WW | Chapter 8

In the end, in her desperation, Yul grabbed his arm. Only then did Yoonjo stop and look at her. She clutched his thick, strong wrist through the fabric, but she was too anxious to even feel it. She was frightened and desperate.

“Don’t tell anyone.”

“What?”

“What you just heard about me. Please, don’t tell the others.”

Locking eyes with Yoonjo, Yul spoke without taking a breath. He stared at her silently. For a moment, she realized his eyes were a soft brown. Under the natural light by the gate, his eyes had looked darker, but now, she felt herself freeze, caught in his gaze.

“Like I’d even care.”

He replied coldly, pulling his hand out of his pocket and placing it on her wrist. His large hand wrapped around her thin wrist, gently pushing her hand away from him. Only then did Yul realize she was still holding onto him.

As she released him in surprise, Yoonjo turned and started walking again. His broad, indifferent back left no room for her to reach out again. Strangely, though, this time she didn’t feel bad. She sensed that Yoonjo’s indifference wasn’t directed solely at her; it was just part of who he was. Somehow, that gave her an odd sense of trust that he wouldn’t go around talking about her.

She watched him walk away, then looked at her hand, left empty. The strange feeling of holding onto him lingered in her grasp.

Like any place, this school had its ranks. The higher the class number, the more troublesome the students in that class. Out of seven classes, Yul was placed in Class 6. In prison terms, it was like being among those serving life sentences, but not quite death row.

This placement was the result of her school record, which had accumulated over three transfers.

“Everyone, this is Seomun Yul, who just transferred here. Let’s treat her well,” the teacher announced.

The boys responded with cheers, while the girls’ stares were indifferent. Surrounded by mixed looks of admiration, jealousy, and suspicion, Yul felt her mind going blank. Out of all the things she’d had to endure since her life had hit rock bottom, this was the worst—having to fake smiles and make conversation just to survive.

“Hey, Munyul. Introduce yourself briefly and take your seat.”

The teacher, who had just been told her name, already seemed to have forgotten it. Not that it was surprising; few people recognized “Seomun Yul” as a full name.

“Hi, I’m Seomun Yul. It’s Yul, not Munyul. Nice to meet you.”

She forced a smile, though it probably looked awkward. Still, a round of polite applause and a few whistles followed. She wished it would end there, but the teacher had other plans.

“Oh, right. Your last name is Seomun, huh? That’s unique.”

“…”

“It’s a compliment, you know—shows character.”

Seeing no response from Yul, the teacher added a half-hearted remark that sounded like praise. Then, out of nowhere, he asked the class about other two-syllable surnames in Korea, prompting the students to shout out names that came to mind.

Yul didn’t participate in the conversation, instead turning her head. Her gaze landed on an unwelcome sight—the back row by the window. Kang Yoonjo was there, his arm resting on his desk, supporting his head as he slept. His tall frame seemed cramped in the small desk.

Disturbed by the noise, Yoonjo lifted his head. His half-closed eyes and distinctive features, now familiar to her, showed obvious irritation at being woken up.

So we’re in the same class.

For a moment, Yul felt as if all other sounds had disappeared. Her attention was entirely focused on Yoonjo’s slow movements. He shifted his head to rest on his other arm, closing his eyes again. It was a subtle action amid the noisy classroom, but Yul, sensitive to the presence of others, noticed it clearly. The whole class seemed to be aware of his presence, too.

His seatmate, though startled, pretended not to notice. The nearby girls glanced at him quickly before feigning indifference and looking away. Even the teacher gave him a brief glance before letting him be.

He seemed like someone who stayed outside the world’s boundaries, never blending with others, yet always at the center of attention.

“All right, that’s enough. Yul, take your seat. Second row from the left, next to Jieun,” the teacher instructed.

“Got it.”

Yul replied in relief, not needing to search for her seat since there was only one empty chair.

“Hi,” Jieun whispered shyly, giving her a sidelong glance. Her large eyes crinkled into a charming smile, framed by chubby cheeks and a fair complexion that made her look like a little bear. With her wavy bob pinned to one side, she seemed sweet and innocent—a stark contrast to this notorious school.

“Hi.”

Yul returned her smile but quickly wiped it away. Her stomach churned with nerves, making her feel like she might be sick.

No matter how notorious a school is, classes are still conducted. Yul felt relieved for the first time since she’d transferred. She had read online that some teachers didn’t even bother showing up, only playing pre-recorded lectures, but thankfully, that wasn’t the case. She had no means to afford private lessons and was determined to attend college, so regular classes were crucial for her.

During break, Yul quietly went to her locker at the back of the classroom, putting away some books and taking out her materials for the next class. When she returned to her seat, Jieun’s chair was empty.

“Hey, new girl.”

Back at her desk, a boy casually sat backward in the seat in front of her, looking friendly. He didn’t seem to be in her class, but he must’ve heard about the transfer and come specifically to check her out.

With a sly grin, he flicked his tie back, revealing a star tattoo on his neck. Although fairly good-looking, his demeanor was undeniably cocky. With two other boys with him, he didn’t look like a typical student.

Yul instinctively felt he was someone to be cautious around—a type you couldn’t ignore but also shouldn’t encourage.

“Hi.”

She replied softly, avoiding his gaze.

“I heard a pretty girl transferred, so I came to take a look. You really are pretty. What’s your name?”

“Seomun Yul.”

“Oh, Munyul. Even your name’s pretty.”

Yul didn’t bother correcting him. If people she wanted to avoid misremembered her name, it was fine by her. In fact, she preferred that the world misremember things about her—her name, her age, where she lived, and her school. So that one day, they would be strangers to her.

“I’m Park Geonju. Where’d you transfer from?”

“Uh…”

For some reason, hearing this question, Yul’s eyes unconsciously flicked toward Kang Yoonjo. He had promised to keep his mouth shut, and she had trusted that, but now, a wave of unease washed over her. She feared Geonju might laugh and mock her if she answered vaguely. Thankfully, Yoonjo was still asleep, and she looked away, feeling relieved.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No, I’m not interested in that.”

She had prepared a simple response to his question about her hometown, but Geonju didn’t seem interested in that. Her clenched fists relaxed slightly with relief.

“Oh, come on. At our age, hormones are buzzing; you should be curious about the opposite sex.”

Geonju grinned slyly, giving her a playful look. His unfiltered friendliness felt more like a form of pressure. The other students, excluding Geonju’s crew, seemed to ignore them, which helped Yul quickly grasp the atmosphere—Geonju was someone they feared, and he probably had his reasons.

“Give me your phone number.”

He pulled out his phone, ready to save her number.

“I don’t have one.”

“Come on, don’t lie.”

“I really don’t.”

Her heart sank as she replied. She did have an old phone that barely worked in her bag, but it wasn’t under her name and was only for emergencies.

“Did you get in trouble or something, and your parents took it away?”

He chuckled as if that answer suited her. Yul thought fast, wondering how to send him away without causing any trouble. She knew from experience that getting involved with this type of person could make her school life a nightmare.

“What’s up, Geonju? Trying to hit on someone already?”

A group of girls entered through the back door, smirking at Geonju. Since Yul’s desk was close to the door, she could smell cigarettes on them.

“Mind your own business, ugly,” Geonju sneered, grinning at Yul while keeping his attention on them. The contrast between his smile and rough language sent a shiver down her spine.

One of the girls scowled at his insult, her anger quickly redirected at Yul, who hadn’t done anything. Yul’s heart sank. Things were taking a turn in the direction she least wanted.

The girl, still glaring at Yul, shifted her focus back to Geonju.

“Hey, instead of hanging around other classes, maybe you should head to the office. Looks like your boho gwansalkwan (probation officer) is here.”

“What?”

Geonju’s expression turned dark as he looked at the girl. His friendly smile vanished, replaced by his naturally harsh look.

“Ugh, seriously… this sucks.”