High Teen Society

Chapter 2: The Art Room

Yang Jungwon was wearing a Taekwondo uniform, like he had just come from a tournament. He turned to me and smiled as he always did.

Years of memories came flooding back in a split second. Walking home from school together, catching fireflies during summer, eating dinner at each other's houses after playing computer games for hours, and an image of him hugging me very tightly the night he told me he was going away. His smile remained the same through it all.

Then, to someone behind me, he spoke, "Hyung, bring him to the art room. I'll follow."

Before I could open my mouth to speak somebody scooped me up from the ground but I couldn't see who it was. I was much too tired, shocked, humiliated and defeated to do anything so I didn't fight. I laid my head on my captor's chest, and let him take me far away from there.

He effortlessly climbed three flights of stairs while carrying me. I didn't hear so much as a groan or a sigh of exhaustion. I was worried that I might be ruining his uniform. And then I thought about my own uniform and wanted to bawl.

We entered an art room. But really, the better way to describe it was some rich dude's attic full of weird and exotic sculptures and paintings. There were couches and bean bags at every corner. There was a big billiards table at the center of the room, a refrigerator by the door, and a mini basketball hoop next to it. The boy carrying me put me down gently. The first thing I did was to turn around and look at him. My captor was tall, with unkempt jet-black hair. He had very sharp features, apart from his big, doe eyes, the only gentle part of his profile. He grinned at me from ear to ear, and what followed threw me for a loop.

"Take off your clothes," he told me.

"Excuse me?"

"Can you do it by yourself or should I assist you?" He asked, one of his hands already grappling the buttons of my uniform.

"Um, you can back up a little!" I propped both of my hands before me to put some distance between us as I shuffled backwards.

The boy burst into laughter at my reaction. "I'm not going to assault you. We need to wash your uniform, you see." He brought out an purple NBA t-shirt. "You can wear this in the meantime."

"H-How about your clothes?" I asked in concern. "I might've put some chicken broth on it too while you were carrying me."

"Heeseung hyung plays for the basketball team so he always has an extra uniform on him," another boy said, coming out from another door in the room. The boy had a small, tanned, handsome face and a jawline carved sharper than Ni-ki's. "Anyway, who is this? One of your little flings again?" He asked.

The Heeseung guy explained to him. And as soon as he finished talking, the tanned boy started dialing on his phone. The person on the other end picked up after five rings. "Hey, Chaewon. I got a stain on my uniform in Chemistry class. Can you come by quickly to drop off a new set? Sweet. Thank you." He put his phone away and turned to us. "I had one of Mom's assistants deliver my school uniform. They'll be here in 15, so don't let him wear that abominable shirt."

"What's wrong with my shirt?" Heeseung asked sulkily.

Just then the art room door swung open, and Jungwon stepped inside, carrying his bodybag. "I had someone take the guy to the infirmary first because his nose started bleeding. It's only a matter of time before somebody tells the principal and we get summoned to his office." He said.

"What's gonna happen to us?" I asked worriedly.

"Probably detention," Jungwon said simply. "But if the guy's family presses charges, then that's an entirely different story."