What?

What is this feeling I have every time I look at her?

I seriously have to change my place.

To the front of the class, perhaps.

Just so I don't have to stare at her pretty face all day long.

What?

Did I say pretty?

Ani.

She's not that pretty.

She's loud and quacky.

Defnitely not pretty.

Especially after she lost that two little dimples by the bottom corners of her pouty mouth.

Was it due to the kiss I gave her.

Did I scare those dimples away?

But since then, a new dimple that appeared out of nowhere.

To reside in the middle of her chin.

It kind of made up for the lost dimples, I guess.

What are you rambling about, Choi Dal Po?

Naah... She's not that pretty.

But maybe I really should consider moving to the front row.

But then again, the old teacher would expect me to pay attention in class.

Which I normally do, actually, despite sleeping half way through the lectures.

I can't help myself. I have read through most of the topics on my own, at least two years before they are even taught in class.

Not that I am a genius or anything.

It's just that information is just so wonderful, that I just want to consume everything.

And like food, I tend to consume them fairly fast.

But I'm pretty slow in the social skills I know.

And sometimes, not so attuned to my surroundings.

Unlike her.

She's wonderful.

She's smart.

Sharp tongued yet insightful.

Her instincts are normally spot on.

Especially with her silly hiccups.

Except when it comes to her mother.

And her choice of life vocation.

Journalism.

Baah.

Does she really think that is what she should do with her life.

A Pinocchio.

Who can't tell lies.

But then again, maybe the world does need a reporter like her.

One who will only tell the truth.

One who will uphold integrity at its utmost level.

One the people can trust and depend on.

One who will, hopefully, saves lives, instead of destroys them.

Yup, maybe she has chosen the right vocation after all.

One that I have no right to opose to at all.

Sigh.

Life is too cruel at times.

But, I hope to remain optimistic.

And hopeful.

Like a punctuation mark, the school bell rang.

"Ya, witch!"

"Neh?"

"Kaja."

"Neh..!"

Must she smile so brilliantly like that, I mused, as I watch her pack her things happily.

Did she not hear the sternness that borders boredom in my voice?

Did I not sound harsh enough?

Sigh.

I shall fight this feeling.

But on another day, perhaps.

For now, let me enjoy her 'still not so pretty' face and a nice ride home with her.

Since our truce that rainy night after the competition, things have been very pleasant between us.

Sorry, Chan-soo old man, you just don't stand a chance.

So what exactly is this feeling I have for her?

Dang it, if I know.

But come Monday, I will talk to the teacher regarding swapping my seat with someone in the front.

But today, I have a witch to give a ride home to.

- Fin -