I'll be lying if I didn't admit that over the next 3 years even from New York, I thought about getting back at Jiyeon somehow. But it was never anything specific. Once I dressed up a Barbie doll in a cheerleader outfit and tossed it into the giant wood chipper in the park. I grinned as the flesh-colored plastic sprayed out in tiny half-moon crescents onto the ground. Although I though about it all the time, I didn't think I would ever really do anything about the situation. Logistics alone would make it impossible. I lived half way across Earth from her. Revenge by mail didn't seem that satisfying. Not to mention there are laws against sending anthrax. I hoped my parents were right, that karma would balance things out ad Jiyeon would have some (or preferably all) of the following things happen to her:

1.  She would permanently have a very very very very bad acne condition.
2. She would suffer some type of cheerleading accident involving choking to death on a pom-pom.
3. Her hair would fall out due to a shampoo manufacturer's defect.
4. All the lies she told would come back to haunt her but turning her tongue black.

But none of these things happened. I watched her from a distance by stalking her Facebook page. I told myself I didn't care, but I couldn't stop checking to see what she was doing I kept waiting for something to go wrong for her, but nothing did. For the next 3 years she went from one success to another. She mastered the cartwheel the summer before freshman year and made the cheerleading squad. She started dating Hongki, the younger brother of the popular Yonghwa of the soap bubble fame. Hongki, like his brother before him, was the star of every team at Tiara High and looked like an Abercrombie&Fitch ad. Jiyeon was always posting pictures of the two of them, arms wrapped around each other. She was active with the drama club and a shoo-in to get the lead for senior year. She was always getting tagged in smiling groups for the camera. She would be in the middle, her giant white horse teeth reflecting the camera flash. Her friends were always posting notes on her page how she was their "BFF!!" and how her "party last night rocked!" Her friends used exclamation points for everything. She is at the top of the social ladder at Tiara High. It wasn't like I didn't have my own life. Things weren't bad or anything. I loved New York. I wasn't popular in my new school, but I wasn't unpopular either. To be honest, I was one of those people that no one noticed. When I first moved I didn't want to make friends. I felt my whole life was one exposed nerve, and I couldn't stand to have anyone close enough to touch me. By the time I wanted to make friends, everyone else has moved on. I already had the reputation of being a loner. I wore a lot of black but didn't quite go far enough to be Goth. I didn't play sports or an instrument. I liked art, but drawing isn't exactly a group activity. I didn't really put an effort into changing things. Once you've been classified into a certain role, it's hard to make a change. Or maybe it just seemed easier to be by myself. I was friendly with lot of people, but I didn't have anyone true friends. Sometimes it that there wasn't anyone to talk to me. 

The only picture of me in this year's yearbook was my stander school photo. No clubs, no sport teams, no student government. No shot of me surrounded by my friends. In fact, it would be easy to forget I existed at all.

Three years after she stabbed me in my back, Jiyeon was the queen of Tiara High, and the fact she lied and destroyed my life to be popular didn't seem to matter to anyone except me.

Sometimes Karma does a ty job of evening the score.

**Thanks for reading**