CHAPTER ONE

I have been tapping my fingers on my desk for who knows how long. I did not realize what I was doing until the scorn-looking classmate a few seats in front of me turns her back and raises a brow at me. Seriously though, what harm does my tapping inflict on her? Such a lousy head, she is. I doubt I'd ever be friends with her. Sure it does make some weird sounds, but can't she tell me to stop in a better and more civilized way? 

Okay, I guess I woke up at the wrong side of the bed this morning. Maybe she did too, judging by the grey mood painted all over her face. Well, as for me, I just happened to have an incredibly annoying roommate who happened to spend her whole evening watching some strange movie on her laptop. Worse, she had been shrieking all night and endlessly mumbling how gorgeous whoever the actor was.

I called the only person I can count on to when I was so desperate to get myself into sleep, but he did not even answer his phone. It strucked me that maybe this is exactly what college do to people -- it changes everyone. He used to answer my calls on the first few rings. I never had to try the second time. Like a crybaby, I hid myself  under my comfort pillow, the purple heart-shaped one that he gave me on my sixteenth birthday, and slept with my tears. I know it's overly dramatic, but hey, I am away from home for the first time in my life and I am definitely anxious.

I stare at the classroom's door as I balled my hands in a fist and tucked them into the pocket of my black cardigan to stop myself from tapping on the desk again, which is an old anxiety habit of mine. 

I am getting nervous for each second that ticks. Since I got a bloody stare from that not so pleasing classmate, ten others have already entered throught the door. Still, there is no sign of him. 

Classmate number eleven enterred, silencing the murmuring noise of the group of girls a few desks away from where I am seated. 

"Is that him?" I hear one girl ask.

What, is that classmate number eleven some sort of celebrity? Well, that could not be too impossible. I mean, look at him. He looks every inch like a typical celebrity going into college. When I look at him, the first thing I see is his smirk. Let's just say it's the highlight of his outfit. I guess this is another one I don't want to be friends with.

He pauses by the door and scans the classroom with his eyes, perhaps looking for some decent seat. I catch his eyes as he held mine and winks. I was right! I was so right. He's every inch of a cocky airhead.

He shifts his eyes on the seat next to mine and I panicked. Well, at least in my mind. There's no way I'd show him or anyone else. I grab my backpack from my lap and place it to the empty seat. The seat is reserved. 

I begin wishing I was having some weird assumptions as he heads to where I am. With the strap of his bag hanging on his shoulder and his button-down shirt not completely buttoned, the perfect outfit for screaming I-am-your-stereotypical-playboy aura and the bad boy image is definitely at its best... or worst, actually.

I just don't get why bad boys are too mainstream.

And my assumption is now confirmed. He stops right beside the empty desk and leans on it. 

"I believe a student gets only one seat," he says with gleaming confidence. I have to admit though, he has nice teeth.

His eyes are directly into mine, and I look away. "Yeah." I fiddle with my fingers. "But this seat beside me is, uhm, taken."

"By who? Your boyfriend?" He sounds like it would be so amusing if I had one. 

I raise a brow and crossed my arms in front of my chest. "Yes."

He scoffs and shurgs. "I don't know. I just thought you had a big neon signage of I-am-still-single right above your head when I saw you."

What does that supposed to mean? Scram, you cocky airhead!

"Look, this seat is taken. If you look around, in case your eyes are perfect functioning, you can see vacant and unoccupied seats around this room. I don't think it concerns you if this seat is taken or not."

"Well it does, sweetheart." He winks. 

Sweetheart? Oh, I think I am going to puke.

"I was hoping to have a wonderful seatmate to start off college the right way." He adds before lifting my bag and taking the seat. Can't he understand simple statements?

"I told you, this is taken." I try to say calmly.

"I promise I'll ask permission from your boyfriend when he arrives. I'll save you from the trouble, sweetheart. Well, that is if he arrives."

He'll arrive. Well, not my boyfriend because I don't have one, but my best friend. We're supposed to be on this class together, so he'll definitely arrive. Maybe just a bit late, right?

It suddenly sinks in to me. He never gets late. I realize I haven't seen or at least talked to him since yesterdy. Last time I heard from him, he cancelled shopping together. He never even gave me an explanation. 

Did I do something to him? Did I say something that made him mad? Is he avoiding me? Doesn't he want to spend college with me? But hey, isn't this what we planned for ourselves since third grade? 

As if to stop me from my thoughts at the right time, the door creaks and in comes the person I've been waiting for exactly. He is wearing the blue v-neck shirt I gave him on his birthday, which fits perfect fine on him as always. His curly brown hair is messy, but gorgeous as hell. And the way he walks in... oh, his strides are always an art for me. Okay, that's an exaggeration. But, you get what I mean, right?

"Yixing!" I call his name and he smiles at me. He has the smile that could make me forget everything except for the way his lips curve and reach his eyes. But today, it did not quite reach his eyes. I wonder why.

"Your boyfriend?" Cocky guy asks, making Yixing pause for a second.

"Hey, Soojung." Yixing pats my head as he reaches my seat. "Found a new friend?"

"Definitely not!" I reply firmly before turning to Mr. Cocky Guy and raising a brow at him. "He's here, so off you go."

"Hey man, can I have this seat next to your girlfriend?" 

I want to punch his face and break his nose. Literally.

I shake my head, looking at Yixing and telling him to fight for the seat I reserved for him. 

"I'll sit here." Yixing takes the seat in front of me, the one beside a Goth-looking guy who is so into his own world with his headphones. 

"Excuse me." I poke Mr. Goth Guy. "If you don't mind, can we exchange seats?"

I hear Mr. Cocky Guy scoff and the urge to punch him is on activation mode again.

Without saying anything, Mr. Goth Guy scrambles from his seat and there was my success. I guess I can be friends with Mr. Goth Guy. I march to the seat he vacated and settle myself, hearing an incoherent babble from Mr. Cocky Guy.

"Hey, are you okay?" I ask Yixing. He is unusually quiet today and it bothers me. The usual him would bombard me with endless stories, even nonsensical ones. 

He nods, but I am definitely not convinced. I know him too well to get fooled. 

"You're not."

"Soojung." The way my name rolls on his lips have always been heavely except for today. It gets me nervous.

"Mmmm?" 

He grabs my hand from my lap and grips on it tightly. Yixing is going through something and he's not telling me. Is he telling me now?

I look at his eyes and see something I haven't seen since I knew him. I want to hug him, but something is stopping me.

"I talked to your parents last night." He says, turning his head to look at me. He smiles a weak one. "I asked them again about, you know, having you stay with me in my apartment throughout college."

"And?" The tension suddenly became excitement.

He nods. "They agreed."

I cover my mouth with the hand not clasped into his to prevent myself from shrieking. 

I guess by now you figured it out. I'm in love with my best friend. He doesn't know though. At this time, I have the strong urge to tell him the three magic words, but well, we're in the classroom surrounded by fellow freshmen. 

"Thank you," I tell him instead. "Everything is finally the way we planned it. And just so you know, I have this worst roommate and you just saved me from a whole year of not being able to have a decent sleep."