Work Text:
“I like you—I thought I should let you know.” He delivers the words with steady confidence and direct precision; he’s smiling, a little more subdued than his usual bright and toothy grin, but his dimples are present, denting his cheeks like they always do. He pauses at the end of his sentence, slightly tilting his head to the side as he rubs his neck, and he averts his gaze – the only real hint that he actually feels nervous about the confession despite the confident and almost nonchalant delivery.
Jiheon stands there, frozen as she stares at him, her response stuck at the tip of her tongue, because,
Did Yang Jeongin really just—?
Pause, because context is important: Jeongin wasn’t Jiheon’s type.
She didn’t think he was, anyway—or, well. She’s pretty sure that he wasn’t, at the very least.
Maybe the correct statement to make is: for Baek Jiheon, there was once a point in time when Yang Jeongin was nothing more than a passing face in the school’s everyday crowd.
That said, she does have a pretty vivid memory of the first time she met Jeongin. It was the second day of her first year in high school – classes were over for the afternoon, and she had decided that she was going to join the broadcast club for her required extracurricular, due to the behest of her seatmate and brand new friend, Yuna. (Jiheon—well; she found Yuna to be extremely pretty, and it’s kind of hard to say no to really pretty people, you see.)
“Welcome to the club! I’m Yang Jeongin, I’m the secretary.” He had introduced himself with a big smile that literally glinted thanks to the metallic braces that adorned his teeth.
It was almost cute, in a way, his lack of shame at being a metal mouth.
Almost, but not quite, Jiheon had thought. She didn’t really pay much attention to him past that.
(Not for a while, anyway.)
If Jiheon is to align her Jeongin memories in chronological order, the next one doesn’t really happen until many months later – almost an entire school year, even. Jiheon was hanging out with Yujin from middle school, when they ran across him and his friends at the Lotteria just a few blocks away from school.
“Oh, hey,” Jeongin was the first one to notice her, greeting her with cheeks split in a wide grin as he and his friends passed by the booth that Jiheon and Yujin were seated in. It was the first time that she noticed the distinct lack of metal adorning his teeth. Distractingly, his smile looked incredibly bright and shiny, and she had briefly wondered exactly when he had his braces removed.
And then he’d almost tripped over his own two feet, and Jiheon had to hold back laughter while his own friends did him no such courtesy.
Biting the inside of her cheek, she simply bowed her head like the respectful underclassman she was, and opted not say much else apart from a cordial yet curt, “Sunbaenim.”
“Who is that?” Yujin hissed at her as soon as Jeongin and his friends settled in a corner table that was presumably out of earshot from them. “He’s cute,” she added while continuously trying to sneak obvious glances at Jeongin’s direction.
“You’re practically taller than him,” was Jiheon’s only response like that should be enough to discredit Jeongin’s cuteness; she was more focused on unwrapping her hamburger, that in paying attention to Yujin’s rambling. The thing was that Yujin now attended an all-girls’ high school, and Jiheon thought that maybe this had affected her perception of boys. (The last time they’d hung out together was just a couple of weeks ago; they’d met up with a few other classmates from junior high and Yujin had blown up Jiheon’s phone, talking about how cute she now found Sungwon to be, when back in the day she only ever talked about how annoying he was whenever he just breathed in the same direction as her.)
Yujin shrugged. “That’s not answering my question,” she pressed, laughing.
“An upperclassman,” Jiheon finally caved, shrugging because she didn’t really want to elaborate more than that. She had anticipated a fun afternoon out with her friend, after all, not an afternoon full of talking about boys. “We’re not really all that close,” she added, just in case her friend got any bright ideas about being introduced.
“Will you be my vice-president next year, Jiheon-ssi?”
Suppose, one day Jiheon will look back and be able to say that these words are what caused a shift between her and Jeongin – at the very least they provided an excuse for them to grow closer.
It was after a club meeting (on a Wednesday, at that, and for some reason, Jiheon remembers this), and Jeongin coming up to her and asking to talk was quite unexpected considering the most they normally do as acknowledgment of each other is whenever Jeongin hands the club attendance sheet over for her to sign and pass around.
She had agreed (of course), and after everyone else had left the club room, that was when Jeongin asked.
“Excuse me?” Initially, she was confused as to what he even meant – but it only took her a couple of seconds to realise that he was talking about student council. “You’re running?”
Jeongin looked hesitant for a very brief moment before he gave her a nod. “That’s the plan.”
“For the entire school, not just the club?” Jiheon didn’t know why she was asking, when she already knew that Choi Beomgyu had the broadcast club’s presidency in the bag, and everybody knew that he was Jeongin’s best friend.
Although, it suddenly made clearer sense why Jeongin wasn’t touted as the current club leader, Kim Seungmin’s, successor instead.
“Yeah,” Jeongin nodded and looked at her expectantly; Jiheon had to admit that her interest was piqued – she had always enjoyed being in charge, and had thrived from the responsibility of being class representative for two terms in a row. Still, she was a bit hesitant and unsure about being specifically picked.
“Why me?”
Jeongin laughed. “Why not you?”
“Yuna’s more popular,” she pointed out, because in her head, for someone like Jeongin (who was generally well-loved and popular among the student body—at least from what Jiheon gathered), her friend (bright, bubbly Yuna who turned heads and produced laughter everywhere she went) was clearly a more sensible pick. (Granted, even as she made the inquiry, she already knew Yuna wouldn’t do it anyway; the other girl had confided that she was planning on focusing more on the volleyball team the next year, especially after she was made a regular and given vice captain status—Jiheon had kind of wished that she was more athletic so she could be on the team with her friend, but she would digress.)
“She is, but you’re a lot more focused and organized and driven and—” He shrugged. “That’s admirable—and also things that I need a lot more of.”
“Well—thanks for confirming my lack of popularity,” Jiheon said, unable to hold back her natural brand of sass, but her tone is without any real bite to it. Truthfully, she’s mostly surprised that Jeongin had apparently been paying enough attention to be able to identify a few of her virtues.
“You’re welcome,” Jeongin shot back, eyes disappearing into figurative crescent moons as he laughed and humored her. “So—what do you say?”
“I—ah.” She wanted to say that she would think about it, maybe, but what came out of her mouth (for reasons she still has not been able to identify, or accept) was instead a very quick, “Okay.”
(They won.
The Yang-Baek combination pleased the teenaged masses of their high school, and just like that, Jiheon was set to welcome her second year of high school, as second-in-command of the student body.
She’d like to think there was never any doubt, of course.)
“What?” Jiheon finally manages to say something, but it isn’t exactly an actual response to Jeongin’s confession.
Jeongin, unsurprisingly, laughs at her. “Cat got your tongue?” He teases, and Jiheon feels warmth spread across her cheeks. “You’re usually so much more articulate than this.”
“Tch,” she scoffs, tongue tied as ever, and it’s annoying, because Jeongin is completely spot on, and her sudden inability to cobble words together is alarming, if anything.
Right before the spring semester of Jiheon’s second year started, the student council had held a day-long team building activity nearby the Han River. It wasn’t exactly anything spectacular (they didn’t really have the budget for anything grand, being high school students and all), and was mostly just a day filled with eating and sharing snacks while discussing ideas and finalising plans for the upcoming school year’s activity calendar.
Jeongin, it turned out, was not kidding at all when he said that he needed Jiheon’s focus and drive and organizational skills more than any brand of popularity.
The weeks of vacation leading up to the start of the school year had Jiheon’s phone blowing up at odd hours of the day, with Jeongin either assigning her new tasks, or confirming tiny finalised details with her.
It would have been annoying, really—in fact it should be annoying, except it was actually— well. It wasn't.
Not that Jiheon would admit it out loud, but it was partly, sort of, kind of, maybe cute—mostly because she lived for the feeling of being useful.
“Geez, oppa,” she texted him once (casual and comfortable, because winning an election together clearly meant they were allowed to drop sunbae-hoobae formalities – at least that’s what Jeongin said to her). “Don’t pop a vein. It’s not like we’re hosting VIP’s—if anything, as President YOU’RE the VIP and to be frank that’s not really saying a lot.” She added a ‘ㅋㅋ’ at the end of the message, paused, and then added several more for good measure.
No one was more surprised than Jiheon herself when, on the first day back to school, after the bell signalling the end of classes rang, she found Jeongin standing outside her classroom, waiting for her.
“How did you get here so fast?” She asked, more confused by this than his actual presence. To be fair, the bell just rang, and the third year classrooms were located at the other end of the building, one storey above where the second year classrooms were.
Jeongin simply shrugged, and then he flashed her a grin – bright and pearly white as usual – that made him look somewhere halfway along the scale of proud and smug.
“Got an early pass,” he explained. “I told Choi-ssaem that I needed to set up for the council meeting.”
Jiheon laughed and shook her head – there wasn’t even really anything to ‘set up,’ because she was pretty sure they left the student council room spic and span after last year’s student body council had entrusted them with the keys to it; she easily fell in step next to Jeongin anyway, much to the curious surprise of her classmates.
“Ningning wants to know what’s up with you and Jeongin-oppa,” Yuna asked her, two weeks into the school year, while Jiheon helped her with Trigonometry in between classes. “I think—” Her friend had hesitated, which was what actually caught Jiheon’s interest, and prompted her to face the other girl, silently urging for her to continue. “I think it’s because he’s interested. You know. In you.”
Uncertainty was mirrored in Yuna’s big, bright eyes, and maybe she shouldn’t have, but Jiheon burst into laughter anyway because she knew that her friend’s assumption was far from the truth.
“I don’t think Kai-ssi is asking because of—whatever you think is the reason he’s asking,” Jiheon pointed out, a small smile curving along her lips as she corrected her friend’s equation with a pencil. She wanted to point out that it was probably more the boy’s way of trying to strike a conversation with her friend, but she figured she’d let Yuna figure that on her own.
Yuna narrowed her eyes at Jiheon instead, clearly not paying any more attention to the worksheet they were sharing. “But—” She looked like she wanted to ask Jiheon to explain what she meant, but she shook her head at the last second, and pivoted back to her original point. “That doesn’t clarify what’s going on with you and Jeongin-oppa.”
Jiheon’s brow genuinely furrowed. “What do you mean—? We’re in student council together, that’s what’s going on!” She paused, and then laughed, shaking her head as if to show that Yuna was being ridiculous.
“I think he likes you too,” Yuna said.
Jiheon almost choked on her own laughter; Yuna making commentary about something like this was funny considering the state of her own romantic life, because she could not be any more off the mark. It was especially funny that Yuna seemed to be so convinced that all these boys liked Jiheon, when it was clear as day that all their male classmates fancied Yuna instead. “Well, I think Kai-ssi likes you,” she pressed. Yuna’s already big eyes grew even wider, and Jiheon could only laugh because of how comical her friend looked. “And Jeongin-oppa isn’t my type, anyway,” she continued, flashing a tight-lipped smile. “So can we now please go back to this math problem?”
(It's a little embarrassing that it turns out Yuna wasn't completely off base; even more so because Jiheon likes being correct on a regular basis and – she supposes she’d have to admit to being wrong about some things now.)
“How long?”
“How long what?” Jeongin gives her an incredulous look; he makes a gurgling sound that resembles something halfway between a groan and a laugh, and Jiheon takes a deep breath.
“How long have you, uh—” She squeaks, quite uncharacteristically she’d like to think; her nerves are clearly taking over, so she tries to dispel them by laughing. Jeongin, albeit still looking confused, joins her. “How long have you—uh. Liked me?” She clarifies.
“Oh.” This time, Jeongin’s laughter is more carefree and genuine, which only serves to help deepen the red on Jiheon’s cheeks. “Does it even matter?”
It probably shouldn’t – it really shouldn’t, and maybe it actually doesn’t, but Jiheon is curious anyway.
Jiheon switched cram schools after her mother's friend recommended one that supposedly bragged of a ninety percent CSAT passing rate. She didn't really mind the longer hours because she liked studying anyway, and it turned out to be an easier commute from school.
Jeongin, it turned out, worked part time as a receptionist just down the road, at an old beat-down looking, yet strangely popular noraebang place.
“Don't you get tired juggling everything?” Jiheon asked him once, as they sat together in the back of the bus – she was on her way to cram school, he to work. As easily as he’d taken to messaging her over the winter break, they had managed to form a quick routine involving bi-weekly student council meetings and daily after school commute together – and maybe she should have thought more about how quickly this routine was formed, but at the time it only mattered that everything was convenient for her.
“I get paid,” Jeongin pointed out. “Don't you get tired of studying all the time?”
Jiheon had laughed – that seemed like such a silly notion to her. “I get paid with good grades,” she countered.
“Nerd,” Jeongin had teased her in turn. “Baek Jiheon is a nerd!”
“You're going to take that back one day when you're asking my help with Advanced Korean History,” she huffed, wanting to appear unaffected but unable to keep all of her chagrin hidden. “What’s wrong with liking a high GPA?”
“Nothing,” Jeongin answered promptly, surprisingly genuine without any trace of teasing. “It’s admirable, actually. You’re admirable.”
The surprise compliment almost made Jiheon choke on her own saliva, but then Jeongin breaks out into a wide, playful grin, and she’s suddenly unsure how much he’d meant his words to begin with.
“Shut up,” she berated him instead, hand slapping his arm and just causing him to laugh even louder.
Once, after Yuna left for volleyball practice, but before Jiheon could head to the usual broadcast club Thursday meeting, Doa from Class 2-E cornered her.
“You’re on your way to see Jeongin-sunbaenim, right?” The other girl asked, barely giving Jiheon time to respond before she held out a pale pink envelope – sealed with a red heart sticker – towards her.
Jiheon wasn’t even really surprised because it was not the first time someone in her year (and once, even a third year that she knew from club) had asked her to pass a ‘message’ on to Jeongin. (In hindsight, she probably should have said no to the first one who asked – maybe then she wouldn’t have felt obliged to keep playing messenger in the interest of so-called fairness.)
“Uh, yeah,” she nodded, smiling as she took the (presumably) confession letter from Doa’s hands; she slipped it inside the cover flap of the textbook she was carrying in her arms.
“You’re very close with him these days, aren’t you?” Doa asked, a hint of accusation in her tone despite the cordial expression she displayed; her smile was a slight one, but it was still wide enough that Jiheon was able to take note of the glint of her braces – she remembers this because it briefly brought her back to memories of a time when her only impression of Jeongin was nothing more than that club senior with the shiny smile.
“We work together,” she answered, trying her best not to sound as exasperated as she felt – she had been hearing this particular observation far too often, and she wasn’t sure how these people wanted her to respond; even more so if they were trying to make her some sort of romantic go-between. “We have student council, and we have club together,” she added with a shrug, the only clarification she could really give. The other girl looked somewhat skeptical, but she smiled and nodded anyway – not like she had any other choice considering she was the one asking for a favor.
(The letter, like the handful more that came before it, simply went into Jeongin’s backpack pocket after Jiheon handed it over to him. If he ever read it, he didn’t do it in front of her—and if he ever acknowledged any of its contents directly to it’s writer, Jiheon never really did find out.)
Yujin had laughed at her when she had inadvertently shared her new designation as Jeongin’s “unwitting love messenger” – that wasn’t how she worded it, but those were Yujin’s words after hearing her out. Yujin, at the time, had managed to snag herself a boyfriend who went to a neighboring all boys high school (typical, if you asked Jiheon, but Yujin never did ask, so Jiheon kept the thought to herself like a good friend), and as a result was acting like an expert on all things related to romance.
“This sounds like a youth drama—like it can be the plot to Reply 2020, or something,” Yunjin gushed, which only earned her a dubious snort from Jiheon.
“That’s just silly!”
“No it’s not—it’s cute! The obvious end game here is the two of you falling in love and living happily ever after,” Yujin declared, giggling.
“You’ve been watching too many dramas,” Jiheon said, with a shake of her head; despite this, however, she could feel an unfamiliar warmth spread across her cheeks, and she had to reach for her glass of cold water to cool down.
“Well—” Yujin was still speaking, “Unless he’s gay.” She volunteered the theory in such a casual and collected manner, and Jiheon almost choked on her drink.
“What?!” She sputtered in surprise, wincing in pain at the minimal amount of water she had accidentally snorted in the process.
Yujin laughed, eyes sparkling with mischief. “You said he never looks all that excited about the confessions—most guys are usually smug about that kind of thing!”
“Maybe he’s just a nice guy—or maybe he’s too used to confessions he doesn’t really care anymore!” Jiheon argued. “I really don’t think you’re doing your math right.”
Yujin scoffed, that teasing twinkle in her eyes more pronounced than ever. “Not everyone regularly averages a 90 in math, but that doesn’t mean some of us aren’t smart enough about other things!”
Jiheon groaned, shook her head and simply gave her friend a resigned smile; she knew when to pick her battles. “Eat your burger, Yujinnie.”
“Eat your words, Jiheonnie,” Yujin shot back with more laughter. “One day, you will.”
“And if I say I’ve liked you from the start are you even going to believe me?”
Jiheon opens her mouth to react, but nothing comes out, so she closes it again, while Jeongin stares at her, decidedly looking like he’s waiting for an actual before continuing.
“Yes?” She squeaks out eventually, after a more prolonged pause. “Yes!” She repeats, with just a tad more conviction as she reaches over to slap Jeongin’s arm. And then, “—I’m not sure,” she admits, uncertainty back in her tone.
“Yah!” Jeongin snorts, rubbing his arm, right where she hit it. “You can’t even make your mind up!”
“It’s just so—out of the blue,” Jiheon declares, even though a small voice at the back of her head is gently chastising her: Is it, really?
“Do I ever lie? Make things up?” Jeongin asks, a lot more solemn in tone now; and that’s just it, really – Jeongin has a friendly face and an adorable smile that has earned him the admiration of the entire school, but he also has a sharp tongue and a straightforward mindset – both of which he has in common with her, and are parts of why they get on so famously, and how they manage to work so well in their running of the student council together.
“No,” she admits, because just like Jeongin always gives it straight to her, so does she with him – mostly, anyway. (Feelings are quite pesky, after all.)
“I always thought you had a real nice smile,” Jeongin begins, and Jiheon has to bite the inside of her cheek so that she doesn’t automatically grin at that. “But there was this one time—you and Yuna were huddled together in the corner of the club room—I think you were helping her with English lessons and you looked so serious—” He stops, and a sheepish chuckle escapes him. “I thought you looked beautiful,” he continues in an almost whisper, “—and then we started spending more time together, and it was easy—just being around you is easy, and fun, and—look, don’t make me have to explain that I like you, please…”
He trails off completely, and for the first time since she’s known him, he actually seems shy and embarrassed.
And Jiheon has to admit, the image kind of tugs at her own heart strings.
If it isn’t already obvious: somewhere down the line, Baek Jiheon wavered, and maybe considered that Yang Jeongin was her type after all.
It took her over a year for this to dawn on her – one year, seven months and a few weeks in change – but when it finally came to her, it hit her like a tanker truck.
They had been sitting together in the student council room – that day’s meeting had ended early because all the third years were busy, and they had next to nothing on the agenda. This meant that they had time to kill before they had to catch their bus, and they were spending it by doing independent study.
Jeongin was looking frustrated as he answered some sample exam, and Jiheon couldn’t help but look over to check and see what it was that had him stumped.
“Oh!” A soft gasp of recognition escaped, prompting Jeongin to look up in acknowledgment. Right before that moment, Jiheon hadn’t realised that she had been leaning in so closely, to the point that their faces were barely an inch away from each other. She couldn’t help but take note of how bad Jeongin’s eye bags had gotten, and then Jeongin blinked at her, and she immediately sprung away, even as something unfamiliar fluttered in her chest.
“You need to get rid of the y’s so you can solve for x,” she explained, keeping her voice even in an attempt to ignore the fluttering.
“You know how to do this?” Jeongin looked surprised, but he pushed his worksheet over for them to share.
“We covered this in cram school just last week,” Jiheon shared, right before she started solving Jeongin’s equation, slowly, surely, and with accompanying explanation just as she remembered her cram school instructor teaching it.
“Thank you,” Jeongin told her with a grateful smile. “I think I get it now—? I hope I do.”
“No problem,” Jiheon chirped happily, proud to have been able to help, and feeling good about retaining the lesson in her head. “See? It pays to be a nerd sometimes!” She teased, playfully calling back to old banter of theirs.
She fully expected Jeongin to quip right back, but he just smiled and went back to his worksheet. Something had dived straight down to her stomach at that, an uncomfortable feeling that Jiheon couldn’t describe or identify, causing her to lose concentration.
“Are you okay, oppa?” She finally asked after a couple of minutes spent just sneaking glances at him in between reading her own Biology notes.
Jeongin only hummed in response at first, and Jiheon would let it go – wanted to let it go – but for some reason, she couldn’t.
“Oppa—?” Under the table, she nudged his knee with her own. “Good luck with the CSAT,” she cheered softly – the exams were in two weeks, so she figured that’s what was bothering him.
He looked up again, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips when their eyes met. “Thanks.”
Just that was enough to make her beam. “Oppa, fighting!”
Jeongin laughed this time, and he leaned back, putting his pencil down. “I really shouldn’t be too bothered—I long made peace with the fact that high school is bound to be my peak, anyway.”
His words surprised her – Jeongin wasn’t normally so self-deprecating with his humor; what surprised her even more, however, was how her first instinct was to reach over and grab his hand – to pull him closer, maybe, and give him a sweet, encouraging kiss on the cheek,
“Jiheon—?” Jeongin’s voice cut through her thoughts, and she managed to shake herself back into focus; she gripped her pen tightly, curbing all foreign and unfamiliar impulses.
“Yeah—uh.” She smiled tightly, and made a show of glancing at her phone screen. “We should go now, oppa, or we’ll miss our bus.”
Jeongin had given her a weird look, but he simply nodded and started gathering his things, choosing not to prod – for which she was completely and utterly grateful for.
Would if she could, Jiheon would have loved to keep her brand new realisation to herself – except feelings were tricky and persistent, and there was a fizzy, bubbly component to them that had them consistently rising to the surface, threatening to spill over.
Jeongin started to fill her thoughts in a way that they never have before, and it made her self conscious. More than once, she found herself absentmindedly doodling his name in the margins of her notes when she should be revising her lessons, and so, for the sake of her own sanity, she decided to tell her closest friends.
“I knew it!” Yuna had squealed, happily clapping her hands in excitement before giving Jiheon a hug. “I fully support this development.”
Yujin, meanwhile, let out a shriek before a smug grin had settled on her features. “I told you so! Plot of a youth drama, am I right, or am I right?!”
To summarise: she had excitable and supportive friends, but neither of them were very much helpful with regards to the ins and outs of dealing with a colossal, life-altering crush.
She would concede to having been overdramatic, but she would also reason that she was seventeen and in high school, and anything unfamiliar felt incredibly life changing; so—
She ended up avoiding Jeongin completely.
It was easy at first; the two weeks following her realisation had third years busy with last minute cramming and study sessions for the college aptitude exam, and were therefore exempt from all extracurriculars.
“Hey, you’ve been a stranger!” Jeongin made an off-hand comment to her once, when they ran across each other in the hallway during lunch break. He was smiling good-naturedly, and it was clear that he was simply attempting their usual rapport, but Jiheon was taken aback.
“I’m on my way to the library!” She blurted out, pivoting on her heels even though it was likely very obvious that they’d both been headed to the cafeteria. She waved at him, a forced smile gracing her lips as she left him looking very confused.
“You’re silly, Baek Jiheon,” Yuna told her later that afternoon, concern mirrored in her expression even as she tried to reign in her laughter. Jiheon couldn’t really disagree.
(It was a little more complicated after the CSATs were over, but Jiheon managed – sort of. At least winter break came soon after.)
“Jiheon-ssi, can I walk you to the bus stop today?” Kang Taehyun, who is the overall representative for second years, asked her one day, after Jiheon presided over a Jeongin-less student council meeting. She’s surprised at his self-invite, but not completely averse to it either – she figured he just wanted to discuss council positions for the following year.
Sure enough, she was right, as Taehyun opened the conversation with a bid for the vice-presidency, under the assumption that Jiheon was aiming for the top spot. He wasn’t wrong, and the truth of the matter was that when she and Jeongin had still been frequently talking, they had both considered asking Taehyun run with her.
“That’s a relief,” Taehyun said, grinning when Jiheon easily accepted his proposal; they were quickly approaching the bus stop at this point, and it wasn’t lost on Jiheon, the way Taehyun had suddenly slowed his pace. “You know,” he continued, “we’ve been classmates for almost two years—and we’ve been in council together for half that time, but this is the most we’ve talked, one on one.”
Jiheon blinked – she hadn’t really considered this before, but she immediately knew that he was right. It was even stranger, if one considered that the two of them have consistently been vying for the top of their class ever since they were first years.
“Well, if we end up heading the student council next year, we’re going to end up sick and tired of each other,” Jiheon joked with a light elbow to his side.
“Like—you and Jeongin-sunbaenim?” Taehyun returned with a teasing tone; he was laughing, a sign that he was joking right back, but Jiheon, who was perhaps a bit too hypersensitive to any mention of Jeongin at the time, basically froze.
“What do you mean?”
“Oh—just that—” Taehyun laughed some more, “You started spending a lot of time together because of student council, right?”
“Oh—uh, yeah!”
Taehyun grinned. “Do you mind if I tell you a secret, Jiheon-ssi?”
He was so polite with her despite two years of being classmates, and it made her wonder if it was even possible for them to drop honorifics with ease at this point. She nodded and flashed a tentative smile at him in response. “Sure.”
“I used to have a crush on you—mostly because you had such a nice and vibrant type of energy.”
Jiheon’s brow furrowed, and even though there was no fluttering in her chest, or any kind of stirring in her stomach, her interest was admittedly piqued.
“I’m not telling you this with expectations of anything, don’t worry!” Taehyun assured her, hands gesturing sheepishly. “But—you were always someone who challenged me and inspired me just by being you—like a kind of ideal I can admire from afar. You probably didn’t realise this, but at some point, I considered you a rival in class.” He smiled, and shrugged. “But that only did wonders for my grades, and that was also why I wanted to become year rep, so I guess I want to thank you.”
“O-oh.” Jiheon felt an uncharacteristic wave of shyness pass through her. “You’re welcome.”
Taehyun grinned. “There was a time when I considered an earlier confession—when I wanted to get closer, but Kai told me something was going on with you and Jeongin-sunbaenim, and I wasn’t blind to it either—it’s silly now, I know! I should have tried harder to still become friends with you, and that’s on me, but—”
“Wait!” Jiheon quickly interrupted him, everything he said after he mentioned Jeongin again, lost in a haze. She held a palm up in front of him. “Kai-ssi said what?!”
Taehyun shrugged, and something tightened in Jiheon’s chest. It wasn’t the first time that people have made false assumptions about her and Jeongin, but this was the first time she had been confronted with them after her personal moment of enlightenment, and it was hitting her quite differently.
“Wait—were we wrong about that?” Taehyun looked genuinely surprised, and Jiheon had no idea how to answer.
“It’s—it isn’t like that,” she mumbled.
“How is it, then?”
There had been a long pause – it should have been so easy to deny, deny, deny, and yet—
“I guess that’s what I’m trying to figure out myself.”
“The only clear course of action is to confess through special handmade chocolates, and it’s perfect because Valentines’ Day is coming up!” Yujin sounded so sure and confident about her suggestion for a so-called solution, but Jiheon’s initial reaction was to simply stare at her friend, aghast.
“What—no! No way!” Jiheon shook her head vehemently; she was pretty sure that Jeongin was going to get a ton of those on the 14th, and the last thing Jiheon wanted was to be a Valentine statistic. Or a birthday one, because Jeongin was sure to get a number of gifts and confessions on that day as well.
“Why not?” It’s sweet—and it would be the perfect conclusion to your cute little love story,” Yujin continued to insist.
Jiheon grimaced. “No,” she said firmly. “I’m bad in the kitchen anyway—I’m just going to end up poisoning him if I go this route.”
And yet—
Day after Jeongin’s birthday, Jiheon found herself at the supermarket, right by the pink and red displays, shopping for discounted materials she would need to make homemade chocolate truffles.
(The day before, Jeongin had gone up to her and congratulated her for securing the council presidency for the following school year, and then he had proceeded to share with her one of his birthday cupcakes – no doubt given to him by one of his many admirers. It was sweet of him – as sweet as the pastry they shared – but Jiheon could barely get a word in, all tongue tied and flustered, and it was her discomfort at acting like this that had made her decide once and for all that she should at least do something about her annoying feelings.)
She kept checking her phone, looking at the list of ingredients needed for the recipe she had haphazardly searched up just earlier that day, and checking off items one by one as she loaded them in her shopping basket.
“Jiheonnie?”
She had been staring at her phone, in the middle of looking up the differences between all the types and brands of available chocolate displayed on the shelves, when a familiar voice called out her name. Upon glancing up, she was met with Roh Jisun, an older girl whose family lived in the apartment down the hall from hers.
“Ah, unnie!” She felt a light blush spread across her cheeks, because somehow, being spotted at the Valentine aisles embarrasses her.
“Doing a little shopping for the 14th?” Jisun asked, sounding calm, but with an identifiable teasing spark in her eyes.
“Uh…you could say that I guess.”
“This one’s the best,” Jisun said, picking out a pack of semi-sweet chocolate chips off the shelf and offering it to Jiheon. “I always get this,” she explained. “You weren’t sure which one to go with, right?”
Jiheon nodded and held out her basket so Jisun can place the item in it herself.
“Thank you,” she mumbled, and then, after a pause, “Are you making chocolates for someone too?”
Jisun laughed. “Well I’m shopping here, aren’t I?”
Right, Jiheon thought – that was a silly question. One thing she knew though, was that whoever was on the receiving end of Jisun’s chocolates was a lucky man. Up until a few years back, when she was still in grade school, and Jisun was in high school, she used to go over to her family’s apartment during summer days while her own parents were at work. Jisun used to make her lunch, but more than that, she always used to make delicious baked goods that Jiheon would taste test for her.
“Unnie, your boyfriend is very fortunate,” she commented.
Jisun laughed. “I’m making them for my Dad and my brother,” she clarified. “And okay—maybe also for a friend, who is a boy, but not exactly a boyfriend.”
“They’re all lucky, unnie!” Jiheon reaffirmed with a grin. “If you’re making them, they’re bound to be great.”
“Oh?” Jisun continued to laugh; and then she angled her head, looking as if she was considering a thought. “Do you want to come over and make chocolate truffles together, then?”
Jiheon perked up. She hadn’t even thought of that possibility but,
“Yes, please!” She quickly agreed.
At least this way, she would at least be able to present Jeongin with something edible.
With Jisun’s help, Jiheon was (miraculously, perhaps) able to prepare an assorted set of homemade chocolate truffles. They weren’t perfectly shaped, but they were – dare she even say it – delicious.
And then the 14th came along and the first thing Jiheon saw when she got to school was Jeongin standing near the lockers, the first year representative standing just two feet away from him, offering him a shiny red paper bag adorned with a bright yellow bow.
Jiheon wasn’t really surprised – she had expected as much, even. Still, her little brown box containing five misshapen truffles suddenly felt silly in comparison, and suddenly all she wanted to do was spend the rest of the day doing as she had been over the last couple of months – expertly avoiding Jeongin as much as she can.
(“If you’re not giving these to him, can I have a piece instead?” Yuna asked when Jiheon showed her the treats.
“I—” She immediately wanted to say no, because she made those chocolates with a purpose in mind – with a specific person in mind, but she caught herself with a wince, and, “Yeah, okay, sure,” she mumbled.
But Yuna just gave her a strange look and a shake of her head, before she herself placed the lid back on the tiny box. “I was just joking,” she said. “Give these to him, I’m sure he’d love them.”
“It’s too late now,” she said. “So someone might as well eat these.”
“Oh Jiheonnie,” Yuna chuckled, nudging her gently. “There’s always tomorrow.”)
There’s always tomorrow, Yuna said, except ‘tomorrow’ was the third years’ graduation day, and the only reason Jiheon was even going to school was so the student council could officially change hands.
“Jiheon! Jiheon-ah!” It was Jeongin who found her first once the commencement ceremony was over. Jiheon was just hanging out with Taehyun, and a few of the other incoming third years in the council, waiting for the outgoing third years to come find them so they can do their little handover ritual in the council’s meeting room.
He singled her out, despite being with a handful of other people, but she reasoned in her head that was just because Jeongin was president before, and she was president now.
But then, the next words out his mouth were, “Can we talk outside?” Their eyes met, Jiheon looking surprised, and then Jeongin gave the rest of the room a quick sweep. “We’ll come back right after, if that’s okay?”
So Jiheon grabbed her bag – the chocolates packed inside, probably starting to melt at that point, she thought – and she moved to follow Jeongin outside into the hallway.
(And now here we are.)
“I—like you too,” Jiheon finally answers, and just like that, it’s as if a huge weight has been lifted off his shoulders.
The funny thing, however is the way Jeongin himself lets out a huge, very audible sigh of relief – she can’t help herself, and that has Jiheon giggling uncontrollably.
“You find that funny, huh?” Jeongin, good-natured as usual.
“Well—” Jiheon hesitates at first, but the way that Jeongin is smiling at her, happy and relieved, draws out her usual level of confidence. “Yes. You look so—”
“So what?” Jeongin laughs along with her.
“So… like…” Jiheon keeps laughing, unable to explain that Jeongin’s relieved expression is easily comparable to the look of comfort normally associated when one finishes doing number two in the toilet, usually after days worth of constipation – it’s a horribly unromantic thought, so how could she just say any of it out loud? But the image has already crossed her head, and the more she tries to bury it, the louder her laughter gets.
“Baek Jiheon!” Jeongin calls out, a clear attempt at getting her full attention; he’s cautiously chuckling along but it’s obvious that he truly doesn’t get what’s so funny.
“Yang Jeongin!” Jiheon shoots back, unable to blame him for his confusion considering all the humor is in her own head.
“Oppa,” Jeongin playfully corrects her, eyes narrowed. “Yang Jeongin oppa.”
Jiheon snorts. “Yang Jeongin,” she repeats; she purposefully leaves the ‘oppa’ out, but there’s a softness in her tone. “I like you too,” she tells him once again, this time with more obvious warmth, sincerity, and most of all, conviction.
“Okay.” Jeongin nods, his dimples more visible than ever as his grin stretches across his face. “For a minute there, that seemed pretty touch and go!”
Jiheon purses her lips, trying not to smile too much, except Jeongin’s clear happiness is not just infectious – it’s flattering, and pretty soon her careful control is falling apart, and her own expression is perfectly mirroring Jeongin’s.
“Well—what now?” She asks.
“What do you mean what now?!” Jeongin half laughs, half gawks.
“What now!” Jiheon repeats; she’s nervous because she’s never been in this kind of situation before. She’s never had anyone confess feelings for her in the past, and she’s never really liked anyone as much as she likes Jeongin – that’s clear to her now, with how hot her face feels, and how loud and distracting the clamoring in her chest is.
“Uh—I guess we go back inside?” Jeongin says slowly, as if he’s unsure himself.
“Right.” Jiheon nods; she steps forward, moving past Jeongin so she can begin to head back down the hall, towards the direction of the room they’d exited just minutes earlier. Her cheeks feel even warmer from the embarrassment of maybe having expected more after a confession exchange.
But then before she can take another step, she feels Jeongin grab her hand, it’s her tone to let out a soft, relieved whimper. Jeongin falls into step next to her, and their fingers comfortably and securely thread together. When they step inside the student council room like this, their peers all let out loud whoops and cheers; Jiheon opens her mouth to tell them off, but nothing comes out – and she realises that she isn’t tongue tied because of embarrassment, but more so that she’s simply too happy to care about any of the joking and teasing.
So.
Yang Jeongin is completely Baek Jiheon’s type, it turns out – but that’s okay, because it’s just as much true the other way around.
(She gives him the half-melted chocolates much later, when it’s just the two of them, and they take the bus together – not because Jiheon has to get to cram school, or Jeongin to his part time job, but just because.
And when Jeongin gives Jiheon her first kiss, it’s short, it’s chaste, and it’s taste like the chocolate truffles she prepared for him herself.
Puberty makes everything complicated, she thinks, and she hates it, but she dare says it also has its perks.)
fin.