As I approach the gates, my feet slow down to a trot and I force myself to look downwards. To avoid attracting attention, the bullies' specifically. 

Students everywhere are spread all over the yard, milling about in their own cliques. I've safely passed the cheerleaders, who are adjusting their too short skirts and touching up makeup, and the preppies, who sit in this one huge circle giggling amongst themselves and complaining about getting any lesser than a 90% in the last examinations. The cheerleaders and preps are the worst. The former being so chirpy yet lethal, and the latter having a sharp tongue.

I don't hold back my eye roll. Bunch of ingrates. I'm lucky enough to get anything higher than a 60%. 

It is so noisy and chaotic. Jongsuk and Sungyeol, drama students, are practicing a scene in some play they're practicing for where their characters are shouting their heads off at each other and mere straws from strangling one another. I don't know what that group by the stone tables are doing, but I'm pretty sure they're playing tag (of all things), and this one particular guy keeps being 'it' and he's cursing his mouth off. I nearly run into a small robot that a couple of nerds are showcasing to the lesser nerds, and I scurry off before they start throwing their retainers at me.

I peek from under my bangs and there - right there - I see Jiyong leaning against one of the dozens of trees littered all over the school front compound,  looking like a model in my eyes. His bleached hair is shining and his perfect, perfect face is scrunched in exagerrated distaste at Seungri who probably did something wrong or the sort. I sigh dreamily and am so engrossed in oggling at Jiyong that I collide into a trashcan.

Luckily, my clothes didn't get garbage stench on it. Unluckily, I attracted attention.

“Hey, loooooser, yoo-hoo!” an avid tormentor of mine – Bom – was waving me over, an innocent smile on her lips. She is standing under a tree off to the side of the bricked pathway, flanked by her two croons Minzy and Dara. “C’mere!”

My relationship with Bom is a complex one. We used to be inseperable – before she was all popularity-driven and got her first nose job - and now, she sees it as an entertaining past time to torture me in between classes. An image of me and a 4-year-old Bom knee-deep in sand, building a moat around our girly-looking sand fort, appears faintly in my head. She used to be a lot more friendlier and a whole lot less...plastic, for a lack of a better word. I peer at her pouty lips and snow white skin. She hasn't looked the same since. Our childhood past together obviously hold no sentimental value to her when you end up being her #1 victim every single day, be it verbally or physically.

I contemplate just pretending that I didn't hear them and speed-walk away, but decide against it. If I did that, they’d probably just hunt me down later and I’d be off even worse. And I'm pretty certain she noticed that I noticed. So, being the coward I am, I obediently walk over to Bom and her goons. “Yes, Bom?” I mutter softly, stopping at a safe distance.

Bom takes one, two, three steps and that 'safe distance' gone. She has these ginormous platforms on, so she had to bend down a bit to speak to me. Minzy and Dara are each at my side, also towering over me at an intimidating height and flashing off those half-smirks that I loathe. “Accompany us to the loos for a while, no?” she asks sweetly, wrapping her shiny red fingernails around my right upper arm.

“And bring these textbooks for me, yeah?” Dara says, not even waiting for my response as she dumps the heavy stack of books into my hands.

Minzy, to my left, snickers.

People literally stop to stare at us as we enter the school hallways. Staring at the way Bom and Dara and Minzy huddle around me as we walk, as if they are predators shepherding the prey to a more desirable place to ‘eat.’ 

There are students who look away and avoid my eyes, not wanting to get involved, and ones who blatantly point at me, and ones who have too loud voices. I spot the toilets and deliberately drag my feet. I revert back to my usual pace when Dara pinches me painfully, and Minzy sticks her pointy heel in my foot. Bom hisses, "Move your fat , ," and pushes me forward.

Just as Bom is about to force me into the females', Choi Seunghyun is silmutaneously exiting the males'. I could've sworn that he and I locked eyes for an instantaneous moment. Not sure if it was my imagination or not.

Bom flashes him a quick, lecherous wink before shoving me into the toilets roughly. “Get in, freak.”

Griped by surprise, I accidentally drop all of Dara's books to the floor. I quickly drop down to pick them up, but Dara is throwing a huge fit about it and she grabs the front of my shirt and pushes me into an open stall. “What the , you , those books were ing expensive.”

I stumble backwards and slam painfully into the edge of the grimy toilet seat,  falling to the floor and my hipbone screams in pain. I only let out a small groan, afraid that they’d get angry if I’m ‘loud.’

“That hurt, ?” Minzy creepily smiles down at me, placing one pointy shoe to rest at my ankle.

I can already see where this is going. I don’t like it. 

Minzy eases the slightest of pressure onto my ankle and I'm already whimpering.

“Please,” I mumble softly, eyes pleading as I look up at her.

She and Dara exchange looks with each other.

I wait, holding in my breathes in case I let out a pathetic sob.

Suddenly, Bom stomps into the tiny stall, pushing the other two away. I forgot that she was there. I’m guessing that she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and stopped for a while to admire her own face. “Move, move,” she tells them, shooing them away with her hands. “As much as I’d like to see the widdle woser here pathetically limp around all day – I need to have a little chat with her first.”

Minzy makes a face but both of them obliged, getting out of the crowded toilet stall without so much a peep.

Only Bom and I are left in that small space. Dara and Minzy are loudly talking about “baguette” handbags. Whatever that is.

I feel really uncomfortable. Bom is just staring at me, her eyes glinting – for what, I don't know – and our s are practically touching. (Which just makes it even more suffocatingly awkward.) Stiffly, I cross my arms protectively over my chest to avoid her s from further molesting mine.

“So…” she starts, pauses, leans in real close, continues, “I heard you and Nichkhun talked.”

For a second there, I am flabbergasted. See, I even used that pompous word – ‘flabbergasted’. Is she jealous? Of me? Well, that’s a first. I attempt to sound brave but end up stammering in this high-pitched squeak. “Y–yeah.”

She glowers. I back away instinctively.

I don’t know why I’m in the wrong, anyways. Judging what I’ve heard, Nichkhun’s single. So why is she being so possessive of him? Does she like him? Oh wait, sorry me, half the female population in this school likes him. Nichkhun’s perfect boyfriend material. He’s got the looks, the brains and the brawn – plus, he’s a foreigner. Just a year ago, he was listed in the school magazine as one of the top sought out men in the whole school.

“Why’s a guy like him talking to the likes of you?” she spits, eyes narrowed into tiny little suspicious slits.

“H–h–h–” darn my stammer “he was asking me a question about the topic we were reading.”

“W-w-w-w-w-well never do it again,” she snaps at me mockingly.

She scares me, okay. And my stutter pops up when I get nervous. I don't know why I bother standing up for myself when I blurt out. “I sit behind him.” That made things worse. I really need to learn how to control my mouth.

Bom slams the walls, screaming into my ear, “Then change your ing seats you dumb ing !”

I flinch and cower, hastily nodding to appease her.

“Good,” Bom says, smiling widely, “at least the little retard knows how to take orders – Minzy!”

“Yes, Bom?” Minzy answers, pretending as if she hadn't just heard our whole one-sided conversation.

Bom elegantly steps out of the stall, wiping her hands on some tissue paper Dara helpfully hands her. She gives me her meanest look possible and then tells Minzy to “Do it.”

I only knew what Bom meant by ‘do it’ when Minzy stalks over, all smirks and pointy shoes, and stomps on my awkwardly angled foot. Hard.

I scream but she only digs her shoe into my ankle harder. I bite back the sob from spilling out of my lips. That would only satisfy them.

For a long second, I can't properly process my surroundings due to the pain. But I can hear the cackling sounds of the witches’ ugly laughing as they step out the toilets.

It takes me a long time to snap out of my blank daze. For maybe minutes, I am just staring at the bleak walls around me, wallowing in my pain and holding back the tears. It takes me an even longer time to stand up, me wincing at every small movement I make.

I head straight to the nurse’s office. I’m glad that it was the older nurse who was on duty at the time I limped in, not the younger one who only texts and never actually helps with anything. If it were her, she'd probably just hand me a band aid and tell me to it up and get back to class. 

The older nurse – she insists on me calling her ‘auntie Kim’ – auntie Kim keeps fussing over me even after she bandages me up and ice my ankle. She keeps telling me that I should just lie down and rest for an hour or two because my ankle looks nasty. At first, I refused. I just feel anxious and jittery and the hard mattress of the bed doesn't seem very inviting. But then she sort of holds up her plus-sized s threateningly at me so I reluctantly lie down.

I feel bad that I had to lie to her. When she was wrapping up my foot, she had asked me how I hurt it like that and I fibbed. I don't want to be a tattletale. People don’t like tattletales and I’m already considered as very unlikeable.

I end up dozing off to sleep as soon as I lie down, despite the lack of comfort.

It wasn’t a good sleep. I dreamt of Bom in a witch costume chasing me into this labyrinth of sorts and I get lost and I find a light, thinking I’d be free but then I end up freefalling into this pit of blazing fire where huge-sized Bom is laughing at me, shrieking in this horrid voice how it was all a trap and I fall to my doom, screaming.

I jolt awake, sweaty palms gripping at bed sheets tightly. The ice bag on my foot has melted and there's this distant buzz in my ear. I realize that the loud noise is just the sound of the students scurrying to get to afternoon assembly on time.

I squint at a clock perched on top of the nurse's desk and think, ‘how long have I slept for?’ as I rub the sleep out of my eyes. I should just get to assembly, no point postponing the inevitable.

Experimentally, I get out of the bed. My foot feels a lot better. It still hurts when I walk but I can manage.

I look around in search of the nurse who had helped me but the room is bare of anyone else except for I. So instead, I write the kind auntie a thank you note and place it on her desk. I take my morning pass and limp out of the door.

I'm at the same time glad and unlucky that assembly has started. The first being so because the corridors are completely empty. I can navigate through the hallways easily without worrying about making my condition worse. The second is because I’m late. And the huge doors that lead to the auditorium are never oiled properly. Hence, people will be staring.

I push the doors open and – of course, since the heavens never give me a break – the hinges practically shriek. I can feel the judging pairs of eyes judging me with their judging probing. As stealthily as I possibly can (with a banged up foot), I slip into a seat in between the rows, embarrassment fast creeping up my cheeks.

Fortunately, Lee Minho, my biology teacher, was so rapt in his speech that he doesn't notice my tardy. “Students are not allowed to stay in classes after school without a proper excuse – especially when such promiscuity is involved." He stops and huffs into the mic, glaring at something in the back of the auditorium.

Teacher Minho’s around his late 20s and, in class, he’s a pretty laid-back teacher, always joking around and messing about. I wonder what got him like that. I follow his train of sight and see that his gaze is directed at Hyuna, who’s huddled at the back of the auditorium with her little group of (also) queenkas. The lot of them are giggling hysterically with Seungri and Daesung. Jiyong is off to the side of the seat arrangements, a knowing little smirk on his lips. I can only raise my eyes at their behaviour.

The teacher gives them one long, steely look and then turns back to the general audience, clearing his throat before continuing, “And to all students, there will be a–”

The bell rings, signalling the start of that short 5 minutes you have to gather your books and sprint to the loos before next period starts. Students automatically start to rise from their seats and straightening their rumpled uniforms, not minding that Teacher Minho was right in the middle of his announcement.

I take my time, not wanting to get swept away in the rush. I can see Minho turning away for a second, muttering something under his breath that looks a lot like swearing. “Auditions for Romeo and Juliet will be held this Friday! Assembly adjourned,” he concludes, a hint of frustration underlying his tone.

He doesn't even need to say it, all students are already either filing out the doors haphazardly or lying back in corners, waiting for the crowds to thin out enough for them to slip through.

Ducking my head and squaring my narrow shoulders, I easily pass through the crowded door and into the school corridors. Being small and virtually unnoticeable has its advantages. The school corridors aren't any better. Everyone is touching each other, some jocks thought it’d be fun to throw around some poor kid’s backpack, and I think someone just pinched my .

I jump away, out of the crowd and my forehead smashes into someone’s locker. "Fudge!" I rub my fingers against my head to ease the pain and look up. Oh wait it’s my locker. Hastily, I grab my books and slam my locker closed. I want to get to class fast and avoid any more drama.

I delve back into the stream of students, pushing my way to the direction of my history class. I sort of hate myself that even amidst all the loud noises and the flying green backpack and the pushing and the shoving, my eyes still manage to catch a blur of bleached hair squeezing past two very burly band geeks holding matching trumpets.

"Jiyong," I mumble under my breath.

He looks really prissy, shoving other people out of his way and trying his best to avoid touching anyone (and failing). I also notice that he's heading in the opposite direction of where I'm heading. Is he -

He's heading straight at me. Oh my god.

“, sorry dude,” a huge guy equipped with equally huge ears says unintelligently when he accidentally elbows Jiyong's side – causing him to lose his footing, causing him to to tip forwards. Human Dumbo doesn't even spare him a backwards glance.

What’s worse is that I have my books in my arms so I sort of have to let all five of those textbooks to fall painfully on my big toe just to catch Jiyong from falling. All I can say is that Jiyong is surprisingly heavy for someone so slim and I seriously need to work out more.

We end up falling to the floor, limbs tangled with each other and my head hitting the marble hard. My ankle throbs painfully and my favourite toe is equally hurt. At one point of the fall, my glasses had flown off my face. So not only am I in pain, everything around me is morphing into this one huge hazy blur and Jiyong’s face being in such close proximity is doing things to my stomach.

Jiyong is dazed for a moment, still trying to process what just happened in the last five seconds. My groans of agony snaps him out of it.

“ing dammit – I am so sorry,” he starts to say, placing his arms to my side and propping himself up.

I respond with another groan, face crumpled up in pain. Not my best moment, trapped under my long-time crush and not taking the opportunity to try and appear even remotely attractive.

Jiyong suddenly leans in close to my face, eyes intently staring.

I try backing away but forgot that I'm on the floor. My face is hot and I’m pretty sure that even the tips of my ears are red.

“Are you hurt badly?” he asks me, finally pulling away and I can breathe again.

I sit up, one hand rubbing the growing lump on my head. First it was my locker, and now the floor. “S–sort of,” I stutter, blindly grabbing for my specs and putting them on.

“I thought you were a goner there – thanks anyways for trying to break my fall,” he says. “But you should’ve noted that someone your size couldn’t possibly carry someone of my weight.”

I shouldn't have put on the specs. Seeing his face in actual is just too much. Never had I thought that the day would come when Jiyong would actually talk to me. I force words to come out of my mouth, anything, however ridiculous they may be. “Was heat the in moment at,” I garble.

I mentally slap myself. Better I just shut my face hole.

Jiyong looks at me, bemused. “Cat got your tongue?” he pokes fun at me, handing me my books as we stand up. He sort of grabs me by my shoulder to help me up and it takes all of my will not to faint right there.

My mouth is open, just about to respond when some girl in a skirt plainly obstructing school dress codes and a T-shirt that has one too many buttons undone, approach us, looking prissy. As she walks nearer, I notice that it's Hyuna.

Everyone knows of Hyuna and her insane jealousy. And she looks at me, eyes angry.

“Jiyong! There you are - I've been looking everywhere for you!" Hyuna side-eyes me and then sidles up to Jiyong’s, acting cute and bubbly. “You should be talking to me,” she whispers into his ear, smiling sweetly. “I'm je-ealous.”

Jiyong doesn't answer immediately but laughs, and tells her, "Oh yeah?" The small tip of his tongue darts out and his bottom lip. "What you gonna do about it, hm?"

"I think I'll have a little chat with..." she pauses and looks me over with in a calculating manner "to talk about what happens to nerdy asss when they put their grabby hands on other people's boyfriends." Hyuna's serious demeanour suddenly changes into that of a playful grin and innocent eyes. "Kidding!"

"Ha, ha, very funny," he quips. Jiyong's eyes flickers at us, and he probably thinks that Hyuna's actually is joking (which she is most definitely not). Doesn't he smell the stench of impending death in the air? "I'll just be over there, ok? Make nice." Then he leaves us, standing few feet away.

I want to run but my feet are glued to the ground. "H-h-h-hi, Hyuna?" I gulp down the lump forming in my throat. "H-had a nice m-m-m-morning?"

Hyuna slowly turns and steps towards me, eyes lethal. “What do you think you're playing at, little miss pants?" she hisses in a voice so low that only my ears can catch. 

"Huh?" I blurt dumbly.

"Do not play this game with me, you -sniffing dish rag," she says, "or I will ruin you and the pathetic life you have, and I will ensure that it will be slow and torturous. Know your place."

"But - but - "

“Stop your blubbering!" she snaps, and my mouth falls shut. "You’re just some nobody,” she says, harshly jabbing her finger at me.

I close my eyes, willing her to go away.

“You’re a speck,” she continues. Jab.

The tears push against my eyelids, still I continue for it – for her to stop. I didn't even do anything. I was just helping Jiyong!

“You are below me,” she sneers.

Jab,  go away, jab, please, jab, just go away. 

"Know that."

Just as she is about to jab me again, a small green head pops out of my pocket and it bites her right in the finger. He slips back in just as quick and I think, oh darn, I guess I forgot to take out Geobok again.

Hyuna screams. “Oh my god! Oh my ing god! Somebody, call 911!” she cries hysterically.

Jiyong races towards us towards Hyuna. "Babe, you alright?" he asks her, face expression so worried over such a small thing and so concerned for her wellbeing that my heart cries - If only that was me.

"No, I'm not!" Hyuna screams again, gaining other people's attention. "I'm hurt!"

More and more people start to gather around us and I start feeling uneasy. There are whispers of "what happened" and "what did she do" and "did she just hurt Hyuna?" 

"The little  bit me!" Hyuna accuses.

Jiyong's face snaps towards me, eyes striking my very core. "She did what?" his voice increasing in volume.

This isn't happening. No.

"No - no - it - it wasn't me - " 

"Don't try to explain yourself!" Jiyong growls at me, pulling Hyuna closer in his embrace. 

"Yeah! Just admit to your wrong-doing, you !" some random male student pipes up, and several others yell in agreement, and several more, and several several several more.

"N-n-n-no - you don't understand - " I say desperately but my voice is too weak and soft and it is lost in the noise of the crowd yelling at me, yelling at me for something I didn't do. I look around me only to find a circle of angry, dissatisfied faces. I look to Jiyong but his eyes are cold and rigid and just looking at them slices me. Hyuna is snuggled into his chest, a wicked smiled adorning her face but no one notices. Everyone's occupied with me.

All around me are insults, insults that stab my insides and I wonder how I'm not crying already. I look to Jiyong once more, hoping that he didn't believe any of these lies. 

But.

Hyuna's right.

I am a nobody. I am one huge nameless nobody in Jiyong's eyes. A nobody that just hurt his girlfriend and acquired his hate. 

"Just leave," he snarls, glaring at me, "I don't want to see your face anymore."

That was the last straw.

I turn my heel and start running. I push past the jeering students and quicken to a sprint when I am free of the suffocating crowd. My foot swells up again yet I persisted. I run, run, run and run. I run pass the gym and the library and bite back the groan from the amount of intense pain winding around my ankle.

I push open a set of doors and find myself in the school’s music room, a small square dusty room situated in parts of the school where students never venture anymore. The doors creak shut behind me, and I am left alone in the silent room.

I sneeze. The room is near empty, save for the grand piano taking up half of the space of the room and some sheet music scattered messily on the wooden floor. I find the least dusty corner of the room, slump down to a sit and let the tears fall. 

In mere seconds, I'm a sniffling, blubbering mess. Snot is running down my nose and horrible sobs are wrenched out my throat.

Geobok crawls out of his hiding place and ambles up my shoulders, face pressed comfortingly against my neck.

“Oh, Geo, what am I going to do?” I cry. I let out a particular sob and it wrecks through my whole body, making me shake violently. Dust bunnies get caught in my ponytail. “Hyuna - Hyuna - she - senior Jiyong hates me.” I pause to blow my nose. “Why – why are people such bullies?”

The deafening silence is an answer enough.

I turn my head, looking into Geobok’s eyes. It is as if he wantsto say something to me – but who am I kidding? Geo’s just a turtle. Nothing more, nothing less. I should just stop kidding myself. I should stop alluding myself with these fantasies whereI have a fairy godmother that helps me get Jiyong. I should stop thinking that Geobok actually sees me as a friend - because, let's face the facts, he's a turtle and no one likes me. I should stop my heart falling so hard for Jiyong. I should just stop.

I force out a laugh. “Oh yeah, it slipped my mind, turtles don’t talk,” I croak, wiping my tear-stained cheeks. “And I just need someone to talk, to talk to me.”

The bell rings, and the next, and the one after that, but I don't bother getting to class.

I stay in the same spot, crying.

At one point, I fall asleep.

I wake up to Geobok nudging at my stomach. I feel the absolute worst. There is a crick in my neck and my head's hurting and my ankle’s gotten worse and I think my big toe is swollen. I don't have to check my watch to know that school has long since ended. “I’ve been asleep for so long…?” I mumble to myself, yawning.

School has finished over an hour ago. I missed a whole day of school. Huh. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a voice squeaks how "mother would be livid if she knew of this" and, honestly, I don't care.

I bring my hands up to touch my face. Feeling with my fingertips, I know that my eyes are red and puffy and ugly. I sigh tiredly.

“Let’s get home, Geo,” I say, scooping up Geo in my hands and putting him back in my pocket. I hobble over to the doors and hesitantly open them. The hallways are grey and bare and seem somewhat longer due to the evening light.

Typically, the school is empty.

I limp past rooms and rooms of empty classes and find myself stopping in front of one door. It's Jiyong’s classroom. My own classroom is situated at the opposite wing. So when the last bell rings, I would dash here and stand in front of his classroom, pretending I'm opening someone else's locker just to get one glimpse of him.

Is that weird?

I shake the thoughts away and ask myself, ‘Why am I such a masochist?’ and I turn the knob. I don't know what I expect when open the door. Rainbows of sunshine or a group of half- Calvin Klein models to carry me into their arms, I don’t know.

Unbeknowst to me, what lies behind that door is definitely something I didn't want to see.

Inside I find Jiyong and Hyuna, sprawled all over the teacher's desk and mouths pressed against one another. Hyuna has her spindly legs wrapped around Jiyong’s hips, and Jiyong's hands were exploring every inch of Hyuna's skin.

I can only stare as their bodies grind and twist in each other's embraces. My heart is hurting but my eyes just can't seem to tear away from the scene splaying out in front of me.

So this is what Teacher Lee Minho meant by 'promiscuity'.

I am wary enough of my actions that they hadn't hear the door open. Well, that's what I thought. Hyuna did notice me. The whole time Jiyong is plastered to her neck, she maintains steady eye contact with me, even chancing a wink.

“Yeah, that’s right, G-baby,” she purposely moans, her eyes locked to mine as if taunting me. To get at me.

I break out of my disbelief when she starts reaching for Jiyong’s flyer.

“I–I’m sorry!” I yell out. I can't even begin to fess how stupid I am for openly admitting that I was peeking in on them. I don't wait for a response – couldn’t. I slam the door shut and fast-limp behind some lockers not far from the room, my heart beating rapidly against my ribcage.

I breathe in and out shakily, in, out, in, out, in - my legs crumple beneath me. There's no energy left in me  as I drop to the floor, the unshed tears blurring my vision.

In that moment, as Hyuna's trying to calm down the furious shouts from Jiyong, I congratulate myself.

You're doing a great job making him hate you, Jin-Ju.

Then I cry for what seems to be the second time that day, shoving my fist into my mouth to muffle out the sounds.

Notes: *I read somewhere that most schools in South Korea start at 8/10 and finish at late at night. I can't even stand a single hour at my school

EDIT (8/5/2014). And the school hours are back to what any normal school outside of Korea would have. About 8 am to 4/5 pm.