Chapter Text
Deep breaths, Rumi. Deep breaths.
Rumi kept repeating the words like a mantra as she knocked on the door to the teachers’ office. Her knuckles met the hard oak door twice— but she figured the knock wasn’t strong enough, so she knocked twice more.
She pushed the door open after hearing a dull “Come in.” from the inside.
The office looked the same as the last time she’d been here, which was merely hours ago when she'd handed over the assignments she’d gathered from other students. As expected, this year too, she was once again chosen as class president. After all, she was the best at her job among all her classmates, never being a minute late to a meeting and never slacking on an assignment. Mentioning the all-A grades wasn’t even necessary— everybody knew she was the best student in their department, en route to become the valedictorian of their graduating class.
So it was understandable why such a visit to the teachers’ office was out of the ordinary for Rumi. She’d done everything she'd needed to do that day— collected assignments, handed out test notes, filled in the attendance, everything. So there could only be two reasons why she had been called in today.
One: someone complained about her doing something right.
(Because, of course, she was never wrong.)
And two—
Him.
Namely, Jinu Kim, a.k.a, the newest transfer to their college, a.k.a. Mr. know-it-all, a.k.a. straight A’s hotshot that was the only person in their entire class that could get on her nerves. And she was right in suspecting him because he was sitting right next to their professor— who was the head of the whole department, mind you— when she walked into the office.
Their greeting was by the book by now: he smirked, she scowled. Though, it didn’t last long, as she had to look respectable in front of the person that could ruin her entire college career.
“Ah, Miss Kang! Come, come, sit down,” Professor Choi ushered her in. “We were waiting for you.”
We?
Rumi took a moment to glare at Jinu before turning back to her instructor. “Hi, Professor Choi. May I know the reason why you called upon me?”
Mr. Choi took a moment to fix his glasses before he spoke. “Right, right. Rumi Kang. Our to-be valedictorian of the department. The student that has aced every exam in my senior class so far.”
She looked down out of respect.
“You must know Jinu, the recent transfer to our institution.” He pointed to Jinu, who was still wearing that stupid smirk ever since she walked in through the door.
“Yes, I know Jinu.” Unfortunately, she didn’t add. “We’re—”
“We’re familiar.” Jinu talked over her.
“We’re acquaintances.” Rumi pressed on. After giving him a death glare, she turned to address Mr. Choi again. “Classmates. That’s it.”
Mr. Choi took a second to look between his two students, then fixed his glasses out of habit. “Well, it’s good that you know each other. Rumi, do you remember the Dean’s declaration at the beginning of the semester by chance?”
Rumi paused at the unexpected question, searching her mind. “The… the one about GPA’s and how it reflects on the board?”
Mr. Choi leaped out of his seat, scaring both Jinu and Rumi in the process. “Exactly! It was her saying— we need as many A’s as possible in the department!”
Rumi nodded silently, not having a single idea about where this conversation was going. “Yes, and?”
“That’s why, you, Rumi Kang—” He pointed to her, then to Jinu, “Will help Jinu Kim to become a straight A student!”
Rumi blinked once. Twice. Three times, just to be sure that the sight in front of her wasn’t real. But no— her 20/20 vision didn’t lie— Mr. Choi was pointing at her, and him. Her, and him.
Still, still, by some slim chance that he was referring to the ghost behind her and not actually her, Rumi looked around the room to see… no one.
…Fuck.
“Me?” She pointed at herself. “Helping him?”
Jinu waved at her poshly as Mr. Choi nodded affirmatively.
“Consider this your homework, Miss Kang. You help Jinu ace his exams, and I may end up forgetting the quiz where you had a B minus.”
Holy shit, Rumi clenched the fabric of her denim pants in vain as horror dawned upon her. He remembers the quiz.
And, worst of all, worse than having to tutor Jinu, of all people— he now knew that she had a B minus too.
“Wow. B minus, really?” He said right as they closed the door to the teachers’ office, playfully toying with the tutoring schedule in his hand. “What happened? You broke up with your boyfriend?”
“Don’t be silly.” She snatched the paper out of his hands. “I don’t lose my mental over boys. And I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Mhmm.” Jinu hummed as Rumi started walking. “Figures.”
Rumi rolled her eyes, trying to suppress her anger. Whatever. She knew Jinu would try to ragebait her into quitting this job— which was not a real job anyhow, as Jinu was already a good student— so she repeated the same mantra in her head.
Patience, Rumi. Deep breaths.
“Right.” She exhaled after calming down enough. “The schedule. I want you in the library between 5 and 7 p.m. every weekday after class.”
“Roger that,” He said lazily, then stepped closer as he craned his neck to look at her in the eyes. “Where else do you want me?”
Rumi slapped the schedule in his face for an answer. “Only in the library.”
Jinu let out a late “Ow.” as Rumi walked to the cafeteria, leaving him behind.
When you go through the pages of an ordinary thesaurus and end up on about page 125, you’ll likely see a word that starts with the letter L and ends with late.
The meaning will likely read like this: after the expected, proper, or usual time.
Rumi wasn’t an expert in English thesauruses or assessing definitions per se, but she didn’t need a dictionary to know that she was late as fuck to her tutoring session with Jinu. Her first one, at that.
In her defense, as she had no control over traffic, it didn’t happen intentionally. Even though she wished that she was heartless enough to leave Jinu waiting in the library by himself for hours, she just couldn’t do it. So, on the one day she didn’t have any classes on campus whatsoever, she drove to the library just to tutor him.
…Or to stand by his side as he yapped to get on his nerves. Whatever. She’d tutored a lot of people before throughout her college life, so the ordeal wasn't new to her— but she didn’t quite know how this particular one would go, especially because she was to arrive unfashionably late. She could already imagine the earful she would hear from Jinu once she arrived at the library.
On time is ten minutes early, she heard her late father’s words in her head as she drove slowly through the highway. It was a statement she'd lived by long after his passing, arriving at least ten, twenty, maybe thirty minutes early to a place she should be— apart from tonight.
Rumi glanced down at the watch strapped to her wrist: 5:35 p.m.
Perfect isn't B minus. Perfect never fails. Perfect isn't late.
The words lingered in the quiet between her breaths as her grip tightened on the steering wheel.
“You’re late.” Jinu said instead of greeting her as she sat next to him in the study space of the library.
“That’s how you say hi?” She asked, unbothered, unpacking her notebook and pencils on the table.
“That’s how you say sorry?” Jinu responded with the same tone.
He didn’t get an answer.
Instead, Rumi opened her notebook and started working on the assignment due tomorrow for Mr. Choi’s class. She was good at multitasking, and if Jinu was hellbent on wasting her time, she was adamant on using it for something good.
“...You’re doing homework.” Jinu stated after a while. It wasn’t a question per se, but Rumi nodded anyhow. “...When you should be tutoring me.”
She looked up from the page, bracing herself with a sigh.
“Look, you and I both know you don’t need a minute of my tutoring.” She waved the pen in her hand towards him accusatively. “You’re much better in Mr. Choi’s class than I am, and I know you didn’t receive anything past A minus.”
“You follow my grades?” He rested his cheek on the palm of his hand, looking at her with faux adoration.
“I’m class president. I follow everyone’s grades.” She leaned in, not shying away from his boldness.
Acknowledging her proximity with a twitch of his eye, he leaned in closer to her. “Which explains the reason why you decided to tutor me when you knew I had nothing to improve.”
“I was blackmailed.” She whispered.
“I don’t think you know the meaning of the word.” He murmured, his breath fanning across her cheek.
Rumi held her breath, confused as to why his closeness was making her heart beat faster.
“I could teach you what it means if you don’t get out of my face right now, Jinu.”
Even though the words left her mouth, they surprised her all the same. She basically threatened to blackmail Jinu— Jinu, the teacher’s pet!— and was standing so close to him in a public space. If any outsider were to look at them right now, they’d probably think that they were about to kiss.
As if such a notion could ever be entertained in any form or shape.
Perhaps realizing the absurdity of their situation, Jinu backed away slowly, never tearing his eyes from Rumi’s.
“If you like me, you can just say it.” He said in a teasing tone.
Rumi cackled at that. “What are you, twelve? I don’t like people.”
Jinu shrugged at that. “The red on your face suggests otherwise.”
...What?
Rumi’s hand flew up instinctively to touch her face— and true to Jinu’s word, her cheeks were burning up.
“It’s…” Rumi turned away, trying to find an excuse for the blush on her cheeks. “An allergic reaction to being next to you.”
Jinu smirked at that, looking away to his own notebook. “Whatever. Just… don’t like me.”
Rumi shook her head, a shiver running up her spine at the mere thought of liking Jinu.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”