Oh, no! You idiot, Jung Sarang!

She scrambled to get out of bed and checked the clock on her bedside table to make sure she was seeing it right. The time 7:12AM blinked back at her angrily, and she mentally berated herself as she clumsily untangled herself from her covers and ran for the bathroom, stubbing her toe along the way. “Oww!” she whimpered as she brushed her teeth hastily, ran a brush through her mess of a head of hair, and washed her face. She was in such a hurry that she almost forgot to change into her uniform.

It wasn’t that she was late to school; classes started at 7:45AM, and the school was a mere fifteen minute bus ride from the apartment complex.

No, she was upset that she’d missed her chance to catch the first bus to school with her new bus buddy. She and her parents had spent the entire night prior settling into the new apartment, and she’d gone to sleep much later than she was used to. Her mom had already left for work, and there had been nobody to wake her up on time.

With her first opportunity to see her bus buddy before school began, the rest of her classes just seemed so dull. She’d been so looking forward to seeing him and brightening up her day with one of those miracle-working smiles of his. His warmth and genuine kindness had charmed Sarang, and she wanted to experience more of it.

She didn’t even get to see him during lunch because their periods were different.

But she did hear the exciting news that several selective college preparatory high schools had scouted him to be on their soccer team. According to the girls Sarang overheard from a couple desks over, Luhan was reputed to be quite the athlete. She’d never been into sports, but she found herself wanting to learn about soccer just so she’d be able to understand all the jargon that was being tossed back and forth—what’s a striker?—and know more about something that Luhan enjoyed.

Once school was let out, Sarang walked out of the front door alone, her head ducked as usual. Several students jostled her as they squeezed past, and she shrank further into herself than before; she’d always been self-conscious of her stocky build, her shoulders that seemed too wide for a girl, the fat that poked out from the top of her school uniform skirt, her slight underbite, her ghostly pale complexion…

While her brain listed out all her physical imperfections, she ducked her head even further down, like she was hiding from the view of her peers, and quickened her pace only to stumble over her own foot.

Nothing ever goes right for me, she sighed, but her ears picked up on someone calling her name from not too far behind her.

“Sarang! Hey, Jung Sarang!”

Me? A little surprised that someone knew her name, Sarang turned around and saw the perfect boy—Luhan—waving at her with the brightest smile she’d ever seen. She watched, star-struck, as he quickly bade his friends goodbye before running to catch up with her—her, Jung Sarang, the nobody—so that they could walk to the bus stop together.

“You know, Bus Buddy,” Luhan pouted unhappily, nudging her arm with his elbow, “you made me ride all alone this morning. I thought maybe you didn’t wanna be seen with me.” Sarang nearly choked on her own breath. It’s much likelier to be the other way around. Furthermore, she was positive that everyone within hearing and seeing vicinity were staring at the two of them. And while one half of her was beyond delighted that he was willing to leave his friends to be her “bus buddy,” the other half of her had a bad feeling about being seen with the school’s most perfect boy so often.

It wasn’t long before others began to take notice of the unlikely friendship budding between the most popular boy in school and the strangely quiet new girl. Of course there was disbelief—“Are they related? Could the perfect genes have skipped over her side of the family?”—and the expected jealousy:

“Who does she think she is, always trying to get Luhan’s attention?” scoffed Kim Miyoung, the established queen bee of Anyang Middle School. She was best known for being the girl whose mom had connections with the owner of a large fashion retail center in Seoul, and therefore owned the prettiest clothes in the neighborhood. “Where did she come from anyway?”

Of course nobody knew of Sarang’s background; she never spoke to anybody, and even with Luhan, she mostly listened while he did the talking.

But Miyoung wasn’t happy that the boy she liked was spending so much time with the less attractive, awkward girl who was even a potential mute. So she rounded up her best friends and cornered Sarang in the school bathroom after lunch.

Sarang had been washing her hands when four girls approached her by the sinks. She blinked at them and immediately lowered her gaze to her shoes. Miyoung gave her a condescending scan from head to toe, taking in her oversized uniform, secondhand shoes, and her less-than-perfect prepubescent build. “Hey, new girl. What’s your name?”

Sarang willed her tongue to work, for to open and answer the question. It’s not even that difficult a question, Sarang. Your name is exactly that: Jung Sarang.

But her brain refused to oblige and she remained silent with her lips pursed.

Unfortunately for her, Miyoung didn’t take to her silence very well. “Are you ignoring me?” she asked, her voice pinched. She wasn’t famous for being patient.

Sarang shook her head once, and Miyoung’s eyebrows pinched together in the middle. “Then are you mute?”

Again, Sarang shook her head.

“Then why won’t you answer me?” This time, her tone was shrill, but she urged herself to calm down. If Luhan likes this girl for whatever reason he does, and he finds out that I scared her, he’ll get mad at me. So Miyoung forced a fake smile across her lips and crossed her arms. “So,” she began again, her tone suddenly sugary sweet, “you’re friends with Luhan?”

Sarang hesitated. Are we friends? She had to think; she’d never had a friend before. But they rode the bus to and from school together now. Whenever they saw each other in the hallway at school, he’d stop and take a few minutes of his time to talk to her, to ask her about how her day was going. He’d invite her out with his friends whenever they went to get food or go to an arcade (even though she always turned him down.)

Were those things that friends did for each other?

Not quite sure how to answer, Sarang just gave one hesitant nod.

Miyoung’s smile widened. “That’s great! We’re friends with Luhan too, and a friend of Luhan is a friend of ours.” She nudged her friends to smile as well, and they did their best to look friendly. “We were actually going to get some ddukbokki after school today. Luhan sometimes treats us to a couple after school snacks.”

Sarang