He’d had enough. He just couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t live with himself knowing Sun-Hee was out there screwing his best friend. They hadn’t even officially broken up, yet she’d gone seeking solace in the arms of another man? How could something so sweet end so bitterly? Why was it always like this with literally every relationship?

What was he even doing there? His girlfriend of two years and his best friend of six didn’t give a about him. His parents sure as hell didn’t either. Other than Ricky, his friend, there was no one he could talk to about this—no one else.

He was heading back to his dorm to pack up his stuff. He didn’t think he could stay there anymore—not with all the going on with him, Ricky, and Sun-Hee, but someone’s voice called out to him.

“Hey! Min-Kyung!”

He turned and watched as one of Sun-Hee’s friends jogged toward him. She was a year older than Sun-Hee, but they’d met at an internship program the summer before they started college. He’d met her maybe once before. Sun-Hee had mentioned that there was something complicated going on with her name, that she’d changed it once or twice, but he couldn’t remember exactly what it was and didn’t care to try. But he knew the name she went by today was Meaghan.

She was cute and dressed much like Sun-Hee did: chic and girly. But the style that had once been appealing now repulsed him. He tried not to glare too harshly as she came to a stop in front of him.

“The principal wants to see you.” She huffed, handing him a piece of paper.

He took it and read it. It was the pass that excused him from his classes—the ones he was just going to skip anyway—for the day. He scowled at it.

“Why?” He demanded.

“I’m not sure. Something about showing a new student around the school I think.”

If looks could kill, the paper would’ve burst into flames. Why the hell would the principal want him—someone who got straight C’s in a good year—to show the new kid around? Was there not a valedictorian or something available?

“What do I care about some new student?” He growled aloud. “I don’t owe him anything.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Actually, the new student is a girl.”

“Still don’t give a .” He stormed toward the main office building of the college with Meaghan (or whoever) trailing behind him. This just screwed up his plans of leaving campus.

Meaghan stared at his back with a wary mixture of curiosity and appraisal. Min-Kyung walked through the glass double doors and went to the secretary’s desk. Mrs. Parker looked up at him and smiled cheerily, though it didn’t match the tired look in her gaze. When she took in the scowl on his features, her smile dimmed somewhat.

“Go right in, sweetie.” She said. “He just went to the bathroom, so he’ll be back soon.”

Without a word, he left Meaghan behind and went into the principal’s office. She stared at him until the door shut, and then she moved on to her next assignment.

There was another girl sitting in one of the chairs in front of the desk. She was bobbing her head slightly to the music he could hear playing faintly through her ear buds. She was playing with a long piece of string whose ends had been tied together. There was a cello case leaning against the wall on her right.

She jumped as he plopped into the chair beside hers. She picked up her purple iPod off of her knee and stopped her song. She directed a bright smile in his direction. It was a genuine expression that hid nothing, completely unlike the tantalizing mysterious ones Sun-Hee used to give him.

“Hi.” She greeted.  “I’m Keiba.”

“Min-Kyung.” He replied. “You can call me Min.”

“Min? Huh, okay. Nice to meet you.” She detached her fingers from the string and offered her hand.

He took it.

There weren’t any sparks as there palms met or butterflies or sparkly feelings in their stomachs. It was just a simple handshake. The only notable thing about it was the contrast of their skin tones: hers a deep brown against his lightly tanned one. Her hands were also calloused, but not necessarily rough against his because they were warm. And her grip was firm despite the fact that his hand completely eclipsed hers.

He wouldn’t admit to anyone but himself that he was slightly intimidated by that fact.

Keiba released his hand and leaned back in her seat to resume playing with her string. He watched her hands dexterously contort the string into many different shapes and patterns, mesmerized.

“Ever get that thing tied up in knots?” He found himself asking.

She looked at him. “What?”

He opened his mouth to repeat the question, but the principal decided then to walk in.

“Sorry about that.” He apologized, walking around them to sit in his chair. “So I assume you and Keiba have already started getting acquainted, Min-Kyung?”

He clenched his jaw, slightly annoyed with the principal’s use of his full name.

“Keiba, would you go and wait outside the room for a couple of minutes?”

“Sure.” She put her iPod in her pocket, hoisted her backpack over her shoulders, and picked up her cello with relative ease. The door closed softly as she sat in one of the chairs outside of the room.

“Now,” the principal leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his flat stomach. “You’re probably wondering why I chose you and not someone else to do this.”

He waited for Min to agree, but he remained silent.

He sighed. “Well, to be completely honest, this isn’t how we normally do things here at Jarsten. Obviously, we have… higher-ranked people to do this job, but I figured you’d appreciate the extra credit.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Extra credit?”

“If you complete this task and remain in contact with Keiba at least until she gets settled in her classes, I’ll increase your percentage points so that you have a B-average. But that’s only if you do this. Understand?”

Min nodded. He supposed it was little work for a lot of gain. Besides, it shouldn’t take her too long to get acclimated; she seemed like a pretty smart girl. He wouldn’t have to leave if he actually had a chance at this school.

“I figured you would. Now go and give her that tour.”

He stood, resisting the urge to salute him, and left the room. He looked down at Keiba and she looked up at him, trusting yet guarded. Her eyes were like the eyes of a small child regarding her new stepparent.

Min nodded toward the door. “Let’s go.”

She got out of her seat. “Mmkay.”