Chapter Text
Hyunjin smiles at the girl before her. An amusement she can’t stop dancing behind her eyes. The girl squirms, but it is she who almost falters at how the girl is intently staring up at her. The intensity of her gaze amazes Hyunjin. Her gaze travels, lingering in places than some, mapping features that mean nothing to Hyunjin, a mystery in every way that her lips are set in a hard line but remaining to be an image of softness to Hyunjin. She smiles wider before clearing her throat and beginning, “In your life… What do love and affection mean?”
(Dating Class)
(Kim Jiwoo)
The first time I met her, even though I knew I was late for class, I couldn’t help but pause. I was skipping down the hall, my brown bag rattling and jiggling with every skip that I did. I liked this bag precisely for the reason that it was cute, and it matched well with my pink coat and red beret. But I digress from what I am trying to say, she was peeking in through the window. Her long wavy blonde hair on her back, wearing a long brown coat with a white hoodie peeking out and her hands in their pockets. She was the picture of a very cute girl even with her back turned, all of my “cute girl” sensors were set on high alert. I was so busy checking her out that I think she noticed. She turned and flashed a smile at me. I was right about her being cute. Her full squishy cheeks were pink, her plump pink lips were set in a smile that was soft and shy, and her eyes a warm pool of brown. She seemed embarrassed, even though I was the one caught just checking her out.
“I missed the timing to go in,” she shrugged with her cute smile, her voice soft and deep. Her brown eyes are pretty this close, and her being taller makes her cuteness easier to admire with my height. I looked down with my own smile before looking back up at her again, my grip on something loosening until it dropped. She is so cute .
(Inside the classroom, Professor Jo is already starting his class introduction. He’s already in his late 40s, dressed in his brown slacks and gray shirt, with well-kept hair, and glasses, he looked like a promising teacher when it comes to dating. He was handsome, but there was a certain wariness in him, peeking out his deep gentle voice.
“Dating,” Professor Jo sounds exasperated, wary with even just the word, “Yes. Work, extracurricular activities, exams, job prep.” He looks around the class. “In the midst of all that, including taking this class.” He pauses to observe the students once more. “You want to date that much?”
Someone answers with a snickering yes. He smiles as if he had expected the answer before it was even spoken. It probably is. In every term of this class, a proud representative would be probably in it. In this very class for those too naive about love, those too tired of trying to understand love, those who are desperate to understand love, and those who are hoping to find love. This is a class of hope, or maybe just a class for those who want to breathe. It is a class that some of them will tire of.
“Is it that worth it?” He pauses again, knowing how some of them had already judged him. “Dating.” He looks at them with his world-weary eyes, taking a deep breath he continues, “If you can, avoid it.”
He walks around the podium, already used to the weird looks directed at him by his students. Furthermore, he was, in no doubt, already anticipating some of them dropping out after this meeting or maybe even the next one. Hope can be painful, he thinks, it must be paired with caution before it breaks you. It breeds too much burden on the soul. Hope crushes it with the expectations that can be very well unmet. It is too much of a burden that one must take. Alone.)
I was peeking through the small window. The class is already in session. Some students are bored and some are looking longingly at the door. This would have been a situation where I would have felt like I had been playing a sick joke. That is, if I hadn’t met the cute girl behind me. The cute girl that I am very much aware of. I was busy thinking of how nice it would have been if we had just stayed a few minutes more together when I heard a rattling noise behind me. I turn towards the cute girl again. She’s holding my key ring and smiling at me. She’s tilting her head to the side, very much like a cute puppy would. A very cute girl. A very cute girl acting like a puppy. I can barely hold my squeal. She’s too cute!
“Thank you.” I smile at her. My smile feels too wide in my opinion, but I don’t care because she’s smiling back at me. Her eyes crinkled with faint laugh lines and I could stare into her pretty brown eyes and long fine lashes all day.
“Are you new here?” she asks. Her fluffy cheeks are almost daring me to squish it. She is just so cute .
“Yes!” I answer too quickly. I touch my cheeks and I say with my voice softening, “I am.”
My cheeks are pink again, and I hope that I look really cute right now because this moment is ROM-com-worthy in my opinion. She giggles, a weird soft whining sound. She blushes before looking away. She tiptoes, looking behind me through the window. It's all so endearing to me. “Let's go in once it gets quiet,” she whispers, grinning widely at me conspiratorially. Her nose scrunched, her eyes squinting happily, and her finger touching her nose instead of her lips. Too very cute.
I look behind me and nod, trying to hide my flustered burning wildly grinning face, but I burn even more when I turn, and she is looking through the window again. But my smile is back on my face again when she turns back to me. She's looking at me with that cute head tilt again, and I almost leaped in some sort of eureka moment when I realized she was waiting for an answer. “Okay,” I answer with a giggle and a nod that was probably too eager. I had to clear my throat and look away from her again because of my self-induced embarrassment.
“Your key ring is pretty cute.” My eyes are back on her, and she's smiling at me.
“Really?” I look down, touching my burning face. My face hurt from smiling too much, and I tried to stop myself from squealing by squishing my cheeks a little. “Thank you.” I look back up at her. My smile was still too big and my cheeks too pink. She’s smiling at me before looking through the window again. “Want to go in now?” I nod enthusiastically.
(“They often say love blinds you,” Professor Jo says, a hint of amused bitterness seeping through his voice. “Everything about them looks perfect to you, and you'd give them anything. Nothing clouds your judgment like falling in love. An idiot, that's what it turns you into. An idiot.”
His class has become busy among themselves. He is so used to this that he doesn’t even try to call for their attention anymore. Among his students, they are eager to learn, eager to leave, and bored for reasons simply because they don’t want to listen to him but want the easy A so they can’t really leave. He sounds too dreary to them. They look too young to him. The professor, in all his wise words, cannot bridge a gap made by a life he has forgotten. He has grown with life. They have grown to live life. He has forgotten what it means to live as the young.)
“Hey, Chuu,” my friends from another class hiss at me. She looks pissed, her eyebrows are drawn in irritation. “You said this class is supposed to be fun.”
“Seriously,” she lowers her voice. “The professor is a bit of a weirdo. Look, people are already dropping out.” She says this all with too much malice. Her brows are drawn with a frown of irritation. Her lips were a sneer. It's making her look too mean. I pout at her.
“What's wrong? Seems good to me,” I whisper back, still smiling. I looked behind me to where she sat. I forgot to ask her name, but I think it’s okay. I look at Professor Jo and sigh happily.
(Jeon Heejin)
I settle comfortably on my seat. Today is orientation day, so I can skip. The bus travels smoothly, the engine a lulling sound to my ears. The sun is high up, and the August air is still with a hint of heat. This day brings with it a cool breeze, a warmth that reminds me of a comfortable morning; a morning spent languidly in bed with the sheets soft as it is comforting and the sun streaming through the windows. The leaves outside are flourishing and green, the flowers colorful in vibrant eye-catching hues, and the world is beautiful with its promise. Today is a good day.
Today is a perfect day to visit him. I have been planning to visit him. We’ve been in a long-distance relationship ever since he moved to the city for work, being six years my senior, and now that I’m in college, it will be the first time that I’m seeing him after settling. Our years apart had been hard. I miss him every moment he is away.
I smile to myself, I bought groceries to cook for him today. This day would be better than most days because reunions are always the sweetest moments for people who love each other. I was never one to read, but I’ve heard people tell stories of love. I’ve seen my mom with my dad. They’re not a perfect couple. Far from it, even. They bicker about little things, they can get angry with each other, but they love each other. They always come through, and my mom always greets Dad with the biggest smile on her face whenever he’s back home from work. My dad worked in the city before but now he works home. He did it so Mom wouldn’t always be alone without me. I've learned that love is all about enduring. Love is about enduring the little things because love will always find its way to lead us to happiness.
I pull out my phone from my pocket, intending to call him. He got mad once when I came without calling. He’s very protective of me. Maybe it’s because he is older, but there are things that he gets mad about that I don’t understand. I've learned to accept that this is my own struggle in love and this will be nothing because we love each other.
“The number you have dialed is currently unavailable.” I sigh, getting a little worried now, but I won’t let something as small as this dampens my mood. Maybe he won’t get mad if I surprise him a bit. Today is a good day after all.
(Professor Jo looks at his class, his voice becoming distant even to his own ears. “Waste your time, waste your energy.”
His class murmurs among themselves. Some listened intently to his words. Some are already far away from his class. This is something that he is used to already. It can be seen in how his words can sometimes be not meant for them. On some days he speaks too much in class without talking to his class. This day is one of those days.)
I pause, looking at the little hill that the road has become. I made myself pretty for today to see him smile. I wore heels and light make-up, I even wore clothes that would make me look mature. I sigh, this is going to become a problem if I injure myself before seeing him. My shoulders feel heavy with the weight of the groceries. The sun is beginning to irritate my skin. My coat, coupled with the trek to his apartment, has made me regret my choice of wardrobe for today. I would have to retouch my make-up before meeting him.
(“The biggest problem is giving yourself to them entirely." He sounds too tired. A little too much understanding flowed through his voice like an unstoppable dam of memories. He is baring himself with his words. What he is baring is another question altogether.)
I harden my resolve. Today is going to be a good day spent with him. A minor inconvenience like this won’t stop me. I stand straighter, pulling the two bags of groceries I bought to cook for him, and I try to forget my feet that are beginning to blister. I am going to trek this road if it means I can see him today. And with that thought, my legs regain a little of their strength, and the little sweat from the sun feels cooler in my body.
(“Even if the end is right around the corner, nobody ever expects the breakup.” If his students were listening maybe his words would have meant something, if his students were older maybe they would have understood his wariness, and these were all that he wanted to believe. His thoughts linger on these things, and if he really understood them, he would have realized that maybe he was just a stranger to them now. An old stranger with words that the invincible young can’t care about. )
I walked. I walked. And I walked before turning a corner. This would be the final corner before I reach his apartment. I sigh in relief, and I can see the black car always parked near the gates of his apartment. The landlord supposedly owns it, but it is always just outside whenever I am allowed to visit, so I don’t really know. I pause, trying to give my feet some rest. I look back up ahead of the road. I gather the groceries and continue to walk. This day is a good day. Today would be a good day because I have put in the effort to make this a good day.
(His eyes clear and his words echo to someone’s ear. “Even if you become broken in the end, you can't stop yourself.”
Maybe if someone told him these words when he was younger, he would have avoided many heartaches. Or maybe the heart of the young would have been stupid in its belief of being invincible. He wasn’t sure what love meant to him now. He has laugh lines in the corners of his eyes but smiling or laughing has become foreign to him. He wonders about the reasons why he smiles now. He becomes amused with this thought, and a bit of lightness warms his eyes.)
I ring the doorbell again. My feet hurt because of my heels, but that is the least of my concerns. Nobody is answering the doorbell. Maybe he isn’t home yet, but I remember him telling me yesterday that he doesn’t have work today. I frown. Today should be a good day.
I take my phone out and try to dial his number again. He still doesn’t answer. I look down at my feet. My ankles have blisters because of the heels. My ankles look red with a bit of blood that has wet my heels, and I reach for my handkerchief, before crouching down to try to clean the wound. I try to tap the wound with as much care as I can, but I wince, it stings because of the flayed skin. Maybe I shouldn’t have forced myself to wear it today. It’s new, so my feet are not yet properly accustomed to it.
I shake my head. I’m tired. The sun is nearing noon, and it's starting to become irritating to my skin again. The trek has done nothing to help me, and I can feel my frustration rising. I try to look through the gates. There is no one to answer me. No one would answer the gate, so the landlord could be out or asleep. A lot of people who rent rooms in the apartment are students or people working in the city. Today can’t be helped. Maybe I should’ve waited for him to invite me. I look at the two bags of groceries that I’ve put in the ground. I bought a lot so he could have more to eat. I’m going to have to bring all of this with me back down. I wouldn’t have anyone to leave the food with. I have acted stupidly again.
I prepare to leave, gathering the groceries that I bought for today. My thoughts wander to what I should do with the groceries, maybe I can cook food with my new roommate, it would be nice to become closer to her. Images of the cute bubbly clingy Chuu come to my mind and I snort. I don’t think I should be worried about becoming close to Chuu. She’s close to everyone.
“Gyeong-ju, did you have a good time today?” I stop in my tracks. My feet giving out on me and I blame it on my hurting feet which I have been ignoring. My chest clenches, my breathing shortens, and I blame it all on the fact that I fell. It wasn’t because I heard his voice saying another person’s name. A woman’s name.
“Yeah.” She sounded sweet. Her voice is fine and soft. It felt grating to my ears. My eyes water and I’m glad that the car obscures my view of them. I don’t want to see him with his arms around her. Or maybe I should just look. Like ripping a band-aid from a fresh wound. I should spare myself the ambiguity. But I see him now in my mind, and my throat feels raw. I’m too much of a coward.
“Want some?” I stiffen, my grip on my ankles tightening. The stinging pain distracts me from her voice. I try to massage my ankle softer. I don’t want to be seen sprawled on the road. I’m already as pathetic as I am.
“Good?”
“Good.” There’s a little smile in his voice, and I can see him in my mind’s eye looking down at her with his handsome face. “Where should we go next time?”
They sounded closer and I hurried to stand up. I gather my groceries with frantic movements, no doubt the contents are already scrambled, and I would have to sift through them later. I try not to wince through the pain but my hand’s grasp on the car’s bumper slips. I fall again and the alarm activates. I close my eyes and I try to breathe slower, waiting for the inevitable.
“Hold on, it must be a cat…” His voice doesn't bring the calmness that they usually do to me.
(“You worry that you're not loved, and your confidence hits new lows.” These words fall on deaf ears. They can listen, but they do not understand it. They hear, and they try, but they do not know this pain yet. Perhaps it is better this way. Professor Jo looks at them, and he hopes that they don’t understand this yet. He hopes because, even with age, he is still as vulnerable as they are.)
We’re settling down in our seats. He took me to a nearby cafe. I can’t even try to look around and enjoy the place. This was the type of place he used to take me when it was a good day. He didn’t look at me the whole way here. And I just know that this day can’t end the way that I had hoped it would. The waiter came and he ordered for the both of us. The waiter looked at us weirdly. Or maybe she was looking at me with pity in her eyes. He took Gyeong-ju here.
“Why are you here on a weekday?” he asks me. His friend left after meeting me. She was nice, and all I could do the entire time was hang my head low. He apologized to her for me. She was beautiful. She had long straight hair, and she was wearing a dress that he had always wanted me to wear. She was good and polite. She was the type of woman he always wanted me to be. “What about your classes?”
“Huh?” My mind clears from the sound of his voice. It was his lecturing voice. His voice is laced with irritation. His brown eyes are glaring at me. He isn’t even trying to hide how he’s disappointed that I had cut his moment with her short.
“Oh, that...” I can’t look at him properly. He looks handsome today. His black hair is styled to frame his face. His clothes are more tasteful than the usual T-shirts. He had put the effort to pick a jacket that matched his blue shirt. He had a good day.
“We have an orientation session this week so I can skip it,” I reply softly.
“Are you bragging about your college life?” he sneers at me, and my eyes are back to him again because that was what he told me. He told me to always look at him when he's talking. He told me this when he was smiling at me. His handsome face twists with disgust now. His eyes can’t even look at me as gently as he used to. When was the last time he smiled at me?
“That's not what I–” my voice is too weak. Powerless in his gaze. Pathetic.
“And how can you just come like that?” he cuts me off. He’s blatantly expressing his distaste and my heart clenches with the way that he almost spits each word at me. “I have something called privacy, you know?”
“I called, but you didn't pick up, and you didn't answer my messages, so I got worried.” My eyes dart back to the table, my voice lowering with the weltering look that he fixes on me. I hear an indignant huff. It hurts when I look at him now.
“You're using me as an excuse again?” his voice rises with every word. I bite my cheek and my eyes blur with unshed tears. “What are you trying to say, that you did nothing wrong? Heejin,” I look back at him, “Think about it for once. Did I ever ask you to buy me stuff like this?”
“No.” It was supposed to be for both of us.
“This isn't a feel-good surprise for me. It's lacking basic manners.” I prepare myself for his next words. I’ve heard him say these words so many times that it had made itself home in the darkest pits of my mind. A whispering fiend that reminds me of my failure. “Is this something I have to teach you every little thing about?”
“Sorry, I didn't think you'd dislike it.” My fingers curl and I watch it as it makes small indents on the skin.
“Don't be hurt by what I tell you. I say these things to help you,” he sighs now. He sounds tired. I bow my head again and I try to stop the onslaught of tears. I bite my lips and I try to talk, but it’s soundless. Just like every time that this happens.
“Are you crying again? It's frustrating.” he looks embarrassed. I’m pathetic.
(“Don't you feel like yelling at other people when they are being so passive? But, hey..." Professor Jo sighs, he almost seems like he finds the question funny. His face remains amused when he says the next words, but his words are bitter and altogether too tired, “Isn't this the same story for us all?”)
“No?” My voice cracks, the sound soft, and the sob hiding behind it is pathetic, even to my ears. I shake my head, trying to gather every courage that I can muster, my hands curling on itself harder. “Who was that girl?”
“Girl?” He seems taken aback. His face becoming confused. Trying too hard to be innocent. “What girl?”
“From before.” I smile, my bitterness seeping into my voice. ”The person you were walking with.” He looks at me with wide eyes. He looks surprised and I want to know what he would do now. He scoffs. Shaking his head before he pins his eyes on me with that look again.
“There you go making up whole stories in your head again,” he says with annoyance. He looks at me irritated, his incredulity is written all over his face, and his eyes are becoming colder. He’s looking at me as if I am stupid. “She's an old coworker called Gyeongju. I told you about her before. By the way, have you gained weight?”
“Huh? I don't know, have I?” I smile at him. Touching my face, I feel my heart clenching with anger and self-pity. And I remember the effort I made to prepare myself today. Trying to look pretty just so he could compliment me. “I'm just a little puffy from not getting enough sleep the past few days.”
“Appearances are important at the start of a semester, so put some thought into it.” He smiles at me, he looks at me like he has won, but my mind doesn't register this yet.
“You're not angry anymore?” My hope rises with the way he looks at me. He looks soft again. His smile is the same smile he gives me during good days.
“Angry? I'm not angry.” He is smiling at me but I wonder why my heart is not pleased like how I thought it would be. “I was just worried you'd go around making mistakes.”
(“Those of you who haven't yet begun dating are probably thinking it'll be different for you. Dating…” He pauses, looking at his class. Taking his time to see the faces of these young people with too many hopes and dreams. It’s disappointing how it can be easily crushed. “It's all about the same. Avoiding it if you can is a hundred, a thousand times better,” he chuckles, “No, a billion times better.”
He smiles at them. His smile is genuine and strained. Crooked with all the things that made him handsome, his words evil with their bitterness. And for a little while the young man who believed in love and all things pure and beautiful it brings, merges with the sardonic man that lives within his place now. “Now then, who wants to date regardless?”
Almost all of them raise their hands enthusiastically. They’re eager and young. Zealous and invincible. They feel prepared to take on the world.
“See?” he chuckles and it is full of amusement and jealousy, “I could keep going on forever, but in the end, you still want to date. That's the problem. Troublesome love,” he sighs, “We'd be happy if we didn't need to think about it but we want to be loved so badly and give it too, but it's hard to bear the feeling. I can't stop you if you insist on following this road full of suffering," he smiles at them wider, and now he is old and vulnerable, "But if you're going to anyway, why not try your best?”
He smiles at them, and it is genuine and hopeful. He’s just as foolish as they are. “No, you should definitely do the best you can. To keep yourself in the end.”)
“Darling, so when can we meet again?” His phone buzzes and I’m looking at him again with the same look I’ve been giving him before we became together. Longing for him with the earnest wish of understanding him. I never really had him even when he smiled and asked me to be his. My gaze travels to his phone.
“Well, I'll let you know.” He’s smiling down at his phone. Distracted and away from me.
“Is it that girl from before?” I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.
“Dammit! Why are you peeking at my phone?” His voice rises, a hardness in every word as he glares at me. “Are you saying you don't trust me?”
“No, that's not it.” My hopes to salvage the moment crumble with every piercing glare he sends my way, and when I try to say more, desperate more than ever-begging almost, “Sorry, I was wrong!” My hope withers. I was too late.
A look of finality crosses his face. “Don't come anymore.”
“Huh?” My mind reels. Every thought escapes me and my ears ring with static. Panic courses through me and he is all that I can hear. The world is lost at this moment.
“Let's take a break. I think that's the right thing to do.” My eyes become sharp and he is all that I can see. The way that his lips quirk in contempt. His brows furrowed in anger. His eyes become sharp with something that I don’t want to know. He runs his hand through his hair. A habit he does when frustrated. He slumps in his seat and sighs. He was never really mine.
“Why are you like this all of a sudden?” my meek voice escapes me, giving all the fight that I have left in me.
“I'm just frustrated, alright? I want to be alone.” And he does look exhausted now. His brown eyes couldn’t look at me, his shoulders becoming less tense with his every breath, he had mussed his hair from frustration, but he wasn’t tired like me. He’s just tired of me. “I'm going.”
“I just love–”
“I know you love me!” He cuts me off again. “It's what you tell me every day, isn't it?” he adds with a sigh. He gets up and leaves. He doesn’t even look back.
“I just,” my tears fall now. I taste blood in my mouth and the insides of my cheeks sting. My feet feel too heavy and my heart cries with its own pain. There are little crescents on my skin again.
(“Because in life you just want to be loved,” Professor Jo’s smile softens, “Is that really something that can't be said? Is that really such an excessive demand from life?”)
(From mom:
I miss my daughter. You were born to be loved)
(To Darling:
Darling, I made it home (Unread))
I’m just trying to find happiness. I just wanted to be happy. My eyes sting again. My frown deepens and the unread on my screen hurts me more than it should. It hurts me with the implicit message it has. Loving was never supposed to be this hard.
“Don't date. If you date, everything will be ruined, or so he says.” Chuu’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “Thought he was a total weirdo at first. He's definitely not normal, but strangely, that has a little appeal of its own, you know?”
My mind clears, I look down, and try to sniff as discretely as I can. I use my gray sweater to wipe any evidence of tears from my eyes. I look at Chuu with her pink pajamas and red round glasses. We are sitting on our room’s floor. Eating spicy fried chicken to celebrate the first day of school. Our things are yet to be unpacked, and I think that we should have started that first, but I can’t really say no to Chuu. I’m not sure anyone can. Tonight was supposed to be a fun night. The perfect ending for a good day.
“Heejin!” She looks at me with her reprimanding look. A cute scowl on her face, with the oil from the chicken we were eating smeared on her upper lip. “Are you crying again?”
“It's too spicy,” I say with a little chuckle. I hand her a tissue, my chest hurts, but I try to smile at her. She’s too much of a kid to be older than I. She doesn’t deserve me dampening her good mood.
“This won't do, girl! You need to relearn dating,” she says all this while wiping her lips and chewing on a bite of a chicken at the same time. It has the effect of making her look too comical and adorable.
“Me and you. Let's take this together. The aesthetics of dating!” She pounces on me excitedly, handing me the class curriculum. I almost lost my balance, if it wasn’t for the fact that Chuu greets me with a barreling hug every time I see her, I would have not been prepared for her sudden weight on me. She’s surprisingly strong and muscular in a lot of ways. If it weren’t also for the fact that she loves hugging so much, maybe it would have taken me longer to know that she has a black belt in taekwondo. There are a lot of surprising facts about her, really.
“What's this supposed to be?” I read the class introduction. I see Professor Jo Seokhyun’s name and I feel myself grow hot in shame. I turn to her, indignant in all intent of trying to cover how embarrassing the feeling of needing to take a class on dating is. “I'm not going to take a class on dating.”
“Hey, nobody's telling you to find a date there,” she chides, but her eyes are wide with mischief burning in them. Too suspicious. “This is an optional pass or fail class, so get credits and maybe make some friends too. You don't have any guy friends, do you?”
“Don't they say friendships between opposite sexes don't exist?” I say exasperated. My eyes squint at her but she remains unbothered. A week of living with her had made me realize just how useless trying to act mad is with her. She likes acting innocent. An annoying little brat. An annoying little brat who is older than me somehow.
“Who said that?” she asks almost sounding offended. “Someone who can fill needs that boyfriends or girlfriends can't is a guy friend. You can act however you want with them. They're fun. It's way better than having a significant other.”
“Really?” I ask skeptically.
“I'm telling you! You should be going to a guy for love advice too. Takes a guy to know one.” She nods to her words her way of trying to look wise, and I just snort at her. It’s hard to believe she’s a year older than me. She's a second-year student and I thought she was a freshman like me the first time I met her. And it's harder to believe just how annoying she is. Especially since when I was told I would be rooming with someone older than me I was thinking more in the line of a really nice older sister type. Someone who would guide me with all her serious knowledge in life, and all that jazz. She was a real eye-opener for me. She's a brat who has older person privileges. And I have no choice but to like her because it's hard not to. I think it's a crime to hate her actually, but I'm allowed to say she's a brat because she is one.
“What love advice?” My eyes widen at her, my voice teasing. “You've never even been in a relationship.”
“Hey!” Now she looks offended, glaring at me with her small squishy face. “You don't need a boyfriend to seek love advice! More importantly, you should use this opportunity to find a guy friend.”
“Well, I don't think it's for me,” I say smiling at her faintly. My gaze travels back to my phone and I can almost feel my eyes burning again. Still unread.
“Will you stop looking at your phone? Forget him.” She’s looking at me with sympathy in her eyes, her voice sounding serious now. I’m failing even in just this. I already told myself that I wouldn't dampen her mood. “Isn't it obvious he's trying to get you to break up with him?”
“I told you it's not like that.” I smile up at her, peering through my phone because I couldn't look at her directly. I am silently begging her to stop. “He just needs some time to rest because he's so busy these days.”
“You're such a doormat,” she says with a voice that sounds defeated. She shakes her head at me, taking the class curriculum from the floor before hitting me with it.
“Come on. Let's take it together.” I glare at her and she shrugs. “Hmm? You never know. Getting a guy friend might help you figure it out.”
I sigh and look back down my phone, but the moment I try to open it, it's gone and I look back up at her. Glaring at her with as much irritation as I could muster. She looks at me with a smirk before hiding my phone on the back of her pink stuffed bear.
“Stop looking at your phone!” she smiles at me cheekily, laying the class curriculum in front of me, “And look at this. There are these types of questions…”
(Professor Jo looks around his class, watching them flip through the questions, he smiles at them once more before beginning to relay the first instruction for their class. The first official activity that will guide his students for the whole term of this class. “What constitutes your perfect day? When was the last time you cried in front of someone else? If there is anything you've long wished for? To fall in love with anyone, do this. 36 questions that lead to love. With these questions, I think we might conclude our study in 6 months. Pick your question and ask someone while looking into their eyes,” he pauses before looking back up at them, “Who wants to go first?”
A hand shoots up and Professor Jo points at a girl sitting close to the podium. She’s an eager student. He has seen her taking notes more than is necessary. He nods at her and the student stands up with her partner following her to the little private room of their classroom.)
Heejin follows Hyunjin. She watches the girl’s black hair up in a ponytail, swishing about with her every step. Her blue shirt is well ironed, the sleeves tucked and displaying her toned forearms, her black slacks are fitted to her legs, and she stands with a formality that can be seen as stiff. She does not smile a lot. She’s pretty in a way that is too intimidating.
They try to settle comfortably across each other. The room is small and the little round tea table is cute and cozy, but the room feels a little too stifling. The girl from across Heejin clears her throat, smiling a little before flipping through her notes, looking at Heejin, and beginning, “In your life…”
Heejin has never seen someone so serious and stiff before. The girl before her is too formal. Too proper, and yet her large dark brown eyes look at her like they are dancing with amusement. A smile threatening to break-out on Heejin’s lips, she stares back at her. Heejin’s eyes travel to the girl’s lips staring intently at how it forms words. The lilting deep voice was a gentle wave of the sea to her ears. She looks back at Hyunjin’s eyes. A feeling of giddiness in her chest, fluttering and skipping with something she does not understand. “What does love and affection mean?”