Chapter One

"When is he arriving?"

"Who?"

"Jaekuk."

"Excited, are we?"

"Not even close," Emily replied, shuffling around the kitchen. The two were hurrying to get ready for the school day. Emily filled her black and red backpack with school supplies, her mother doing the same to an embroidered, blue tote bag. Clarie placed a gradebook inside and walked over to the black fridge, opening it. She reached inside, grabbed Emily's matching lunch box, and tossed it to the girl. She caught it.

"Thursday," Clarie said, retrieving her own lunch box. 

"Thursday, as in in two days, Thursday?" Emily asked. Her mother looked taken aback, and took a moment to process Emily's confusing sentence. Finally, she nodded firmly. Clarie picked up her blue coffee mug off of the counter, and Emily grabbed her red water bottle, tucking it safely into the pocket of her backpack. 

"I expect you to be polite to him," her mother reminded. 

"I will," Emily confirmed. As the two walked out of their two-story cabin home, Emily looked up at her mother. "What are we even supposed to do together? Oh my gosh, are you trying to get me a boyfriend?"

"Heavens, no," her mother replied, ushering Emily into their white Sedan. Emily hopped rather quickly into the passenger's seat, setting her stuff down. "Well," her mother said as she let out a small grunt, setting her tote bag down in the back seat of the car. "You like that Korean-Pop stuff, don't you?"

Emily rolled her eyes. 

"That's a bit stereotypical, don't you think? To assume he likes K-Pop, I mean."

"You're quite one to talk, Emily."

-

Emily paced quietly down the halls, clutching the black straps to her backpack. Her lips were pressed in a thin line, and she avoided eye contact with anyone in the hallway. Her hands gathered inside of the over-sized grey sweatshirt she wore. The material gathered in the back over to pockets of her black jeans, and her black flats pressed firmly against the ground. 

People payed no attention to the quiet girl, but rather walked passed her, laughing and talking with their friends. Emily payed no mind as she approached her locker. She entered her combination, reciting the numbers in her mind twice just to make sure she knew it. 

45-18-7

Her locker opened immediately, and she hurriedly piled her belongings inside of it. She hung her backpack up on the hook and unzipped her backpack. Her hands fished inside of the bag, eventually pulling out a collection of books. She set them aside, and then she retrieved her circular pencil case. Emily's dark eyes scanned her backpack, finally removing her waterbottle. She clutched it tightly, her eyebrows furrowing together as she thought of her schedule. With a nod and a sudden burst of memory, Emily grabbed her Mathematics binder and textbook, piling her pencil case on top of it soon afterwards. 

Emily loudly shut her locker, and her face immediately flushed as people stopped momentarily to see, and then continued on. Emily shook her head, rolling her eyes at herself. She turned sharply, setting off on her way to hallway five, classroom fourty-one. 

She bit her lip as she walked, avoiding everyone. She didn't like people much, other than her online friends from her penpal and writing websites (that her mother approved of, obviously). Emily clicked her tongue to soothe her pounding heart, the nerves building up inside of her. She scanned the walls, looking for the familiar picture of the teacher on the entrance of the classroom. Upon finding it, Emily sighed in relief and stepped inside, shutting the light brown door behind her. As per usual, she was the first student to arrive. The seats were completely empty, so she rushed to the front, as if someone else might magically appear and take the seat from her. 

"Emily," the teacher greeted. Emily gave a tight smile to her mother, sitting down silently. She opened her binder, separated the rings, and removed her moleskin notebook. Students were beginning to file in, so she got a black gel pen and a pencil ready.

Her mother walked to the front of the classroom, a bright smile on her face. Clarie lifted her hand, signaling for the students to sit down, to which they unhappily obliged. Nonetheless, Clarie's smile did not falter.

"Good morning, students!" She cheerily exclaimed, turning to the whiteboard. She picked up a black dry-erase marker and began to re-write her name.

Ms. Darren

Was quickly and neatly scrawled across the top right corner. Emily opened her notebook and wrote down the date in the first empty page she could find in the chronological order her notes were organized by. The other students followed, a bit slower and less-confident than Emily. But that was just Emily; confident in classroom, but rarely outside of it. 

"Today we will continue with AP Algebra. Now, can anyone tell me their summary of yesterday's lesson?"

Emily's left hand immediately flew up and into the air.