Kissing Booth (김남준)

둘

Even after a long weekend of homework and studying, I couldn't keep my mind off of that Namjoon guy I kissed. Speaking of that kiss, it stood out like a sore thumb compared to all the others. He must've kissed a lot of girls since there's no way he could've left me wanting more without prior experience.

Y/N, you pervert! He called you a dumbass, remember?

Oh, yeah. I forgot about that. What goes on in his mind when he pays to kiss an average high school teen, but acts like a complete jerk afterwards? Ugh, hot boys and their attitudes. It's an enigma waiting to be solved by some very brave soul, and I wish I could confidently say that soul would be me.

I guess Namjoon was right.

I'm a dumbass for not realising that he called me a dumbass.

"Y/N! Your breakfast is getting cold!" My mom shouts.

"I-I'll be down in a minute!" I shout back, mentally face palming at how I was staring into my mirror for the past few minutes while I was already ready.

»»-------------¤-------------««

"Welcome back, students. I hope you all enjoyed your weekend," my teacher says. The truth is: I don't know if I enjoyed it or not.

"New unit, new curriculum. Mrs. Lee's engineering class and our physics class will be working together for the rest of the unit."

Are we going to have to create a robot or something? The last unit had so much math that my head span in circles like a hyper rat on a hamster wheel. If we have to make a robot this unit, my doctor would have to diagnose me with head-spinning equations disease.

"Her students should be arriving any minute now," he said.

As if his words were her class's cue line, a group of students came in and bowed respectively. One thing caught my attention, and it wasn't the students bowing so forward that they might as well be doing the sun salutation.

No.

It was a section of silver hair.

On a living person's head.