(Jimin POV)
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"Why're you staring at him?"
Yoongi sipped his smoothie and twirled his straw, waiting for my response. The cafeteria buzzed around me and conversations scattered throughout the room like a ripple.
"I'm not," I returned my gaze to my pending homework sitting in front of me. It was due next period and I was sure my teacher wouldn't accept my excuse;
'I was talking for hours on the phone with someone who lives in the same city as me and I may or may not be attracted to him. Oh and not to mention I haven't even seen him, but that's besides the point because he was too cute for me to do my homework so fuck your homework, sir.'
"Yes. Yes you are, Jimin."
I ignored him and skimmed over the questions, trying to register them together. But as of lately, either I'd not remember or not be able to focus on them for an extended period of time.
Guidance counselors made frequent invitations for students to come down and see them. Teachers urged us seniors to target homework and university applications as main priorities. Parents just repeated the drill.
I lost myself somewhere along the way.
I tapped my pencil against my notebook lightly, gaze snaking slowly around the room automatically, searching for a particular boy. Junghyuk, I reminded myself. But it felt wrong to call him that since he never properly introduced himself to me.
A book was resting in one hand with the other resting against his chin. His lunch, as per usual, was poised in front of him, untouched. There were many times that I wanted to go to him and ask why he packs his lunch if he never eats it.
"See. You're doing it again." Yoongi pointed out.
I faced him, "so what?"
He blinked, eyeing the rest of our friends that were on their phones and talking, unaware of the conversation between Yoongi and I. He leaned in, black hair falling into his eyes swiftly. "Why?"
I shrugged, "he seems cool."
Yoongi scoffed, "I don't think anyone's even heard him talk. What's so cool about that?"
From across the room, I saw him collect his stuff and rise from the table. I knew where he'd be going now; the library.
"Where the fuck are you going? Finish your work!"
"I'll copy off you later."
I slung my backpack over my shoulder, nodding a farewell to my friends and exiting the cafeteria. I never really understood why I sat there, given that we're ignoring the fact that it's mostly me wanting to stare at him.
I trailed meters behind him softly, feeling audacious for practically stalking him. But was it really stalking if it was just on school grounds? I didn't waste time pondering on that.
My eyebrows creased when I saw him walk past the library instead.
He stuffed his hands in his pockets, footsteps quickening. Within few steps, he exited the building and into the autumn air.
A wet breeze hit my face when I stepped outside. It was humid as well and flocks of dead leaves swirled around my feet as the sky seeped mixes of lavenders and greys onto reflections of curtsying puddles.
This is definitely stalking, I thought.
As he walked further and further away, I tried to maintain my quiet distance and follow him. For a lean guy like him, he sure walked fast. His frame maintained a fair distance and his steps held the markings of a coordinated person.
