Dork.

first.

Seoul, South Korea
15.5° C

Sunhee POV.

I look in the mirror, just another Monday in school, it's October now and I'm a senior. Meaning I don't have to follow the full dress code anymore. I wear the basic black pleated skirt with two safety pins pinned on the side rim because you never know when you'll need something sharp. I wear the basic white short sleeve button up under a large blank pastel yellow sweatshirt, going all the way half down my skirt.

I put my dark brown long hair in a messy bun, light sweet makeup, grunge earrings, a small delicate butterfly necklace, and iconic platform black combat boots.

Yep. If you ask my what my style is- I wouldn't be able to answer. I wear what I want or whatever is in my closet, I'm not goth, and I'm not soft. There's your answer.

My mother wears a tired expression when I come down the stairs, as if my indecisive clothing gives her a headache. We don't even bother saying goodbye to each other as she leaves the house for work.

And an hour later I walk to school.

I get through school. The bell rings and I start walking off campus. I hope you got a nice taste of what my everyday life is like. Quiet, uneventful, friendless, boring. But it's better this way.

Oh but plot twist, I stop by the school gates because my mother herself is standing there. Wearing her usual blazer and tight bun, what a CEO must, and she stops me. Without a word she guides me to a different building on campus and we take the stairs to one of the middle floors, my clunky boots pounding with each step.

"I wish you wouldn't wear those" my mother comments. I don't respond, as usual. What does she expect me to say? Why can't I wear what I want?

Finally we emerge from the stairs to one of the floors, and my mother stops walking.

"Sunhee you won't talk to me, you haven't ever since your father left. I haven't seen you talk to anyone in fact. You don't even use your phone much, y-you just stare out the window of yours. It's a bit scary for me as your mother. This will help. I promise." My mother says, as we pause in front of the door labeled: Peer First Responders. (Aka child therapists they trust to give valuable advice because they signed a waiver).

I say Tch in my head, because I rarely say things out loud to her. I love how she brought me here with no warning.

My mother just sighs, she opens the door slightly, making no contact with me. Sometimes I think she's a bit afraid of me. Like I'm some sort of unknown creature. But I don't blame her.

The door swings open and I peek into the room. Typical therapist room, two couches facing opposite each other, a large plant in the corner, a coffee table with inspirational books, and a few bookshelves. And of course large clear windows with blinds on it so everything is "confidential". But when I look who the unlucky person who has to deal with me is- my breath hitches.

The boy has ash brown hair styled with the side of his forehead showing through his bangs. He has sharp features, catlike eyes, upturned lips, and a surprisingly sharp jawline. He sits relaxed on the couch facing me- surprisingly not manspreading unnecessarily, with his hands folded politely in his lap. His style is interesting, almost like grunge but not quite, almost like me. But this guy certainly makes it his own style, a tight black turtleneck under an un bottomed uniform white shirt, ripped dark grayish jeans with a chain, and light brown combat boots.

I know I know, I'm a freak- I analyze people way too much get over it. Anyways if you're thinking my breath hitched because he's handsome- you're wrong. He's a boy. Just when will my mother get the hint? Oh right- never. She only wants my mental health to get better so she can speak out about "how she helped her child  recover while simultaneously starting her own mega business".

I glance to my right where my mom was standing, but she's no where to be seen. Typical.

I sigh, she really said, lemme just drop my child at this amateur therapist office before work so I won't have to deal with her  after schools anymore.

The boy clears his throat and says, "come in!" I realize he's Been observing me this whole time.

Reluctantly- since I have no escape- I step into the chilly office with a clunk of my black combat boots.

I close the door slowly behind me, instinctively trying to close it silently.

I walk to the other couch facing him, he gets up to shake my hand but I'm already sitting down so he just sits back down awkwardly. This is going to be a long session.

"My name is Kevin Moon and you're Sunhee Lee?" The boy says, holding his clipboard. (If the last name sounds familiar you might have heard it, my brother, Hyunjae Lee is a recent upcoming tennis player and chicken sponsor in America. the dude left me in Korea to go pursue his dream. But I'm happy for him. He left me with my mom and ex dad, whom I'll get into later)

I nod, inside my heart is pounding, my chest feels heavy and palms sweaty. But I have to keep a cold exterior despite being completely anxious inside.

Oh right. Let me introduce myself to you. I'm Lee Sunhee- and you might be wondering why I'm so nervous and weird. There's no easy way to say this so brace yourself... I'm afraid of boys.