“Good luck for the game tomorrow,”

Minho took one last gulp from his bottle, placed the cap back, and looked up at me as I seated myself next to him on the bench by the court. “You’re not gonna come?” he asked, eyebrows slightly furrowed.

I bent down and pretended to adjust my shoelaces to avoid his gaze. “Can I?”

“Of course you can,” he replied. “I’d be glad if you do,”

“Really?”

“Sure,” he smiled. Then he picked up his bag and swung it over his shoulder as he rose from his seat. “See you,”

-

He didn’t.

I found myself a front seat right at the center where I can have the perfect view of the court, and perhaps where I can be spotted easily.

Right before the very first buzzer, before he did the jump to kickstart the game, he glanced my way and smiled. I smiled back and waved awkwardly while trying my best not to be too giddy and look stupid.

When his gaze lingered for a little too long, I realized that his eyes weren’t focused on me. I turned my head around to find who he was looking at. Then I found her, in a seat far behind, squashed amongst the people around her.

I stared at my bright yellow t-shirt which I picked on purpose to stand out from the crowd. I thought I looked like a silly Big Bird, and suddenly felt embarrassed and incredibly stupid.

Soon the whistle signaling the start of the game was blown, and I could see Minho at the very center, leaping into the air with his long arm extended to reach for the ball. Soon the gym was filled with the sounds of the squeaks of sneakers and the echoes of dribbles of the ball, aside from the loud cheers of the supporters from each team.

But I was drowned beneath it all, sinking into nothing.

-

The sun was scorching up there behind the clouds. I stood with my back leaned against the wall to take advantage of the shade provided by the roof, and let my thoughts to float along with the warm breeze of summer. The soft, calming music that came from my iPod put my mind at ease.

Not long after, I saw a figure appearing from a distance, half jogging and half walking, approaching me. A smile was gracing his lips despite the curtain of his hair being soaked by his sweat. I smiled back, and kept my earplugs inside my bag before slinging it over my shoulder.

“The game’s not over yet. Why are you leaving now?” Jongin asked.

I crinkled my nose a bit and looked elsewhere. “It got boring,”

He frowned but said nothing about it. “Mum told me to buy some stuff. Wanna come along?” he offered.

“Only if you buy me something afterwards,”

He chuckled, and pinched my nose. “What do I do with you?”

-

Minho dropped by my class again three days later. Having grown slightly used to it, I immediately assumed he was just there for Riah as always.

“If you’re looking for her, she left only a minute before you came,” I told him.

“I see,” he said. “But I’m not looking for her. I’m here for you,”

Surprised, I stared at him as if he just spoke in an alien language that I can’t comprehend. “Me?”

He nodded, eyes looking at the mass of papers and books on my table that I was gathering. “I didn’t see you at the match. Didn’t you come?”

“I did,” I answered rather bitterly. “You just didn’t look far enough,”

“You haven’t been to practices either,”

“I haven’t been feeling well,”

“Are you okay now?”

“Yup,”

“I see,” was all he could mumble back. He fixed his gaze at me and cocked his head at one side to have a better view of me. “Are you mad at me or something?”

I raised my eyes at him and realized that he appeared rather worried, and that made me blush. “No,” I replied, shaking my head. “Why would I be mad at you?”

“Because you look somewhat…I don’t know…mad?”

Hearing his choice of word, I chuckled instead. “I’m not mad,”

“Good,” he nodded, a smile appearing on his lips. “Then let’s skip practice,”

“Sorry?”

“Let’s go somewhere else,”