There's someone new in school today. Someone special. She seems to attract light, her smile so bright and welcoming, drawing everyone to her for a brief, bright brilliant smile, like you have been graced with the presence of someone so high above all of us.

Yet, she doesn't know me. She doesn't know me, but she knows everyone. But she doesn't know me. 

"It's different," I say to Jiyong, "it's different." 

It's different in the way we interact and it's different in the way she smiles. It shows, in the way she looks at me, the split moment before her smile sets into place. The slight pause before locking that mega-watt smile in place- she's something. And she's really good at hiding.

Jiyong and I have become good friends over the past few weeks. Not good good, but we can at least tolerate each others presence in that hour of counselling session. Or maybe mostly it's just me, because Jiyong just sits there and does his stuff, without caring about me like he knows that I will say it when I do, and it's annoying because I do do that. And he's always the first, because its only during those pocket of silences that I get to truly and seriously think about what I want to do, untangle my crazy feelings and really think and become the real Chaerin. And then I just tear or cry because it makes me feel so much better and I forget about his existence each time after I break from my reflection that it's too late to recall him and then.

And then. 

He also does this one thing where he stares at you without blinking and waits for you to respond. I dislike that because I know he bloody sugarcoats it and tells the scientists that we are learning because you, I know I have regressed for so damn long that it hurts. But each time he does it I feel a bit closer to him. Maybe because he's new, someone that hasn't already had a cemented idea on me, someone that I don't have to worry about leaving me after telling him how I feel.