Legend [YEONBIN] ✓

six ; yeonjun

Monday morning, Miss Kang quieted the class to start homeroom. As we settled, she didn’t launch into morning announcements as usual. Instead, she cleared her throat and glanced at something written in her notebook. “We have a new transfer student today: Choi Soobin.”

She gestured to the open door.

The boy moved quietly into the room. That was what I noticed first.

I half rose from my seat at the shock of seeing him. The dozens of times I’d thought of him over the weekend, I never imagined he’d do anything as boring as attend school. Let alone my school.

In the sunlight hia face was striking. All angles and planes, a straight nose, and dark eyes framed with lashes and curving brows. The boys and girls in the room sat up straighter, like they were all puppets with their strings suddenly pulled taut.

“Introduce yourself.” Miss Kang invited Soobin to step forward.

“My name is Choi Soobin.” He bowed. “My mother and I recently moved to Seoul. Please take good care of me.” It was the generic introduction of any new transfer student, but the way he said it held an edge of warning: Stay away from me. His eyes were hard as they swept over the room. I waited for them to find me. But he didn’t even pause when he saw me.

“I think I’m in love,” Huening Kai whispered.

“Stop drooling.” I didn’t spare my friend a glance. I was too busy staring at Soobin, who refused to meet my gaze.

“You may sit by Choi Beomgyu,” Miss Kang said.

Soobin took his seat, keeping his head down and thwarting my attempts to catch his eye.

Miss Kang finished the morning announcements as the bell rang. As soon as she left, the room erupted into chatter. While the teachers moved from classroom to classroom for each period, the students gained a few minutes of freedom to gossip and eat forbidden snacks previously hidden away.

I usually used the break for the latter, but this time I pushed back from my desk, stepping toward Soobin.

I was beat to the punch by Choi Lia.

“Transfer student,” Lia said. She was pretty in a traditional way: classic oval face, pert nose, and rosebud lips. Her straight hair perfectly styled, her pleated skirt perfectly pressed. She reminded me of a porcelain doll, if dolls had judgmental eyes and sharp tongues. “Where’d you transfer from?”

It took Soobin so long to answer, it seemed he intended to ignore the question. Finally, he said, “Jeollanam-do.”

“The whole province of South Jeolla?”

“Gwangju.” Another clipped answer.

“I have cousins in Gwangju.” Lia smiled, but it held no kindness. “You’re very prettily handsome. Who was your plastic surgeon?”

I rolled my eyes at the barb. Everyone knew that Lia had begged her parents for double-eyelid surgery; just because they denied her didn’t mean she was above plastic surgery. I saw Soobin’s hands clamp, two tight fists folded together. I wondered if he did that to save Lia from a well-deserved punch in the mouth.

“Do you need something, Lia-ya?” Beomgyu asked, and half the class stopped their conversations. Some settled in for the show.

Lia squirmed under Beomgyu’s stare. I didn’t usually find pleasure in other people’s discomfort, but I felt a grim sense of satisfaction as Lia’s eyes darted back and forth between Beomgyu and Soobin. She seemed torn between playing with her new target and preserving her own skin.