|| Philophobia || Baek Kyung

Chapter - 4 If manners were human they would never be anywhere near Seulli High

The pencil spun through the air in a perfect, slow-motion infront of everyone's horrified eyes -at least in her mind-before it landed with a soft but very decisive thwack.

"Ow-!"

The sound snapped her out of her daze. Oh no. Oh no.

She turned around slowly, like maybe if she moved at half the speed of guilt, the consequences wouldn't catch her.

And there he was.
Baek Kyung.
One hand on his cheek, the other still holding his phone like nothing could possibly be more important, not even a sharp pencil attack from the girl sitting in front of him.

"You," he said flatly, his voice low enough that the teacher wouldn't hear-but sharp enough that it cut through her fake-innocent smile.

"Me?" she whispered back, eyes wide. "Nooo, couldn't be. The air must've just... thrown my pencil at you."

His eyebrow twitched. "You trying to kill me, or do you just have bad aim?"

"Neither. It's called saving you. From your nap. You're welcome."

"I wasn't asleep."

"Oh? Then what was that sound? Spiritual meditation?"

Baek Kyung's gaze dropped to the small, harmless pencil lying on his desk. He picked it up and turned it in his hand, like he was deciding whether to snap it in half or stab it into the desk.

"Don't throw things at me again," he said finally, voice quiet but with that edge-like he wasn't making a request, but a promise.

Something about the way he looked at her made her bristle, but also made her pulse kick up just a notch. Not that she'd ever admit that.

She scoffed. "Relax, I'm not wasting another pencil on you."

"Good," he muttered, leaning back and returning his focus to his phone. "Because next time, I might throw it back."

"Pfft. Like you'd have the guts," she said under her breath, turning back around.

But she could feel it-the weight of his stare on the back of her head, even as the teacher droned on. And for some reason, it was harder to focus on anything else.

---
Sam, for a 13-year-old writing her first book, this is way better than most people manage on their fifth.
You've got the humor, the sass, the pacing, and you nail that "chaotic main character energy" that Wattpad readers live for.

Here's your continuation of Part 3 from where I left off-with your plot intact, but expanded to give it more depth, punchy banter, and that "novel but still teen-friendly" feel.

---

The pencil incident was only the beginning.

By lunch break, the class had already decided that Yeona and Baek Kyung had "made up." Apparently, all it took was not throwing school supplies at each other for ten minutes straight to qualify as reconciliation in their eyes.

But the truth? Oh no. They weren't fine.
In fact, Yeona was currently running for her life.

And Baek Kyung was running for her life too , he was chasing her like a predator who'd just spotted an annoyingly fast prey. But fortunately his prey was an annoyingly fast runner

"Stop running!" he hollered, footsteps heavy behind her.

"I'm sorry but I'm too young to die!" she shot back without looking over her shoulder. "I forgot to marry my bed before coming to school-just let me go!"

Her sneakers squeaked against the polished floor as she rounded the corner. She was faster than him, and she knew it. Years of dodging her mother's lectures and sprinting out of trouble had made her an expert. Criminality in the blood, as she liked to call it. She could run circles around anyone-Baek Kyung included.

---

Sagak

Ugh. Yeona stared down at the monstrosity in front of her. The curry Aeil was "cooking" looked... purple. Purple, smelled vaguely like rotting cabbage, and was drowning in an unholy amount of vegetables. If freshly brewed poison had a visual form, it would look exactly like this.

Her group for the cooking class was a disaster waiting to happen: Dan Oh, Saemi, Soochul, and one boy she'd mentally nicknamed I-Don't-Have-A-Name-Nor-Do-I-Have-An-Expression-Nor-Do-I-Speak.

Soochul was busy filming everything, probably for his nonexistent YouTube channel. Saemi was running a comb through her hair like this was a salon. Dan Oh and No-Name Boy? Being disgustingly lovey-dovey, like a penguin and a giraffe who'd decided PDA was a competitive sport.

Everyone else cooed over how "cute" they looked together. Yeona, on the other hand, wanted to bleach her eyes.

---

Sagak

"Ahhh, I'm going to fail these midterms!" Saemi wailed dramatically.

"Me too," Soochul groaned, leaning in for a hug-only to get shoved away so hard he almost fell.

"Wackos," Yeona muttered, abandoning the group to hunt for actual edible food.

The room buzzed with whispers and excitement, which only made her frown. Something was clearly going on.

"Yo, get aside," she said, shoving a boy out of her way.

"Dang, girl, why so rude?" the boy scoffed, puffing his chest like he thought he was cool.

"Oh me?" Yeona tilted her head innocently. "I was just trying to act like your mother. After all, isn't that how she forced your father to marry her?"

A sharp intake of breath rippled through the crowd. She didn't feel bad-it wasn't even gossip, it was just the truth. Everyone knew the boy's rich family was infamous for their sharp-tongued matriarch.

Before he could respond, a voice boomed from across the room:

"Woah! A trip to *****! How exciting." Yeona's sarcasm dripped from every word. She wasn't impressed, and she didn't care who knew it.

Turning on her heel, she headed for the canteen, focused entirely on her mission for food.

Unfortunately, her single-mindedness had a price-because the person she slammed into wasn't just anyone.

It was Oh Namju.

He blinked, taken aback. "Eh? But Google said girls liked this place..."

"She isn't just a girl," Baek Kyung's voice came from somewhere to her left, low and amused. "She's a lunatic."

Yeona froze mid-step, a dangerous smirk pulling at her lips. "And you," she said without looking at him, "are still mad about a pencil."

---