ONE

Seventeen. Senior. Average. Typical. Boring.

Those were the five words I used to describe myself with during a stupid ice breaker activity in AP Economics. I never understood the point of ice breakers; they in no way lessen the awkwardness between students, no one remembered your name anyways, and now that we were all seniors, honestly no one gave a crap about new faces.

I was probably the epitome of boring. I wasn't cheer captain nor was I the nerd everyone picked on. I wasn't popular and I wasn't a loner either. I was that girl you sat next to one time for half a semester, the one who never bothered really to talk to you aside from the typical greeting. I was just another face you wouldn't remember in five years when you're going through the yearbook.

I wasn't smart either, I took my fair share of honors and AP courses like any other student but my grades weren't amazing. I wasn't Ivy League material but I was definitely on the course to go to college. I was just gliding by school. I never really believed that grades were everything. They don't define you.

I'm from a middle class family. I'm full Korean but I was born and grew up in California. My parents had moved here just after they got married in search for a 'better life'. My father is an engineer while my mother is a kindergarten teacher. We live in a decent sized house in the suburbs along with my older brother who has already left to college two years ago. He was the star child, made it to an Ivy League school with a pretty decent scholarship for soccer.

I have like two friends that I can actually tolerate, Kai and Lena. I've known them all my life. We ended up becoming friends back in elementary school based on the sole fact that we were the only Asians in our grade. But luckily they turned out to be decent people so I've stuck with them ever since. I mean, its only logical that you hang out with people who share your interests and actually understand the “Asian Struggle”. More on that later.

I've never really had a boyfriend either. I mean I guess you can count Kai as my ex-boyfriend if you really want; we “went out” in seventh grade for like two weeks and never did anything worse than a hug (that was like third base back then!). It didn't work out, it was kinda gross like dating your cousin. Plus he asked me out over text. Lame.

But don't get me wrong, I'm not really interested in dating. I grew up with an older brother and a guy best friend and after you've seen what I've seen, guys don't seem all that appealing until after college. (Seriously guys are gross, do you really want to kiss a guy who the sidewalk for the rest of your burrito? Or wear the same socks for a week?)

And the guys that go to my school are no different. Pretty immature, pretty gross, not that cute. I'll wait until they've got good paying jobs, shave their creepy half stash, and learn how to tie a tie properly. (Clip on ties are so tacky.)

At this rate I'll be single until I'm thirty. I will not apologize for having standards. (But come on! Is it so hard to wash your face and shave every morning? I put in effort to shave my well, everything every week.)

“Eighteen, Senior, Adventurous, Ambitious, Handsome.”

I rolled my eyes; someone is really full of themself. I lazily turned my eyes towards the speaker who stood across the room from me. I cocked my head as I worked my brain, scanning the lists of people I've acquired over my lifetime, trying to match faces with names.

Nothing.

With only a few hundred kids at my school, I've thought that by now I would have known everyone. Especially with a face like his, I should have no problem remembering who he was, even after a long event-less summer.

Okay so it was not all that wrong of him to call himself handsome; but it was still totally conceited and big headed of him to say so. I crossed my arms as I looked him over, cautiously analyzing him. He wasn't that tall, I would say he was at most five foot nine (which still towered over my petite frame of five foot three). His hair was a dark black color, almost unnaturally so. It was extremely shiny and seemed to have various shades of dark blue bounce off of it as he moved. He was extremely well groomed, clean shaven, trimmed eyebrows, white teeth, and a clear milky white complexion. He looked like the perfect 'Korean'. My mom would definitely approve.

I must have been staring a little too long because before I knew it, I felt his dark eyes lingering on me. His black orbs danced back and forth up my body, not in an obscene way but in a curious way. He cocked an eyebrow upwards as he tilted his head slightly to the left, an intrigued expression on his face. I rolled my eyes and looked away, pretending to be bored. (But my heart was thumping a million beats a minute.)

He didn't approach me after class.

(I won't admit that I was disappointed either.)

“In this class we are going to learn how to apply things we learn to the real world,” Ms. Johnson explained, “Therefore we are going to have a competition.”

Groans ruptured through the class, protesting the extra work.

“Oh shush, it'll be fun.” She reassured, “You and a partner will pair up and participate in a stock market game. You will have the freedom to buy and sell stocks with a set amount of money. Whoever earns the most money at the end of the year wins! This game will be based on the current stock market and will change just as it does. However all the money and pur