Fear Me P.JM

Chapter Two: Park Jimin?

I've been standing in the doorway of my classroom for far too long for it to be considered normal. It officially turned awkward and yet all I can think about is how there's a beautiful stranger sitting in a desk next to mine.

"Nikito."

I turn around and breathe easier. It's Abna, my good friend.

"Woah, who's pretty boy?" she asks, catching sight of him.

"I don't know." I look at her, pleading. "change seats with me."

Abna grins and taps my cheek playfully. "Of course I'd love to. Did I ever mention how much I adore your weird little phobia?"

"See? It's useful to someone," I say, making my way to her desk at the front-right corner of the classroom. "And Raya said I needed help. Please."

"Don't get cocky, babe," Abna smirks. "You still do."

We both take a quick look at the analog clock above the whiteboard. It's 7:59. Abna heads to my desk as the clock ticks 8:00. In my school we don't have bells to signal when classes begin or end. It's supposed to teach us responsibility...

Our teacher, Mrs. Elk, strides into the room-and honestly, the name suits her. She's a rather large woman (no offense meant, I swear), but I think I've earned the right to say so; I'm pretty sure she wears two belts. Mrs. Elk is kind at heart, but she's a stickler for rules and all things morally upright. Which is why, in about fifteen minutes, I'll likely be marched right back to my seat.

But hey-until then, that's fifteen glorious minutes away from the beautiful boy.

"It seems," Mrs. Elk announces, checking her roster, "we have a new student in today. Ah, yes. Park Jimin?"

Jimin? Never heard a asian name like that name before.

"Would you like to introduce yourself to the class?"

"Sure."

I hunch my shoulders and grimace. His voice was smooth

I hear a chair push out slowly. I tell myself not to look, but curiosity gets the best of me and I turn my head around.

My head screams. He is indefinably good-looking...and beautiful. I feel my eyes widen and I stare.

"My name is Park Jimin. I was born in south Korea. I moved to America in hopes that I can continue my schooling at a university here."

Jimin looks around the room and smiles.

"Are you secretly a Kpop idol?" Abna asks before he gets a chance to sit down.

All the girls in class seem to be mesmerized by him. Including me...but in a l different way.

Jimin is surprised by Abna's boldness. "Ehm...no."
There are whispers of awe around the room.

Jimin sits back down and I stare at him, not blinking. His skin looks so incredibly smooth. I wonder what moisturizer he uses. His eyes are innocent and pretty and his nose is thin but sculpted just right. He has full lips and his hai-

"Nikito." Mrs. Elk's voice cuts through my thoughts like a whip. I spin around, instantly alert.

"Hi!" I greet her. Several people laugh in the room.

Mrs. Elk smiles. "Hello. Was there a problem with your previous seating arrangement?"

"Um..." Well, besides the fact that the very living manifestation of my phobia is sitting in the same room as me? "No?"

"Good then," says Mrs. Elk. "Why don't you and Abna go back to your correct seats then?"

"Wait!" I call out. "I-I have been having trouble seeing the board lately and so I asked Abna to switch seats with me."

Mrs. Elk sighs and shakes her head. "You should have come up to me after class a long time ago. This would explain your poor performance on exams."

I nod. Yeah, that's why I've been getting C's on my tests. I can't see. Maybe I can tell her I'm deaf too...no, wait, partially deaf. Apparently, reading cooking recipes late into the night is not a good enough excuse. By the way, that's my passion.

Cooking. Baking. Working with food and creating art. There's something about being able to use only your hands and raw ingredients that excites me. I was never very good at chemistry, but whatever chemical process that took place in transforming the taste in food through cooking, I was fascina-

"Huh?" I glance to my left-and there he is. Jimin. Radiating pure, beautiful brilliance like some kind of angelic lightbulb. "EH!" I yelp, jerking back so fast I tip right out of my chair.

There's a loud crash, and the next thing I know, two people are helping me up, asking if I'm okay. "Yeah, yeah-I'm good," I mumble... until I notice one of the hands gripping my arm belongs to Jimin.

I turn to look at him. He's smiling.

I freeze. Totally paralyzed, just staring at his face like a deer in the world's most attractive headlights. Until...

"GAH!" I yell abruptly.

Jimin's eyes shoot wide and he lets go of my arm.

My classmates are staring at me as I pick up my chair and sit down. So, everyone thinks I'm crazy now. I probably am a little. You have no idea the chaos that is taking place in my mind with this pretty boy next to me.

I turn to him, a little angry. "Why...why are you sitting there?"

Jimin turns and I bite my lip.

"I have trouble seeing the board just as you do it appears." He smiles and I stare at him again.

I force my head to turn straight to the front of the class, but the rest of the period my eyes are like balls bouncing back and forth, looking left at him out of my peripheral vision, then right again to the front. Then left. Then right. Left. Right. Left. Right.

By the time our first break for homeroom comes, I have an intense headache from trying to look left without turning my head. I hate this. But I can't help it.

"Are you okay?" I hear a male voice say. No Jimin.

I turn and look at him. "I'm fii..." He's standing up and leaning over me. I can feel the 2nd stage of my phobia coming on. I never finish my sentence and I'm simply staring at him. Seconds go by.

"Um..?" Jimin asks trying to break the silence. He straightens up. "Maybe you should go to the nurse's office?"

I'm still staring, speechless. His bleached blonde hair falls into his eyes and he blinks. Uh oh. I feel it coming. Stage 3. Disgust.

finally I blink.

Jimin's hand is reaching toward me.

"MOVE! MOVE!" I yell leaping out of my seat and I bolt out of the classroom.