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“Calm your tits, girl,” I said flatly. I shouldn’t spend time brooding about how brokenhearted people made me feel when there were a gazillion other problems going on in my brain. “I saw him walking toward the restroom. Give him a blowjob for all I care. Go.” The words just slipped right out of my mouth, so even though I would quite literally die of heartbreak if he got with her, I had to put on my tough girl face.
Krystal winked, blowing her strawberry gum into a perfect bubble as she waved a hand and headed to the men’s restroom, making my jaw drop.
She was full of surprises, but she could be bluffing too. If only God cared enough to hear me praying for her suspension from school right then and there.
As she left, I noticed her crossing paths withherex, Gray Yoo, who also happened to be Cole’s obnoxious cousin.
Gray and Cole lived under the same roof, but the fact that they were related was impossible to perceive. Cole was biracial, inheriting his Korean father’s bronze complexion while his Italian mother was responsible for the remainder of his features.
On the other hand, Gray was fully Korean. Though his parents went on a business trip and allegedly never returned, he still managed to go to school with the help of Cole’s mother. Ever since we were kids, he was a troublemaker. He radiated pretentious vibes and did nothing but annoy the hell out of my bitter ass. He was like the little brother I never wanted.
Not to mention, I almost drowned because of him.
In kindergarten, Gray, Cole, and I used to be like the three musketeers. Even though I only played Jenga with them because I wanted to sit next to the calm and innocent Cole, I secretly reveled in their company.
But Gray? He was too wild for his own good—cute but hyperactive—and I could never catch up to him. Almost everyone I came across considered him a handsome genius. They loved him. I saw Gray a little differently.
As he aged, though, all the flattering remarks he was bombarded with made his confidence skyrocket. He dated, dumped, dated, dumped, dated, and so on … Practically all the girls on campus were head over heels for him. I couldn’t blame them. He had a naturally impressive physique and an attractive face, made all the more striking by the black stud he wore in his right ear, the spiky hairstyle he’d maintained for years, and that flawless, caramel skin. He turned out to be as hot as the K-pop idols I drooled over, but hey, just because someone had the looks didn’t mean I’d date them.
Puberty was kind to Gray, so he was popular with all the other girls—and some boys—and successfully manipulated the hearts of every rich and horny girl in my class. That said, we grew apart and I refused to have him back in my circle of friends. Not that I had many—I only had Cole. But not anymore.
“Hey, small bean!” Gray passed by and called me by the nickname he’d given to me when we were children, continually dismissing my requests for him to quit belittling me or comparing me to a bean.
He never failed to get on my nerves.
For starters, I didn’t like being called small. And why bean? As in Mr. Bean? Then again, since word of my breakup spread like wildfire, he hadn’t really done anything to hurt me, other than his usual teasing. I braced myself for whatever obnoxious zinger he surely had prepared for me. Normally, he’d be laughing at my ass if I had a bad day.
I sighed as he kept on walking by in his dumb orange flannel shirt, winking at more than a few blushing girls and high-fiving his friends at the center table.
I shook my head, convincing my mind to focus on something more relevant than the color of his shirt. Unzipping my bag, I grabbed a book and pretended to read.
I was all by myself, feigning timidity like a curled-up porcupine reading a book, until I overheard somebody mentioning Cole’s name. I tugged my knitted vest into place as I looked around to find the owner of the voice, only to make eye contact with a flock of girls in miniskirts, whispering to each other at the corner table. They stared, making it obvious they were talking about me, but I didn’t mind. Before going to school, I had washed my hair with my favorite coconut shampoo and wore a yellow knee-length dress with a vest on top. I looked cute, and I knew it. I had nothing to be ashamed of—at least I wasn’t droning on about the breakup. Besides, I liked it when people admired my outfit of the day, but the thing was, they probably weren’t even paying attention to my clothes.
In a matter of a few days, people had already labeled me as Cole Kimbrough’s ex-girlfriend, which made me feel more of an outcast than ever. Everyone else had their own group of friends. There were jocks who knew nothing except sports and dating, girls who loved to spread rumors, boys who only knew how to pull pranks or start brawls, goths who dressed like witches, andthe Nightstalkers—the most feared group at school. Maybe they really were werewolf hunters, considering I hadn’t seen a single werewolf walking freely in our hallways or anywhere at all.
And then there was me. Where did I fit in?
Frustrated, I yanked at my hair and grunted. I was just about to leave when something strikingly pink caught my eye: Keith Roeske, in all his glory, with a buzz cut hidden under a pink cap.
The first time I’d seen Keith was freshman year. I had mistaken him for a girl. He’d had his hair tied in a ponytail, and his smooth, ivory skin made it seem like he was wearing makeup even when he wasn’t. He had the kind of look a girl like me envied. Well, besides the flat chest. I couldn’t even bear to leave my room without BB cream on my face. Keith could slay the bare face. He also happened to be a member of our high school’s group of teenage werewolf hunters—and Cole’s neighbor.
A few minutes later, Cole came out of the men’s restroom—hopefully still a virgin—and went straight to the Nightstalker’s table with Krystal tailing him. He then engaged himself in what seemed like a formal conversation with the rest of the gang before shaking hands with Jian Yu, their long-haired Chinese leader. His skin was covered in tattoos, flames on the nape of his neck and a king cobra embracing his tree trunk arms. Keith simply stood there like a porcelain doll, periodically exchanging dramatic glances with my ex, as if they were communicating telepathically, hiding something from the universe … and me. The way they gazed at each other reminded me of the many stories I had read online—of two boys falling in love with each other at first sight. Like a couple straight out of amanhwa,a South Korean graphic novel, or the book I was currently pretending to read for the sake of my ego—Let Daiby Won Soo-yeon; both had handsome and cute characters. In a perfect world, if those two hooked up, their glorious ship name would be Coleith.
Clearly, my obsession with boys falling in lovewas a cause for genuine concern.
Despite the distraction of the loud, bustling cafeteria and clinking of forks on plates, I couldn’t help but focus more on Cole.
In lieu of the typical migraine this scene would elicit, I fixated on the ever-decreasing probability of him and I getting back together.
As my feelings of exasperation worsened, I shot up from my seat with the book in my right arm and a mini backpack slung around my shoulder. I imagined myself acting like a villain inserting herself between the new potential couple on campus. I would march up to their table and scream—be that scandalous girl trending on TikTok.
But then … I laughed.
For real, I laughed alone like an evil maniac who was beyond redemption and drew everyone’s attention to me.
I didn’t even do anything yet.
Before I could run away from this ignominy caused by yours truly, an orange figure conveniently knocked into my fragile bones, forcing me to drop my book on the floor and forget about my stupid plan to go viral.
