''So... Did you ever actually go to second base with him?'', I asked tentatively. I took a sip of my pineapple smoothie while Krystal tried to pry the cigarette out of my fingers. She hated it when I smoked.

''Ew!'', she responded, scrunching her nose. ''Minho is a nice guy but no offense, he's gross. All boys are gross. At our school at least they are.''

''Well, we all know I'm not an expert on the boy front, so I wouldn't know if to agree or disagree,'' I muttered.

''Is that bitterness I sense in your voice, Kang Noa?'', Krystal said teasingly. Sighing heavily, I rolled my eyes as we proceeded to walk to her house. We took turns everyday to who's house we would go. We'd finish all our homework together (and my grades had increased immensely ever since), we read cheesy girl-magazines, we rewatched Wes Anderson movies, we listened to Krystal's collection of forgotten indie bands, and I wouldn't know a better way to spend my days than here with her, where I belonged.

Belonging somewhere. It had been a feeling foreign for me for years until I met this girl. Going out to get ice cream that day, she collided onto my chest rather hard, and we fell to the ground, her on top of me. I felt a strange feeling of excitement running through the pit of my stomach, a healthy dose of anxiety, an indicator of better times to come, or so I perceived.

We were staring in each other's eyes, strangely infatuated with the two orbs in our heads, not being able to look away, until, after what felt like an eternity, she quickly scrambled up and started apologizing to me. She somehow talked me into going to her home (and home it was, so warm, so friendly) to lend me a spare change of clothes, making the fact that we would stay tied infinitely undeniable, or so it seemed. Since it was getting late, I had stayed for supper, after practical begging from her mum. After finding out we lived very close to each other, she walked me home, and pried my number out of me, as she was very persuasive, and let's be real, very friendly, I knew I could bring myself to grow immensely fond of her.

The odds were ever in our favor, as we even went to the same school. It wasn't strange I'd never noticed her before, as I strictly kept school as school. I didn't attempt to make it into something fun, a place where I could learn how to grow, how to live, how to smile, how to cry, how to fall and stand up back two times as tall again.

My aunt had walked out of the door worriedly, but once she saw me with a peer, her face lighted up, and she asked Krystal some light-hearted questions (''I'm so clumsy, I ran into her, spilling her ice cream all over her dress! But get this, we go to the same school! How weird is that?''). I hadn't thought my aunt was worried about me, let alone so worried that she could let out a breath when she saw me with, in her perception, a (potential, perhaps) friend. It made me feel strangely guilty, or even indebted, as I hadn't made a real effort to bond with her either. Sure, she was awkward, but I could've been a bit more friendly, I guess.

I made an effort to wash and iron the clothes she had lend me, and put it in a pretty paper bag I had found in the kitchen. Why was I making such an effort? It left me puzzled how I felt like I had a desire to become friends with this girl. I felt a strange feeling building up within me, as if I was doing something I wasn't supposed to do. I think I was still feeling guilty within, and that was probably why I hadn't made an effort to get myself together after my parents had died. But that was a wound still too sore to even look at without feeling sick.

''It's not. I'm not interested in boys. Not yet, I guess. I don't know. I feel like I need to find myself before I can allow someone else to find me,'' I mused. I gradually halted my stop, as we were standing in front of Krys' house, and looked her in the eye. ''Is that weird?''

''No, not at all!'', she laughed. She took a small sip from my smoothie, and proceeded to fish her keys out of the cute boho-ish bag she had spotted in a thrift store. Our matching key chain (a photo holder with a cute selfie of us) dangled from her fingers. She took my hand with her free one, and guided us inside. ''Maybe you haven't met the right person yet. The person that will turn your entire being upside down, that one person that makes you want to be as good as possible, that person that you could love no matter what they do, that person you could let go if you ever had to,'' she stated. She kicked her neon green sneakers off, and tied her hair into a chaste bun. She looked stunning.

''Let go if you had to? I don't think I'd want to let go someone I loved so dearly'', I said quietly.

''Well, in the best case scenario, you wouldn't have to,'' Krystal chuckled. I took a seat on the wooden kitchen table, as she started getting our supper ready. Her parents were at work, and her sister had cheer practice. ''But sometimes, you have to realize that the person you love, now matter how much and how desperate it is, is better off with someone else. Their consciousness might not rest, but sometimes, comfort is more convenient than love.''

The air felt thick, all of a sudden. I silently watched Krystal cut a baguette in bite sized slices. She had a bunch of spreads stalled on the pretty, soft pink plates her mother used. They were a perfect reflection of her personality. Her mom was soft, warm, sweet, nice, and she reminded me a lot of my own mother. I really enjoyed coming here.

''Slow down, Shakespeare'', I chuckled. Krystal let out a soft laugh, and fed me a strawberry. She was making a fruit salad now.

''Well.... Have you?''

''Have I what?'', she asked. The small knife in her hand, she turned back to look at me, her eyes wide in question.

''Have you found the person you want to allow to find you?''

''.... I don't know''

And I didn't ask, because somehow, the anticipation that led up to the answer to that question in mere seconds, felt heavier on my heart then my need to find out the answer.