01
People called me "high teen" at the age I was. A 17-year-old youth, just entering high school. But the dictionary defines "high teen" as the age of late teens. That meant I had no idea what kind of high teen I was. Happy high teen, sad high teen, angry high teen... There were many adjectives to describe my high teen years, but it was clear my high teen years weren't all that great. Unlike the thrill of web dramas, each day was incredibly tedious.
I stopped in front of the door. Beyond the creaking door, my classmates were chatting. But there were more than a few things that were different than usual. For some reason, everyone's faces were filled with anticipation, and they were all calling out the word "transfer student" in passing. Curious, I strained my ears to hear their conversation. But the mix of voices only made it a hum. Finally, I walked to my seat and hung my bag on the desk hook. My deskmate and friend of five years, Kim Taehyung, spoke with an excited tone.
“Hey! Why are you here now!!”
“I wasn’t late…?”
"That's not what I meant! Can't you see the classroom is upside down right now?"
“Oh, are you all talking about transfer students or something?”
“Yeah! According to the kids I saw in the teachers’ office, he’s really handsome!!”
“Yeah, yeah... I see.”
Kim Taehyung frowned at my lukewarm reaction. He seemed to think I'd react like everyone else. But inevitably, I wasn't interested in the opposite sex. More precisely, I wasn't interested in dating. I couldn't understand why everyone fantasized about relationships whenever they saw a successful guy. And now wasn't the time for dating. Oh, maybe because of my terrible grades in the first semester, I was even more apprehensive about dating. It was hard enough to just focus on my studies, so why would I date?
This is how I reflected on love again. Meanwhile, Kim Taehyung continued to speak. His expression, one that seemed utterly incomprehensible, was a bonus.
“No, you don’t even have expectations? I told you he looks like an actor.”
“Taehyung.”
"why?"
“Are you preparing for the September Mogo*?”
(Mock exam)*
“···Okay. I should stop talking.”
Kim Taehyung was at a loss for words. His dejected expression was so adorable that he stroked his hair. Soon after, the front door opened. An unfamiliar boy followed his homeroom teacher. It was the transfer student in question. Perhaps he hadn't received his uniform yet, he was still in his street clothes. From head to toe, he was all black. True to Kim Taehyung's words, that handsome face seemed to be dragging fashion by the collar. Otherwise, the already chattering classmates wouldn't have been without flaws.
"I'm sure you all know this, but I'm a new transfer student. I came from America, so my Korean isn't very good, so please help me out."
America? That was a bit unexpected. He seemed more mature and larger than other boys my age, so I figured it was genetics. I felt a strange connection. Perhaps it was because I'd lived abroad, albeit briefly. The homeroom teacher gestured for the transfer student to introduce himself. The transfer student, understanding the meaning, opened his mouth. He seemed quite shy.
“···.”
What is it? Are we just making eye contact?
“···Hi. I’m Jay. Nice to meet you.
The transfer student met my gaze until the very end. Perhaps because I didn't avoid his gaze, I felt like he was speaking only to me. A moment later, the classroom erupted in cheers, as if they were about to float away. Some clapped, others whistled, and others shouted. But I couldn't make a single gesture. My body remained motionless, as if entranced by the transfer student's gaze.
As the noises among the classmates began to diminish, the homeroom teacher looked around and said.
"Well, now we need to assign seats. Let's see... Who would be good?"
My homeroom teacher's words brought me back to my senses. And I immediately looked away. What is this feeling? I felt something strange just now. A question mark hung over my head, trying to sort out my confused thoughts. "Kim Yeoreum?" Suddenly, my name was heard, and I looked up. Everyone's eyes were on me. Judging by the few disappointed faces, I thought they'd chosen me to sit next to the transfer student.
"What are you thinking? No matter how many times I tell you, you won't listen? Anyway, since Yeoreum has lived abroad, I think she'll get along well with the transfer student."
“But teacher... my partner is Kim Taehyung.”
“Hmm, right.”
My homeroom teacher seemed to hesitate for a moment at my excuse. Then he looked at Kim Taehyung and said.
“Taehyung, please change seats. In return, I’ll give you the front seat you wanted.”
“Old story!”
Kim Taehyung responded positively without a moment's hesitation. I looked at him, wondering why he was acting so perceptive today. Then, Kim Taehyung gave me a nod, his mouth twisted into a grin as he tried to suppress his laughter. It was a nod to me, a nod to him. Damn it. Once again, the entire class's eyes were on me. If I stumbled again, it would be revealed that I didn't want to be paired with the transfer student. So I had to decline as naturally as possible. As I continued to ponder, my homeroom teacher, unable to bear to watch, spoke to me.
“Is there a problem?”
“I... I'm sorry, but I,”
“I want to do it. With you.”
?
A deep, low voice echoed through the classroom. I gaped at the transfer student, my mouth hanging open involuntarily. Just like before, the transfer student, who hadn't even stuttered, had now lifted the homeroom teacher's arm. It was a complete defeat for me. Emboldened by the transfer student's words, the homeroom teacher drew a line on the seating chart on the desk. I knew she'd definitely rewritten it as "Kim Yeoreum – Jeon Jungkook." I'd hoped the second semester wouldn't be a hassle. It was clear there was no God.
The transfer student slowly walked forward. Even for a brief moment, everyone's eyes were on him. And that gaze remained until he put his bag down. His face was filled with excitement as he pulled up a chair and sat down. But I, on the other hand, felt as if I were sitting on a bed of thorns, unable to keep my eyes still. Finally, it was the transfer student who met my gaze first.
“···Hi.”
I smelled a familiar soap scent.