“You did the right thing, Kyungie,” Baekhyun assured me as he gave me a pat on the back, Wednesday morning after the exams are over.

I haven’t talked to Jongin after that. Not that he tried to talk to me either. There’s also no use tutoring him now even if the most critical stage of high school is coming up and that’s when he needed the help the most. What for? To see the maniacal smile that creeps on his face because finally, oh finally he was able to get the girl of her dreams while I stand there dumbly, wishing on the stars it was me? No thanks.

And I had already accepted the fact that I am not going to graduate as the batch’s valedictorian though it wasn’t easy. I couldn’t even get to blame anybody but myself because really, all of it is my fault, right?

“I’m not going to be the valedictorian,” I said gravely burying my head on the desk.

“We still don’t know that, Kyungie,” he said, trying to comfort me though I could hear the slightest doubt on his voice too.

I didn’t get to pass a project for P.E. and I haven’t aced my quizzes either. I let stupid emotions get in the way of studies. What actual valedictorian does that?

I am not the valedictorian, plus I am going to graduate with a broken heart. Oh this is the consequence of me being so damn greedy for grades these past few years. I hit my head on the desk.

Ms. Miles entered the room carrying a paper that could only be that of the ranking. In the past few years, a day like today is the most exciting event of my life. But now I only dreaded this day to come. She didn’t beat around the bush (but I wish she did) and announced, congratulations, our batch’s valedictorian is –

Dan dan dan dan

“ –So Kyung Soon!”

Okay, congrats girl, thinking to myself grimly before

–what?

“Kyungieeeeeeeeee congrats!” Baekhyun boomed, giving me a bear hug that nearly crushed my bones into pieces.

“But Ms. Miles I haven’t –“

“Don’t be so modest, Kyung-Soon-ah, the costume you made is so brilliant! The camera angles are so perfect, and the part of your choreography is as smooth as your skin!” she spazzed shamelessly.

“And Kim Jongin’s movements –“ she continued. I bet she’s going to fan girl too –

“Where’s Jongin?” I suddenly blurted out and the room was too noisy for anyone to take to account that I ever asked a question.

I sprinted and ran to the only place I know he would likely be.

And sure enough, there on the rooftop, arms above his head, lying lazily on the floor is the same old Kim Jongin that took my breath away these past three weeks. I flopped down beside him.

“Thanks,” I said, thinking of the easiest way to get up if he ever decided to give me a punch in the face.

One eye remained close while the other opened to peer at me from beside. He got up slowly, and I did too, deciding that maybe he doesn’t plan on punching me after all.

“You got first?” He asked, the lazy drawl on his voice ringing to my ears, a weird symphony.

“Yeah,” I nodded.

“Congrats.”

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