Legend [YEONBIN] ✓

eleven ; yeonjun

If I expected Soobin to act differently toward me at school, I was wrong. He ignored me all morning.

It was an uneventful day, if you didn’t count the many times I was distracted by the mere presence of the gumiho. He didn’t acknowledge our conversation from the night before. I found myself wondering whether he’d forgotten all about it. Then I realized that I was acting the same way a lovesick fool would and decided it best to carry on as I normally would, which meant napping through English class and skipping out to play video games. But I’d continued to sit watching the back of Soobin’s head as he scratched out furious notes.

“Don’t you think quiet boys are so cool?” Huening mused at lunch.

I glanced over to see what my friend was staring at. I shouldn’t have bothered. Huening was looking at a lone Soobin, sitting in the corner of the lunchroom and resolutely ignoring all the students who tried to approach him. Well, at least I wasn’t the only one he wouldn’t talk to.

If loneliness were a flavor, I could taste Soobin’s like a bitter aftertaste that sat on my tongue. It wasn’t just that he refused to engage other students in conversation; it was the way his shoulders hunched. How his face pinched and his hands clenched. As if the very act of socializing caused him physical pain.

After school, Huening abandoned me for the new afterschool academy his father had signed him up for. Which meant no distracting video games to help me ignore my worries. So I leaned against the glass of the bus shelter and pulled out a pair of headphones while I debated just going to the PC room alone. I had a good view of the school gates and recognized Soobin’s smooth gait as he exited. Pretending to fiddle with my phone, I watched him slow approach to the bus shelter. I pinpointed the moment he recognized me among the students waiting by the pause in his step. Then he continued forward and took a seat on the bench, never acknowledging my presence.

I let my head rest against the glass and watched him out of the corner of my eye. He sat staring straight ahead. I didn’t know why it looked so odd until I realized everyone had their eyes glued to their phones. Everyone except Soobin and a group of students chattering at the other end of the bus stop.

“I heard he got kicked out of his last school,” said a boy short enough to look like he was still a first year. He had a sprinkle of freckles on an upturned nose and a pointed chin. He reminded me of devious elves from my halmeoni’s stories.

The group shot dagger glances at Soobin. Their vitriol seemed overblown. Soobin had only been at our school for two days. What could he have done to warrant such hatred?

“I heard he got kicked out of the last three schools,” said a girl as he sucked on a lollipop, clicking it against her teeth as she spoke. I recognized them as friends of Choi Lia, a crew that used intimidation and rumors to maintain their popularity. Soobin slumped low in his seat, as if he’d become invisible if he were small enough.

“I heard that’s not even his real face.” The girl had a slight lisp from the large braces decorating her teeth. They made her lips puff out and gave her a disposition more sour than the cherry lollipop she sucked on. “He definitely got plastic surgery.”

“You’re totally right. I can see the surgery scar,” said the boy.

Fed up, I pulled my headphones from my ears and held them out to Soobin.

When he only stared at them, I pushed them into his ears myself. He jerked back at the sudden contact, but I persisted until he wore the earbuds.

Soobin looked up, perplexed.

I gave him a grin and a shrug by way of explanation. Then went back to leaning against the bus shelter.

He lowered his head, but he kept the headphones in.