Chapter Text
2
I manage to concentrate on the revision test that will determine the next two class representatives according to the two best grades. It has always been Sana and I, and I cannot let her down.
If I fail, she will probably guess something is wrong with me and start asking me questions. She is more intelligent than she looks, she just likes acting cute and playing dumb sometimes. And she is very sensitive to her friends’ mood swings and can tell when we are upset even before we know it ourselves.
Handing in the test relieves me, but also gives me less to think about and distract me.
The day goes by slowly and I tell myself to focus on what the teacher is saying, on taking good notes, already try to memorize some of the information that is being given to us. If my competition is Younghyun, I’d better start studying early…
There I go again. I can’t seem to get him out of my mind, even if he probably does not even remember my existence and has not looked at me once, even when I raise my hand to answer some question the teacher just asked. I am not a showoff, but I tend to feel uncomfortable when Mr. K asks something and the class just stays silent. I feel as if it is my responsibility to make the class look at least a little better. Not that anyone cares, anyways.
Thinking about him, I feel anxious. Will he talk to me? Can I talk to him? Does he hate me? He must hate me. No, he probably does not even remember me and I am just delusional believing I had any importance in his life at all. He probably just does not look at me just because there is nothing interesting to look at. That’s it.
He looks so different, so cool. I can hear the other girl’s whispers; it is not just me that thinks he looks good. He just does. He seems like the kind of guy that wears leather jackets and ripped jeans on the regular and can absolutely pull it off.
It is not that he was not cool before, when we were in middle school together, but he just did not look cool, not in a traditional way. Admittedly, he was kind of a nerdy kid, but so was I, even if I did better to hide it. He had the best grades and was really bad at sports. He was friends with the outcasts and liked spending his time writing poetry. Really good poetry for a kid his age.
He was kind to everyone, even when they were not that kind to him. We were both chosen as class representatives, so I started spending a little more time with him when the teacher asked us to stay behind and help.
I was shy, but he was really nice to talk to and soon enough we discovered we had many things in common. We both liked to read all kind of books, and he recommended me ones that I would have never read otherwise. I did try to lend him a few, but he seemed to have already read everything.
He also liked music, and told me about how he wanted to be able to play multiple instruments. I never told him, but I believed he could do anything he set his mind to.
At this point, you must have realized I deeply admired him. He was so smart, so kind, and I thought that made him so cool. I looked up to him, but I also liked him. I really enjoyed spending time with him, talking about books and music and pretending to be so educated and cultured. I believed he was so cool.
But me, I was not cool. I might have believed I was educated, but I was truly dumb.
He did not care about fitting in, but I did, at the time. Moreover, I would be never be caught talking to him. He was not exactly the kind of friend my “friends” wanted me to have. Not the kind of person they wanted to be associated with. It was an a-holes only club, I guess.
I spent my time trying to look good in front of the popular kids, avoiding him. I am sure he must have noticed, but he still talked to me as a friend when we were made to stay after class, or when everybody else had club activities, so I never changed my ways.
So our last day in middle school came and I had a little something prepared. I spent almost two weeks writing and rewriting a letter to him, my first love confession. I wanted to tell him he was the best and all the reasons why I liked being his friend. I wanted to let him know I really hoped we could see each other during the summer. I secretly hoped we were going to the same high school, but he had not told me where he was going and I was too scared to ask.
I remember that corny letter, which I hid under my desk until the bell rang. I remember the feeling of it in my shaky, clammy hands. I felt, anxious but hopeful, and a little excited. We got along so well after all!
I must have looked suspicious, or maybe I was more obvious than I thought.
-What do you have in your hands? - asked one of the girls, getting ready to make fun of me.
- Is that a love letter?
Jennie laughed, but she also looked mad at me. How dare I like someone without consulting her? Why did I not tell her? Well, I was not inclined to do so since I knew I could not really trust her.
I instinctively looked at Younghyun, maybe an act of reflex. I shouldn’t have.
-Don’t tell me you like Younghyun? - She totally noticed me freaking out and was not about to let it go. This was just too juicy. She had made it very clear “we” did not like anyone who was less than popular. And, really, she was the only one free to choose anyone she liked. The others just had to adapt and chose someone different.
The rest of the girls were looking at me, expecting an answer. Don’t be dumb, Azura. Know your place, Azura. You are one of us now. This is the status quo.
-Him? Why would I like such a nerd? - I said, even though I knew I was being stupid. Even though I knew it was not really worth it, they were not really worth it. Even when I knew, he had heard and he was looking, paying attention.
I regretted it immediately. Why did I do that? Who were these girls? It was the last day of school and I probably would not see them ever again. Had I always been so stupid?
-We know, Azu- one of them said- we were just joking, jeez…
The damage was already done. He had quickly left and I could not apologize, never mind giving him the letter. I would not be so shameless as to confess to him after saying such a nasty thing.
I did not have his phone number and I did not know who to ask, so our middle school experience ended like that and I have been regretting my life choices ever since.
I never saw him again, not until now.
I never saw those girls either.
I saved that letter in a little box under my bed and I looked at it from time to time. A not so friendly reminder not to be a piece of garbage ever again. And that’s when I decided to live my life as a normal human being and stop trying to fit in. I started high school, joined the soccer club and the rest is history.
I already liked soccer before, but I joined because I knew nobody really messed with the sporty kids and nobody cared about the soccer team particularly. People are always too busy looking at male teams or maybe the volleyball girls, who even though they seem to lose every other match, are all tall and look like models. Clearly hotter and more interesting than us.
I spent the rest of the day in a daze, just trying to follow the conversations my friends were having. They noticed I was kind of out, but were too excited about the new season to come to ask me.
I slept on it and decided he probably did not care about me back then, so he did not hate me. Everything is ok and I just have to keep living as I have been doing for the last two years, no big deal. Who cares what I did back then? What matters is that I have grown up and learnt from my mistakes.
I gave myself a little pep talk on the mirror. What would Jeong say?
“We got this! You’re Azura the soccer ace after all!”
Hm. That does not really help this matter.
I arrived a little later than usual and my friends were already in the classroom, talking to one of the boys, Jae to be more exact. We like Jae, he is on the male soccer team and he’s a funny guy. He gets on well with everybody and does not care at all about hierarchy, an all-around good person.
-Yo, Jeong, we’re looking good this season, aren’t we?
-We’re always looking good. - She laughs
-Well, not as good as me, the one and only soccer god. Call me Lionel Messi. - He flexes his non-existing muscles.
-Jae just thinks he is good because he was born in Argentina. - she tells me and Sana, while I put my things down on my desk.- You are a DEFENSE and you are just lucky you are so tall, that’s all you got.
-Whatever, Jeongs, you are just jealous. - He retaliates.
-You banter like a typical romcom couple- laughs Sana, knowing that scenario is the far from true.
-EW!!- Our friend is horrified and disgusted.
-No way! Jeongs is like a little brother to me! - His face is a reflection of Jeongyeon’s expression. They both seem to think the idea itself is sacrilege.
-We’re the same age, dumbass!!- She protests.
-That’s the only part in that statement that bothers you? - I can’t help but laugh.
I am so glad I have them. I am having so much fun I almost don’t notice Younghyun has been staring at us, maybe curious about who my friends are. He must be surprised; they are nothing like Jennie and the girls. Well, that is if he cares about me at all.
Maybe I am right. Maybe he doesn’t hate me. I mean, it’s been ages and we have both grown up. I must be the only one that’s worrying and getting worked up about it, overthinking every single blink of his eyes. I was stupid, thoughtless and selfish, but perhaps…
-Good morning, class! - Mr. K enters the classroom with a spring on his step. He is one of the few teachers that actually enjoy what they do and cares about his students and everybody loves that about him. He’s the kind that is always excited about giving good grades and devastated when giving bad news.
-I know you must be dying to know who the class representatives will be, so let’s just get over with it quickly!- the teacher announces with a big smile- It was a tough match, and I am proud to present you, in the first place, our newcomer Younghyun! And give it up for our close second place Miss Azura!-
The students lazily clap. No one really cares about being class representative, since it always means you have more work to do organizing seasonal activities and talking with the authorities.
-Wow, Brian, you beat Azura! She’s really smart, you know! - I hear someone say. It is funny how you can avoid hearing a lot of conversations, but you can always listen when people are talking about yourself. Us humans are truly self-centered people. Or is it some kind of survival instinct?
I admit I am anxious to hear his answer. And I am also proud that someone called me smart: even if that is the only thing people know about me, it’s still a very good thing. Now he might know I have grown and we might be on good terms again. Maybe…
-Well, she is not that smart if someone that just arrived to the country can beat her so easily. - He smiles and looks at me. He knew I was listening. He wanted me to listen.
Oh, never mind.
He definitely hates me.