Hansol likes to think that he’s observant. It’s been a habit of his when he’s bored at school to just sit in his classroom and watch. Sometimes his searching gaze scrutinizes the backs of his fellow students, noting who needs to fix their posture (someone needs to tell Chan to stop slouching) and who probably didn’t go out during break that day (Minghao’s white shirt looks too impeccably clean; suspicious, if you ask Hansol). Other times he entertains himself by staring out the window, next to which his desk is conveniently placed, and marvels at how blue the sky is and how the rods and cones in his eyes even have the ability to differentiate color in the first place.

 

He quickly realizes that just because he’s observant doesn’t mean that Dahyun is. Kim Dahyun: the girl from the next classroom over, who just so happens to be his next door neighbor that he rides the bus to school with every morning. She’s observant in all the ways he doesn’t quite get, like noticing the fact that Seungkwan has a star-shaped mole on the back of his neck or that Hansol’s parents always seem to get into an argument on either the 17th or 22nd of each month. She doesn’t care that the sky is blue, only laughs with a smile so blinding that it reminds him of the sun. She doesn’t care about other people’s postures, only makes it a habit to read her textbook with her head resting on her arm flat on the table, and he has to constantly remind her that this will ruin her eyesight if she hasn’t already. She doesn’t care about a lot of things that Hansol seems to care about, and although he definitely doesn’t hate her for it, sometimes he wishes that she would.

 

 

 

 

 

He’s waiting outside her classroom to walk to the cafeteria together, looking at the time on his non-existent watch (a habit he’s never quite broken). He’s so busy looking at his wrist that a soft punch on his shoulder causes him to jump a little.

 

“Yo,” Dahyun says, her eyes shining.

 

Hansol smiles back. “Ready to go?”

 

“Oh… about that,” she whispers with a sheepish expression. “I know we promised to eat lunch together today but I have to work on a last-minute project with Yein.” She grabs his hand apologetically, giving it a squeeze.

 

“Ah, it’s okay,” Hansol murmurs, the only thing registering in his mind is how sweaty his palms are, especially after coming in contact with hers.

 

“I’ll make it up to you,” Dahyun promises, giving a mock salute as she gets dragged down the hall by Yein, her hair flying out behind her.

 

Suddenly, he’s accosted by Seungkwan and Chan on both sides. “Yay, that means you get to sit with us!”

 

Hansol groans, but finds himself grinning anyway.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“So, Nayeon, huh?” Seokmin nudges Seungcheol, who can only give a flustered smile to the younger one’s teasing, barely able to eat his lunch at this rate. Everyone in the school knows that Nayeon is one of the most popular senior girls, and Hansol honestly called it over a year ago that Seungcheol would quickly fall in line in the growing list of Nayeon’s admirers. If anything, he was surprised that it wasn’t any sooner, judging from how much time they spent together, with Nayeon tutoring Seungcheol after he fell behind in class during basketball season.

 

The jesting continues until Jisoo just quietly tells everyone to let the poor guy eat. But not before he sneaks in a little jest of his own, to which Jeonghan gives him a high-five.

 

Hansol just rolls his eyes and shoves his sandwich in his mouth, his stomach growling. Chan slides into the seat next to him. “Man, I’m so ready for this school year to end,” Chan sighs, opening his carton of milk.

 

Seungkwan pipes up from across the table. “I don’t know, I’m cherishing the moment.” His face is oddly serious that it becomes comical. Seungkwan is actually horrible at maintaining a poker face, and the pure effort he is exerting to keep a neutral expression is making his eyeballs bulge out. Wonderful, Hansol thinks, as he gives Seungkwan a slight scowl.

 

Chan furrows his eyebrows and looks at their interaction incredulously. “I don’t get it.”

 

The bread in Hansol’s sandwich suddenly seems so much more dry. Seungkwan laughs. “What? I’m just saying,” Seungkwan utters between spoonfuls of rice, “that Hansol made a promise that he was going to keep by the end of this school year, and we have like, I don’t know…” he glances at his imaginary watch (once Hansol thinks about it, he probably got the habit from Seungkwan, ugh), “...about four more weeks left! And hence, I am cherishing the moment. ‘Tis only the beginning.” Seungkwan rubs his palms together in excitement.

 

Hansol can’t take him seriously on account of remembering that Seungkwan indeed has a star-shaped mole on the back of his neck. But he digresses.

 

“What promise?” Chan asks.

 

Seungkwan has the most devious, stupid smile on his face. Sandpaper, Hansol thinks. Sandpaper. That’s what the bread’s texture is like.

 

“He’s going to confess to Dahyun.”

 

 

Hansol gulps. His throat has never been more parched in his life. He sends daggers through his eyes to his “friend” - whatever nutcase of a friend Seungkwan is, anyway. This friend shrugs. “I don’t get why you’re so embarrassed about it anyway. Puh-lease,” Seungkwan enunciates, as if going into aspiring national MC mode again (Hansol would just like to say that he would prefer not to see Seungkwan’s face on his TV screen at this rate). “Literally everyone can see that you like her.” He notes the unfading glare that Hansol is giving him. “Well, I mean, except Dahyun, that is.”

 

Hansol groans on the inside. Seungkwan has a sheepish smile on his face.

 

“Which, I suppose, is the problem,” Chan finishes for him, shaking his milk carton to make sure that there is nothing left inside.

 

“Of course, nothing that I, genius Boo Seungkwan, can’t solve!”

 

And suddenly, Hansol doesn’t really feel like eating anymore.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The TV rambles in the background on low volume, barely anyone paying attention to what is on the screen. It’s because a certain someone has stolen the spotlight in Hansol’s living room - thank you very much - and everyone’s eyes are on Boo Seungkwan, whose most accurate words to describe him right now include: “absolutely crazy.” Unfortunately, Chan and Minghao have their gazes glued onto Seungkwan as he erupts into a monologue, standing in the middle of the room while the others are seated on the couch or the rug.

 

“And so, you see, we have quite the challenge before us,” Seungkwan is saying, gesturing toward Hansol, who just hugs his bowl of potato chips closer to himself in embarrassment. “We have Choi Hansol, in love with the lovely Kim Dahyun, who is probably sitting in the house next door, in her room dying her hair another absurd unseen-before color, not even the least aware of just how much Hansol’s heart beats for her with so much yearning and desire and love.” Seungkwan’s eyes roll upward as he gasps in exaggeration, breath taken away by his own poetic words.

 

Minghao clutches his heart, nodding along, while Chan just smirks at Hansol. They’re so going to get it. But Seungkwan is unstoppable. “I propose that in order for progress to be made, Hansol needs to ask her to prom. In case my fellow classmates - that’s you all - have forgotten, we are nearing the end of our junior year of high school and we have junior prom coming up. This is a grand opportunity, people!” (Hansol groans.) “Of course, asking her to prom will be another challenge in itself. You,” he points to Hansol, “will have to take the initiative to do so. But we are all here to support you and supply you ideas and give the extra push.” Seungkwan’s eyes become extra dreamy. “If you love her,” he sighs with much conviction, “you will have the divine inspiration and courage to ask her. True love always finds a way.”

 

Hansol raises an eyebrow. “Since when were you the love guru and an expert on how to get the girl?”

 

Minghao nods in agreement. “After all, your past confessions have gone… awry… to say the least,” he gives a cheeky smile. Hansol shudders, stealing a glance at him. Savage.

 

Seungkwan brushes the comments aside. “Puh-lease, I’ve seen enough movies and dramas to know how this stuff works. I mean, would you rather do this or stare and do nothing as Hansol single-handedly ruins his chance at love by just sitting there?”

 

“Well, he’s got a point there,” Chan murmurs under his breath. Hansol glares at him.

 

“As a friend,” Seungkwan says, hand on his chest, “I will not stand for seeing Hansol pining away for his crush and not doing anything about it. It is our responsibility to help.”

 

“I never asked for any help,” Hansol denies.

 

“But you promised! You promised that you’d confess to her within this school year. We even shook pinkies on it,” Seungkwan presses on. He pauses. “I mean, fine, you only agreed because I bribed you with ice cream but it’s your fault that you like ice cream so much.”

 

Hansol simply just sticks more potato chips into his mouth, the crunching noises drowning out the increased palpitations in his heart. Suddenly, a smile as wide as the Pacific Ocean spreads over Seungkwan’s face. “What?” Hansol mumbles.

 

“You know what I just realized? This whole time you never denied that you like her. That’s a start, you know. Obviously this is something your heart wants!”

 

He keeps chewing on the chips, hoping to ignore all that is being said. It’s true - he hasn’t once denied this fact. He’s not the type to hide from his feelings. But he is the type to hide them from other people. It makes him feel safer and more in control, somehow. The prospect of letting the secret out is numbing to say the least.

 

But then, he thinks of what might happen if someone else asks her to prom first, how she might slow dance with someone else other than him, how she’ll get her nails done and hair styled only to link arms with another boy. The sinking feeling in his chest - what is this feeling? He’s still thinking about this as the others have finally turned their attention back on the TV, and yet Hansol cannot process the movie they are watching.

 

“Hansol? Hansol?”

 

Hansol blinks awake, only to come face to face with Minghao peering into his eyes. He must’ve drifted asleep.

 

Chan clucks his tongue as he and the others turn off the TV and walk out of the living room. “You’re hopeless,” the younger one jokes, and Hansol would throw his empty chip bowl at him if only he had the energy.

 

“Think on it,” Seungkwan says in a sing-song voice. “Live life without regrets,” he winks.

 

This time, Hansol really does chuck the empty chip bowl at Seungkwan, who yelps in surprise.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hansol taps his pencil on the desk in his bedroom, thinking about the irony that the weather is doing a fine job of announcing the onset of summer, and yet the homework in front of him reminds him that is indeed not summer. Absolutely cruel. His windows are wide open, the fan on his desk whirring at full speed as Hansol attempts to soak in the physics problem before him. Then his phone vibrates, a picture of Dahyun flashing onto the screen.

 

Hansol grins and answers the phone. “What’s up?”

 

“Do you wanna come over for dinner today? My mom said to invite you over.”

 

“Is this your way of making it up to me? You don’t have to worry about it,” Hansol says.

 

“No! I genuinely want to eat with you, pretty please,” Dahyun pleads over the phone. Gosh, she over-exaggerates everything, he notes amusedly. “Plus we can watch Doctors together; it’s airing tonight, you know!”

 

Hansol rolls his eyes. “I’m not you. I don’t swoon whenever Kim Rae Won shows up on the screen.”

 

“Well, you’re lying if you say that you don’t think Park Shin Hye is pretty. Anyway, I’m saving food for you and there will be an empty spot at the table. If you don’t come, you’ll regret it because my mom made the best food today. BYE!”

 

And with that, the call ends, leaving Hansol feeling like he’d just suffered whiplash from her rapid-fire words. He settles back down to his work, pencil scratching against paper frantically. If he’s going to spend time hanging out with Dahyun this evening, he better get his work done.

 

She was right. The meal was impeccably delicious, especially since he was considering just boiling ramen on his own back home due to his parents’ late working hours.

 

“Thank you for the food,” Hansol quickly bows to Dahyun’s mother, who just laughs and tells him that his manners are too much sometimes. Dahyun just drags Hansol over to the couch, where she sits cross-legged in front of the TV with the remote clutched in her hand. Hansol is getting strange images of deja vu of this afternoon just hours before, except all of a sudden he is much more  interested in what is shown on the TV screen. Maybe because every single time the main lead does something, he finds himself at a loss for what to do when Dahyun ends up squealing and burying her head in Hansol’s lap. Why she does this, he has no idea.

 

“One day, I want to be as badass as Park Shin Hye’s character,” Dahyun declares after the episode is over. “She’s so fierce.”

 

Hansol raises an eyebrow. “I think you’re pretty badass,” he says quietly, but the corners of his lips lift up into a smirk.

 

Dahyun just stares at him. He thinks he could get lost in her eyes. “You’re right,” she says after a moment of silence. “I am pretty badass. I could put you in a headlock any day,” she agrees, then proceeds to wrestle Hansol to the ground. Hansol winces and thinks that he’ll have a bruise along his spine later. But he doesn’t get much time to think about that when he registers Dahyun’s hair tickling his skin and just how close her face is to his.

 

His mind goes completely blank. “I--”

 

Dahyun climbs off of him and straightens her back against the couch. “I’m strong, right,” she laughs, seemingly oblivious to the churning feelings inside him. Hansol can only grunt in affirmation.

 

The atmosphere becomes a little more settled, as the advertisements roll on in the background. She scoots closer to him so that their shoulders bump against each other. “Are you okay?” she asks out of the blue.

 

Hansol blinks in surprise. “Yeah, I’m fine. Am I not supposed to be okay?”

 

She shrugs. “It’s the 17th of the month.”

 

Hansol shoves her lightly. “Dahyun, stop obsessing over that date; my parents aren’t even home yet!”

 

“Well it’s been a pattern,” she pipes up. “Either the 17th or the--”

 

“22nd, I know. But don’t jinx it.” He gives her a smile.

 

“I just don’t like seeing you sad,” she murmurs under her breath, staring at her knees.

 

“Well I don’t like seeing you sad either, so cheer up,” he jokes, poking her cheek to make her smile.

 

She pokes him back, and soon they find themselves enveloped in a tickle war, something you’d think they’d have gotten over after graduating elementary school. But Dahyun is Dahyun, and she makes Hansol go slightly crazy, and even her maniacal laugh sounds like music to his ears.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The next day, the announcements over the school intercom include the dates and ticket prices for junior prom. Seungkwan’s voice echoes in his head like a horror movie: “Think on it - live life without regrets.” There are times when he regrets befriending Seungkwan, and this is one of those times. He doesn’t need a caricature of Seungkwan’s I-am-a-certified-love-guru face to pop up in his mind whenever he thinks about prom.

 

Speak of the devil, Hansol finds that Seungkwan has sidled up next to him. “Step one: you need to gauge where she’s at.”

 

After he gets over the initial shock of Seungkwan suddenly appearing at such close proximity, he asks, “What do you mean?”

His friend gives him a look of pity. “Poor you, so clueless without my wisdom. It’s easy! You need to find out her thoughts: Is she interested in going to junior prom in the first place? Is anyone else going to ask her? Does she want anyone else to ask her? Would she want to go as friends or something more?”

 

Hansol’s going to get a headache from all these questions. “Is that necessary?”

 

Seungkwan shrugs. “Unless you want to go into it blind.”

 

He groans. “I’ll figure it out myself,” he shoos Seungkwan away with a wave of his hand. To his surprise, Seungkwan actually leaves by his own will, but not without flashing a devious smile. The reason for that is soon revealed when his phone vibrates on his desk. Weird, wasn’t his phone in his pocket before?

 

There’s a text from Dahyun: “usual spot?”

 

Hansol purses his lips in confusion when he sees the text to which she is presumably replying. “Hey let’s meet up at lunch today - just you and me” - which he had not sent. Hansol feels his blood boiling as he connects the dots. Seungkwan… What a lowlife. He shoots the offender a glare from across the room but it seems to roll right off of him, not the least affected.

 

“Had to do what I had to do” is the text from Seungkwan that pops up on his screen shortly afterward. “Have fun at lunch” is the follow-up text.

 

Hansol clenches his jaw. Closes his eyes for a couple seconds. Well, he’ll just make the best of it, he figures. Not like eating lunch with Dahyun is an anomaly anyway. “Yeah same place,” he types in response to Dahyun before hiding away his phone in his backpack as the teacher starts lecturing. The next hour could not pass by any slower, he thinks as his stomach churns and growls. And not just from hunger, he realizes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“The side dishes are better than usual today,” Dahyun hums, scarfing down her food with gusto.

 

“Not as good as your mother’s cooking,” Hansol says, and Dahyun sticks out her tongue as if to say, duh, that’s a given.

 

They continue eating in silence, Hansol glancing at her from the side once in awhile. “What, is there something on my face?” she asks, sticking her nose in front of him.

 

He shakes his head, flustered. “No, it’s not that. You’re fine. You’re just very prett-” He stops mid-word, a little horrified at what came out of his mouth.

 

“Thanks,” Dahyun smiles good-naturedly. He thinks he’s imagining the pink tint that appears on her cheeks.

 

“So--”

 

“I--”

 

“You go first,” Dahyun gestures.

 

“I guess I had a question,” Hansol starts, twisting open his water bottle to momentarily distract himself. “About the Doctors drama.” He observes that Dahyun sort of deflates at that. Was she expecting something else?

 

“Yeah?”

 

Hansol clears his throat. “Yeah,” his ears are reddening. “I was wondering, like, do you like it when guys act like that? When they protect you and guide you and… I don’t know…”

 

“Well, yeah, that’s always nice,” Dahyun answers matter-of-factly.

 

“Or, I don’t know, what about other kinds of guys, like - well -” He doesn’t know how to say it, doesn’t know how to ask her whether she would ever look at him as someone more than just a friend, more than just a boy she grew up with.

 

“Like you?” she blurts out, then clamps a hand over .

 

Hansol blinks once. Then twice. “Yeah.” A thoughtful pause. He’s going to do it. “Junior prom is coming up… were you thinking of going with anyone?”

 

“Well…” she looks a bit unsure.

 

Hansol’s mouth goes dry. He’s about to say something when Dahyun asks, “Wanna go together? As best friends?” Her smile is so blinding and somehow she’s found a way to latch onto his arm.

 

He smiles back, pleasantly surprised. Well, that’s a start. “Sure, let’s do it.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He doesn’t think that anyone knows what exactly they’ve signed up for until they experience it. And by it, he means prom. Specifically: suffocating in a tuxedo, pinky toe slightly squished in abnormally-shiny black shoes, and repeatedly getting the air knocked out of your lungs at the sight of a certain girl in a midnight blue dress. It’s gotta be illegal, Hansol thinks to himself.

 

Honestly, he doesn’t know why he’s here. Well, he does - it’s because Seungkwan had scoured the Internet for a viable deal for a fancy restaurant that they could go to before the dance. He’s at a loss as to why exactly he’s still going along with Seungkwan’s plans, but hey - it’s not every day you get to eat at an expensive restaurant.

 

Since none of them could drive, Hansol’s father had dropped them off at the restaurant, leaving the two of them looking around with wide eyes. “Whoa, this is like, so fancy,” Dahyun gushes, pulling out her phone to take pictures.

 

“We’re not even inside yet,” Hansol laughs, opening the door. She nearly trips over her heels as she makes rushes through the doorway in excitement. The restaurant is not as busy as he thought it would be, considering that it’s the dinner before prom.

 

The waiter greets them and it’s almost comical because of how out of place they feel. They’re led to a table that overlooks the seaside. Dang, Seungkwan is really on point with this restaurant deal, he thinks to himself. Dahyun’s about to reach for her chair when -

 

“Wait,” Hansol finds himself uttering, making his way toward her side of the table. He pulls out the chair and gestures for Dahyun to sit. “Am I doing this right?” he mutters under his breath.

 

The waiter seems to catch wind of his nervousness. “Good job,” he assures him, flashing a thumbs up. Hansol reddens.

 

The ordering of food involves a lot of umm’s and hmm’s and hemming and hawing because neither of them are very experienced when it comes to fine dining. They settle for the simplest dinner combo and soon they are alone, waiting for the food to arrive.

 

He can’t seem to look at her directly. All that stuff around her eye - eye shadow and eyeliner and mascara, apparently - somehow brings out the brightness in her eyes a lot more.

 

“This is so interesting,” Dahyun keeps saying about anything and everything in the restaurant. The folded cloth napkins. The arrangement of silverware. The gold-embossed menu. He finds it endearing, how her attention quickly moves from one subject to the other, excitedly distracted.

 

The rest of dinner involves fumbling with how to use the cutlery correctly, Dahyun’s dress getting caught under the chair leg, Hansol nearly dropping his food into his lap, and drinking apple cider to replace the wine. The whole time, they’re both grinning from ear to ear, so much so that Hansol’s cheeks hurt. It’s funny, how a singular meal could be made so special, he thinks to himself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

By the time they’ve reached the prom venue (after hitching a ride with Mingyu and Mina, third- and fourth-wheeling them), Hansol feels like the world is spinning: borderline food coma, formal pants a little tight around the waist, the ever perpetual problem-that-is-not-a-problem that is how pretty Dahyun looks. He keeps staring at her out of the corner of her eye, half wishing that she wouldn’t notice and half wishing that she would.

 

Of course, once Soonyoung reveals that there is an ice cream sundae bar, Dahyun’s first thought is to take off her heels and make a run for it. “Because who knows, maybe they only have a limited supply!” Dahyun exclaims.

 

Hansol only marvels at her apparent lack of a food coma. Then again, there is always room for dessert.

 

They’re standing in line for the ice cream sundaes when Dahyun’s face scrunches up in pain, although she tries to mask it. Her hand reaches up to clutch her stomach, gripping the satin textured cloth of her dress.

 

“Are you okay?” Hansol asks, eyebrows furrowing.

 

Dahyun smiles weakly. “Yeah,” she croaks out. A complete 180 degree from the ball of excitement that she was not many minutes ago.

 

He simply stares at her, lips pursed in worry. He sends her a look that says, I don’t think so.

 

She reads his expression and sighs. “Fine,” she gives in. “It hurts. A lot,” she says, pouting in disappointment. She glances longingly at the ice cream sundae but they both know that’s the last thing she needs right now.

 

“Could it be food poisoning?” Hansol wonders aloud, although they pretty much ate the same course and he’s not feeling any adverse effects.

 

“I hope not,” she whispers.

 

It gets so bad that Dahyun has tears in her eyes, in pain yet extremely apologetic. “I’m so sorry for ruining prom,” she blubbers outside the women’s restroom while Hansol sits next to her. Out in the dance hall, they’re playing a slow dance song, and he sees Dahyun look out longingly.

 

“This is not anything to say sorry for,” is all Hansol says, resting his arm around her shoulders and rubbing her arm comfortingly. “If you really need to, it’s okay to go just go home and rest. Your health is more important.”

 

And that’s how junior prom ends without even one dance on the floor, or even an ice cream sundae. It ends in a taxi ride back home, Dahyun dozing off on his shoulder in the backseat and Hansol debating the whole time whether or not he should hold her hand. When he comes home a couple hours earlier than planned and finally checks his phone, Seungkwan is asking where they’re at and Hansol doesn’t really have the heart to respond.

As he lies down in bed, however, he can’t help but smile because dang, she was truly shining in that midnight blue dress.