Walking the halls as Kang Minhee—better known as Mr. Kang, the science teacher's daughter—was a daily adventure. 

It wasn't like any of the kids mistreated me; everyone was actually very friendly whenever I spoke to them or was paired together with them on a school project. It was just the fact that everyone hated my father and were scared of their academic future were they to get on his badside. I was just an extension of him and therefore a force not to be reckoned with. Though I never would wish to punish someone by sicking my father on them no matter what they had done to me, I understood them wanting to stay away from me. If I had a choice, I would stay away from my father.

It was humiliating and lonely being the most hated teacher's daughter but I had gotten used to it after three years. I had accepted I would always be the friendless, seemingly snotty, and silent ghost of Gimpo High long ago during my Freshman year. 

"Minhee, Mr. Kang wants to see you in the teacher's lounge," a voice said from behind me. Before I turn around and reply to them, they were gone in the crowd, preferring to keep their distance from me. 

I promptly turned back and headed towards the teacher's lounge where my father usually ate his lunch. Most days, I ate in the lounge too because my father wanted me to and it wasn't like I had friends to hang out with. 

"Minhee," the deep ragged voice of my father called out as I closed the lounge door behind me. "Mrs. Ryu returned your history paper to me this morning before class, I wanted to discuss your grade with you."

It took me a moment of sifting through my brain to remember what my history paper was about and when I had turned it in. A tingle ran down my spine when I recalled the allnighter I had pulled the week before to finish not only that history paper but 8 pages of algebra and a science experiment. I was no genius, just pushed very violently in school, and it had taken all my energy and time to make those papers and projects on time, even then I had barely finished the history paper before school and it was sadly half-assed and I knew it wouldn't be a high scorer.

I made to sit down before the big brawl started. Thankfully, the lounge was still empty. "Daddy, I—"

He slammed the paper onto the coffee table, revealing the red marking on the front. "This is the second C you've gotten, Minhee," he stated gruffly.

"In two years, daddy," I replied calmly, nearly condescending but too light for him to catch in his simmering rage. 

"I will not tolerate this." He stood, snatching the paper up. "If you can't hold your grades, I'll be forced to restrict priviledges. As much as I hate to do it, your education comes first." He placed his hands on his hips and eyed me sternly. "Do you understand?"

I wanted to argue but I hadn't the energy for that after the allnighter I had just pulled the night before. Arguing usually got me nowhere anyway, so I merely sighed and nodded. 

"Yes. I understand."

Like always, that was what he wanted to hear. He patted lovingly on the head and gave me my paper, telling me to go eat lunch because dinner would be late due to his detention duties.

When school ended a few hours later, I made my way silently to the detention room where my father would be watching over the "bad" kids for another hour or two. Assuming I would have to wait with him, I set my bag down next to one of the front desks the same moment two students came sauntering in, my father right behind them.

"Ah, Minhee. You won't be waiting with me," my father said, setting his water bottle and glasses on the table. "I need you to get a few things from the grocery store for dinner."

"Oh," I muttered as he pulled out his wallet, admittedly shocked he was letting me go by myself after the night before. I slung my bag back over my shoulder, briefly making eye contact with one of the boys slouching in his seat. I gave him a weak smile; he was a usual in detention. I quickly turned back to my father before he noticed. "What do you need?"

"You know all the ingredients for lasagna. Just grab those and go straight home. I only have an hour with these two and I'll be right behind you," he said, eyeing the two boys. The one I'd smiled at rolled his eyes and turned away. "Go on. Don't stray on your way home. I'll be there in one hour."

I nodded. "Okay. See you."

Although I had an hour until he came home, I took the shortcuts through the alleyways and resurfaced onto the street by the grocery. The sooner I got home, the more time I would have for a quick nap before I had to be up and cooking dinner and studying once again.

Stepping into the store, I mentally listed off the things I needed for lasagna and headed towards the pasta aisle, clicking my tongue to the random song playing over the store speakers. Belatedly realizing I forgot a basket, I sighed and walked back to the front door. The clerk eyed me over her fashion magazine, recognized me, and grew bored, returning to her magazine once I grabbed a basket and stalked back off, the doorbell jingling with a new arrival.