"Youu.. think you're soo great.. just because Yeonjun loves you more than me?"
The body of Yeonjun's girlfriend tensed up beside him, bringing it to his attention that a few people around them had abandoned their previous conversations to eavesdrop...
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Hyewon POV:
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me. I will make you pay for stealing Yeonjun from me."
I looked at Haru confusedly, feeling like I had just been asked a question on a subject I don't take.
But I had just left class. So why did the confusion continue?
I took a step away from the classroom door after feeling a few nudges from rushed students, getting out from between my classmates and the probably studious weekend that awaited them. Haru stepped along with me, her lack of a backpack or any books hinting at the possibility that arguing with me was some sort of priority for her.
She had her arms crossed in front of her chest, glaring daggers right at me without any sign of shame or wavering in her self-confidence.
Truthfully, it was a little unsettling to be confronted with such intensity and lack of stumble.
"I don't know what you're talking about. He's your boyfriend, isn't he?"
Her eyes grew sharper yet after my question, her tongue poking the inside of her cheek slightly. Her head slanted to the side gently, her stare unchanging in intensity.
"I don't know what you think you're playing at, but you're not fooling me, slut."
"You think you're the first to call me that?"
"Ever wonder why I'm not?"
I shifted my gaze irritatedly, perfectly aware of the deep breath I pulled through my teeth and the pressure in my jaw as I clenched it.
For some strange reason, as much as I hated being called a slut, I was more ticked off by the complete lack of originality of Haru's words.
Why she wasn't the first person to talk to me about Yeonjun, I didn't know in the slightest. It had been a good while since the drunken confession at the party, but the topic was suddenly resurfacing.
At least it made more sense than hearing the name of a random student I've never met - or teacher.
"Look, Haru, I don't know what's happening with you and Yeonjun, but it had nothing to do with me."
I tried to portray genuity in my eyes as I looked at Haru, but it was probably overruled by the sheer irritation that threatened to make itself obvious. Whatever she saw, she didn't seem convinced in the slightest, a disbelieving scoff escaping her lips as she looked me up and down menacingly.
She stepped closer, the pure hatred in her eyes triggering the same feeling that I got just before that girl cut my leg in the bathroom a while back. It always pulled my stomach into a knot when I saw the unmistakable glint of loathing in the stares of people who barely knew me.
Her voice lowered to an icy whisper, her breath hitting my face in choppy gusts of mint-scented wind.
"You have anorexia. You don't have anorexia. It doesn't matter to me. If I see you talking to Yeonjun again, I'll tell the whole school that more food comes out of your mouth than your asshole."
Should I have been used to it by then? I'm not sure. But whether it was because of the sharp inclusion of profanity, or the slip of the fact that I knew I wasn't bulimic, Haru's words scared me. Scared me to the extent that I considered simply agreeing with whatever she was commanding and leaving the situation instead of staying and trying to figure out what the hell she was talking about.
Despite the fact that I knew she had zero proof to back up her rumours, something about the way her blazing stare struck into my eyes like lightning gave the impression that she would do everything in her power to make sure that everyone she told believed her.
=
Yeonjun POV:
The satisfying feeling of a Friday didn't feel as satisfactory as it usually did, mostly feeling offput by the struggle I went through trying to find Hyewon.
Even though I had gotten used to - and even numb to - the feeling of extra books in my bag during finals, I couldn't help but feel especially aware of the added weight on my back, knowing I needed to get it to Hyewon as soon as possible.
The feeling didn't leave when I dropped my bag on the ground of Juyoung's bedroom floor, starting as the bottom layer of a sedimentary pile, followed by Jeonghan's jacket and bag.
The sense of unease managed to get even worse when the book glimpsed at me as I pulled out the textbooks and notes I planned to study from.
Plopping down on Juyoung's bed and flicking the textbook open mindlessly, I glanced up at Juyoung, contemplating on asking about Hyewon.
Jeonghan dropped his books to the ground with loud force, laying down beside them as he sighed deeply. Not even glancing at the notes open in front of him, he spoke to Juyoung; possibly just to procrastinate for a few seconds longer.
"Where's Hyewon? Did she even come home?"
I ignored the irritation that ignited when I heard him say her name, instead looking to Juyoung as well and awaiting his reply. He appeared to think about it, probably not having noticed her absence until it was pointed out.
"She didn't come home with us.. were her shoes by the door? She's probably just hanging out with Semi or something."
Juyoung dismissed the subject pretty quickly, moving on with a change of topic with a nonchalant shrug and slant of his lips.
He then proceeded to talk about something that happened at the library with some girl; I couldn't have been bothered to pay too much attention with my mind easily being pulled to the topic of Hyewon's whereabouts.
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