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I gaped at my mortal enemy—the pickles—with revulsion, and only managed to say, “I’ll try.” I took the burger from Mom’s hand and stepped out of the car, waving goodbye as she sped away.
Belching, I frowned at the burger, unwrapped it, and removed the pickles. After tossing them in the trash can, I rewrapped the sandwich and placed it in my bag, now satisfied. Hands free, I prepared my legs for a stairway hike to the classroom.
The path toward the school’s entrance had a staircase with over one hundred steps. Whoever made the school probably wanted the students to stay fit.
I trudged up, thinking positive, but by the time I made it halfway, I was short of breath. My lungs screamed for air. That didn’t usually happen, unless I paid attention to how many more steps were left.
So, fifty more?
Without a doubt, being single had its disadvantages. It made me too aware of the things I used to not even care about.
Up ahead, I noticed a figure heading in my direction, holding a book with two boys on the cover. It was Gray, trotting down the one hundred steps in a breeze.
I cursed and spun away, only to bump into another figure who had just walked into the school gate. Keith.
He narrowed his eyes at me, waiting for me to say something.
I opened my mouth but only stuttering came out. “K-keith, good to, uh, see you again!” I grinned, debating which path to take. Either I had to run and make it obvious I was avoiding Gray Yoo or pretend I was busy chit chatting with my rival, the boyfriend stealer.
Rainer’s words echoed in my head, and without thinking of anything else to say, I blurted out, “Are you and Cole dating?”
Keith’s eyes widened to mirror my own as I internally begged him to disprove my instincts.
Before he could say a word, someone behind me grabbed my wrist.
Gray Yoo.
I tried to yank my arm from him but to no avail.
“We need to talk,” Gray muttered, dragging me away, his khaki sling bag swinging from side to side.
Keith just stood there, eyeballing us but offering no help at all. Dragging my eyes away from him, it was impossible to ignore the middle fingers and glares of the girls hugging their binders, avidly watching Gray’s show.
“Hey, you, let go of me!” I yelped.
Gray marched along, his grip tight enough to keep me prisoner, but somehow it wasn’t painful. When we reached the corner of the hall, he set me free. “Listen, stop avoiding—”
“How many times do I have to tell you? Stop calling me a small bean!” I exploded.
“I didn’t call you that.”
“Not yet. You … are about to,” I predicted.
“Am … not,” he said as his dark, charcoal eyes bored into mine. “Small bean.”
“See?”
“W-what can I do?” he stammered. “Y-you’re small and y-your face looks like a bean. Every time I see you, I see a small bean.” Of course, thisguy was persistent as usual. What did I expect?
“Whatever,” I muttered. “Do you have any idea what you just did? You K-drama wrist-grabbed me.” Yep, that’s a term. “Only villains do that,” I added. In all honesty, almost every guy in Korean dramas couldn’t help but find themselves dragging every girl by the wrist, like it’s their nature, and Gray Yoo, clueless as he may be, shouldn’t be an exception. Even if his hold on me had been weirdly gentle.
“Sorry,” he apologized as if he understood me, furthering my soft spot for him.
Holy shit, I had one. So, I gave in. “It’s fine. What do you want from me?”
“I just wanted to return your book, but you’ve made it abundantly clear that you don’t want to see me.” He let out a heart-rending sigh. “You know I’m not that same little kid anymore, Aera. Stop avoiding me.”
“I’m not avoiding you,” I lied and snatched the book from him, hoping he hadn’t read its content and judged my reading taste—
