I glance at Minhyuk whose head is thrown back as gleeful laughter escape from his mouth. His small eyes which would seem to disappear whenever he smiles trigger a bud of happiness in my heart that spreads out to my entire body, right to the tip of my fingers.

We are in the living room of my house playing Street Fighters, something we would do when we think that the weather is too hot to play outside, which we actually do nearly every single day when it’s summer unless my mum chases us out so that we can get some sun (but we’d resort to his house instead when that happens because the kind grandfather who lives next door would give us some watermelons once in a while), and he is celebrating his victory over me in the last round.

“You cheated,” I exclaim, hitting him on the arm.

“Did not,”

“Did too,”

“Did not,” he repeats, and then adds, “And you should stop hitting people,”

I stick my tongue out at him before turning my attention back at the screen. “Round 2,” I announce, and hit the key to start the game.

Seeing that, he grabs his console back in a rush and pushes me lightly with his shoulder. “Now that’s cheating,”

I push him back, and within seconds we become engrossed in the game, yelling at each other and attempting all sorts of things to stop the other from winning.

I win the game at last, but I know that he was being the nice as usual and lost on purpose. Nonetheless, I say nothing about it and proceed to celebrate my triumph. He smiles, and slips his hand into the front pocket of his shorts before taking my hand and placing his fist on top of my palm. I look down at the candy he gave me and return his smile. “Is this supposed to be a congratulatory gift?”

“Sort of,” he says.

I make a face. “Tch, you cheapskate,”

“Well I’m sorry I can’t afford to buy you diamonds, Miss Song Joohee,”

“I’m not interested in diamonds though,”

“Then?”

“For starters,” I begin, giving him a knowing look, “A car would be nice,”

He throws a pillow at me, laughing, and I catch it and mush it into his face. He fights back and does the same to me. At last we break apart, with him being the first to raise the white flag like he always do, and we both fall back to the floor, breathless and sweating. The chirps of birds and cicadas outside can be heard clearly, while the two of us fall into a silence as he slips his fingers in between mine.

I glance sideways at him, and I realize that he has fallen deep into his daydreams.

Minhyuk and I met when we were seven as two outcasts amongst our circles of friends. I never liked playing dolls or make-believe family which the girls in my class always play, while he was never sporty enough to join the boys in their soccer games. He found me under the slide talking to myself while drawing something on the sand, and we became best friends ever since.

Things weren’t always bright as sunshine. There was a period of storms between us, when Minhyuk got himself a girlfriend when we were fifteen and I was too proud to admit that I was jealous seeing them together. I began dating a senior later to make him feel the same, but instead he suggested a double date. We thought it turned out alright, until each of our partner pointed out afterwards that we spent most of the date whispering to each other if not talking about our inside jokes.

Even so, neither of us wanted to acknowledge our feelings, until some time after our breakups when we found ourselves sitting side by side on the veranda of his house eating watermelon while enjoying the gentle breeze on our skin, and he was picking a seed from the tip of my lips that we realized that we were too close to each other, but neither inched away. His eyes were sparkly, and he was hesitating, so I closed my eyes, and for once, was the first to give in.

Lunch breaks filled with our loud laughter, evenings spent at the veranda of his house if not my living room catching raindrops in our hands, weekly trips to the Sunday market with popsicles in our mouth… why do they all seem so far away, like they happened ages ago in my memory? Was it because we’ve been repeating the same old jokes over and over, or the decreasing number of little notes we always pass to each other in class? Or, maybe the sparkles in his eyes whenever he looks at me are now no longer there?

His hand leaves mine just as naturally as it slipped into it, and the air between us is just as brittle as the thinnest glass. The birds and cicadas outside have stopped chirping. All we can hear now is the music from the now forgotten Street Fighters game. None of us bother to switch it off, as we both know that doing it will only leave us in complete silence.

His eyes meet mine, and I stare into them for a minute longer, knowing that someday I won’t be able to do so. For the second time in our lives, I become the first to give in.

“There’s no magic between us anymore,” I say, my voice almost a whisper.

He looks away. “How did things start to fall apart?”

“I don’t know,”

“So, it’s over, then?”

“I guess so,”

He returns his gaze at me, and there is a hint of bitterness in his eyes and voice. “But we’ll still be friends, right?”

I smile at him, and he smiles back. But we both know that we are lying to ourselves.

He gets up to his feet and makes his way to the door, out of the house, out of my life. Watching him disappear, deep inside I feel relieved. Relieved because he doesn’t need to study extra harder for all our subjects anymore so that he can answer whenever I ask for his help. Relieved because he wouldn’t have to give in for my sake every time anymore. Relieved, because now we can stop lying to ourselves.

I switch the TV off and picks up the candy he gave me. With the noise around me gone, I am left in a suffocating silence. Grasping the candy tightly in my hand, I curl myself into a ball and cry.