The sound of a bell ringing echoed across the campus of a small-town local middle school, signaling that classes would be in session in thirty minutes. But it was quickly drowned out by the sounds of youthful laughter and declarations of “I missed you so much” echoing through the crisp early spring air. Feet pounded against the pavement as boys and girls alike ran to greet each other for the first time in months.

It was the first day of school back from winter vacation, and regardless of how many times the kids had seen each other over the break, they were still happy to be reunited on familiar grounds.

On the other side of the concrete wall surrounding the school property, a bus protested as it hissed to a rough stop and more students got off, chattering excitedly amongst each other. The air was electric with the excitement of being able to share whatever amazing things had happened to each other over their breaks.

But right before the bus’s doors closed, one girl, significantly shorter than the others, hopped off the bus steps and stared at the open school gates while chewing her bottom lip anxiously. Her expression, stiff with nerves, was in blatant contrast with the excitement that was so thick in the air that one could almost taste it.

If anything, she felt everything but excitement.

Another new school. Great.

It wasn’t like the transition was huge for her; there was never much she’d left behind at her old schools. She wasn’t extraordinary at making friends, and she learned soon enough that the few she did grow close to would never stay in her life for long anyhow. What was the point? She and her mom would have to move almost as soon as Sarang felt settled into their new neighborhood anyway, no thanks to a debt-amassing grandfather who never seemed to do much for them but get them in further trouble with the loan sharks.

Also, once people learned that Sarang lived with a single mother, every parent urged their kids to not associate themselves with her; after all, children tended to take after their parents, and society frowned upon divorcees.

Not that she was much of a crowd-pleaser to begin with, but Sarang thought it would be nice to have a friend—a real one—she could talk to when she needed somebody to lean on. Her mother was busy working most of the time, so she spent most of her time at home alone.

And try as she might to convince herself that the solitude was better than having debt collectors flinging violent threats at their door, the loneliness still felt stifling.

It was complicated; Sarang knew that there would be no point in forming long-term friendships anywhere she went, but she couldn’t help wanting someone—anyone—who would understand her situation.

Therefore, Sarang heaved a quiet sigh and stepped forth towards the group of students wearing the same uniform, following them through the school gates.

As a new face, she turned quite a few heads, but everybody soon lost interest in her lackluster presence and returned to their conversations. She stood out as rather odd among her new peers; her uniform was a couple sizes too big because her mother couldn’t afford a brand new one, so she’d simply been handed one down from a former student at Anyang Middle School. Her stocky, awkwardly-built body seemed like it had trouble moving forward on her plump legs. She stumbled over her feet every few steps and blushed in embarrassment after each time it happened.

Glancing around her surroundings once more, that familiar pit opened in the middle of her chest and away any hope she had of finding a person she’d be able to call a friend here.

I’ll be lucky just to survive the day without getting made fun of for being clumsy.

For another student at Anyang, his entrance was met with an entirely different reaction.

The moment his foot stepped past the iron gate, all heads turned and everybody’s faces lit up with welcoming grins.

“Luhan!”

“How was your break, buddy?”

“Did you have a good vacation?”

“I heard you were moved up a team at your soccer club! Congrats!”

“Of course! Who expected anything less of Luhan?”

Everywhere he turned, people were smiling and waving, asking how he’d been and expressing how much they’d missed him. And he welcomed their nice words warmly. Why wouldn’t he? If people were extending k