I woke up to a day worse than what I expected. It’s not only the clock that screeches ‘six thirty in the morning’, but also the fact that my mom did not prepare any lunch for me, nor even bothered to wake me up.

In thirty minutes, I will be late. I just know it. I grabbed my phone and hurriedly typed out:

Just woke up. I’ll be late. Don’t wait for me. I’ll bring your lunch at school. Also, had a fight with my mom so deal with the food I’ll prepare.

Then I pressed send to Kim Jongin.

I didn’t bother to wait for his reply. I got up in bed, and started preparing for school.

It was halfway during the first class when I arrived at school. The teacher couldn’t be more surprised upon seeing me at this hour, and moreover, without any explanation laid out to them. I entered the room without opening my mouth. I sat silently beside Kim Jongin who regarded me with curious eyes. Nonetheless, I kept my gaze ahead.

During lunch, “Oh,” Baekhyun breathed. “Why are your lunch different from Kkamjong’s?!”

Upon days of having no choice but to seat with Kim Jongin’s circle of friends, I learned that they call him by the name Kkamjong. And that there are six of them in their group. Today was no different. The dirty looks that the girls threw me only gotten worse, if that’s even possible.

Kim Jongin looked at me across the table and eyed me inquisitively.

“I just want to eat something different,” I lied. Though the truth is, I know I’ll never make it in time, that’s why I at least prepared his lunch, and decided to just buy mine on the way to school.

“But your lunch doesn’t quite make a difference, Kyung-Soon-ah,” Chanyeol protested –another guy from their circle of friends.

I ignored them and continued eating as fast as I can. I got up as soon as I feel my stomach already filled up.

“You’re already done?” Baekhyun asked, surprised.

“Neh. I’m out of here.” I mumbled.

There were murmurs of ‘What’s wrong with her?’ and things to that effect after that. I can feel Kim Jongin’s eyes burning in my back. I ignored it.

***

My detention, as usual, is a whole lot different than the kids out there. While they are off dusting chalk dust from erasers and sweeping off the floors, I am here checking the students’ exams, activities and more of the things to that effect. I lingered in the room longer than necessary. Some may even think I’m being remorseful coming late to school. Which would be the last thing I’ll be feeling right now. Truth be told, I just don’t want to face Kim Jongin yet. I was still angry. Ever since I made that agreement with him, my life turned 180 degrees from the norms I should encounter.

Engulfing myself in the ocean of bitterness on how my life turned out to be, I didn’t realize I had already fallen asleep. Not until someone nudged me and say words I only wish, with my dozed-off-state, I could understand.

I forced my eyes open. First, the surrounding was blurred scenery until gradually, the figures started to sharpen. I realize that I was still in the classroom and that it’s darker now than when I entered here. And one face, one man I thought about before I dozed off was the one I woke up to. How ironic.

“What are you doing?” Kim Jongin asked his eyebrows set into an annoyed state.

“What are you doing?” I echoed.

“I already finished practicing and you didn’t come.”

“Detention, remember?” I raised an eyebrow and hold up the papers in front of him to emphasize.

He started to walk towards the door, murmuring something as, ‘But detention is only an hour.’

Again, I decided to ignore that and instead, followed him immediately.

***

When we entered his room, I didn’t quite understand the feeling but I got a splash of laziness washed over me like a pale of ice cold water.

The feeling is inviting, rejuvenating and especially welcoming after a long day of taking crap and bulls from the world you just came into.

And the reason for all of that?

“You play that?” Kim Jongin asked as I practically melt the PS3 set with my fixated gaze at it.

“Of course I play.” I answered gravely. What does he think I am?

“When was the last time you played?” He asked while he s his polo and picks a shirt on his cabinet. Being here countless of times, I had been pretty much immune to the scene of a young man stripping off in front of me, thank you very much. It actually does no good to preserve my innocence especially when the one stripping in front of you is so hot and your hormones just can’t…

Shrugging those thoughts away, I scratched my head and racked my brain for answers to his question. Though I can’t get a specific date so I settled with, “A long time ago. Can’t remember.”

“Thought so.” He chuckled –a low, soft one. None of those cocky or cold or the annoying laughs he usually gives me.

He went to the play station set and began to fiddle with the wires, knowing too well, he’s bringing the machine to life.

“What are you doing?” I found myself asking.

“What do you think I’m doing? Do I really need to spell everything out for you?” Again, the annoying jerk I used to curse to sleep is back. He should have remained in the far, back dungeon of this guy’s life because at times, there’d be an angel who could actually act nice as Kim Jongin.

Finally, the television was brought to life and the welcome sound of Sony fi