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Nayeon could never quite understand why she couldn’t help but seethe at the sight of the begrudgingly familiar face, but a lack of understanding isn’t going to stop her from blatantly glaring at the back of a light brunette head.
“Son of a bitch,” she curses under her breath, gawking slightly from her seat at the back of the classroom. Why do you insist on sitting at the front every time? Teacher’s pet, probably.
It feels cliché for her to say “there’s this girl” as an introduction to this somewhat baffling situation, but it’s as accurate of a start as she’s going to get.
Unfortunately, it started on her first day at university. Originally, it seemed kind of funny, almost like something that could be completely brushed off as freshmen coincidence. However, noticing that the same girl was in every single one of her five courses throughout the first semester was weird for Nayeon, even then. But she paid no mind. Merely a strange coincidence, and they always sat on opposite sides – the mystery girl in the front, with Nayeon all the way in the back. No interactions, no worries. That was what Nayeon believed.
Second semester was when Nayeon’s irrational irritation over the girl’s presence had blossomed. As ambitious and determined as ever, Nayeon signed up for five courses yet again. And, just as she signed up for five courses a second semester in a row, this strange mystery girl somehow managed to, once again, slip into every single one of Nayeon’s classes. Same courses, same time slots, same seating position – every time. When Nayeon decided that this was officially off-putting, that was when the little things started to get to her, too.
She told herself that she didn’t like how the mystery girl could look so vaguely punkish, with cool jewelry and dark clothes, yet still manage to be so quiet and seemingly very diligent at taking notes. Nayeon was very much the opposite. She wasn’t afraid to proclaim answers hastily, wasn’t afraid to challenge a professor’s explanation or analytic take, wasn’t afraid to be outspoken and speak her mind – the strategic placement of sitting in the back row was often for the sake of others’ ears since the distance never made a difference for her level of volume. Perhaps it was because the mystery girl never turned to watch when Nayeon spoke, and that just never sat right with her. Yet she was always there, disgustingly attractive as ever and effortlessly obnoxious in her unoffensive silence.
But here is Nayeon now. Third semester in, plopped into a chair in the back of her fifth class and drumming her fingers impatiently on a desk as she bores holes into the back of the mystery girl’s head with her eyes. Three semesters – fifteen courses later – and Nayeon doesn’t even know this girl’s name. She was always too quiet, never had her named called on. But the teachers always gave a small smile to her when returning papers and exams, so she had to be smart, at least – not that Nayeon was ever paying that much attention, of course.
If anything, it’s distracting. It’s this girl’s fault – no one else’s, obviously – that Nayeon barely manages to take any notes down on the first day. In fact, it continues that way for the next couple of weeks, down a rabbit hole of feeling grated over a girl who has done nothing to incite any wrath other than exist, albeit much too consistently in Nayeon’s proximity.
However, for the first time, she learns the girl’s name through a stroke of luck.
Nayeon’s eyes widen immediately when she sees the mystery girl’s figure suddenly pass her in the hallway on the way to the cafeteria, and some deranged part of her thinks that whipping her body toward the nearest water fountain is some subtle form of going incognito, despite the fact that the girl has already passed her. She indulges in some water while she keeps a careful eye on the mystery girl, too focused on her to notice when some running male passerby bumps into another girl in the hall. Books and papers immediately drop to the ground, and the boy continues running without seeming to realize that he collided with anyone. Nayeon swiftly grabs his sleeve as he passes her, rendering him still, and she greets his bewildered expression with an impishly fake smile.
“Watch where you’re going,” she says, letting go of the fabric and leaving him to continue on his merry way, still seemingly none the wiser but nonetheless shaken. When she turns her head back toward the girl whose books fell, her instinct to help is dulled down at the sight of the mystery girl squatting and helping with the literary debris.
“Thank you so much, Jeongyeon,” the victim says, letting out a big sigh of relief as she stands up, books and papers piled back up in her arms. “I’m glad you were here.”
The mystery girl of Nayeon’s nightmares – Jeongyeon, apparently – laughs. “It’s not like I beat the guy up for you. I just picked up some books.”
“Yeah, but it would have royally sucked to pick this all up on my own,” the other girl chuckles. “You might have just saved me from being late.”
“You should probably hurry up, then,” Jeongyeon suggests, donning a small smile as she waves at the departing girl. “I’ll see you at work on Thursday!”
Nayeon raises an eyebrow, watching as Jeongyeon begins to walk away and inevitably disappear around the corner of the corridor. Jeongyeon, huh?
This information doesn’t really do much for her, but the veins in Nayeon’s forehead threaten to pop when she starts noticing Jeongyeon more and more in the hallway – always doing something nice or selfless, no less. Nayeon is beginning to lose faith in a so-called benevolent God. After all, isn’t unwillingly catching your unsworn mortal enemy on campus and her kind antics just a bit too torturous? Nayeon is trying to find more reason to hate her, not trying to resist hating her less! It doesn’t help when she notices a pride flag on an army jacket of Jeongyeon’s one day, and Nayeon be damned if she incites any kind of lesbian-on-lesbian crime over a hot girl’s insistent existence.
But it slowly starts to tug at her, with every act of holding the door open or with every time that Nayeon becomes hyperaware of how often Jeongyeon is the first person to offer a pen when someone in class doesn’t have one. Nayeon is used to being loud, given her voice and personality, but Jeongyeon’s small actions start becoming too deafening for her. Her soft smile and roaring laughter in the hallway start to become as familiar as the back of her head.
If you asked her at what point the dread began to turn into excitement over the sight of Jeongyeon, Nayeon wouldn’t be able to answer. And, in realizing that, she recognizes how much that bothers her. There is no way that a girl could coincidentally end up in every single mutual course of hers for three semesters; there is no such thing as destiny. Only coincidences – even if they’re creepy and come in the form of a girl in round spectacles during the mornings and afternoons. At least, that’s what Nayeon wants to believe. But she’s frustrated by the time the semester nears its end, and she’s beginning to open up to the idea of considering fate as a very real force of the cosmos.
It’s a week before the final exam period, and Nayeon has now had enough. She’s tired, both from studying harder than ever and from her turmoil over a girl who she has never so much as uttered a word toward – tired over trying to figure out these feelings in her chest that began to sprout against her will. And an exhausted, frustrated, and relatively gay Nayeon is not a recipe for a patience.
She finds herself hastily sitting herself beside Jeongyeon at the end of their first morning class, and Nayeon doesn’t even bother for subtlety as the chair clacks back and forth while she navigates getting into it. She almost feels satisfied at the sight of Jeongyeon’s confused gaze, finally looking back at her for once in a way that Nayeon is shocked feels as gratifying as it does. Also, it doesn’t help that Jeongyeon looks particularly sexy today. But she cuts to the chase, feeling done with this fucking mind game and wanting to just throw herself headfirst before she blows a fuse.
“Okay. Now I’m just annoyed. I can’t decide if you’re a creep or if this is fate, so it really better be the latter or I’m dropping out of this hellhole and getting a restraining order,” she says, her resolve permeating through her as she stares Jeongyeon down, refusing to break eye contact. She doesn’t allow herself to feel shaken as Jeongyeon’s wide eyes seem to search her own for further elaboration, but Nayeon refuses to believe that Jeongyeon has been unaware of their chanced circumstances.
Jeongyeon looks Nayeon up and down before bluntly asking, “Are you feeling okay?”
Nayeon groans. Oh, fuck off. There’s little hesitation as she stands up and immediately heads out of the classroom without a word, unwilling to dwell on Jeongyeon’s ignorance. Was she really going to pretend like she wasn’t some beautiful void during Nayeon’s weekdays?
She hates that she turns her head over her shoulder after a sizable distance, hates that she feels a sting of rueful disappointment when Jeongyeon is nowhere to be seen behind her. She isn’t sure why she would expect Jeongyeon to chase after her over such a ridiculous outburst, but Nayeon supposes that she might have been relying on the fantasized Romeo side of Jeongyeon just a little too much.
There’s some time until their next class, and the minutes in-between don’t do much for Nayeon’s increasing sense of guilt. Replaying the scene in her head, she isn’t quite sure what part about it she expected could’ve possibly gone well. She’s not the type to confess – and definitely not the type to confess to someone she had been hellbent on loathing for a majority of her academic time at campus. Does Jeongyeon even know who Nayeon is? Does Nayeon even know Jeongyeon? Why do I like her?
The question quickly fades when she enters the room of their next class, already feeling nervous again when she sees that Jeongyeon has arrived early. Just be really direct this time… Yeah, more direct. Be obvious. You’re good at that, Nayeon. Direct. Just don’t be fucking sappy, you barely know her.
Nayeon clears her throat when she sits herself beside Jeongyeon again at the front, being much subtler with the roughness of moving the chair this time around. Jeongyeon is already looking her way, an eyebrow raised in suspicious expectancy. Whatever Nayeon had planned to say instantly disappears, making way for an inevitable mess.
Suddenly feeling very shy, she admits, “I was trying to imply you’re hot. You’re gay, right?”
Jeongyeon blinks a few times before abruptly standing up, packing her items, and leaving the room without a word. Nayeon wonders if the sight is identical to how Jeongyeon saw her when she left in the prior class.
“Dammit,” Nayeon sighs, choosing to remain seated in the same spot as class starts. Maybe she’d try again in their next class, except she would manage to be a lot more eloquent, hopefully.
But Jeongyeon isn’t in their next class for the day, and Nayeon doesn’t need much help in figuring out that it’s because of her arguable insanity. It only takes a moment of average sensibility to review the situation in hindsight and come to the verdict that Nayeon was being absurd. Maybe she is.
Once she’s back home and on her laptop, Nayeon rushes to look through her class’s online site for Jeongyeon’s name, and she’s grateful when clicking on it provides the girl’s school email. Nayeon isn’t above sending an apology, so long as she’s in the wrong – which is almost never, she’d insist. She bites her lip as she stares at the screen, feeling anxious but nonetheless grateful for the chance to take her time in writing a response that she can proofread before sending.
Dear Yoo Jeongyeon,
Firstly, I owe you an apology. The fact that I not only humiliated myself once, but twice, in front of you is incredibly cringeworthy. And I’m sorry if, by extension, that ended up embarrassing you, too. I went about something I wanted to say in the wrong way – twice – out of sheer panic. I don’t even know if you know who I am, so I can only imagine that it was probably kind of scary, too. Then again, I’ve been called a crazy person on a few occasions. But whatever. I’m really sorry about invading your space and coming on so strongly out of nowhere.
Even if you don’t know who I am, I hope that you haven’t been blind to the fact that we have been in the same exact academic schedules for the past three semesters. I don’t know about you, but that seems more batshit crazy than me. That was sort of the point of the “restraining order” bit, I think, but the exaggeration was kind of shitty on my part, especially with my delivery. I promise that I’m better at jokes and sarcasm, I was totally just out of my element.
Also, I used to be annoyed, too – at the fact that I began realizing how persistent you unintentionally were in being wherever I was in school. I considered you some kind of unwarranted enemy, like someone I was ultimately tied to against my will, who seemed different from me. But I don’t know if you are. I only know that I started noticing more things about you, like the way that you help others in the hallway or how generous you are in class when people ask for help or are missing materials. You’re always holding open doors for people, always letting people know when something is on the back of their shirt before you reach for it yourself, always paying attention to others more than you let words out of your mouth, always willing to lend some money, always offering to help the professor. Your actions are as loud as my voice, so they started to speak to me more and more without me realizing it.
Are you always quiet? Or is that just the Jeongyeon that I’ve seen in school? Are you funny or awkward out there in the real world? Would you end up irritating me as much as my archnemesis fantasy imagined or would you somehow become more endearing than you already started to be for me when I saw you helping a girl with her books one day? What’s your favorite movie genre? Do you even like movies? What’s your type of woman? Kind of hoping you’re crazy for crazy girls like me in the vain hope that you’re catching the hint here, but no pressure.
You’ve only become more and more attractive over time, but I don’t think I needed fifteen classes to tell me that. I think I just needed them to start paying attention. But I want to get to know you, to whatever extent you’re comfortable with, and I hope I’ve relayed that here – at least, more efficiently than I did earlier today. God, I’ll pretend it didn’t happen if you do, too. Deal?
Sincerely,
Im Nayeon
She told herself that she would proofread it, but her panic ultimately keeps her from doing so and suddenly she’s smashing the “send” button. Nayeon isn’t the most articulate person by any means, but hopefully this would be enough. She won’t hold out for a miracle – except, she doesn’t have to hold out at all when her phone pings her within the next hour while she’s lying down in bed and watching videos of puppies, with an email awaiting her from a familiar name.
Dear Im Nayeon,
Definitely not accepting that deal, but I’ll offer a new one. Want to get coffee sometime?
Sincerely,
Yoo Jeongyeon
Nayeon’s cheeks hurt from how wide her grin is, staring at the few words on her screen while gently kicking her feet excitedly against the mattress. A part of her wants to chastise herself for being so embarrassingly childish in her excitement, but she decides to shut that part of her up and enjoy the moment while it lasts. Another part of her wants to hit Jeongyeon on the arm for giving such a short response to what Nayeon considers a very long and noble gesture, but she convinces herself that a potential date is enough of a compromise in the meantime.
They make plans for the following day, given that it’s the weekend. A cozy little café sounds more than fine to Nayeon, though she shamelessly seeks out whatever outfit will make her look hot without foregoing too much modesty. A dark denim jacket over a low-cut t-shirt and tight jeans seem casual enough, Nayeon tells herself as she practically cackles in the mirror over how perfect her eyeliner came out. It normally takes a few tries, but it seems that she has struck some luck. Maybe God is real, she thinks as she folds her hands dramatically and leaves for the café’s location.
Jeongyeon would be seated and waiting in a leather jacket and dark jeans by the time Nayeon arrives, and Nayeon fights the urge to roll her eyes at how typical it is. She’s beginning to think she has some kind of passive-aggressive coping mechanism over Jeongyeon’s attractiveness, and she needs to get rid of it quickly before she potentially offends the girl by accident. But really, where does she get off looking so good?
“So, Im Nayeon,” Jeongyeon greets as Nayeon approaches the table, a small smirk on the former’s face. Nayeon isn’t used to that, and she can’t help but like it a lot.
“Yoo Jeongyeon,” Nayeon counters, removing her jacket and putting it on the back of the chair before sitting down. She leans forward a bit in her seat, totally not trying to show off her top and how generous it is in the cleavage department. Jeongyeon seems to notice, though her gaze flicks back up to meet Nayeon’s eyes. Nayeon chooses to take that as a win.
Jeongyeon clears her throat. “That email was really unexpected.”
“Unexpected, maybe, but necessary,” Nayeon shrugs, gently drumming her fingers against her own thigh as she begins to frown. “I definitely made a bad first impression.”
Jeongyeon chuckles. “That definitely wasn’t my first impression, but I’ll admit it only emphasized the one I already had.”
Nayeon blinks. “What does that mean? What impression?”
“Well,” Jeongyeon fiddles with her necklace as she explains, “I actually did notice that we had been in every class together. It was kind of hard not to, since you’re usually the loudest one.”
Nayeon raises an eyebrow, unfazed. “Your point?”
“I guess your gestures in the classroom only proved that you were as rowdy as I imagined.”
Nayeon is a little bit shocked by this teasing and guffawing side of Jeongyeon, which is leagues more in volume than the literal silence that Jeongyeon kept in class. But she doesn’t dislike it. In fact, it excites her a little bit. She enjoys having a challenge and, as she smirks back at Jeongyeon, she sees that Jeongyeon might be a better match than expected of such a pretty face.
“Oh, you don’t know the meaning of rowdy,” Nayeon snickers.
“I’m not sure if that’s a sexual or a violent threat.”
“Depends. Which would you prefer?” A coy smile plays at Nayeon’s lips. Jeongyeon blushes, and Nayeon tries hard not to relish in it for too long.
“Coffee?” Jeongyeon blurts out, standing up and taking out her wallet.
Nayeon furrows her brow. “I can pay for myself.”
“But I asked you out.”
“Do I look like a traditional bitch?” Nayeon scoffs jokingly, trying hard to suppress the butterflies at the phrase “asked you out,” and giving Jeongyeon a reassuring smile as she, too, stands up from her chair. “Let’s just order together. How about we just pay for the other’s drink? Just make sure yours is cheap; I’ll make mine insanely expensive.”
It's obvious that she’s kidding, and Jeongyeon rolls her eyes and smiles despite herself. “Whatever the princess wants.”
“Princess? Wow, pet names already. We move fast, Yoo,” Nayeon winks. Jeongyeon chuckles but doesn’t give a verbal reply, but Nayeon enjoys the pink hue on her cheeks. Maybe she feels a little warmth on her own, as well.
It takes a couple of minutes, with Nayeon and Jeongyeon sharing some of their favorite songs and tv shows, but the coffees are eventually ready, and they return to their seats at the table.
“Here you go,” Nayeon says, handing the styrofoam cup over to Jeongyeon.
“’Enemy?’’ Jeongyeon reads, half-laughing, from the sharpie on the side of the cup. “Was I really that big of a deal for you?”
“Oh my god, yeah. It was such a huge deal at the beginning of this semester, I was practically boiling all the time. It was a very poor display of my sanity, which I swear I have – well, somewhere.”
Jeongyeon smiles, amused. “You cared about me a lot and we didn’t even formally meet? Guess the name I gave for your cup is as fitting as I thought.”
Nayeon raises an eyebrow, confused until Jeongyeon hands over the other styrofoam cup on the table. On the side, in thick black marker, it reads “#1 Fan” in capital letters. Nayeon can’t help but giggle, because it definitely isn’t the term she’d use for how she initially felt about Jeongyeon, but maybe it could be true with some time. Nonetheless, maybe it’s cute.
“So I’m your number one, then?” Nayeon grins sincerely, though she is definitely just teasing.
“Pbfft,” Jeongyeon chuckles. “We’ll see about that, Im.”
“More like I’ll see to it,” Nayeon says confidently, pumping her brow as she takes a careful sip of her coffee. She likes the way that Jeongyeon bashfully smiles against her cup as she, too, takes a shot at the hot beverage.
Nayeon is surprised by how long they end up talking at the café. They continue to talk about random things, like how Jeongyeon aspires to learn how to cook tasty meals as a result of her parents’ influence, or how Nayeon had always wanted to go to a summer camp as a kid but has been trying to search for an adult-friendly one for any of the upcoming summers. They talk about school, like how dull one of their professors is in their monotonous voice, or how the cafeteria’s chicken is definitely not as cooked as it should be but only on Wednesdays. They talk about their childhood dreams, like how Jeongyeon always wanted to sing, or how Nayeon always wanted to sing and act. They make a teasing promise to go out for karaoke and see how the other sings.
They talk about a lot of things, and Nayeon feels a little disappointed when she realizes how late it is. Jeongyeon seems to notice, too, because she frowns suddenly and they both share a small smile before simultaneously admitting that they both need to start heading home.
“Thank you for inviting me out today,” Nayeon says as they reach a point in the sidewalk where they must part ways.
Jeongyeon smiles. “Thank you for coming. I enjoyed myself more than I expected.”
Nayeon smirks. “Low expectations?”
“Nice trap,” Jeongyeon rolls her eyes, “but no. It’s like getting a perfect grade instead of just a great grade.”
“Oh, so I’m perfect, then?”
Jeongyeon scoffs. “I think you’re a little too confident for your own good. I noticed your little ‘tactic’ earlier with your leaning.”
“Don’t tell me you’re nervous around breasts, Jeongyeon,” Nayeon fakes a gasp, as though the notion is scandalous. “A mature woman such as yourself… you should be comfortable with the feminine body. There’s nothing to be ashamed of or embarrassed about.”
“You tease everyone like this?”
“Just the ones I like,” Nayeon smiles, shifting her denim jacket from her shoulder and fully putting it on. “Can’t handle it?”
Nayeon freezes and feels a blast of heat travel beneath the skin of her face when Jeongyeon takes a swift step and kisses her lightly on the forehead. A part of her wants to pull Jeongyeon in by her leather jacket and press their lips hard against one another but, between the bashful shock and the desire to remain respectful after only one date despite a year and a half of unintended tension, she doesn’t. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear shyly and clears her throat awkwardly when Jeongyeon pulls away, but she frowns at the sight of a smirk on Jeongyeon’s face.
“Can you?” Jeongyeon teases.
Nayeon groans at the cheesy twisting of her own words, and she gently smacks Jeongyeon on the arm despite her blush, which only serves to make Jeongyeon laugh even louder. But then they must leave, and Nayeon bites down a smile as she walks home.
It’s in silent agreement that, from that point on, they begin to sit together in every class. And, when the time comes to register for classes, it is no longer coincidence when Nayeon and Jeongyeon have the same schedule yet again for the fourth semester in a row.
This time, it’s intentional.