Chapter three

You are at a loss as how to proceed with an attractive person. Loosen up and start the conversation.

http://www.astrologystars.com/

Wednesday has arrived. I am not wearing gray. In fact, I’ve taken great pains to make certain there is no gray anywhere in my outfit. I even left my watch at home on account of its gray woven band. I’m not going to get into Heejoon’s nonsense.

Heejoon called last night to tell me she’d left me a surprise packaged outside my apartment door. It was the gray skirt she wanted me to borrow. Very cute, but there was no chance in hell that I was going to wear it.

Not today. Not ever. I have to give it back to her. Immediately. Unfortunately, Heejoon has an early class on Wednesdays, so I’m not going to see her until lunch. I can’t leave the skirt in her locker on account of her keeping it unlocked all day. So I have the skirt in my backpack, with the hope that I can catch her in the hall between classes.

When I get to school, it’s a convenient surprise to find Heejoon’s twin brother, Joonmyeon, hanging out in the hall near my locker. Heejoon and Joonmyeon might be twins, but they dress like night and day. Literally. Where Heejoon wears brightly colored flowing gauzy free-range frocks, Joonmyeon dresses completely Goth. He wears black. Nothing but black. From his shoes to his pants to his belt to his shirt—if I turned off the lights, Joonmyeon would disappear. His hair is dyed the color of midnight.

I have to admit, I do get a kick out of the fact that he wears the earring I have him last Christmas at their family’s Christmas gift exchange. My father keeps the tuxedo shop open late Christmas Eve for formal-wear emergencies, so I usually spend the evening with Heejoon’s clan. After seven years, it’s become a tradition.

Joonmyeon’s earring was meant to be a joke—a skull and crossbones to go with his all-black pirate motif. The joke didn’t go as I expected. He’s worn the earring every day since.

Without taking the time to find out what he wants, I shove Heejoon’s skirt at him, telling him to return it to her, that I don’t even want to be near the thing.

Joonmyeon takes the skirt from me and agrees to give it to his sister when he sees her next period.

I like Joonmyeon well enough but ironically, given the amount of time I spend with his sister and family, I don’t really know him very well. In all our years, I swear I’ve never actually had a full-fledged conversation with him about anything. Joonmyeon’s a bit like furniture that happens to be in the room. If you’re sitting on the sofa, do you really notice the end table? My friendship’s with Heejoon. Joonmyeon’s a lot like her shadow—he even dresses the part.

This is why I’m so surprised when he asks: “Want to grab a bit after school today?”

“Huh?” His question throws me off for a second. Heejoon and I regularly “grab a bite” at the Corner Café after school, before I head over to the tuxedo shop. Joonmyeon simply shows up, nearly every day, whether we’ve invited him or not. No one has ever made plans to go to the Café… we just go and have been doing it for years.

I know, being as busy and scholarship focused as I am, it’s hard to imagine that I waste time over a piece of pie every single day. But I do. I’m most comfortable when I have a routine. I like unwinding from school before I have to go to work. And the pie at the Corner Café is to die for!

“Want to go to the Corner Café?” Joonmyeon asks, as if we might be going somewhere else. Is there anywhere else?

“I’ll be there,” I tell him, unclear why we are having this conversation at all.

When Joonmyeon opens his mouth again, as if he has something more to say, I worry that he’s going to hand me back the skirt. I don’t want to give Joonmyeon the chance to turn down my errand, so I interrupt whatever he’s about to say by telling him I’m in a rush and then hurrying down the hall.

Three class periods later, I’m entering the chemistry laboratory. After this, there’s lunch, and then two more classes. In another thirteen hours, it will be Thursday. I will have survived Wednesday and Mars will be moving out of Gemini, for whatever that’s worth. (Not that I’ve given Heejoon’s prediction a second though or anything.) At precisely midnight tonight, I will have made it through the day without discovering my “soul mate.” Ha-ha-ha.

At the of midnight, I’m planning to call Heejoon and tell her exactly where she can stick her astrological chart.

Hang on a second! Someone’s sitting on my chem lab stool!

It’s my still because that’s where I always sit. Always.

I look at the already-filled room and survey the laboratory tables. Yep, that’s my table, third from the right, under the window. My table and my stool. Everyone knows it. So why is someone sitting there?

Ever since Showgo Yakimora moved back to Japan in the middle of last semester, I’ve had my own setup in the chem lab. I like it that way. Being the only one without a lab partner, I rely solely on myself to make sure experiments are done properly. I’ve worked extra hard to be a standout in chemistry lab. Chemistry is an integral part of astronomy. It’s all about how molecules move and combine to form special matter. No dumb dude who’s happy with a passing C in chemistry just to graduate high school is going to ruin my course grade.

I mix my own chemicals, monitor my own outcomes, and never, ever, ever, share. Mistakes are my mistakes and the joys of discovery are all mine, too.

So what is some brown-haired, black-eyed, God-looking guy with nicely cut arm muscles doing on my stool at my lap space?! And why did I notice the color of his eyes?

Something bad is happening, and I don’t have to be in tune with the universe to know it.

“Jikyung,” Mrs. Choi reprimands me from the front of the room. “Why aren’t you sitting down? We are about to begin.”

“I know,” I start, “but—”

“No excuses, young lady.” She uses her long pointing stick to indicate an empty stool at the back of the room. “Bring that stool over and sit next to Kris Wu Yi Fan.” She moves her pointer to the interloper sitting at my table. “I’ve already introduced him to the class. His family just moved to town from Canada. He’ll be your new lab partner.”

Any words after his name are completely redundant. I can see for myself that he’s a new student. And I can surmise, by the fact that he’s invading my space and touching my equipment, that he’s going to be my lab partner. I feel a stabbing pain well up behind my eyes as I march to the back of the room to haul the stool over to the table. My table.

Taking deep, calming breaths, I drag the stool across the room. It makes a sharp, scraping sound that seems to soothe my nerves.

As I pass Jun Hyosung, she touches my back and mutters, “You go, girl!” to me. From another table, Park Bom whispers, “Lucky!” from behind her thick glasses. I’ve no idea what they are talking about. Getting a new lab partner is a of terrible misfortune, not good luck.

After taking my time to position the stool at an angel to the table, I step up on my tiptoes and settle down onto the seat. Unfortunately, one stool leg is shorter than the others, and the stool wobbles left. Unable to react fast enough, I tip over, nearly tumbling into Kris’s lap. He grabs my arm to help me steady myself.

If I had to take an oath, I’d swear he held onto my arm for at least ten—if not fifteen—minutes before I was able to redistribute my weight and precariously balance back on the broken stool. In reality, he probably only touched me for a few seconds.

“Careful,” Kris says, releasing me. I can still feel the warm place on my arm where he held me steady. “I guess this explains why that stool was in the back over there.”

As Kris speaks, he tosses his head toward the back of the room, but I don’t follow his eyes. I physically can’t. I’m staring at him as if he has two heads. My eyes won’t move. There’s no connection between them and my brain. My heart’s racing and I keep staring at Kris for no apparent reason.

When my brain finally reconnects, I understand why Hyosung cheered me on and Bom called me lucky. If you put aside the fact that he’s encroaching on my turf, you’d discover that simple reality that there’s a new guy in town and he’s a babe. Up close, his eyes are ever blacker than when I first saw them from across the room. It’s hard not to stare into them. A girl could get seriously lost in those eyes.

The lab begins, and, after muttering “thanks” to Kris for catching me, I force myself to pin my own eyes on Mrs. Choi.

Since our high school doesn’t offer astronomy, except as an after-school club, chemistry’s my favorite subject, and maintaining my A+ average is essential to snagging that college scholarship. With that in mind, I close off my surroundings and focus every fiver of my being on Mrs. Choi giving the daily instructions:

“In this experiment, two separate and distinct chemical reactions will be created through the use of an aqueous solution from three different compounds. Changes during each reaction will be obvious. You will note your observations in your notebook, due to me at the end of the period.”

Happiness, pure and simple. I feel like myself again. Mrs. Choi is speaking my language. Kris? Kris, who?

Mrs. Choi goes to the blackboard and writes down two balanced chemical equations for the reactions. I diligently copy the equations into my notebook:

Na2CO3 (aq) + CaCI2 (aq) = 2NaCI (aq) + CaCO3(s) CaCO3(s) + H2SO4 (aq) = CaSO4(s) + H2O + CO2 (g)

I wish everything in the universe could be as straightforward as the easy-to-understand law of conversation of mass.

Since Kris is new, I volunteer to gather our equipment. Two balance corks, an Erlenmeyer flask, a rubber stopper, a graduated cylinder, and two test tubes. I grab my goggles and my coat, and then walk to the storage closet at the back of the room to find safety wear for Kris. I do it, but I’m not happy about it.

I hand a coat and goggles to Kris. With their scratched white plastic cover, the goggles cover his eyes, which is good for me because his eyes seem to hinder my ability to function normally.

He measures the sodium carbonate solution and pours it into the Erlenmeyer flask. I stopper the flask and to my amazement, everything goes great. In fact, the rest of the lab time passes in a blur.

While we’re working Kris says, “So I hear you’re the top student in chem. Class.”

First I blush, embarrassed that he’s heard anything at all. Then I tighten my lips, hoping that he isn’t planning to ride my coattails for an easy A.

“I asked around before class began. Gotta know who the competition is.” He winks one gorgeous eye. “I like to have a dedicated lab partner. Not some dope who just needs a C to pass. I need to well in chemistry since I’m going to be a doctor—a pediatrician. I’m going back to Canada for school. I’ve already been admitted to University of Waterloo to study pre-med.” Kris smiles at me. He’s not conceited, like you might think a pre-med guy would be. He’s… well, he’s nice. Very nice.

I have to admit I was wrong at first about him. Looks can be deceiving (especially really good looks with well-defined arms muscles.) Kris’s not some dumb athlete, come to mooch off my GPA.

Before I respond to his academic challenge, Kris says, “Forget the competition stuff. I don’t want to have an academic battle with you. As long as we are lab partners, we can be a team.”

“All right,” I agree. “We can share the top honor.” Being tied really won’t affect my scholarship, as long as my grades don’t slip. And I can immediately tell, with Kris at my side, the scholarship will remain in the bag!

We’re working together on the experiment when Kris asks me, “Is there an astronomy club at this school? I didn’t see one posted on the club board.”

Did I just hear what I thought I heard? We get to talking and it turns out he’s almost as interested in the stars as I am. Kris isn’t planning on a career in astronomy, but was the treasurer of his old school’s astronomy club and would love to stay involved. He used to camp a lot with his folks when he was a kid and one night realized he wanted to know more about the stars. He’s been learning about them ever since.

I know what you’re thinking: Here’s a cute guy who just happens to get placed at my chem lab table. He’s an academic over-achiever, like me. Enjoys astronomy, like me. Also happens to be an only child, like me (he told me while we mixed the solution). And it’s Wednesday.

All coincidence. Really. Kris was supposed to start school on Monday, but had a cold and his mom suggested he wait until he felt better. He tried to take the first-period chemistry class, but had to change his schedule to fit in AP art history. That, and his parents weren’t even supposed to move to Busan. Until last month, they thought they were headed to Suwon, instead. See? Total coincidence.

Plus, the probability that we are destined for love, after having known each other for, I check my watch, forty-three minutes, is next to nil.

As class comes to an end, I have to say it was weird sharing my learning environment with another person, but as I got to know Kris better, it wasn’t nearly as uncomfortable as I imagined. He was really meticulous about measurements and even offered to wash the beakers once we’re finished. I, of course, let him. Damn, if you’re forced to have a lab partner, he might as well do the cleaning up part, right?

When Kris returns from the sink, where he’s carefully rinsed and dried out equipment, he calls me by name for the first time. “I’m sorry, Jikyung,” he says, “I don’t know where everything goes. Would you mind showing me?”

I can’t really say no since I was the one who got the stuff. Besides, this means he can gather the equipment tomorrow.

He hands me the test tubes first. They’re warm and still a little damp. I grasp them in my hand and reach for the Erlenmeyer flask. Like a DVD running in slow motion, I see him hand me the flask, I feel the wetness, and realize it’s too slick to hold. I watch, detached from my body, as the flask slips out of my hand and crashes to the floor.

There’s glass everywhere and I’m horrified. I’ve never broken anything in chem lab before—not that it will affect my grade or anything that traumatic—but I pride myself on a clean record. A record that, with the fall of the Erlenmeyer flask, has just been shattered.

Mrs. Choi, though alerted to the crashing noise, has made it clear in the past that the lab team is responsible for the cleanup.

Kris bends down to retrieve some of the bigger pieces of glass. “No big deal. These things happens.” And then he apologizes for not drying the flask more carefully.

I immediately squat down to help him clean up the mess I made. Kris asks me to move my leg so he can get a piece near my left foot. When I do, he gasps. Next thing I know, he’s swept me off my feet and is holding me firmly against his hard, sculpted chest.

I know all the science-focused guys at our school and can safely say that not one of them has a chest like Kris’s. I know flab when I see it. Kris, from what I can tell, has none.

“Mrs. Choi,” Kris calls over his shoulder as he carries me toward the door. “When the flask broke, Jikyung was hurt. May I have permission to take her to the nurse’s office?”

“I’m not hurt,” I insist as Mrs. Choi comes to where Kris has stopped, near the exit. “Or maybe I am,” I say as I look at the fresh red blood covering my ankle and dripping onto my white tennis shoe. Once I’ve noticed the blood, the pain begins in earnest. I grimace.

Mrs. Choi pulls some paper towels from the holder near the sink and after careful inspection presses them to the base of my ankle. “Go on.” Mrs. Choi gives me a sympathetic look. “I’ll take care of the mess. Tell Nurse Lee that he should look for glass fragments.” And with that, she wraps my ankle in a temporary bandage and then turns away to clean up my broken flask.

“Kris, you can put me down now.” We’re at the end of the hall. Classes are going to be letting out for lunch soon and students will be filling the hallway. No matter how much pain I’m in, the last thing I need is for the entire student body to see Kris carrying me around. “I can walk.”

“No chance.” He pulls me even tighter against his chest. “You’re hurt, and I’m taking you to the nurse.”

Arguing seems pointless. Even though I could walk if he’d let me, I give in. I settle back and try not to enjoy the ride. I refuse to think about how nice it feels to be held by him, or how good his neck smells. I will not lose focus. I begin a mental mantra that goes, “Kyung Hee scholarship. Kyung Hee scholarship. Kyung—“ Shoot. So much for absolute concentration. I can’t help but notice we are headed the wrong direction.

“Kris,” I say, “This is the long way to the nurse’s office. If we cut through the lunchroom, we can get there a lot faster.”

Kris turns us around. “Are you suggesting I’m not strong enough to carry you the extra distance?” even as he asks the question, he’s heading into the lunchroom.

Like the teenager I am, but desperately try to suppress, I blush.

“I didn’t mean to imply—” Just then my cell phone rings. Well, it doesn’t ring, it vibrates. I can feel the awkward shivering movement somewhere between my and Kris’s arm. I wish I’d left the phone in my locker instead of stuffing it in my back pocket. This is really embarrassing on so many levels.

Shifting slightly left, I feebly attempted to get to my right back pocket. The movement squashes me even more tightly against Kris and horrified, I pull away.

My sudden pullback causes Kris to stumble. He lurches forward, still cradling me in his arms, attempting to regain his balance.

It’s a tense few seconds, but he manages to find his feet and settle me back in his arms.

The phone keeps buzzing. “I’ll just ignore it,” I tell him.

“Hang on.” Kris stops walking. In one fluid motion, he shifts me up and toward him and somehow manages to support me so I can reach into my pocket to get the phone. He’s even stronger than I imagined. Sigh.

I get the phone and we are on our way again. The ringing of the phone actually helped me to relax. Now I’ve something to think about other than the way Kris is holding me or which of my body parts are touching which parts of his.

I open the phone. It’s not a call after all. It’s a text message.

“After all that, I hope it’s important.” Kris comments as we hurry through the lunch room.

“Huh?” I’m still staring at the message on the small cell screen.

“An emergency?” Kris repeats?

“No.” I quickly shut the phone cover and close my fist around the phone. I wrap my arm around Kris’s neck, not so much to enjoy the few seconds I have left in his arms, but rather to keep myself from falling. At least that’s what I tell myself.

“Anyone important?” Kris is digging for info, but I can’t possibly explain to him what I read.

“Just my father,” I tell Kris, a bit too smoothly. “He wanted to make sure I was available for dinner.”

Kris nods. He must know I’m lying. Only the coolest dads know how to text message. But what else can I say? I can’t possibly tell him the truth.

The message is from Heejoon;

Mars has entered Gemini.

Phase one is now complete.

Phase one?!!!

~~~

Welcome EXO leaders! Bahahaha!

First, I know Suho is no emo guy since his smile practically make people since its way too bright but this is my fic, so deal with it. Haha. There’s a reason why I make him an emo but you’ll find out about it in after twenty chapters, I think? Hehe. And I’ll be using his real name in this fic instead of Suho. So don’t get confused. 

Second, I decide to not change Kris original country because I love Canadians. Lol. And he’s speaking Korean here, by the way.

Third, I’m going to leak something about this story. Just a bit, so no worries. I know Suho is one of the main characters but he won’t appear that much.

Lastly, enjoy the chapter! \O/

Words: 3562.