In life, we do things that we are unable to explain, and when you are forced to give a clarification, it feels like you want to explain what does water taste like.

That was pretty much what happened to me when I ran down the stairs, wondering why the hell I kissed Sehun.

My head was throbbing as I left the building, gaze unfocused and I almost bumped into a boy. The council’s president to be more precised.

“Hello” he said with a smile, but gaze somehow suspicious, speculating why I was wandering around while I should be in class.

“Hi …” I mumbled, “listen, I’ve never had the chance to thank you properly for helping me the other day. Thank you so much” I bowed genuinely

“No problem. Why are you here? Weren’t you supposed to be in class?”

“I…”

“And you look kind of sick. Are you alright?” he asked nicely. Come to think about it, I wasn’t feeling quiet well. I could feel that my face was about to explode, and also my heart, from beating frantically.

Taehyun surprised me by putting his palm on my forehead, examining my temperature. “Your head is boiling; want me to take you to the nurse?”

Absentmindedly, I nodded, and let him drag me to the furthest building, where the nurse’s office was located.

The nurse was in her mid-thirties, I supposed, and it seemed that she had a permanent frown marring her brows, making her look like an angry bird. She asked Taehyun to wait outside and led me to a bed where she had to lay.

She asked how I felt, then she handed me a thermometer, telling me to put it under my armpit. Her frown went deeper as I gave her the thermometer back after a moment.

“Do you suffer from any sickness?” she asked as she walked to the counter, looking for something.

“No”

“Do you often have high temperature?”

“No”

“Do you feel dizzy?” she came back to her with a needle. Great. I despised needles as much as I despised my very confusing situation.

“Slightly, but not frequently” I cleared my throat. The nurse slipped a black belt—or something like it— through my arm and tightened it. Some veins were more visible. She wiped a certain spot with sterilized cotton and I shut her eyes tight, feeling the sting of the needle.

“This will lower your temperature” her voice found the my ears and I slowly opened my eyes, finding that the nurse was done with her work and noticing that she was sending me an incredulous glare, which was probably because I was screwing my eyes so tightly like the older woman was going to pierce my arm with a knife.

When I walked out, Taehyun was already waiting outside with my school bag in his hand.

“Namji is worried about you” he said as he handed me the bag. “She said she’ll step by when classes are over”. I nodded.

“I spoke with the principal, you can go home now if you want” he smiled and I bowed, and right at that moment, I felt a wave of nausea zapping from the pit of my stomach to the back of my tongue, and if I hadn’t quickly straightened my back I would’ve vomited all over the guy’s shoes.

I thanked him again and left the school, walking lazily on the damp sidewalk and trying hard to erase the perplexing images of a certain guy crushing his lips on mine and of me responding to his reckless kiss, which was still a mystery.

Oh Sehun was a handsome guy, ain’t nobody got on him, that was for sure. I mean, as much as I hate to admit it, and through the month and a half I spent in Seoul High, I had developed a tiny crush on him. Just tiny.

Nevertheless, it couldn’t explain my rather thoughtless reaction; despite his good looks, I kind of hated his attitude, his whole demeanor. That’s why I shouldn’t have kissed back. Maybe it was just on impulse that I reacted to his sudden advance.

I arrived at home a little before lunch. The smell coming from the kitchen was mouthwatering, however my appetite as long gone.

“Yuri?!” my father’s voice found my ears and I turned around, meeting his questioning gaze. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you at school?”

I looked at him for a good couple of minutes, while inwardly asking myself those questions; what was I doing there? Why aren’t I in school? Was I that sick? Or is it just a pretext to avoid a very awkward situation?

Without answering my father’s questions, which was very rude, I stumbled upstairs to my room, leaving my father dumbfounded.

I hadn’t realized that dad followed me to my room until I felt his hand on my shoulder.

“Sweetheart, are you okay? You look pale” he spoke, voice laced with fraternal concern, and I sighed heavily.

“I’m just tired, dad. I need to take a shower and then sleep” my voice was weary and he only let go of me after I gave him a reassuring gaze.

Warm water was cascading down on me, relieving my body from the stress and somehow reducing my tiredness. After I wrapped a towel around myself, I caught reflection of a girl staring at me.

The girl in the mirror looked paler than the usual healthy pale skin, and skinnier than the average slender body; cheekbones and collarbones were a bit sticking out now.

The thought of leaving the soccer team, which I lately joined, started crossing my mind. We had soccer practice four days a week, and every time, I came back home tired, only dragging my legs and collapsing on bed without having a proper meal. If practicing sports intensely was going to affect my health, then I’m better off without soccer or anything like it.

After combing my hair, I walked out of the bathroom, only to find the housekeeper grabbing my unclean clothes from the floor and putting them in a basket full of dirty laundry.

She was humming a children’s song, but suddenly stopped when she saw me staring at her. Her eyes widened and she dropped the basket to the ground, walking with fast but small steps to the window to close it.

“You’re going to catch a cold” she spoke as she put a dry towel around my shoulders and took me by the hands, dragging me to the bed. “Please sit down Yuri” she said after she sat on the edge of the bed, holding a hair brush in her hand.

With a confused stare I did as she asked me. She brushed my hair softly while humming that song again, and all my caged emotions came crushing down on me like a wrecking ball. My voice cracked with the sob that I tried to keep in but I couldn’t, the tears that lingered in my eyes flowed down and I brought my hands to my face, sobbing in my palms as my shoulders shook violently.

The housekeeper seemed to freak out and she held me by the arms, frantically asking me what was going on, but no words came out, only loud weeping as I rested my forehead on her shoulder, and she let me cry while passing a hand on my hair.

“What’s happening?” my father walked in and I screamed at him.

“Get out! Don’t come any closer!”

I didn’t know what sign the woman gave him, but he agreed and left the room without any argument. After a moment I calmed down and pulled away, brushing the tears with hasty movements and sniffing.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked carefully as she helped me sit on the bed.

“I’m sick and tired of everything” and by everything I meant my mother’s marriage, my school problems, my half-sister’s attitude, my slavery duties … “I want to sleep”

Without digging in that subject, the older woman helped me wear my clothes and tucked me in bed, asking for the nth time if  I was sure I didn’t want anything to eat, and in every time I said no.

However, ju