I kind of notice that the question of the day today is, ‘Are you new here?’. And every time, I just nod my head and say yes. I do hope, though, that that makes me sociable already.

My first period is Calculus. Imagine having Mathematics on the first period. It’s like waking up very early in the morning and realizing it’s a Sunday. It’s like a bomb dropping on you the very first thing in the morning.

A girl, once she entered, sat beside me and gave me a slight smile. There were only a few students here, and a lot of them are scattered.

One of the things that I really can’t forget to do when I’m in a new environment is to learn who you’re dealing with. So in this case, the teacher.

I glance sideways at the girl, and she’s already got her notebook open. I’m itching to ask her who the teacher is, and how he or she is like. It’s better to be prepared. But she’s scribbling and doodling like there’s no tomorrow. I’m actually not supposed to be intrigued by such actions, but as soon as I notice what she’s doodling, I linger.

“Yes?”

I look up and see her with questioning eyes aimed at me. She has this small, piercing eyes that could be mistaken as a sign of pride and arrogance.

I clear my throat, “Um, those stars are really pretty. And cute.” They were all over the page. Little stars with tail lights, big stars with shimmering halos, and those stars with doodled stars inside of it. There’s even this one star with its own smiling face. All in black ink, best for doodles.

She looks down at her notebook, “Oh,” She returns her gaze to me and smiles. The arrogance and pride in her small-slit eyes melt. “Thanks,” She looks down again, and she seems to decide on whether to close her notebook, or to continue our conversation. She chooses the latter, “Are you new here?”

I nod.

“Figures. I haven’t seen your face around.”

“I just came here. This is my first day.”

She completely ignores her notebook and leans back, “Ah. First day. But you’ve been toured, I guess? You’re supposed to be toured around first, right?”

I nod.

“Small, right? It’s not that big, really.”

Well, it really isn’t that big, but I don’t think it’s that small either. I’ve seen some other schools in America that are relatively smaller compared to this, “It’s not that small.”

She shrugs, “I guess you’re right,” She looks at me once again and offers a hand. “Kang Seulgi.”

I smile and shake it, “Bae Ara.” I’m slowly becoming comfortable with her.

The students start to pour inside the classroom already. I notice that most of them come in pairs. Some, usually guys, either come solo or in groups. Most girls are never alone.

“They always come in cliques and groups,” Seulgi says, like she just read my mind.

“You have one?” I ask.

She sneers as she looks at them, “Heck, no. Even though it’s a thing… well… just, no. I guess I’m just not cut out for cliques and such.”

“They can be a drag,” I add.

She laughs, “You know, I like you already.”

To me, that’s an accomplishment.

A few seconds later, Kyungsoo, Mr. President, enters