1.3 | the art of cupidity ✓

03 | invidia

ONE OF THE PERKS TO THEIR LITTLE AGREEMENT, IT SEEMS, RESULTS IN SORA RESTING HER LEGS FOR A DAY WHILE ENJOYING RYLIN'S COOL AIR CONDITIONED, CLEAN CAR. They don't discuss the incident that happened last night (and she's thankful for it), because every time she thinks about how his lips were just millimeters from her own, she wants to roll up into a ball and cry. Which is ridiculous, because girls like Sora don't shed tears easily. The last time she sobbed, Claire had dropped a dumbbell on her toes, and it had hurt so much that a few tears had just happened to slip out.

Most students who know Sora call her cold, impassive, and a little bit brash, but it doesn't particularly bother her. Not when she'll never see these people again in two years once she graduates, and she decides she'll worry about her behavior when she enters the world of work. The exterior she has is surprisingly effective, and in her matchmaking business, she can't let her feelings get to her or else things will likely hit the fan.

Which is why she's so frustrated with Rylin Carter—the boy with the pretty beauty mark and the pretty earrings and the pretty devilish smile and the pretty hair. The boy who's lean and tall and likes black jeans and salty waffle fries late at night. The boy who has a voice like midnight and has many different versions of him: the soft one, the protective one, and the arrogant one. Sora can't figure out which one is actually real.

After all, she's only liked one boy in her life—Jonah Kim—and it was because he ran really fucking fast, and in middle school, that was the only thing that mattered to her. She doesn't even think he knew it either, because she'll always be the girl who's like the little sister he never had. Which is fine with her. It's better this way, and she'll gladly help him out whenever he stumbles into an issue.

He visits his aunt's diner frequently (everyone loves Sue, including Sora) and even though the owner complains that her nephew eats all of the food in her pantry, Sue always instructs her to give him extra portions and a box for takeout so that he'll have something to eat. And as she restocks the napkins on the bar counter, Jonah lowers his menu in front of her and grins, signature headband pushed up so that his hair flops over loosely instead.

Looking at her long-time friend, Sora realizes that Jonah and Rylin are two completely different kinds of beautiful: Jonah is more classic, with a sharp jawline and soft curves; Rylin, on the other hand, has a kind of edge and arrogance constantly lining the corners of his mouth, and it's unconventional, to say the least. Everything about that goddamn boy is unconventional to her.

"What's wrong, Sora?" Jonah asks, and she forgets momentarily that he's excellent at reading people—great boyfriend material. Sora immediately fixes her upset expression and scowls as Jonah laughs softly at her, tugging at her apron and fidgeting uneasily.

"Nothing."

A whistle sounds from his mouth. "You've always been terrible at lying to me."

"You're so annoying," she tells him with a smile. "I hate us."

She takes his order and sends it to the kitchen before writing his name on the corner, knowing that the chef will give him a double amount. Growing up, she'd been close neighbors with the Kim household, and Jonah, being two years older than her, walked with her to the swings and pushed her as long and as high as she'd wanted to go. He wiped her tears when she cried, picked her up when she fell, and always kept a bandage in his pocket just in case she hurt herself. When they were older and going through the odd transition of puberty and shifting between gossipy friend groups, they still hung out often, and Sora felt comfortable with him—more comfortable with him than anybody else. Her inevitable crush came and went, and now, she gives him advice regarding someone named Eloise Park.