it.

 

“Well, yeah, but let me land just one punch on Minjeong-unnie. Just one. And I’ll be on my way.” Yizhuo tried to negotiate.

 

Jimin ignored what she just said and instead turned to the girl crouched behind her, “Don’t we have math right now?”

 

“We do, but you’re also here so--”

 

“Ning Yizhuo, go to your class now.” Jimin ordered. “Kim Minjeong, you’re coming with me.”

 

Minjeong happily let herself be dragged away, but not without sticking her tongue out at Yizhuo who gave her the deluxe I’ll-kill-you-later glare. They walked in silence, Minjeong trailing behind Jimin. She might’ve gotten herself in trouble but she didn’t mind if it came with a cute companion. It’s totally worth it.

 

“You haven’t even changed back into your uniform.” Jimin broke the ice, clicking her tongue in disapproval.

 

Minjeong hopped forward, falling into step. “Why? Miss seeing me in the uniform I look oh-so-great in?”

 

Jimin huffed. “Why did I even tell you that?”

 

“Nah, I like it. Keep it coming.”

 

“Maybe when you start behaving.”

 

‘Maybe when we start dating.”

 

“What?”

 

“What?”

 

Jimin rolled her eyes, muttering, “Weirdo.” to which Minjeong just snickered at.

 

Class was already starting when they arrived at the classroom. Ms. Woo looked so ready to spit a diss track until she saw Jimin, who simply apologized for being late, telling her they had to take care of certain matters and the woman let them in unscathed.

 

“Wow, did you just cover up for me?” Minjeong whispered as they headed to their seats. “We love character development.”

 

To her surprise, Jimin grabbed her wrist. “You’re sitting with me.”

 

Minjeong’s brows climbed up to her hairline. Well, this is a surprise. She let out a low-whistle. “Possessive. I like it.”

 

“Shut up. Ms. Woo ordered me to do this.” Jimin said as they sat, voice hushed. “Apparently, teachers think only I can manage your hyperactivity.”

 

“Well, they’re not wrong. All of this would be unnecessary if you just ask me out on that date.”

 

“Pay attention to class.” Jimin snapped and Minjeong didn’t need to be told twice.

 

Minjeong tried her best. She really did. It wasn’t her fault that Ms. Woo’s voice could only be heard by her own . Neither was it on her that trigonometry was a topic that wasn’t quite as riveting as the girl seated beside her was.

 

“Stop staring and listen.” Jimin hissed, without even sparing her a glance.

 

Sighing, Minjeong obeyed, redirecting her gaze to the board. Jimin wouldn’t like getting into trouble and if Minjeong wanted to keep this arrangement, she’d have to pretend being with the older girl actually kept her in check.

 

She spun her pen around her fingers, mind flying out of the window. Puppies. She had always wanted a puppy, no matter what breed. But her parents were against it. No one would take care of the pup, they would always reason. They were busy with work and Minjeong had to focus on her studies, which she would always argue with ‘I’m not paying attention now so it wouldn’t change much, would it’ but it would always end with her parents nagging.

 

Her eyes landed on Jimin’s arm, watching how as she wrote muscles contracted and relaxed under skin so fair and flawless, like a blank sheet of paper waiting to be tainted. Hmm…

 

The older girl flinched when Minjeong started doodling on her arm. Jimin gave her a weird look but didn’t tell her to stop so Minjeong went on with her temporary tattoo gig.

 

By the end of the class, a line of hearts and stars had trailed from Jimin’s wrist to her elbow.

 

“I have soju in my locker.” Minjeong offered when the older girl asked for alcohol.

 

“I meant rubbing but wait, you don’t actually mean that, do you?” Jimin narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

 

Minjeong smiled, coy and teasing as she walked backwards to the door. “Call me if you wanna know.” she winked before sauntering out of the classroom, snickering to herself.

 

She may or may not have written down her number on Yoo Jimin’s skin.

 

***

 

The student council held a meeting as they always did after class, mostly discussing the upcoming festival. Jimin wanted everything to be perfect in every event they hold and the council put in everything in planning every single detail. They reviewed which booth ideas to approve. There were a variety of interesting submissions, ranging from ridiculous to absurd. Class 3-B wanted to have a booth where they dunk the teachers in water for no apparent reason aside from grudge, 4-C wanted to have a kissing booth, and 3-A, Kim Minjeong’s class, proposed to open a haunted attraction.

 

Jimin sent Aeri a text saying she can go home first because it seemed like it would take a while before they could reach a consensus. The haunted house easily got approved, since it wasn’t really harmful. Debate within the council ensued with the Dunk-A-Teacher idea, while the kissing booth surprisingly got a much heated argument.

 

“Tell Class 4-C’s president to give us proper rules for this booth so our discussion can go smoother.” Jimin told Yeji, 12th grade representative, effectively cutting off the on-going discourse between Haechan and Mark on whether to approve the kissing booth or not. “It’s already late. We can continue discussing this tomorrow.”

 

The sun was already setting, dousing everything in a purple-pink filter. The streets glistened from the rain and Jimin could see her distorted reflection on the tiny puddles. Fortunately for her who forgot to bring her umbrella, the downpour had receded to a light shower.

 

Holding her bag over her head, Jimin jumped around puddles. Living in a walking distance from school was a good thing at times, but a bad thing at others like now. She hated the disgusting feeling of having her socks all squelchy and wet. It made her skin itch and her feet looking all crumpled like a corpse’s.

 

While she tiptoed around the street, she checked her mental to-do list once she got home. First off, she’d like to wash up first. Then clean the house while her mother prepares dinner. During dinner, she would answer her homework on the dining table while ignoring her parents’ lecture on manners. After doing the dishes, she would study the current and maybe even future lessons just to be prepared. And when her parents are asleep, she would sneak out and head to the community pool.

 

Swimming was more than a sport. It was her means of relieving stress. The coolness of water and the gentle ripples against her skin was a relaxing sensation she could never get enough of. Doing laps at night helped lull her constantly racing mind to sleep. She had started doing it in middle school and soon, it melted into her routine and became something she couldn’t sleep without.

 

Jimin was too engrossed in her thoughts that she didn’t realize she had ventured in the middle of the street as she avoided puddles. The sound of a bicycle bell along with a yelled, “Move!” startled her back to reality but like every stupid protagonist, she froze and turned instead of moving aside.

 

She could barely register the handle grazing her shoulder as she watched in horror as the cyclist wobbled out of balance on the wet slippery street before plummeting down to the asphalt with a sickening crash and a ear piercing scream.

 

The person lay on the ground, curled up and groaning before Jimin realized she had been gaping instead of doing something. “Oh my god!” she rushed forward but only hovered, not knowing what to do. “I’m so sorry!”

 

She wondered why she was apologizing but soon forgot about it when she spotted the familiar blonde-blue ombre strands peeking out from the oversized hood. There was only one person in the entire school who had her hair bleached and got away with it: “Kim Minjeong?”

 

“Jimin-sunbae?” the girl squeaked and Jimin confirmed that it was indeed Kim Minjeong. “Ugh, oh no. I think I’m dying, I’m already seeing heaven.” she wailed and coughed and squirmed on the ground like a drowning fish.

 

“Oh my god, shut up.” she pulled her up to a sitting position and scanned her for injuries. She spotted a scratch on her right cheek and winced at the nasty abrasion on her right knee. Other than that, there seemed to be nothing else aside from the mud on her clothes. She tried to see if she broke her leg but the girl just swatted her hand away and accused her of being a ert. No broken ribs either, seeing as how the girl comfortably heaved without any apparent pain.

 

“How bad is it? How bad is it?” Minjeong asked, refusing to look at her wound. “I’m never going to walk again, am I? They’re gonna have to cut off my leg now, do they?”

 

Jimin stared at the paranoid girl before nodding gravely. “Yes, I’m afraid so.”

 

“No!” Minjeong sobbed, dragging out the vowel. She then clutched Jimin’s arm, much to the latter’s surprise. “My future is gone. Tell my mother I love her. I have to go and join the circus. It’s the only way I can survive.”

 

“Don’t be overdramatic. Having only one leg doesn’t necessarily mean your future’s gone. Get up.”

 

Minjeong stared at her. “Excuse me?”

 

Jimin pulled on her arm. “Come on.”

 

“Where are we going?”

 

“To the circus, you clown.” she tried to pull her up again but Minjeong wouldn’t budge.

 

“Ms. President, ma’am, with all due respect, you’d have to carry me. Ow! Alright! Alright! I’m getting up! Stop pinching me!”

 

Jimin successfully got Minjeong up to her feet but the girl kept up with her dramatics and flailed around and wouldn’t leave without her bicycle so Jimin ended up having to support half of her weight while trying to drag the bicycle with her other hand. Multiple times, Jimin seriously considered leaving her to die on the streets.

 

The entire walk back to the campus went like that, though halfway through Jimin could feel Minjeong slowly taking her weight off her but she didn’t untangle herself from Jimin’s hold which Jimin didn’t really mind. Minjeong smelled good. Like vanilla and jasmine, as usual.

 

She wondered what she did to deserve this extra problem after having a long day of classes and meetings and arguments. All she wanted was to go home and have a nice, warm bath yet here she was, heading back to school with the last person she’d want to be with.

 

She really should be careful around the streets next time.

 

After begging the security to let them in, Jimin managed to drag Minjeong to the school infirmary but not without the girl playing pranks on her while they walked through the dark, creepy, and empty hallways.

 

Jimin swears to God, she’d go bald if she had to spend another minute with Kim Minjeong.

 

“Ouch!” Minjeong hissed when Jimin applied gentle pressure to stop the bleeding.

 

She held Minjeong’s leg back down on her lap. “Stay still. I’m not even doing anything yet.”

 

The blonde eyed the cotton ball Jimin had just dipped in antibiotic. “Well, you’re definitely about to.”

 

“Shush, cry baby.”

 

“Your baby--OUCH! Stop doing that on purpose!”

 

“Then stop fooling around.” Jimin gently applied the ointment, holding Minjeong’s leg in a vice grip and blowing on the wound to somehow alleviate the sting. The girl surprisingly behaved herself, whines reduced to occasional wincing.

 

“It’s going to scar, isn’t it?” Minjeong asked, watching Jimin dress her wound.

 

Jimin hummed. “Not if you put medicine. There. It’s done. You have to regularly clean and change the bandage and ointment once a day, okay?”

 

“Okay…” Minjeong tried to move her leg off Jimin’s lap but the latter held on to it. “Are we not done yet?”

 

She’s whining again, her pout reminding Jimin of a petulant child. She clicked her tongue. “Why are you so impatient?”

 

There was still the tiny scratch on Minjeong’s cheek. As small as it was, it would be a pity if it scarred and became the only blemish on the girl’s otherwise flawless skin. Jimin leaned over to apply ointment on the little incision but Minjeong backed away.

 

“What are you doing?” the girl demanded.

 

“Get your mind off the curb. You have a scratch on your face.” Jimin started gingerly dabbing the cream, “You should regularly put salve on this one too. You won’t want this to scar especially since you have such nice skin.”

 

Jimin gently blew on the wound, at the back of her mind thanking Mark for giving her a mint flavored candy. She can feel Minjeong’s eyes on her and it was making her tense, along with their close proximity, and so she rushed through the process.

 

The lighthearted atmosphere was gone and it was suddenly suffocating, much like how Minjeong could switch from childish to dangerous. Her face burnt from the blonde’s stare, heart shaking her ribs like deep bass. How does breathing work again? Right. Breathe in, out. In, out. In--

 

“Jimin-unnie.”

 

Jimin stopped moving, stopped breathing even.

 

‘Unnie’ was a platonic title, which Minjeong could definitely use. But at the moment, Jimin’s not quite sure about that. The term sounded illegal--borderline sinful-- coming from Minjeong’s lips that looked soft and plump and sweet and--wait, since when was she staring at her lips?

 

Those lips moved and Jimin almost choked at what she heard next.

 

“Can I kiss you?”

 

“That’s a hard pass no.” Jimin stood and started rummaging in the nurse’s drawers. For what, she didn’t know yet but it was the nearest excuse to put some distance between them.

 

“Aww, come on. Why not?” Minjeong’s whining again and it baffles Jimin how easily she could sound like she’s asking for a candy instead of a kiss. She’s definitely messing with me.

 

Jimin spots a box of bandaids. Perfect. She puts it over Minjeong’s cut quickly, but carefully, not lingering any longer than she should and holding her breath to prevent any more intake of that intoxicating perfume.

 

“Let’s go. It’s getting dark out.”

 

Jimin was today years old when she found out that Kim Minjeong actually lived in her neighborhood, which meant that they had to walk together, much to Jimin’s chagrin. God, she’s not getting rid of this girl any time soon, was she?

 

“I don’t go out much.” Minjeong said when Jimin expressed her surprise about them being neighbors. The girl had dropped the limping act and walked properly on her two feet, dragging her bicycle along.

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah. I’m more of a stay-at-home kind of person. Just netflix and chill, you know?”

 

It was strange, walking and talking with Minjeong like a pair of normal teenagers. And mind boggling. Jimin was quite surprised they could have a proper conversation that didn’t involve nagging and cheeky remarks. Being with the blonde always felt like going on a voyage. It was nice, and Jimin found herself not as impatient to get home now.

 

“That’s...unexpected.” Jimin commented, realizing she didn’t really know much about her. She had always found the girl to be the wild, party animal type.

 

Minjeong sent her a sideway grin, one that lit up the night. “There’s more than what meets the eye,” she said, smile sweet and dimple charming. “But it’s up to you if you’re willing to make a move and learn more about it.”

 

Jimin paused in her tracks, watching the girl walk ahead with the stars sprinkled over her head.

 

“Unnie?” Minjeong stopped and turned, wide eyes genuinely curious. Moonlight poured over her like a liquid dream, bathing her in an ethereal glow. “What’s wrong?”

 

She shook her head, jogging up to her. “Nothing.”

 

Later that night, Jimin found herself floating in the community pool, staring up at the stars. Thinking. Just thinking.

 

Slowly, she let herself sink to rock bottom.

 

***

 

“So you walked home together? That’s peak girlfriend behavior.”

 

Jimin stopped what she’s doing to fire Aeri a glare. It’s their free time and her friend was hanging out in the student council office again, doing a group project with Haechan and Mark while the officers simultaneously had a casual discussion regarding the festival. Jimin’s divider had been folded aside so she could hear whatever rubbish Aeri had to throw her way. She’s starting to regret telling her about yesterday. And folding the divider.

 

“I knew something was up since you dragged her to sit beside you during math.” Aeri continued to say. “Imagine my shock when--”

 

“Aeri, if you don’t have anything useful to say, the door is that way.” Jimin butted in, making the boys chuckle.

 

“That won’t be necessary, ma’am, everything I say is important.” Aeri retorted.

 

“Yeah.” Mark chimed in. “Actually, we’re quite intrigued.”

 

“I second that,” Haechan added.

 

“See?” Aeri spread her hands, “I got supporters!”

 

Jimin pinched the bridge of her nose. “No, Aeri.”

 

“Yes, Aeri.” she turned to the boys. “You’ll never believe what I saw earlier. Jimin here was actually slipping bandaids and maybe a love letter in Minjeong’s locker.”

 

“That wasn’t a love letter.” Jimin snapped. She had wanted to apologize and check on her in person but it turned out the girl was late again so she resorted to writing it down on paper. “And it’s my fault she got hurt so that’s what the bandaids are for.”

 

“Have you considered kissing the boo-boos away?” Mark suggested, snickering.

 

“Shut up.” Jimin threw him a pen which hit him square in the head.

 

Aeri started running again, “The other day, I walked in here and saw something I shouldn’t--ouch! What’s that for?”

 

Jimin mentally patted her back at the accurate pen-throwing skills she demonstrated. “For your silence.” she replied. “Anyway, don’t you think these rules they submitted for the kissing booth sounds... dangerous?”

 

“Randomly picking two unknowing people and daring them to play Pocky, otherwise they’d have to eat a spoonful of wasabi.” Haechan shrugged, “Sounds like a pretty good deal to me.”

 

“Be honest. You want to do this with someone, don’t you?” Mark accused.

 

“So what if I do? You have a problem with that?”

 

“Brave of you to assume I would care.”

 

Jimin cleared . She shouldn’t have opened up the topic. The two would always fight about it, though she couldn’t see why. “We should vote on it later. Moving on, I am still against the dunk-a-teacher booth.”

 

“Of course you are,” Aeri quipped.

 

“It’s too random and violent.” Jimin argued.

 

“Jimin, honey, our teachers are too random and violent. I mean, have you experienced Mr. Choi’s pop quizzes?” Haechan told her. “It’s high time they get a taste of their own medicine, don’t you think?”

 

“For once, I agree with him.” Mark raised a fist, bumping with Haechan’s. “It’s going to pass the voting, I’m sure. Don’t fight it, Miss Pres.”

 

Jimin sighed, knowing he’s right. She’s about to move on to the next booth when the door suddenly burst open. She jumped in her seat and may or may not have let out a little scream as Kim Minjeong barged in, wearing complete uniform, her mind absently noted. There’s a wild look in her eyes as she walked past Mark, Haechan, and Giselle to lean over Jimin’s table, grabbing her shoulders.

 

She hadn't even gotten over her shock when Minjeong suddenly cried,

 

“Please, help me.”