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School is important

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School is important. I have to remind myself by the minute on a morning that already seems to hold bad promises. It is a hunch. I had spared only one eye open to look out the window few hours earlier. If those dark clouds didn't hold gloom and heavy showers, I don't know what did.

It's been a week since I managed civility with the likes of Mingi. It's also been a week since I hitched an unforgettable ride with Jeong Yunho, bonded with Jeong Yunho, and got to see the side of Jeong Yunho I've only heard stories of. And indeed, true were the rumors to the very last one of 'em: he's fun to be with. What started as a night I so vicariously wished to end became one I prayed didn't.

Thankfully, it all didn't stop there. Yunho got my number; promised to call me. He didn't, but later on, I received a text just as I decided to close my eyes because my body begged for some time off. Texting up until the wee hours of the morning could only bring up a collective mental decision that we weren't awkward acquaintances any longer. Friends with Yunho actually had a nice ring to it. Too bad there was a drawback: Eunji. Her antennas sparked to life and now I make it a task to avoid her. The few times she caught me before I could've thought to react, Eunji once again broached, like every other time, about taking things serious with Yunho—a boy I can't help but take pity upon because he's dragged himself into my messed up life and has to deal with everything thrown his way. And he's seen through a week.

I'm impressed.

"Mingi's birthday is coming up," Jungha breaks the silence I was rather making the most of. Her voice instinctively makes my head jerk in her direction and I pretend like I've caught onto what she's just said. Then the mention of her boyfriend's name and something about a birthday brings me up to date.

"No doubt he expects a party," I scoff, rolling my eyes.

"I don't know what to get him." Jungha goes ahead and ignores my remark, her mind already preoccupied with what is unique enough to appeal to her lover on his special day. I frown, recalling how I've never seen her put as much effort to the gifts she gets me. For my last birthday, a scrunchy similar to one I already had. But it was a gift and I gave into the assumptions that she did put much thought into getting me a fricking hair parker even if she didn't.

Some best friend I've got.

"You've dated a guy for almost a year and you still don't know what to get him for his birthday?" I inquire, still a tad bit perturbed that she's fussing over something so trivial. I think it's supposed to be trivial but what does Yoon the Unromantic know.

Jungha's lips twist wryly, her voice laced with exasperation, and I know it's because she thinks I don't get her.

I don't.

"This isn't about what he would want, well, it is, but..." she tries to perforate her bottom lip with her right canine as she ponders, "what do you get a guy who has everything?"

I snort. "You make it sound like a bad thing. Book a couple's suite with his credit card, do what you both do best in there, save money. That's something I would put much thought into: saving money."

With the way she glowers at me, I know I'm not making any sense. But in my defense, she came to the wrong person. As unenthusiastic as I am about love, I could only offer the best relationship advice out there.

Jungha stays mute while she peers at me. Her gaze, long since softened; brows rise before they furrow, her bottom lip juts out in a pout, and I know what's coming next. Oh jeez, I think before donning my rehearsed concerned face with hopes that it keeps those crocodile tears in check. Jungha is not always manipulative but when she wants something, then no length is too great. Sadly, irrespective of how much awareness I have over the fact, it doesn't stop me from falling for it every damn time like an idiot.

How comforting it is to be reminded of just how much she has me wrapped about a single manicured finger—sarcasm.

Before a tear can slip, I reach out for her shoulder. A consoling hand squeezes lightly as my own brows draw together, mirroring her expression somewhat. "You," I state cryptically and she frowns. I wish I don't have to spell it out for her, but, what the hey? "Pinhead is lucky to have you. That is present enough for him."

"That's what skinflints say,"—le gasp!—"besides, we live in the twenty-first century, Yoon," Jungha explains, shrugging off my hand. "Men are way materialistic than those you catch on silver screen. And might I add that's just teevee."

"And women are much more dense," I mutter under my breath. It's unfortunate that Jungha's ears are sharp enough to hear me. She does not look happy.

"What?"

"I heart you." When I grin now, it's soaked in apprehension and discomfort. "And get him Jay Park's latest album, signed and given by the idol himself. I heard he's hosting a concert weeks from now. You could get him tickets and be his plus one."

That's all I can proffer but I think it's quite doable. No, it's beyond doable. It's ingenious!

"He likes Jay Park?" She asks, as clueless as I used to be during Math tests back in high school.

My eyes double in size at her inquiry. Mingi's obsession with Park Jaebeom is a factual thing—though he says otherwise, something about him simply admiring the man above that which is considered normal to the average human—and I only know how much I know of the young idol thanks to Mingi. The rare times we're not at each other's throats can be rather productive if I do say so myself.

I know he's an avid member of the fancafe. I know he has every album save for the one Jungha is about getting him the moment she's done playing ignoramus. I know it still pisses Mingi to think of how cruel fans were to him before he went solo, the reason he went solo.

Also, I know I've only become invested in Jay Park because Mingi initiated me at some point.

I ponder and pretend like my heart does not flutter at mere thoughts of my bestie's lover. I honestly don't know why I keep trying to deny it.

"That's a million-dollar doltish question, Jung."

"What?" She seems to take offense to my accusation. "I've never heard him listen to Jay Park. All Mingi ever listens to is that 'Mommae' dude."

My lips part in surprise, almost spanning past a minute before I string up words.

"But that's Jay Park."

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