I don't need pathological liars in my life, that's for sure. A dentist, maybe, but not liars.

"It's time to wake up, Jojo!"

"Dad, go away!"

"You're going to be late if you don't get up!"

"Like I care!"

"Jojo.."

"Don't call me that!"

"Listen, sweetie..."

"Do you want me to kill myself?"

"No, honey, why would you say such an awful thing like that."

I think my dad makes a habit of lying to me.

I groan. "This is completely stupid! It's friggin 5:40AM! School doesn't start until 7!"

"Are you into that beautyrest stuff now?" He pats my bed ridden hair and smiles, "You don't need it." He kisses my forehead and goes towards the door. "Hurry up, mom's making crepes."

"I don't even like eggs" I mutter to myself.

I wipe the drool off my chin and try to fix my messy hair. I hear a cough in the doorway but refuse to get involved.

"It's cute that you think sleep is going to cure that hideous deformity that is your face. Trust me, even the most experienced plastic surgeons couldn't fix that mop."

MinByung doesn't lie, but I wish she would.

"Don't you have other lives to ruin?"

She chuckles evilly, "Please, you know as well as I do that your life was before I got here. I'm just simply...making sure your suffering as much as I am. It wouldn't be fair if I was the only one affected poorly by this...situation." She twirls her hair around her finger.

I wish she would give up being bitter over her parents divorce. Not to say it's not the most horrible feeling in the word, but kids are literally dying of hunger while she broods with a full belly over a relationship she couldn't control

"Look, could you somewhere else? I kind of need to get ready to be productive." I jog past her and into the bathroom before she can even create an insult.

Control. I want a robot.

Breakfast is wonderful, as always. Except for the part where I don't eat any of it, as always. How hard is it to remember I don't do eggs?

I look over at dad, "My birthday is coming up."

"Your birthday is not until May."

I shrug, "Your point?"

Dad's wife looks at me oddly, "Today is August 12th."

Her response is irrelevant.

I've always wanted a treehouse.

I've wanted one since I was four. It's been at the top of every Christmas and birthday list for as long as I can remember, yet it's the one thing I have not received. God, I hate my life.

"I'm heading out. Biyu promised to wait for me at the gate and if I take too long she'll get angry." I grab my bag and reach for lunch box.

"It has eggs in it."

"I'm gonna hang myself!" MinByung laughs follows me out of the house.

*   *   *

Biyu is the cheese to my macaroni. Or the cookie to my fortune, rather. She's Chinese.

"I don't know what's so hard to understand about the words, DON'T MAKE ME WAIT FOR YOU LIKE AN IDIOT AT THE GATES!" She's proper pissed. Her face is flustered from yelling and her knuckles are white from her tight grip on her bag straps.

I smile, "I'd offer you some excuse if I could, but I can't. I've literally almost got mugged on my way to school."

Her sharp eyes throw me a harsh glare, "You know I hate when people use literally in such a careless and idiotic manner! You don't have to say you literally did something, because you did. Just say you did it!" She pinches the bridge of her nose. "Are you trying to make me angry?"

"Not at all, really. I'm...just feeling a bit off today."

She crosses her arms, "Did you get your period?"

I blush at her bluntness. "Not yet. Geez! Are you trying to cause a scene? People are within hearing distance." My smile falters. "I'm just really tired, Yu. Not like no-sleep-too-many-fanfictions-to-read tired. More of is-my-life-ever-going-to-begin tired."

Her defensive hold is broken and her eyes soften. Her stance becomes one of a mother hen cuddling her chick. "Nah! You've just got a case of the monday's. Some orange juice will fix you right up. We'll get some before the bell rings."

We link arms as we enter the school, maneuvering as best we could through the student body. A senior knocks into my side, which causes me to fall into Biyu's direction. Which, in turn, causes her to push some poor freshman down, struggling to keep us standing.

And what does that senior say?

"Get out of my way."

I hate seniors!

"Are you okay?" We asked the poor kid on the ground. He nodded quickly while collecting his textbooks. And then the bell rang.

"No orange juice this morning, Love."

God, I hate Kris Wu.

*   *   *

Lunch is a different situation on its own. There is a separation of cliques, a barrier between the have its, the have nots, and the i-don't-give-a-s. My group somehow falls within the have nots, unfortunately.

There's Biyu, who'd probably be a lot more popular if she weren't a sophomore and so bipolar.  There's InSoo, who's so afraid of human contact she would probably lock herself in a room for at least a decade. She's smart though and has a sweet personality, but that won't get you in high school. Then there is me. JooHa. Nothing special, there's even a laugh in my name to show what a joke I am.

The have its and i-don't-give-a-s are not worth mentioning because they don't care. Not about school, grades, or others feelings, mainly ours.

"Somethings gotta give."

InSoo looks up from behind her book, eyebrow raised.

"I've tried playing it cool, but..."

Biyu slams her hand down on the table, "Are you really doing this right now?"

"What?"

"One Direction."

I huff. "Why you gotta be so mean?"

"Now Taylor Swift?"

I take InSoo's book from her hands, "And a liar and pathetic."

"And alone in life and mean!" giggles InSoo.

"Not you too, Soo! You're the only sane person I have left!" Biyu whined.

I laugh at her now pouting face, "You're so dramatic!"

InSoo and Biyu gaze at me stupefied. "Says the girl who shouts 'I'm going to kill myself' every second of the day. Better come at me with something else, , 'cause your argument is invalid." Biyu and I ignored InSoo's gasp at Biyu's vulgar mouth.

I calmly roll my eyes and scan the cafeteria. I was not looking for anyone in particular. Well, I was. But you don't need to know why I'm looking for, or rather at, him right now. He is untouchable in the worst way.

"Making googly eyes at Kai is not going to do anything for you, babes." And I already knew that. I knew that no matter how...intrigued he made me, I would never catch his eye. "You are crushing on something that is, unfortunately, out of your league." Biyu stated bluntly.

"You think I don't know that." I mumbled as I brought attention back to her. "It's not even that I like him, or whatever."

InSoo, who had returned to her romance novel, looked my way, "Oh?"

I shrug. "Yeah. I just can't figure him out, you know? Like, he's like one of the characters in your novels. The male lead that only shows one side, the cold side, of his personality. On the contrary, you find him to be a very inspirational and 'round' character with wants, fears, and dreams."

"Hmmm."

I skeptically watch InSoo and Biyu have a mental conversation.

"What are you two thinking?" I asked warily.

Biyu keeps a steady gaze, while InSoo encroaches within herself. How does she make herself look so small?

"Oh nothing. You just seem really...thoughtful about it is all." Biyu says nonchalantly, but there is something in her eyes that says otherwise. I choose not to question it.

"If it helps", InSoo squeaks, "you're the first girl I have ever heard talk about Kai without only making references to his appearance."

"But there is so much more than that!" I says desperately. "No one sees that, in anyone."

She looks at me sadly, "That is just the way it is."

This is depressing.

"You want to go shopping on Thursday?" Biyu ask offhandedly.

I shrug and InSoo doesn't reply. We know she's going to join us because she has nothing better to do.

A heavy silence falls over the table.

I hate it, because I caused it.

I cough. "What's green and has four wheels?"

Biyu looks unamused, but willing to take the bait. "What?"

InSoo, though her eyes are locked in her latest read, is listening intently.

"Grass. I lied about the four wheels."

A small smile forms on InSoo's face as she zones back into the world of fiction.

Biyu, on the other hand, kicks me under the table.

And I can't be angry at her, because she's fighting back the giggles that are rumbling in her being.

I don't tell these two enough that I love them.

"I hate you." I say lovingly.

Biyu sends me a seductive wink, "Love you too, babes! And you too, little miss literature."

InSoo nods, but says nothing. Her affections are displayed in gentle touches and soft looks, not being one for verbal statements. She doesn't need to say it now. She says it to us all the time.

*   *   *

"What do you know about sadness?" Mrs. Kwon asks our art class.

I know everything about sadness.

Today is strange. The junior P.E class was shuffled into the corner of our art room because of some mishap on the gym floor. The junior P.E class that Oh Sehun, Huang Zi Tao, and Kim Jong In were registered in. Why is fate so cruel?

"Oh really? And what exactly is sadness then, JooHa?" I look perplexed at my teacher.

"Excuse me?" I ask defensively.

"Were you not the one whom replied to my question?"

My eyes grew wide, "I said that out loud?"

My classmates snickered, some looking at me sadly. Mrs. Kwon glared at me.

"Yes you did. So enlighten us please."

I shrug. "Well, sadness is...cold? Yeah, its cold. Sadness is lonely and it's a divorce and a broken family and a wounded heart. Sadness, I can't put it into words. Just..." I sigh.

"So, sadness is agony?" She asks impatiently.

"No. It's everything. Love, passion, and life. Like,

Sadness.

Oh kindled spirit, This is a sadness I have never known

Not of those strapped to bitter memory and regret

No.

It is one pressed of desires, unattained pleasures, moonlit eyes

The sadness could be called love by others

But to me it is a shackle

It is  chain that clips my wings and strips me of my former self.

"Sadness is different for everyone. I don't expect you to understand my knowledge of sadness." I finish exasperated.

She acknowledges my attempt. "Nicely stated, but personal. Sadness is personal students. And with that, we will begin our section on art inspired by the Holocaust."

As everyone gathers their easels and shading pencils, I roam to the back corner to retrieve a sharpener.

"I understand." I catch as proceed to the front once more. Looking back I make eye contact with Kai. No, Kim Jong In, whom I have found to be a complex and hidden personality hidden under the dark façade that is Kai. As I watch the flicker of emotion cross his eyes, it's gone soon after. "What are you looking at, freak?"

Kai is back and I return to my seat.

I don't need pathological liars in my life, that's for sure. A dentist, maybe, but not liars.