Clockwork Extra: Hello, Goodbye

by Lindei

This is an extra for Clockwork, set 6 years before the beginning of the story and written from Heng's perspective. M/M

This is a Clockwork oneshot about Zian and Heng meeting in college. It's all from Heng's perspective; I thought about switching back and forth between the two, but that would have been really long. Besides, if you have read Clockwork, then I assume you'll know what sorts of stupid things are going on in Zian's head.

I hope you enjoy it. :)

---

Tapping the sides of my thumbs on the steering wheel in time to the pop song playing on the radio, I let my eyes roam around the view of the darkening evening sky I had out the windshield, half listening as Nuo, my girlfriend, chattered away about something some girl I didn't know did with some guy I didn't know. It was kind of boring, and was getting harder to keep an interested look on my face.

I gave her a glance when she let out a surprised noise, then returned my eyes to the road.

"Did you have to hit that hole?!" she demanded, leaning forward toward the little mirror she had propped up on the dashboard and wiping at the corner of her eye. "Dammit, my eyeliner…Be more careful!"

"Sorry," I replied, trying to actually sound like I meant it.

It was her own damn fault for trying to do her makeup in the car.

"Took enough effort to get you to wear something other than jeans and a hoodie. You don't have to make it difficult for me to get ready too."

"Yeah, sorry," I mumbled, fighting back a sigh as she went back to talking about whatever. A few seconds later she let out another "Ah!" and turned toward me with an accusatory glare and another smear of eyeliner in the wrong place. "What?" I asked, giving her a glance. "I avoided the hole."

"I told you to avoid the holes, not swerve all over the road!"

"I wasn't swerving."

"So, what, my hand just happened to do this?!"

"Why didn't you do your makeup before I came to get you?"

"I didn't have time!"

"Fine. I'll pull over somewhere and you can finish."

"No! Then we'll be late for our reservation, and you've already ruined enough of our dates!"

With extreme annoyance, I closed my mouth, letting her continue to rant and complain about how terrible of a boyfriend I was. It seemed like things were always like this between us. We'd only been dating for just over two months, but it felt more like a decade. I was starting to forget why I agreed to go out with her in the first place. When I'd met her she had seemed nice, cute, and funny, and was very attractive, but after a few weeks it became apparent that she was the girlfriend from hell.

Why hadn't I dumped her yet?

My phone rang in its little holder on the dashboard, cutting into Nuo's snippy reenactment of some fight we'd had a million years ago. The phone's screen displayed the phone number of the house where my three little brothers were spending the night with a friend. Shooshing Nuo, I pressed the answer button and said, "Yeah?" hoping nothing was wrong.

"Dàgē? Could you come get us?"

"Did something happen?" I turned my head to the left in an attempt to ignore Nuo's furious head shaking.

"Yi says he's gonna puke everywhere if you don't come really fast."

There was a faint, exaggeratedly anguished yell of "A-a-a-ah, my stoma-a-ach!" in the background.

"I'll be there soon." Hanging up, I sighed and forced myself to glance at Nuo again. She was giving me her oh-no-you-don't look. "I have to."

"You do not! There are parents there who can deal with it!"

"I'm not going to shove my sick brother onto someone else. We can go out some other night."

"You have canceled on me tons of times already because your brothers keep calling you. You never make me your first priority!"

"They're only six years old, so I have no idea why the fuck you think I should leave them alone if they need me for something."

"It's not that they need you for anything important—you know the stupid brats do it on purpose!"

Gritting my teeth, I pulled my car to the curb and stopped, turning to fully face her. "I don't give a damn if they do it on purpose or not, and honestly I'd rather go deal with a pile of puke than go to dinner with you and listen to you bitch and whine all evening. There's a bus stop," I announced, gesturing out the window, not wanting to be around her any longer than necessary.

"You asshole, you can't just strand me here!"

"It's a bus stop!" I repeated angrily. "Buses stop here! You won't be stranded, stupid! Now get out!"

She warningly shoved a finger in my face. "If you leave me here, Heng, we are through."

Glaring at her, I leaned over and opened her door. "Get the fuck out of my car."

That pretty face of hers turned a shade redder and she unbuckled her seatbelt, then threw it aside as she scrambled out of the car and slammed the door shut, swearing and yelling at me nonstop. Resisting the urge to give her a very rude hand gesture while I pulled away, I checked over my shoulder for traffic and got back on the road. About ten minutes later, I parked my car on the roadside and got out, hurrying up the steps to the house in which my brothers were staying.

Trying to keep my anger hidden, I rang the doorbell and attempted to remember if Yi had been acting differently earlier. He had seemed fine. Perhaps he'd eaten something strange. Or maybe he was faking. All three of them, just as Nuo had accused, often pretended to have some sort of problem if I was hanging out with friends or on a date. I would always put them before anyone else, and they knew that. Really, I thought it was kind of cute that they got so jealous of anyone who had more of my attention than they did, although it did get annoying from time to time.

However, this interruption was gladly welcomed.

The door opened and the triplets' friend's mother greeted me with a somewhat embarrassed smile. "Heng, come in, please."

With a smile and a nod, I stepped inside and slipped off my shoes. "Is Yi okay?"

"He's fine," she assured, patting my arm as she led me into the living room. "Resting on the couch and being very dramatic, but fine. I'm sorry your date got interrupted; I was going to handle him myself, but they managed to call you before I noticed they'd taken the phone."

"Don't worry about it. The date wasn't going so well anyway." Clearing my throat, I smiled a bit brighter as Yi, looking overly haggard as he was sprawled across half the couch, sat up and held his arms out.

"Dàgē!"

"Hey, twerp," I replied, hurrying over and picking him up. "How're you feeling? Still pukey?"

"A little." His voice quavered a little too much, and I could hardly suppress my amusement; it was obvious that he was acting. He didn't even have a tiny hint of a fever either.

"Alright, let's getcha home." Hoisting him up a bit higher, I looked down at the other two, who were completely engrossed in the fighter video game they were noisily playing with their friend. "Guys, finish up that match, and then go get your things."

San gave me a vague, distracted mumble in reply, and Er continued to make his own sound effects as his avatar bounced around the screen. Sitting on the couch, I comfortably lowered Yi to my lap and ruffled up his hair, ignoring his indignant "Stop that!" as I thanked the friend's mother for the steaming cup of tea she set on the end table beside me.

"Is she waiting outside?" Yi asked, frowning grumpily.

"Nuo went home."

That grumpiness vanished immediately as he let out a triumphant "Good!" which confirmed all of my suspicions.

"Do you guys really dislike her so much?"

"She was always making faces at us whenever you weren't looking," he huffed, "and she was smelly."

"That's called perfume."

"Her perfume smells, then! It was so smelly, I thought I'd suffocate!"

"Mm…Yeah, it was pretty strong." Sighing a bit, I was silent for a moment, watching the battle continue to rage on the TV, then murmured, "Well, you guys don't have to worry about her anymore. She and I just broke up."

"Really?!" He looked entirely too happy for something as dismal as a breakup.

"Yeah."

"Er, San! Dàgē broke up with Smelly!" he reported loudly, and I attempted to keep myself from blushing as both parents of the triplets' friend both looked at me through the kitchen door.

Although Er didn't seem to hear the news, San dropped his controller and turned around, smiling just as brightly as Yi. "Really?!"

"Yeah!"

"Took long enough."

The brats had been planning this all along…

Er let out a cackle and nudged San with his elbow. "Killed you-u-u."

"WHAT?!" San wailed, whirled back around. "No fair! I wasn't looking! I want a rematch!"

"No rematches," I cut in, bouncing my legs up and down.

"But Dàgē, he killed me!"

"That's the whole point of the game," I replied, taking a drink of my tea. "If we leave soon, you three can play at home for a while before bed."

Looking very reluctant, he gave a nod and put his controller away, sitting down on the floor again to watch and cheer while Er and their friend beat each other up. It only took a few minutes for the match to end—Er won—and we gathered up all of the stuff the triplets had brought, apologized to the parents for being so much trouble, then marched out to the car and left.

Stopping briefly at an intersection, I glanced in the rear-view mirror at the triplets, waiting for a pause in their debate about which game they would play once we got home. At the first moment of silence, I cut in. "Tomorrow's a really important day, guys, remember? You can't play for too long."

"Can we have a snack?"

"Yeah," I replied, running the contents of my cupboards through my head. "But you guys have to be super awesome and go to bed on time. No whining. I've got class tomorrow and have to get up early."

"Oka-a-a-ay," two of them chorused, with one addition of "As long as we get cake."

"Cake?" I repeated, raising an eyebrow and glancing in the mirror again. They hadn't found out about the one I'd already made in secret last night, had they?

"It's an important day!" Yi added, looking unashamed to be demanding cake while he was claiming to be sick. "You gotta have cake on important days! It's the rules!"

"Yeah, fine, I guess it's important enough," I caved, inwardly chuckling when the car was filled with cheering and loud calls of dibs on their favorite parts of the cake.

The next morning, energetic voices all speaking at once filled the hot summer air and added to my headache as I sat quietly on the green plastic bench, leaning back against the table behind me, using my backpack as a cushion. People crowded the area, some heading into the nearby buildings, some walking in little groups, some sitting like my friends and I, all looking nervous to some degree. It was the first day of the first semester of my first year in college. A very important day, as the triplets had said, although the brats obviously didn't care about why we were celebrating and simply wanted an excuse to have more sugar than usual.

Throwing a remark into the lively conversation of the group sitting around me, I went back to staring at the people milling about the campus grounds—not that I could see them very well, due to my poor eyesight and lack of glasses—and attempted to suppress a smile as I pictured what my cute little brothers' faces would look like this evening when I'd bring out the cake that they didn't know I'd made.

"You okay?" a quiet voice asked.

Looking up and to the right, I smiled and nodded at Bai, one of my best friends. "Yeah, fine."

"You're awfully quiet," he added, raising one of his carefully-shaped eyebrows in disbelief. "Is Nuo being difficult again?"

I inadvertently grimaced at the name, which caused Bai to slip from his seat on top of the table and sit on the bench beside me. I shook my head. "She isn't…and won't be anymore. We broke up last night."

Bai's large brown eyes widened into a concerned stare, but I could tell he was trying not to smile when he excitedly murmured, "That bitch. What for?"

"The usual stuff. Don't worry about it. This was a long time coming." Regardless of the fact that Nuo knew I had two part-time jobs and three six-year-old brothers, she had still demanded I spend every waking moment with her, and got all dramatic when I told her that I didn't have time. Even when I made time for her, she would do nothing but complain, just like last night. Becoming single was, if anything, a relief.

I still felt kinda lonely, though.

"You can do a lot better than her," Bai assured, putting a comforting hand on my arm.

"Like me!" a voice called from my other side, and an arm was thrown around my shoulders. Yang, one of Bai and my mutual friends from high school, batted his eyelashes at me. "Heng, baby, bury your face in my chest and cry your little eyes out! I'll comfort you all night long!"

"Yang, baby, you know I'd love to, but Anna would kill me," I replied, putting my arm around him in return and patting his bearded face as hard as I could.

"Anna will understand!" he insisted, flinching when I began patting him harder. "Ow, ow, ow, ouch, ow, ow. Quit hitting me!"

"I don't wanna be comforted by you," I decided, giving his red cheek one last smack and shoving him away.

"I'm going to tell Anna you're trying to cheat on her," Bai declared.

"Go ahead! She's always cheating on me with you!"

"Sleeping over at her apartment for Girl's Night doesn't count as cheating, stupid."

"It does when you're a guy."

"I'm not a guy!"

"Wear all the makeup you want, you've still got a dick. I've seen it."

Bai sharply inhaled, his face turning pink, but I interrupted, "Where is Anna, anyway?" and glanced around. The group we were sitting with was all people I'd just met—Bai and Yang's friends, and friends of those friends. A couple were freshmen like us, but the rest were sophomores and juniors.

"Toilet," Yang answered, sticking a hand into the pocket of his pants. "So, finally got rid of the whiny bitch, huh? Good for you. I never liked her. Cigarette?"

"Shoulda told me that two months ago when Anna introduced me to her." I shook my head when he lifted the partially-empty carton. "I'm quitting."

"You've been saying that for years," he commented with amusement, removing one cigarette and putting the remainder back in his pocket.

"I mean it this time. Yi told me last week that my favorite jacket smelled bad 'cause I'd been smoking in it, and later I caught him washing it in the tub with drain cleaner and a toilet brush." He had looked so proud of himself for "helping" me, I hadn't been able to bring myself to scold him, although the jacket was now ruined. I was simply relieved he hadn't gotten any of the cleaner on himself.

Bai, who loved clothing, looked horrified, but Yang started laughing. "Ah, poor you. I'll save this for later, then." He gave my shoulder a hearty pat, then put away the cigarette. We slipped ourselves back into the table's conversation, which had turned to the best ways of dealing with various professors. This discussion was interrupted in a few minutes, however, when a very expensive-looking flashy black car pulled up at the edge of the parking lot, and the uniformed driver got out.

One of the second-years whistled. "Looks like royalty enrolled this year. Who the hell even hires themselves a driver anymore? Lazy showoff."

"Think it's a prince or a princess?" someone else asked, humor coloring his interested tone. Several votes on the arrival's gender were cast, and all eyes followed the prim and proper driver as he walked around the edge of the car to open the back door. He inclined his head as someone stepped out. I squinted, but at this distance I could only see a black blur.

"It's a guy. No, wait, a girl…No, wait…"

"Which is it?" I huffed, glancing up at the confused-looking man.

"It's a guy," Bai answered very close to my ear, leaning on my shoulder. The action made me shiver slightly, and I clenched my jaw, attempting to ignore his close proximity. Technically, he was just a friend, but we had dated briefly in high school, and still slept together every once and a while. I struggled to keep my mind out of the gutter.

"You sure?" the sophomore questioned, scrunching up his eyebrows and tilting his head, as if that would give him a better view. "Looks really girly to me." The person in question began walking down the sidewalk near where we were seated.

"He's too tall to be a woman, his shoulders are too wide, his hands and feet are too large, he's got no boobs, and he's wearing men's clothes."

"Could be gay, though," Yang added, elbowing me in the side. "Go talk to him, Heng. This is your chance!"

"No," I mumbled.

"Come on, talk to him! Look at his face—if he's not taken already, he will be in two seconds! Snatch him up before someone else does!"

"I don't feel like dating anyone right now."

"Who said anything about dating him? Hey, you!" Yang stood and waved at the guy.

I grabbed his arm and tried to make him sit. "Stop!" I whispered in annoyance, but he ignored me.

"Yeah, you! Come here for a sec!"

I didn't really want to, but I looked up anyway to give the guy a curious look-over when he slowed down, turning toward us. He was close enough for me to see relatively clearly now, and oh god, I never wanted to look away; Nuo had been pretty, but this guy was fucking preternaturally gorgeous. Short black hair that was neatly combed to one side, fair skin, beautiful upturned eyes, sharp and androgynous face, thin and tall body, and classy, mature-looking clothes that were bordering on business casual.

"Yes?" I couldn't stop my eyes from widening with surprise when the man spoke, his bass voice catching me completely off-guard; from the feminine way his face looked, I had expected an equally feminine voice, like Bai's. He was definitely not a girl. Or if he was a girl, the poor thing was in dire need of some throat soothers…

"My friend says he wants your number!" Yang lied, pointing at me. My face burned with embarrassment when the man's eyes flicked to me, to Yang, back to me, and that confused expression of his deepened. Swallowing hard, I waited for his reply, part of me hoping he would agree.

"Number?"

There was an awkwardly long pause. "Yeah, your phone number. Wanna give it to him?"

"No." Before Yang could say anything else, the guy turned away, obviously walking faster than before.

A chorus of "O-o-oh!" rang out around the table as everyone looked at me and laughed. "Rejected!"

My face burned hotter, and disappointment hit me like a punch to the stomach as I watched him disappear into the crowd. Why the hell had I gotten my hopes up? He was obviously way out of my league. A fancy-shmancy guy like that probably had countless people lined up to choose from. Dammit. The first day of the first semester of my first year at university, and I had already gotten publicly shot down by someone.

I made a mental note to "accidentally" do something horrible to Yang later.

Pretending like I didn't care about what had just happened, I huffed, "Whatever, I said I don't wanna date anyone right now anyway," and stood, straightening my backpack. "It's almost time for my first class. See you guys later."

Waving at the group as they called their goodbyes after me, several standing and scattering off to other buildings, I stuffed my hands into the pockets of my shorts and sighed faintly, attempting to look less grumpy when Bai popped up at my side. I sent him a questioning glance, and he smiled faintly and murmured, "Going to look for a vending machine. Still have a while before my first class starts."

Grateful for the distraction, I nodded.

"You really okay?" he asked again. "Nuo was a bitch, but you still don't look so good."

"I'm fine," I assured. "I was thinking of breaking up with her soon anyway. Was tired of her."

Bai glanced at me, then sighed and shook his head as we entered the building behind a few other people. The refreshing air-conditioned indoors made me sigh in relief after baking in the sun for so long. Bai brushed some hair out of his face and nudged me toward a hallway. "In the first place I never understood why you agreed to date her, but I figured you had your reasons. Now it just sounds like it was because you were lonely, and you know I hate when you date someone just to be dating someone.

"You'll be so distracted dating a person you don't like, you won't even notice when someone you actually want to date is right in front of you. And then what'll happen? They'll get taken by someone else, and you'll never know! Then you'll start dating some other bitch, and then you'll break up, and then you'll date someone else, and then you'll break up—it'll be a never-ending parade of shitty girlfriends you don't care about! Are you even listening to me?!"

Why get myself a naggy girlfriend when I had Bai…

"Yes, ma'am," I replied dutifully, trying hard not to smile in amusement.

"Next time, be more careful choosing a girlfriend," he ordered, shoving me lightly as he turned his head this way and that, searching for the vending machines. "Don't pick someone just 'cause they're convenient."

"Yes, ma'am."

"And if you get lonely, which I know you will…" He stopped talking for a moment, his face flushing. "Call."

Glancing toward the nearest window just so I didn't have to look at him, I mumbled another "Yes, ma'am," and cleared my throat, my mind flooding with the last time we'd been together. It had been a long time, too long, since I'd slept with anyone—Nuo had rarely been in the mood—but tonight, like so many other nights, would be spent with the triplets. No room for "happy time." But that was okay; I loved hanging out with the little boogers.

"I'm going this way," I said, jerking my head toward the stairs when we finally found the crowded little alcove housing several snack and drink machines.

"See you later," Bai replied, waving one of his small hands. "I'll text you at lunch."

"Okay." I watched for a few seconds as he opened his wallet, some of his wispy, brown-dyed hair falling over his cute face, then I sighed, feeling kind of guilty, and forced myself to turn away. Hurrying down the lively hallway filled with conversing people, I went up the stairs to the next floor, paused a moment at the top to double-check the classroom number on my printed schedule, then went off to search for the correct room.

I came dangerously close to causing a three-person pileup involving myself and an unsuspecting pair of girls when I entered the classroom, my attention snatched away from where I was walking, instead fixing itself on the person sitting at one of the front tables by the window, his sharp chin propped up on one hand, and his eyes unblinkingly staring at something outside.

O-o-o-oh…oh, oh, oh, so lucky, so lucky. He was in my class.

Wait. Was it lucky? This guy, however excited I was to be able to have a class with him, had just rejected giving me his number not ten minutes ago…It would probably be awkward if I tried to talk to him so soon afterward.

Feeling extremely nervous, I still went out of my way to walk by his seat, watching for a reaction out of the corner of my eye. He didn't turn, or even glance at me. Was he ignoring me? Or had he not even noticed me? What the hell was he looking at that was so interesting? I wondered as I sat at the table behind his, too embarrassed to sit in the empty chair beside him, though I really wanted to. I looked outside as well, thinking maybe there were some birds flying around all crazy-like or something, but I didn't see anything that would call for such intense focus.

Maybe he was daydreaming.

Slipping off my backpack, I pulled out my textbook, folder, and pencil, then, with nothing better to do, stared at the guy's back. He had a nice back…Well, actually I couldn't tell what it looked like; he was wearing a thin black sweater, and a blue button-up shirt under that. Why the hell was he wearing clothes like that in the summer? How was he not sweating? Even though the building had air conditioning, I was still kind of warm in shorts and a t-shirt. Just looking at him all bundled up was making me feel uncomfortable and overheated.

Weird guy. Maybe he was one of those snooty types who cared about their appearance over everything, and didn't want to get tanned…But then just the dress shirt would work. The sweater was too much. He should take it off. Stupid annoying piece of clothing was in the way. I had plenty of imagination to fill in the blanks, but sometimes imagination couldn't compare with the real thing. Was the rest of him as beautiful as his face? Did he work out enough to have muscles, or was he skinny? Was he the sort to be bold when taking off his clothes, or would he act embarrassed? What kind of face would he make if I did it for him? Which role would he want in bed? Being one who liked both giving and receiving, my imagination had lots of room to roam free.

However, my perverted fantasizing was rudely interrupted when the professor began taking attendance. I perked up my ears and listened hard for the guy's name. The class was large and it took a while, but eventually after a call of "Min Zian," the guy finally turned away from the window and quietly replied with the usual "Here." The professor continued down the list of names, and I continued to stare at the guy's—at Zian's back, mentally repeating the name over and over and over, memorizing it.

When my name was called, I couldn't help but glance at Zian again, looking for a reaction, but, unfortunately, it was getting to be obvious that my interest was completely one-sided. The only time he acknowledged my existence was when the course syllabus was being distributed and he handed me the stack of papers to be passed back. I gave him a quick "Thanks," and a smile as I took the papers, almost dropping them when he smiled back.

It was polite, almost stiff, but who the hell cared? He'd smiled at me…Did that mean he'd forgiven me for what Yang had done? He wasn't mad? Maybe he would change his mind about giving me his number after talking to me for a while…No, I couldn't rush things. No number, not until I had gotten to know him a bit first.

That smile was all it took to make me feel all warm and wiggly the whole rest of the class. All boring two-and-a-half hours of it. However, I had no time to talk to him afterward; I had to get to my next class immediately. I did manage to slip in a "See you later," before I left, which he took with a confused nod and a quiet "Goodbye."

Feeling stupidly happy over something so tiny, I toned my grin down to a small smile and hurried away to my next lecture, the breakup with Nuo already gone from my mind.

The next couple weeks were hectic. I liked hectic. It kept my mind off stuff I didn't want to think about. My classes were all turning out to be challenging, but having worked as hard as I could in high school to be able to enter this university, I was determined to keep up with the fast pace. Regardless of the difficulty, I was still having fun anyway.

Zian, as I discovered, was in two of my classes this semester. Initially I had been extremely happy, thinking this would give me a great opportunity to get to know him. However, getting to know him was turning out to be more difficult than the course work. He rarely said more than one or two words at a time, always spoke in a way that ended conversations before they even had a chance to start, and never made any effort to approach anyone other than the professors. I tried my hardest to make him feel included, but he consistently ignored everyone. It was super confusing.

It only took a couple days for me to learn a bit about his background—he was the second son of a very wealthy businessman, which was in no way a surprise; he had money and high-society written all over him.

But once the novelty of "royalty" being in our midst had worn off, the opinion people had in general of Zian seemed to be consistent from person to person: He was quiet to the point of making others wonder if he was a mute, and difficult to approach. Those two facts seemed to lead people to believe that Zian thought of himself as too important to associate with we from the lower rungs of the social ladder, and several people didn't bother to keep their voices down about this conclusion whenever he was around. I always tried to silence their just-loud-enough whispers, but it was obvious by the faintly upset look on Zian's face that he heard anyway. That alone dismissed any wondering if there was any truth to what they had said, so I kept up my attempts at squirming my way into his life.

Slightly over a month after the semester had started, I was making my way toward the university's library, two goals in my head, the first being the homework assignment I'd been given this morning, and the second being Zian, who I knew, after some stealthy, spy-like shadowing I did—it sounded bad, but I definitely was not stalking him—always went to study in the library when he had breaks between his classes.

Quickening my pace when the large double doors of the library came into view, I took a deep breath, opened them up, and quietly slipped into the enormous, yet sparsely populated room filled with shelf after shelf of books, dotted with tables and comfy-looking chairs, and lined with tons of computers.

After my super-stealthy-and-definitely-not-stalkerish spy work, I had a strong suspicion about where Zian would be, so I gave a polite nod to a nearby librarian, and made my way to the far corner of the library. It was a very secluded, quiet area, perfect for studying. And hiding. Being so friendly with people was sometimes a nuisance when it came to getting my work done, since the more party-prone people took my good-naturedness as a sign that I was always there to be talked to and invited to places. A good nuisance mostly, but still a bit irritating from time to time.

My feet came to a halt almost against my will when I emerged from between two of the long bookshelves and into view came the line of tables set against the wall beside the wide, sunny windows overlooking the sprawling campus grounds. Taking a deep breath, I curiously watched the lone, sun-bathed occupant of the farthest table as he slowly turned the page of the thick textbook he was reading.

Zian. Diligently studying by himself, as always.

All of my super-stealthy-and-definitely-not-stalkerish spy work had paid off.

Ignoring all of the empty tables I could have sat at, I made my way to his instead and came to a halt across from him, leaning forward slightly to see what class's textbook it was that he was reading. Economics—one of the classes I had with him. Perfect.

"Um, h-hi," I nervously blurted, inwardly kicking myself afterward for sounding stupid; my voice had cracked. Why the hell had it cracked? I was eighteen, nearly nineteen, not a kid going through puberty.

Zian looked up, flashed me one of those polite smiles of his, replied, "Good afternoon," and then immediately looked back down.

A few seconds passed in silence, then I took a deep breath and asked, "Would you mind if I sat here?" as I patted a hand on the cushioned back of the empty chair in front of myself.

He looked up again, staring at me with confusion swirling in his otherwise blank eyes, lightened to a golden brown by the sunlight pouring through the large windows.

I briefly froze, running my gaze over his thin, pale face. There had to be some sort of law against a person—especially a man—being so beautiful. If he had been more social, who knew how many other people would have been sitting at this very table at this very moment, if only to stare at him while he worked.

Zian finally shook his head, although he looked extremely reluctant to allow me to join him. I couldn't really blame him for it, after how the others in class had treated him so coldly for no good reason.

Slipping off my backpack, I quickly sat down across from him before he had a chance to change his mind. Taking out my own copy of the textbook, I slid it on top of the table and looked up. Zian had already returned his full attention to his work. Itching to say something, I fidgeted on the chair a bit and opened my book, not feeling motivated at all to actually study. I read one sentence, then looked up. "How're your classes going?"

"Fine, thank you," he answered, giving another polite smile.

"Oh. Good." I nodded awkwardly when he started reading again. "How many are you taking?"

"Six."

"Whoa, that's gotta be tough," I remarked. He simply stared at me, so I added, "I'm taking four."

Again, no reply. Just a brief twitch of a smile before he looked down. I said a bunch of random small-talkish things about the weather and current events and other sorts of trivial things, but eventually gave up trying to start a conversation and looked at my own book, reluctantly reading. This was torture. I didn't know what to say to get him to respond. Why was starting a conversation so difficult?

Several minutes later, Zian jumped. Surprised at the unexpected, abrupt movement, I jumped as well, looking up at him while he stared down at his lap. The shock eventually left his face, and with eyebrows drawn together, his hand disappeared from sight behind the table, then reappeared holding a shiny, black cellphone.

Oh. It must have vibrated or something…

He gingerly flipped up the screen, and stared hard at it for a while, then, with the speed of a dead snail glued to the ground, began pressing buttons. His lips paled as he pressed them together, his eyes narrowed, and his fingers wavered uncertainly over the phone's keypad. Annoyance started to fill me as I watched him text slower than I'd ever seen anyone text before. I wanted to snatch away his phone and write the message for him. "Why are you typing like that?" I asked, unable to watch in silence any longer.

Looking extremely focused, he briefly glanced at me. "Like what?"

"Super slowly."

A long moment went by in silence before he replied. "I am still learning where all of the buttons are."

Wow. He just said a whole sentence. Part of me felt amazed at the discovery that he was capable of speaking like a normal person. He had a such a nice voice—husky, yet thin and whispery—that might have been because we were in the library—with a polite, elegant, and mature tone. Though we were only teenagers, he spoke like a full-fledged adult, very unlike the multitudes of uncouth, loud-mouthed people surrounding us on campus every day. Yet another trait of his that I was positive many women would have adored him for if he had been friendlier.

Shaking off my surprise, I quirked an eyebrow. "New phone, huh? Did you just switch models?"

He shook his head, spent a while longer slowly pressing buttons, then added, "This is my first."

Watching him as he pressed one final button before closing the phone, I smiled and started laughing. "Your first phone? Yeah right." He looked up at me, confusion once again evident on his face. After a few moments, I quieted, feeling uncomfortable that I was the only one laughing. There was another long pause. "You're serious?" I asked, and he nodded. "You've never had a phone before?"

Another nod.

"What the hell? Why not? Aren't you a gazillionaire? Have you been living on another planet or something?!"

He unexpectedly looked surprised and curious. "People live on other planets?"

For a very long time, I simply stared at him in bewilderment and disbelief. What the fuck was wrong with this person? Either he was extremely stupid, or he was messing with me. I knew already that he got good grades, so it must have been the latter. There hadn't been any humor or sarcasm in his voice, but maybe he was just super good at acting.

"Yeah. You look just like an alien," I told him.

His eyes widened even more. "I do?"

Taking in his expression, I couldn't continue any longer. He looked way too convinced for it to be an act, and brainwashing the idiot like this was making me feel bad. "No. People don't live on other planets. I was joking."

At my flatly-delivered explanation, his cheeks flushed with obvious embarrassment. "Oh," he softly murmured, looking down at his phone sitting on top of his open textbook.

Good grief. Had he actually believed me? Just how gullible was this guy? He was stupid to the point of being adorable.

"How the hell have you survived this long without a phone?" I demanded. "Geeze! I'd be lost without mine! You're so weird." Laughing again, I leaned back in my chair and shook my head. "Even my little brothers have them, and they're only six. They're kids' phones, though. Nothing fancy."

The pinkness on his cheeks darkened and spread until his whole face was red. He slowly slipped the phone off the desk and returned it to his pocket, as if trying to hide it from me. Feeling guilty, like I'd just hurt a little kid's feelings, I quietly cleared my throat and attempted to come up with something else to say, but I couldn't stop thinking about how cute he looked right now. He was usually so calm, cool, and confident, but now…he was looking so very huggable.

"It…um, cellphones…they're really easy to use after you learn the basics," I told him in an encouraging tone. "I could teach you."

"No, thank you," he replied, his voice almost too quiet to hear.

"Okay." Attempting to hide my disappointment, I nodded. "Well, I bet you'll have it all figured out in no time."

We both fell back into silence after that, and Zian, still red-faced, looked a bit relieved that I had stopped talking, and returned to his book. Once again fighting to come up with something interesting to say, I looked down at my own book and read the same sentence I had a hundred times already since I'd sat down. My cellphone buzzed, however, and I quickly pulled it out of my pocket and glanced at it—a very flattering picture of Yang picking his nose was displayed on the screen—then pressed the "Answer Call" button, putting it to my ear.

"The bookshelves continued on and on," Yang's exhausted voice said, "stretching out in every direction, no end in sight. With every step, the travelers' legs got weaker and weaker, the bags they carried felt heavier and heavier, they hadn't eaten in days…but on they walked, searching for their lost friend."

"Go away. I'm busy," I huffed as quietly as I could, turning to look at the shelves.

"They had been searching for so long, they became afraid that perhaps he had been devoured by the fierce and terrifying Library Beast that everyone had warned them about…The Library Beast was well-known for its ability to lull people into a deep sleep, and then, with its prey completely defenseless, it would open their skulls and suck all of their life energy out through their bra-a-ains!"

"Seriously, go away!" I repeated in annoyance.

"You said you wanted to eat lunch with us," he reminded, finally dropping the dramatic voice, "so we came to pick you up. Where the hell are you hiding?"

"Nowhere! Shoo!" I lowered the phone and ended the call, nervously glancing at Zian. He was still reading. My phone vibrated again, but I rejected the call from Yang and stuffed the phone in my pocket.

However, he and Bai appeared a moment later between the bookshelves. Giving them an outraged glare, I dismissively waved my hand at them, but they came to the table anyway. "So, you were with Princess!" Yang observed, flopping down onto the chair beside mine. Zian didn't look up, but it was obvious from the wrinkles between his eyebrows that he was annoyed by Yang's use of the well-known nickname. While Bai seated himself on my chair's armrest, Yang looked down at his phone for a moment, slowly said aloud while he typed, "In…library. Rescuing…Heng…from…Library Beast," then pressed the send button and grinned. "Anna just got outta class, she'll be here in a sec."

"Go without me," I whispered. "I'll catch up later."

"Just bring Princess with you."

Inhaling in preparation to reply, I glanced at Zian, wondering if he would want to go. I doubted it. I'd never seen him in the cafeteria, and with how antisocial he was…

Might as well ask anyway.

"Wanna come to lunch with us?"

"No, thank you," Zian promptly answered.

Feeling disappointed again, I nodded once, forcing a smile onto my face. "Maybe next time."

He wordlessly replied with another of those polite smiles, making me extremely frustrated, wondering what the hell that look was supposed to mean.

Zian suddenly jumped a second time, although not anywhere near as hard as he had earlier, and quickly pulled his phone out, staring at the screen. Lightly sighing, he began typing very slowly again.

"Texting your girlfriend?" Bai asked, sounding amused. Eyes widening, I looked between the two, a sinking feeling in my stomach. I wasn't really sure why, but the thought of Zian already having a significant other had never crossed my mind. Perhaps it was because he was always alone. But that was only here on campus…He had the whole rest of the day off campus to meet with people who were most likely a million times richer and better-looking than me.

Oh no.

However, Zian shook his head and softly replied, "I do not have a girlfriend."

"Boyfriend?" Bai's smile stretched teasingly. Looking somewhat irritated, Zian shook his head again, and I could barely contain my extremely relieved whoosh of breath. Thank god, he was single.

Yang leaned forward, crossing his arms on the edge of the table. "Hm-m-m, so, do you like girls or guys?"

A spike of jealousy flared up, and I sent Yang a murderous look, mentally ordering him not to hit on Zian. He often jokingly flirted with random people, but even if it was a joke, and even though he already had a girlfriend, I would be very mad.

Zian's fingers paused in their dead-snail-paced texting, and he looked across at us. "Why?"

"I have a friend who's interested in you, and would really like to know."

The friend he was talking about had better be me, or else…

"My answer is 'no,'" Zian flatly replied, frowning as he put down his cellphone.

"That wasn't an option! Come on," Yang pressed, "tell us. My friend re-e-e-eally wants to know. And we won't be judgey if you like guys. We've got lotsa gay friends. Like Bai, here! And, just between you and me…" He leaned even farther forward and whispered, "Heng swings both ways."

Zian began gathering all of his things, put them in his bag, and stood, sliding the bag's strap onto his shoulder. "Please excuse me."

And then he left.

Horrified, I turned to Yang and furiously whispered, "You asshole! Why the fuck did you tell him that?! I hate you! You just ruined everything! You should have told him you're bi!"

Yang's bearded face narrowed into a sneaky-looking smirk. "He ran away. Suspicious…Whaddaya think, Bai?"

"Could be gay," he mumbled, sounding uninterested. Crossing his arms over his chest, he gave Yang and I a grumpy frown. "I'm hungry. Let's go get lunch."

"Don't worry, Heng." Yang smacked my shoulder twice as he stood up. "I'll pry it outta him eventually."

"Leave him alone!" I ordered, leaping to my feet and stuffing my textbook into my backpack. "I'll do it myself!"

"Pretty grouchy, though, isn't he? He's got a nice ass, at least."

"Don't check him out!" I snapped, curling my hands into fists.

"Who has a nice ass, Honey?" a voice interrupted, and I turned to give an upset look to Anna as she came to a stop beside us.

"You do, Love," Yang gushed, hugging her.

"Anna, he just ruined my study date with Zian!" I tattled, feeling like I was about to burst into tears. "Punch him for me!"

"Aw, you poor thing." She immediately slammed her fist into Yang's shoulder.

"Ow! I was just trying to help!" he whimpered.

"Hon, what have I told you about helping people?"

"I dunno…"

"Don't do it," she firmly explained, then slipped her hand into his and started tugging him away, toward the exit. "Let's go before Bai starts eating the table."

Yang let out a snort. "Why would he eat the table when Heng's here?"

Anna's cheeks reddened and she attempted to stifle a laugh as she looked around and whispered, "Shut up, you pervert."

Sulkily, I put on my backpack and stomped along behind them, wishing I'd had more time with Zian. My patience with him was finally starting to get me progress. He'd actually talked to me a little. I'd been planning on asking him for his number, now that he'd gotten a little less cold toward me, but now he probably hated me all over again, all because of stupid Yang.

"You actually like that guy?" Bai skeptically asked, looking up at me as we headed for the library doors.

"Yeah," I replied, blushing a little. "I do."

"He's weird."

"He is," I agreed. "Super weird…and cute."

"I think you should give up," Bai informed, slowing down a little once we'd entered the hallway outside the library. At my annoyed look, he crossed his arms again. "Come on, Heng…He has looks and money, so why the fuck he is single? There has to be something seriously wrong with him."

"He's just really shy," I huffed, looking away.

"Shy?! That guy isn't shy; he has some sort of personality disorder! He avoids everyone like he thinks we're all diseased. Might as well have people-phobia. Whatever it's called. I'm surprised he's even coming to campus to take classes; with all the cash his family has, he could easily buy himself some personal teachers."

"Okay, so he's really, really shy. Maybe he's waiting for someone he really likes to come along…Anyway, I'm not giving up."

Bai let out a sigh. "I just don't want you to end up with another Nuo. Or someone even worse."

"That's why I'm taking it slo-o-ow," I pointed out. "Getting to know him a little first…or at least I would be if you two hadn't interrupted." I bit my lower lip in fear and frustration. "Fucking Yang, telling him I'm bi…What am I gonna do if he's grossed out?"

"Then he's a small-minded jerk, and will miss out on having a great boyfriend like you," Bai calmly answered.

"Great boyfriend," I repeated with a tiny laugh, feeling embarrassed. "You didn't think so."

"That's 'cause I want to date a man, not a kid," he huffed, lifting his chin a little. "Your bulkiness has tricked a lot of women into thinking you're macho, when actually you're a whiny crybaby who likes chick flicks and sweet stuff."

"Well, so-o-orry for being bulky," I grumbled.

"The bulkiness does have its benefits, though. You're really useful for things like reaching high shelves, and opening bottles, and lifting heavy stuff."

"Geeze, thanks for the confidence boost."

He laughed for a moment, and I glanced down, shaking my head and chuckling as well. His smile turned gentle as he looked up again. "You really are great, Heng, and you deserve to be with someone just as great, whether that person is this Princess guy or not."

"I hope he is," I murmured, stuffing my hands into my pockets and grinning.

As the semester continued, I made no progress at all. Nearly every day, I hunted down Zian and invited him to do things like study together, eat lunch, and go out for coffee, but he turned me down every time, his attitude as cold and indifferent as ever. Soon, that moment of adorableness that he'd had in the library was feeling like a distant memory, like something I might have simply imagined.

I was not the only person who was attempting to ask him out, either. It didn't take long for me to—accidentally, of course—witness countless failed invitations from plenty of girls, and the occasional guy, and before midterms had even come, Zian's popsicle-like reputation had become common knowledge.

But I stubbornly didn't give up.

The repeated cycle of rejected invitations continued until the semester was nearly over. Zian had slowly gone from cold and indifferent to cranky and somewhat snappish, although in general he was still as aggravatingly polite and courteous as he ever had been.

Heading to the toilet between classes, I was completely lost as to how I was supposed to get through to him, running through scenario after scenario through my mind as I walked down the hall. Pushing past some guy standing outside the bathroom and ignoring him when he started to say something, I stomped inside. All of those thoughts disappeared as I was filled with anger and alarm at the sight of four guys crowding Zian into a corner by the urinals. The guys immediately whipped their heads around to look at me, and several mumbles of "Shit," were uttered. Zian gave me one glance, then looked down.

"What are you doing?" I demanded, quickly stepping forward.

"Just talking," one of them replied, smiling amiably and lifting his hands.

"Nice place for a conversation," I remarked.

"We were inviting Zian out for drinks this evening," he added, nodding at me. "You should come too."

"I have to work."

"Oh, too bad." He didn't really look like he cared. Stepping back, he stuck his hands half into his pants pockets and looked at Zian again. "We were, ah, hoping he could help us a bit, you know, with the money. Gonna have a big group coming. But Mr. Hot Stuff here is refusing to help. It's not like we were asking for a lot. Just a couple thousand."

My body went hot with anger, and I opened my mouth to yell at him, but Zian's quiet, deep voice cut me off. "As I have said over and over, if you do not even have the money to buy yourself a drink, you should not be drinking in the first place."

"We'd have the money if you'd give us some." Zian pressed himself up against the wall when the guy moved closer again. "Come on, a guy like you has money coming out your ass. A couple thousand is nothing to you, right?"

"I am under no obligation to fund your idiotic parties."

"Hey–!"

"Leave him alone!" I snapped, rushing forward when the guy leaned toward Zian. Squishing myself between them, I glared down at the guy. "He said no, so fuck off!"

A smirk stretched his mouth to one side and he chuckled, lifting himself up on his toes to match my height. "What are you, a fucking knight in shining armor here to rescue Princess?"

Jamming my hand into my pocket, I yanked out my wallet, flipped it open, and pulled out all the bills I had. Shoving them at the guy, I growled, "There's your damn drinking money. Now leave him alone."

He was quiet for a moment, eyes widening slightly as he looked down at the money, then he laughed and slowly took it. "Wasn't so hard, was it? Thanks, Sir Knight." He leaned to one side. "See you in class tomorrow, Princess. Too bad you can't come for drinks." With a smile and a wave, he and his three lackeys left the bathroom and I slowly stepped away from Zian.

Sighing as I glanced down at my empty wallet, I put it back in my pocket. "There goes my lunch." Turning around, I gave Zian a concerned look-over. "You okay?"

"Yes," he quietly replied, his voice edgy.

Nodding, I took a few deep breaths. "You gotta be firmer with guys like that, or they'll walk all over you."

His irritated glance flashed toward me, then away again. "I have been."

"Have been?" I repeated, narrowing my eyes. "Have they harassed you before?"

"It does not matter."

"Hey!" I huffed, grabbing his shoulder when he suddenly moved to walk past me. He gasped faintly and twisted out of my grip, immediately whirling to face me and taking several steps back, looking afraid. In confusion, I lowered my hand. "Why haven't you reported them?"

"That is unnecessary," he snapped, looking even more afraid than before.

"It's not!" I snapped in return, waving a hand at the door. "If you just let them get away with it, they'll never stop! You have to tell someone!"

Inhaling slowly, he shook his head and stood up straighter. "No."

"A bunch of morons mug you in the toilet, and you're just going to let it slide?!"

"I refuse to cause pointless conflict."

Feeling speechless at this guy's stupidity, I attempted to come up with something else to say, but my mind was drawing a blank. What the hell made him think reporting a crime was pointless?

While I was still wondering what to do, he suddenly stuck his hand into his coat and retrieved a wallet. Opening it, he pulled out what looked like all the money he had in there—two five-hundred bills, not nearly as much as I had expected to be in the wallet of a gazillionaire—put his wallet away, then held out the money to me. "What are you doing?" I asked in bewilderment after a moment of silence.

He took a step closer, grabbed my left wrist, twisted my hand to face upward, and dropped the money onto my palm. His hand was surprisingly cold. "Lunch," he explained, letting me go and turning toward the door.

Still extremely confused, I looked between his retreating back and the money several times, then hurried after him. "Does this mean we're eating together?" Had I finally done it? Please say yes…

"No."

…Dammit.

"But then what about your lunch?"

"I am not hungry."

"Hey, come back! I stopped them so you'd get to keep your money! I don't want a reward! Forget about my lunch—I'll just eat at home later! Come ba-a-a-ack!"

As if Zian had suddenly gone deaf, he continued walking away, out of the bathroom and down the hall. I eventually stopped chasing him when a passing professor told me to shut up and quit disturbing classes. Sighing, I looked down at the colorful bills I'd crumpled up in my fist, then looked up again, watching as Zian disappeared around a corner. "What the hell…How stupid can you be?"

After tucking Zian's money safely into my wallet, I went back to the toilet, did my business, and then hurried to the office of one of Zian and my mutual professors. Even if Zian was being a cowardly idiot, I wasn't going to stand by and do nothing while he got pushed around by a bunch of jerks.

Luckily, my professor was in his office, so I gave him a quick explanation of what had happened, and he called the library to send in Zian. The icy look he gave me when he walked in made me a bit scared, but I tried to shake it off when he greeted the professor and they started talking.

"I've been told that you were in a bit of trouble earlier."

"Childish bullying is nothing with which you need concern yourself, Professor," Zian calmly replied.

"Maybe it wasn't anything serious," the professor conceded, "but this is a university, not a kindergarten. Bullying of any sort isn't acceptable here. We have behavioral standards and rules that our students and staff are obligated to follow, and there are consequences for acting unsuitably, which, of course, includes extorting money, so you should have reported them the first time it happened." With a slow exhale, the professor leaned back in his office chair and straightened his gray suit jacket. "I've already heard the basic story, but I'd like to hear your version as well."

Other than becoming a bit red in the face, Zian didn't respond.

Leaning forward again, the professor gave Zian a supportive smile. "I know this is probably embarrassing for you. However, bullying is a lot more common than people would think, even in universities. You're the victim here, and you have nothing to be ashamed of. I just need to hear what happened to you, and who did it." After another long pause, his eyes flicked to me and he gestured toward the door. "Perhaps it would be best if you waited outside."

Clenching my jaw, I reluctantly nodded and half turned toward the door, but Zian quietly told him, "I have nothing to say."

"I understand if this is making you uncomfortable, but it's very important that you tell me," the professor softly continued. "We can stop the people who bullied you from doing it again to you and anyone else they've been targeting. It might be difficult to say, but you would be helping a lot of people."

Zian continued to keep his mouth firmly closed, and eventually the professor leaned back and sighed, nodding. "Alright. If you change your mind, please feel free to come see me and we can sort this out. I'll have to contact your father, but you may leave."

With eyes going wide in what was unmistakably fear, Zian stepped up to the desk and shook his head. "No. There is no need to contact my father about something so trivial."

"I'm sure you'll find it easier to talk to your family about this instead of me."

"Please, do not tell him." His breaths coming in short bursts, Zian twisted the cuff of his black coat around in his trembling hands, shaking his head again. "It will not happen again, I promise. I will not cause any more problems, so please…"

The professor silently stared up at him for a moment, then shook his head. "I'm sorry, but the dean has given me specific instructions. Your father requested that we tell him if anything happens."

"Nothing happened," Zian slowly denied. Although his breathing was leveling out, he was still shaking.

"Getting cornered by four guys who were trying to steal your money doesn't count as 'nothing,'" I cut in, crossing my arms. I didn't know why he was so scared of telling his family about what happened. Maybe his parents were die-hard perfectionists, but hiding it wouldn't do him any good. Even strict parents would care if their kid was being bullied. They'd definitely be able to help.

"I would have handled it," he snapped.

"What, were you planning to silent treatment them to death?! Great! Perfect!"

"Stop it," the professor ordered, giving me a reproving look. Sighing faintly out his nose, he folded his hands together and looked back to Zian. "I have to tell your father…But remember, if you change your mind, please come talk to me." He paused, maybe to give room for Zian to reply. But when no reply was given, he smiled warmly and nodded toward the door. "Thank you for bringing this matter to my attention. You both may leave."

We both thanked the professor, me in relief, Zian in anger, then left. I attempted to talk to Zian after we closed the office door behind us, but I stopped when he threw a furious look at me and walked away without a word. The glare had been so intense I felt a bit scared, wondering if I'd just lost any and all chances at getting to be anything near friends with him, but tried to shake it off; even if Zian felt like I'd humiliated him, I was sure telling the professor had been the right thing to do.

Or so I thought.

The next day, Zian arrived in class with a split lip and a black eye, completely ignored my "Good morning," and plopped himself down in his usual seat. After class I managed to stop him in the hall. I only had ten minutes to get to my next lecture, but this was more important.

"What happened to you?" I demanded.

"None of your business," he snapped, hands tightly gripping the strap of his bag.

Sighing deeply, I glanced around the hall, then looked back at Zian, feeling a prick of anger and fear. "Was it those guys again? Did they find out you and I had gone to see the professor?"

"It was not them," he denied, then stepped around me. "Please excuse me."

"No, I won't excuse you," I huffed, quickly moving to stand in front of him again. Forcing myself to smile, I patted one hand on his arm, but quickly stopped when he flinched. "…You don't have to lie to me," I whispered, moving as close to him as I could, but then I leaned back when his cologne filled my nose. Dammit. He smelled really nice. Now was not the time for nice smells. I had to keep all parts of my mind on the problem at hand.

And also on the raging look of pure anger Zian was stabbing me with.

"Do not call me a liar."

I took a half step back and shook my head. "I didn't."

"Yes, you did."

"Who the fuck else would punch you if it wasn't those lowlifes?"

"It was not them," he repeated.

"Stop lying!"

"I am not LYING!"

I blinked, feeling very startled, while Zian took several deep breaths and looked around. People were staring, probably just as startled as I was to hear him yell, but I tried to ignore them. "We have to go to the professor again."

"No."

"They tried to steal from you, and now they've beat you up! We need to do s–!"

"For the last time, it was not them," he snarled. Slowly that rage on his face faded into a helpless, pleading look. "Please, stop interfering. You are only making things worse."

Although I hated getting shoved to one side like this, I didn't say anything else, and after a few seconds he slowly walked away. A long moment passed as I watched him leave, then I followed suit and headed for my next lecture, trying not to feel annoyed that he wouldn't let me help him. It really pissed me off to know he was getting bullied and I couldn't do anything to stop it…but trying to stop them would only make him dislike me more, for whatever fucking stupid reason.

But I quit sticking my nose into it, like he wanted. As the weeks passed, Zian's face healed, the four guys who bullied him stopped coming to school—I suspected they had been expelled, but didn't know for sure—and the semester ended. After a short break spent working and hanging out with my friends and the little booger brothers of mine, I was back at school again. And so was Zian, much to my relief; I'd been somewhat afraid that the bullying would have made him do as Bai had mentioned—leave school and get his own personal teachers. Seeing him on campus immediately filled me with excitement and that familiar ache of longing. He and I only had one class together, and he acted like he had no idea who I was, but I started up my routine again, chasing him all over when I had nothing better to do, in an attempt to get him to hang out with me, even if all we were doing was homework.

My attempts went just as great as they had last semester.

Feeling very discouraged, I leaned back against the wall, spilling my guts to Yang while he filled an empty water bottle at a drinking fountain. As he released the button and the flow of water ceased, he slowly put the lid on his bottle and hummed thoughtfully, flicking drops of water off his hands. "You need a fresh approach."

I frowned skeptically. "Like what?"

"Li-i-i-i-ike," he began, tugging on my elbow, signaling me to follow him as he stepped away from the fountain, "changing the location of your ambushes. Think about it—you always nag him when he's studying in the library, or leaving, or going to class. If you bug him when he's got other things to do, then duh, he'll be annoyed."

My eyes widened with shock. "That…makes so much sense!" I exclaimed, slapping a thankful hand onto Yang's shoulder.

"Try catching him right after a class, when he's got a break. You've got his whole schedule memorized again, right?"

I reflexively opened my mouth to tell him that I had, but, seeing that his face was twitching in an amused way, I stuffed my hands into my pockets. "He's got a break in…half an hour or so, I think…Might be wrong," I mumbled reluctantly, not wanting to seem like I was completely hopeless.

"Great. Let's go get a snack, and wait for him."

"O-okay," I agreed somewhat hesitantly, nodding. Dragging my finger over the edge of one of the keys in my pocket, I followed him down the hall, absently dodging passerby while I began making a mental list of possible conversation topics I could run through later.

Half an hour later, Yang and I—and several friends who thought my ongoing battle was endlessly entertaining—had positioned ourselves down the hall and around a corner from the library. I had pretended not to know which lecture hall Zian was in, so we had chosen this spot. It wouldn't be weird to "accidentally" bump into Zian here, I nervously assured myself, wondering how he would take my sudden appearance.

He'd probably be annoyed, like always…

I was trying to decide what sort of surprised greeting I should give Zian when Yang nudged me and said, "Here he comes."

Sucking in a great deal of air, I nodded and moved myself right next to the corner, making eye contact with another one of my friends who had been keeping watch from across the hallway. She gave me a grin and extended three fingers down near her thigh. As she folded back one finger, leaving two outstretched, I turned to step out into the hallway, suddenly feeling somewhat silly for going to such lengths just to talk to a guy.

A guy who had never made any sign that he even wanted to talk to me.

Doubt and embarrassment kept me from moving when my friend's countdown had ended. I was about to turn around and pretend to talk to Yang rather than pop out at Zian, but all the sudden many pairs of hands shoved on my back, and out I popped anyway.

I felt like everything was moving in slow motion, letting me catch every agonizing, tiny detail, to remember over and over and over for the rest of my miserable life.

My feet got tangled up when I stumbled around the corner, failing to stop myself before Zian, who was unfortunately a lot closer than I had expected, became quite intimately acquainted with my chest. The look of extreme surprise he had was permanently imprinted in my mind, though I only saw it for a split second before it disappeared when he crashed into me, and promptly toppled over backward.

The horror that had filled me kept me from even trying to grab him as he went down.

The books Zian had been carrying, his bag, and, of course, Zian himself fell to the shiny linoleum floor with several loud thumps.

The whole hallway had gone quiet.

My hand had reflexively shot upward to cover my mouth, and I fought to keep myself from laughing. I felt terrible for even wanting to; part of me found this to be extremely funny, but the rest of me knew without a doubt that this was the end. Anything that I might have managed to build between Zian and I had just been obliterated.

The laughter soon started. It was so loud, it was like the whole university had seen him fall. The tiny part of me that had wanted to join in vanished immediately when Zian slowly looked up. Two bright pink splotches had appeared on his cheeks, and they were spreading fast.

If looks could kill, I was pretty sure my entire existence would have been wiped from the face of the earth.

Shaking in fear, I stepped toward him when he began to gather up his scattered belongings. "I—I'm so…Oh my god, I'm so sorry…I d-didn't…I'm so sorry," I helplessly sputtered, crouching down to get one of his books for him. His thin, pale hand shot out and grabbed it before I could.

"Are…are you okay?" I anxiously asked, twisting my fingers together.

Standing, he put his bag back on his shoulder and wordlessly stepped around me, clutching his books to his chest. His whole face was an alarmingly dark shade of red. I thought about following him, flattening myself to the floor, begging for his forgiveness, perhaps even telling him he could humiliate me in whatever way he wanted, to make us even.

But, as if paralyzed, I stayed where I was, not even watching as he walked away. People were still laughing long after he had gone.

As if time was trying to make up for all of the slow-motion from earlier, the next few moments went by in a confusing blur of people's laughter turning to screams, pain in my fist, and Yang's bloodied nose. Feeling hot drops of angry, frustrated tears running down my face, I turned away from Yang's stunned expression and hurried down the hall, leaving the mess behind.

It was probably a stupid, childish choice, but I left campus early. The tears eventually stopped, but the dismal feeling twisting inside me stayed. Stopping at my little brother's daycare, I stormed inside, snapped at them to get their stuff, then stormed back to the car, not caring that the daycare staff were giving me alarmed glances. When the triplets had gotten in and buckled up, I drove us all home.

The rest of the afternoon passed in furious silence. I did my chores in an attempt to distract myself, but that didn't work at all. Giving up on washing the dishes after I threw a mug into the sink and broke it in half, I shut off the water and sat down at the table, putting my face in my hands and gritting my teeth.

Calm down, I ordered myself. Calm down, calm down, calm down, ca-a-a-alm do-o-o-o-own.

It wasn't working.

"Dàgē?"

"What?" I answered, not managing to keep the edge out of my voice. Lowering my hands, I frowned irritably at the doorway, where all three of my brothers were peering nervously at me from around the edge of the door frame.

"C-could…you get, um…House…of Fury down for us…?" Er asked, speaking softly and looking as though he wished he hadn't spoken at all.

"In a minute." I put my head back in my hands.

"And get us a snack, too?" Yi added hopefully.

"I SAID IN A FUCKING MINUTE!" I abruptly bellowed, "SO SHUT UP AND QUIT NAGGING ME! GOD, WHY DON'T YOU JUST GET IT YOURSELF?! YOU'RE NOT BABIES ANYMORE! GIVE ME A DAMN BREAK FOR ONCE! I'M TIRED OF WAITING HAND AND FOOT ON YOU THREE!"

The silence was so loud. My eyes began to burn with tears of shame. I slowly lowered my hands to the table, and was about to apologize for taking out my anger on them, but Yi gave me a tear-stained frown and snapped, "Never mind," as he stomped away, up the stairs. Er and San, both crying and looking scared, hurried after him.

I listened to their bedroom door shut, then miserably began to sob as I stared at the empty doorway. Perhaps in a want not to make me any angrier, the triplets made no more noise; the whole house felt abandoned. I plopped my head down on my crossed arms and let myself cry.

I hadn't realized how tired I'd been until I woke up, stiff-necked and puffy-eyed, at about a quarter to nine. The stress from work, school, and three kids was so hard to handle. Every day, it was all I could do to keep myself from giving up. Sometimes, I wanted to so badly…I wanted to throw it all away and not worry about all this shit. I didn't want to be me anymore.

A suffocating amount of self-pity settled over me as I stared at the doorway, still empty.

Dark and empty.

The whole house.

Silent, dark, and empty.

No one awake but me.

Waiting, and waiting, and waiting…

"Is this Shi Heng?" that voice had asked on the other end of the telephone four years ago. Quiet, but firm and purposeful. The sort of voice that made you feel nervous, as if you'd gotten in trouble at school and were having your transgressions laid out in front of you.

But the voice hadn't scolded me.

Instead, it had told me exactly what I'd been waiting to hear all that evening.

That damned, nightmarish evening.

Waiting and waiting in a silent, dark, empty house.

Waiting for them to come home.

Waiting for my dad to come marching in the door and smile, telling me how sorry he was for being late, telling me about the terrible traffic that had delayed him, or perhaps that he'd gotten caught up at work, or that he'd stopped somewhere along the way. And my mom would follow, pulling me into a hug and asking me if I'd gotten along alright alone with the triplets, if everything was okay, if I'd had dinner yet.

But they wouldn't come home, not anymore.

They were never coming home, no matter how long I waited.

They were dead and I had to take their place.

I had to grow up and get over it.

There was nothing else I could do but grow up and get over it.

Struggling to breathe, I looked away from the empty doorway, gaping wide as if it was going to swallow me. Fumbling with my pocket for a moment, I quickly dialed Bai's number and absently pressed one thumb to my lips, then started lightly chewing on it. For no reason in particular, I bit the tip so hard I started bleeding, but I didn't care. Bai answered after a few rings, and judging by the cheerful voices in the background he was at a party or a bar or something, but I didn't care. "Can you come over?" I asked, my voice hoarse and weak. I'd started crying again at some point. But I didn't care. "Please?"

"Yeah," Bai replied, sounding worried, then he immediately hung up.

Dropping my phone on the table, I stood and wandered over to the fridge. Opening the cupboard next to it, I shoved some things out of the way, and then pulled out the tall, thin bottle I'd hidden in the far back. Tequila. Someone had given it to me last year on my eighteenth birthday. Not being much of a drinker, I had put it away and had almost forgotten about it.

I managed to drink half the bottle before Bai hurried into my house, his hair and clothing somewhat rumpled as if he'd ran the whole way here. "Hi," I greeted from the floor, smiled brightly up at him, then burst into tears yet again, overwhelmingly relieved that I wasn't alone anymore.

Bai let out a sigh and walked into the kitchen, crouching down beside me. "Good grief…" he mumbled, frowning. "What happened?"

Pressing my lips together, I looked down at the blurry neck of the bottle I had clutched tightly in my hand. "I think…I got drunk."

"No, really?" he exclaimed. Even with my mind all tippy, I heard the sarcasm.

The corners of my mouth went downward. "Y-you don't have to be mean!" I snapped, turning myself away from him.

"Sorry." He sighed again. "Is this about what happened earlier?"

"I think he hates me now," I sadly told him, fat tears dripping off my chin.

"He's your best friend," Bai assured, gently patting my shoulder. "He'll forgive you. Eventually."

"I don't mean him!" I corrected, angrily shrugging off the hand. I had a very strong urge to get in my car, drive to Yang's apartment, and beat him up. But, the tiny shreds of rationality I still had kept me in place.

"Oh, you mean Princess." Bai's voice was irritated. He whispered something.

"What'd you say?" I demanded, whirling around.

Bai blinked, looking startled. "I…Nothing. I…I'm sure he doesn't hate you."

"He does," I insisted. A sob popped out, and I felt another one coming. I tried to drown it with a swallow of the liquor, but it came out anyway. "He was so mad, but I…I tried…Now he'll never talk to me again. Why does it never work?! What's wrong?!" With a burst of anger, I threw the tequila bottle. Rather than shattering as I hoped it would, it bounced off the wall with a loud clang, and dropped to the wood floor intact, dumping what was left of the clear liquid all over.

"I told you that you should give up," Bai reminded harshly.

I glanced at his face, then looked down at the floor and shook my head. "But I like him."

"Look what he's doing to you." There was a soft rustling as Bai moved closer. His hands felt hot as he took hold of my head and gently tilted it back, so he could look me in the eye. "You're a fucking mess!"

"I've been a mess…a lot longer than he's been around," I slowly pointed out. I could see the doorway in my peripheral vision, and I turned the other way, feeling frightened.

"But he's not making you any better," he retorted, then suddenly looked just as miserable as me.

Swallowing hard, I blinked away a fresh set of tears and shook my head again. A ragged breath tore at my chest. "I just…wanted it to work this time…I wanted it to work…Why doesn't it ever fucking work? Why do they always leave?! They always leave…Even you."

Bai opened his mouth, but then closed it again soon after. With a helpless look, he dropped to his knees and leaned forward. The warmth of his body pressed against me as he gave me a steadying hug. Trying not to shake too hard, I hugged him back. It felt so soothing to be able to touch someone again. To have someone so close. To not be alone.

The nostalgic smell of Bai's perfume permeated the dizzy fog in my head, and I leaned toward it, closing my eyes and burying my nose in his soft hair. I tightened my grip on him and felt his heart pound. My chest felt tight as the past came back.

The cute smile he had the first time I'd seen him.

The slight sweatiness of his hand the first time I'd dared to hold it.

The quiet whispers we'd exchanged, admitting we were both scared.

The shy look on his face the first time we'd kissed.

The nervous shuddering of his body the first time we'd had sex.

The frustrated arguments that had followed the happy beginning.

The angry tears that had rimmed his eyes when we broke up.

The cold silence between us afterward.

The awkward greetings we'd finally forced out several months later.

The surprisingly friendly conversations we'd had when a year had passed.

"Heng."

I opened my eyes and leaned my head back against the fridge. Bai stared questioningly at me, looking like he was trying to smile, then lifted his soft hands and wiped the tears off my face. Depression pressed down on me even harder as memories of him continued to roll through my mind. We had met not long after my parents had died. I had gotten so attached to him, I thought that I loved him, so much that I had been convinced he was the one I wanted to be with forever. But everything had fallen apart between us so easily. We had eventually gotten to be friends again—very, very good friends—but I still felt kind of sad whenever I thought about how we'd been before.

And I was so afraid that the same thing would happen between Zian and I.

Well, the same thing, minus the friends part.

What if he would never speak to me again?

What if he did, but nothing ever came of it?

What if we started dating, but fell apart just as fast as Bai and I had?

What the fuck was the point of all this…

"I wanna go to bed," I mumbled, then wondered if I would be able to make it up the stairs.

"Bed?" Bai echoed, obviously taking it in a way I hadn't meant it. The look on his face was somewhat complicated. I kinda wanted to kiss him. No, I really wanted to kiss him. I didn't think he would stop me. After all, he was the one who had told me to call him if I was feeling lonely.

When I didn't say anything, he gave me a resigned but not unwilling smile. There was a brief second in which I thought about telling him no. But then it was gone. I opened my mouth and let him in, pulling him against me. His familiar kisses made me feel even more light-headed, but in a good way. Soon I had his jacket off. Then his shirt. Then he was under me and his pants were undone, pulled off, laying on the floor across the room, completely forgotten.

For a moment, he was mine again.

I woke the next morning in bed with a horrible headache and a bad taste in my mouth. With fuzzy memories of last night playing through my throbbing skull, I looked to one side and groaned, slapping a hand over my eyes as Bai came into view, asleep and snuggled underneath my red sheets. Rolling to the edge of the bed, I forced myself to get up. I glanced at the clock as I put on some boxers.

Two minutes past five.

I had forgotten to set my alarm, but I was so used to waking up at this time that it didn't even matter.

Unsteadily stumbling across the room, I ignored the wooziness and went into the hall. As quietly as I could, I peeked into the triplets' bedroom—they were still asleep—then went to the bathroom, took a shower, took some medicine for my hangover, and went back to my bedroom to get dressed.

Part of me hoped that Bai had left while I'd been washing up, or perhaps that him being here had just been a bad dream. But there he was, still snoozing away in my bed. Guilt pounded through me, even stronger than my headache. Zian and I certainly weren't doing anything close to dating, but I still felt as though I had cheated on him in some way.

I sat down on the edge of the bed and gently shook Bai's shoulder until he woke up. One bleary eye peeked at me through the messy strands of brown hair, then he rolled over and smashed his face into a pillow. "What, no breakfast in bed?"

"Not unless you make it."

"I'll get right on that." He yawned and stretched, but didn't get up. I flopped myself down next to him. His face eventually emerged from the pillow, and he gave me a worried look. "You okay?"

I came very close to crying for the millionth time. "No," I told him, then sighed and stared up at the ceiling. I felt even worse than yesterday, albeit I was calmer now. "I'm sorry," I whispered.

"That is one of the worst things you could ever say to someone after sleeping with them," he growled, sounding offended. I was worried, but then he laughed faintly. The bed moved when he sat up and leaned over me. "I knew what I was doing last night when I came over. So don't apologize, you big dope." He dipped down to give me a quick, light kiss on my cheek, and I felt a little bit better. With a tired noise, he dropped himself onto the sheets again and we both fell silent.

After a couple minutes went by, I decided, "I'm going to tell him that I like him."

Bai propped himself up on one hand.

"If he agrees," I continued, unsure, "then…well, then he agrees."

"And if he doesn't?" Bai asked softly.

Exhaling out my nose, I looked back up at the ceiling. "Then…nothing. I'll give up. He'll be one less thing I need to worry about, and fucking crappish hell, I've got more than enough shit to worry about."

Bai let out another little laugh, nodded, and slowly crawled out of bed. "I guess I'll keep you from having to worry about something else, and leave before they wake up."

"That would be nice," I agreed, grimacing at the thought of the triplets coming in to find Bai naked in my bed, his clothes all over the kitchen, and having to try to explain why. They had known about Bai and I dating, of course—I told the boogers everything—but since they had only been two years old at the time, I had left out certain details that two year olds had no business knowing about.

Six year olds had no business knowing about that stuff either, so I got up as quickly as my hangover would allow and went downstairs to clean the kitchen. After mopping up the spilled tequila, I walked Bai to the door, then stopped him and gave him an apologetic look. "I really am sorry about last night," I quietly repeated, pulling him into a hug. "It won't happen again." Leaning back, I hastily added, "Nothing personal, I just…Well, you…You're my best friend, not a call girl, and I'm an asshole for treating you like one."

His startled face slowly became amused, and he nodded. "Okay," he answered. Hugging me again, he murmured, "I hope it goes well," then let me go and left. My breath stopped when the door closed, leaving me alone in the dark hallway.

All of the long nights I had spent staring at this door shoved everything else out of my mind.

"Grow up and get over it," I mumbled to myself, wondering if that was even possible.

Yanking my head back into the present, I hurried back into the kitchen, opened the window, sprayed some air freshener in a hope that the smell of alcohol would go away, then went upstairs and sneaked into the triplets' room. It was almost six, the time they always woke up. Sitting down by the edge of the bunk bed they took turns using, I stared morosely at Er, who was softly snoring in the lower bunk.

Last night hadn't been the first time I had lost my patience and yelled at them.

I knew it definitely wasn't the last either.

But they were all I had left.

Extending a hand, I touched his soft, squishy cheek, smiling as I gave it a light pinch and stretched it out as far as I could, giggling at the sight. Swatting at my hand, he let out a whimpering noise and his eyes opened. When he saw it was me, he gasped and jumped, then slowly rubbed his face. "Geeze, Dàgē! Don't do-o-o-o tha-a-a-at!"

"C'mere, you," I murmured, grabbing him by the arms and dragging him out of his covers. He protested loudly, fighting to cover his stomach and armpits—the places I usually targeted. However, rather than tickling him, I hugged him with an almost fierce intensity. "I'm really, really, really sorry about yesterday."

"You were a big jerk," Er told me, sounding like he was still mad.

"Yeah, I was," I agreed, giving the side of his head a kiss. "I just have a lot going on…but that doesn't mean I'm allowed to yell like that. So, I'm very sorry."

"I'll think about forgiving you if you make pancakes," he bartered, staring at me with narrowed eyes and crossed arms. "And let us eat whatever we want for dinner."

"Deal. Shake on it." I held out a hand. Giving me a smile, he firmly grabbed my hand and shook it up and down, hard. I took the opportunity to tickle his exposed armpit, and he let out a shriek, immediately curling up on himself. The loud sound stabbed into my poor head like a knife, but I ignored my pain and effortlessly straightened him back out, put my knee across his thighs, holding them down, then took both his wrists and pinned them to the floor over his head. Screaming his head off, already red-faced, he fought hard against me, but it was no use; I continued to tickle him.

The other two soon emerged from their beds—Yi from the single bed on the opposite wall, and San from the top bunk—and told us both to shut up, which I translated into "Please, tickle us too," so I did. After several hours filled with tickle fights, apologies, pancakes, and a car ride, I was back at school, warily staring up at the buildings dotting the pretty campus.

Zian first, or Yang?

The guy who I wanted to finally ask out, or my best friend who I punched yesterday?

My stomach hurt at the thought of seeing either of them.

In the end, I decided on class first. Afterward, I stopped at the vending machines, bought a bag of Yang's favorite spicy potato chips and a bottle of his favorite orange soda, tracked him down to where he was sitting outside, dumped the food in his lap, then ran away without an explanation.

Zian was harder to find. And even when I had found him that afternoon in the library, he looked straight through me as if I wasn't there at all, and made no sign he heard anything I was saying to him.

This extreme case of the silent treatment lasted a week before he finally spoke to me again. He and I were leaving our class, and I fell into step beside him. "I know you're probably gonna ignore me again, but I'll keep saying it 'til you don't: I'm sorry for what happened." He didn't bat an eyelash at my millionth apology, just as I expected. "Do you wanna get coffee with me after school?"

I had asked him this same exact question at least once a day for the past two semesters. Prior to what happened in the hall last week, he had always turned me down with that extremely annoying polite smile and a quiet, "No, thank you." After what happened last week, he had always turned me down by pretending I didn't exist.

This time, he gave me an angry glance and said very sharply, "I do not need it."

I was so surprised he'd replied that I almost tripped, but managed to recover. "How about tea instead?"

"I do not need it."

"Smoothie?"

"I do not need it."

"How about we get some soda from the vending machines?"

"I do not need it."

"How about we walk to the fucking drinking fountain?!"

"I do not need it!"

Stopping, I glared at his back while he continued without me down the hallway. My patience with him had run out. "This is why you don't have any friends!" I angrily called after him, wanting very much to hurt him and make him as mad as I was. "Everyone hates you 'cause you're such an asshole all the time!"

He finally stopped. I took several shallow breaths, suddenly remembering I was supposed to be trying to make him like me, and wished I hadn't been mean. My heartbeat accelerated with fear when he turned to look back. Surprisingly, he didn't look angry. His face was blank and cold. He looked so miserable.

Blank, cold, dark, empty, alone…That damned doorway.

Maybe he'd always been waiting, just like me.

He walked back to me, then opened his bag. Quickly sticking his hand inside, he pulled out a large thermos that had a famous painting I couldn't remember the name of printed on the outside. He grabbed my hand just like he had that time in the bathroom, and put the thermos on my palm.

"I…do not…need it," he repeated yet again, giving me a very annoyed frown before turning around and continuing on his trek to the library.

Staring down in extreme bewilderment at the thermos, I attempted to decide what the hell he'd just done. It took me longer than it should have to put it together: He didn't want any drinks from me…because he'd had this already.

"What the hell?" I whispered to myself, looking up. Zian was far, far away already. Dammit, why had I yelled at him? The idiotic blockhead had completely misunderstood. And so had I. But why the hell hadn't he just told me he had something to drink already? Why the hell did he have to be so fucking confusing?

Holding the thermos tightly in both hands, I took a few deep breaths, then began following him again. When I caught up to him in the library, he gave me a very aggravated glance before sitting down at the same table he always did. "Please, leave me alone," he begged.

Ignoring his request, I sat down across from him and put his thermos down on top of the table. "I wasn't asking you if you were thirsty," I explained, completely exasperated. When he gave me a mildly surprised look, wordlessly telling me that he really was thinking stupid things, I really, really wanted to hit him.

But I didn't.

"I was…" I began, fidgeting nervously and fighting to find the right words. "I was asking you…if you wanted to hang out…You know, spend time together to get to know you better. I'd like to be friends with you."

Looking slightly less annoyed, Zian let out a long sigh, leaned back, and ran his eyes over the bookshelves. As always, we were alone in this distant corner of the library, far from the computers and study groups. All of the books here muffled all the noise coming from the other end of the room.

"Perhaps, somehow I have not been making myself clear," Zian said after a pause, his voice calm again. He sat up straight, folded his hands over the top of the table and smiled in that polite way. He looked like a middle-aged businessman when he did that. It was weird, but I listened closely, very eager for him to be candid at last. "I am attending this university to earn my degree."

When he fell silent, I nodded, wondering why he was stating something so obvious.

"I am not here to spend time with anyone," he continued, that polite smile never faltering. "I am not here to make friends. I am not here to go out for coffee. I am here to study, nothing else, and I would greatly appreciate it if you would remember that. Now, please excuse me, I have some books to return."

Furrowing my eyebrows, I watched as he picked up a stack of books, stood, and walked toward the shelves. "It's not like you won't have time to study if you make a friend," I pointed out, getting up and following him. "A big part of college is socializing. Lotsa people get, like, life-long friends when they go to college. And friends make stuff lots more fun!"

"Socializing with the people here is completely unnecessary, a waste of my time," he replied flatly, turning the books to look at the stickers on their spines.

"We're not a waste of time!" I snapped, speaking louder than I had intended in my frustration. When he gave me a very librarian-ish look, I made a face at him before he turned back around. Following him again as he began replacing the books, I crossed my arms. "You don't have to be such a jerk about hanging out with me."

"There are countless more students with whom you may spend your time."

"But I wanna spend it with you!" When he paused to put a book away, I stood as close to him as I dared, and took a deep, shuddering breath, deciding to just get it out. "I…I mean that like…going out. Like…out on a date…I like you," I finally blurted, feeling my face start to burn with embarrassment.

Shock burst out on his face when he slid the book into place and turned to look at me. For several long seconds, he simply stared at me, making me even more embarrassed. What felt like a million years later, he opened his mouth and took a slow breath. "That…" he whispered, his expression softening into a faint smile.

My heart nearly stopped.

Oh, shit. He was going to say yes.

"…was a wonderful performance."

Oh, shit. No he wasn't.

"I must admit, for a very brief moment I almost thought you were being sincere." His smile had twisted itself back into his usual look of anger, and he hurried away from me.

Shaking with anger and terror, I nearly ran after him. "I am being sincere," I insisted, wanting to scream it at him, but keeping my voice at the proper level for a library.

"Are you?" He startled me when he whirled around so abruptly that I almost walked right into him. "And how were you expecting me to react to this sincerity?" he inquired. "Did you think I would be happy? Did you think I would cry with joy upon hearing your feelings?" My breath caught in my throat when he moved his face closer to mine. He smelled like peppermints. "Perhaps I would be so happy that I would completely forget our surroundings and throw myself into your arms." He moved even closer. "Or even give you a kiss."

I was both relieved and disappointed when he pulled away from me, the anger on his face fading. "And then tomorrow I would come to class and find that everyone is talking about Min Zian, the promiscuous homosexual who preys on men in the library. Here is proof: Video footage of Zian flirting with another student! Everyone knows Zian never studies when he goes to the library. After all, there is no need for him to study; why, it is common knowledge that he is sleeping with his professors to get those good grades." He looked around, as if really expecting my friends to be hiding behind the shelves, with video cameras in their hands. "Well, I apologize most profusely for being such a disappointment, but I am not going to give you the reaction for which you and your friends were hoping. I am beyond tired of being used as a target for your jokes."

"I am being sincere," I repeated, raising a hand to put on his arm and stop him from walking away.

He stepped out of reach, glaring up at me. "Have you and your friends really nothing at all better to do than harass me every day?"

"I'm not harassing you!" I denied angrily. "And my friends have nothing to do with this!"

For the first time, he let out a faint sound that resembled a laugh. I had wanted to hear him laugh for so long. Over the months, I had completely exhausted my store of stupid, corny jokes in an attempt at getting even a chuckle out of him, but had only earned myself a few polite smiles. Finally, I'd heard it—sort of—at the worst possible time, when he was finally speaking as much as any normal person…and all he was telling me was how much he hated my guts.

Be careful what you wish for.

"I'm telling the truth."

"Oh, of course," he agreed in a monotone, then turned began walking away again.

"I am," I snapped, stepping in front of him. He moved to one side in an attempt to walk past me, but I shot my arm out and blocked the rest of the aisle. His eyes went wide when I put my other hand on the other side of him, trapping him up against the shelf. I paused to get my breath back, and stared down at him in slight confusion. He looked so tired up close, too thin, too pale, too dark around the eyes. He had a faint scar above his right eyebrow that I hadn't noticed before. I suddenly felt bad for trapping him here…but he would have run away if I hadn't, so whatever.

Letting out a slow breath, I smiled. "I really am," I said as gently as I could. "I don't blame you for being suspicious of me, and I know…you're really mad at me for what happened, but I swear I didn't mean to do that, and I hope you can forgive me, and…and be my friend…and someday, maybe something else."

He kept his frightened gaze stuck to the books he had clutched in his arms.

"Do you believe me?" He shook his head, and I sighed faintly. "Well, I'm not lying."

I had said it. Over and over and over again, I had finally told him. It felt really good to have let him know, even if he didn't believe me. That twisty feeling in my stomach unraveled a little.

Nearly a minute went by, and I started considering telling him to just forget it. However, he finally looked up. That fearful, angry expression was gone. He simply stared at me, as if giving me an inspection. "You're really not?" he pressed, and I shook my head. When he seemed to relax slightly, hope rose up again, but I beat it down, refusing to let myself expect anything from him.

"I am very flattered," he began in a tone I'd heard from people before, and I knew I had finally accurately predicted what he was going to say, "but I cannot date you. I apologize."

Nodding hard, as if trying to nod away the disappointment, I forced a smile onto my face and finally put my arms down. "Are…are you already dating someone?"

"No," he replied.

"Then is it 'cause I'm a guy?"

He blinked in a surprised way. "It has nothing to do with you personally."

I wanted to demand to know why he wouldn't date me if he was single and didn't care about my gender, but kept it to myself. He had already rejected me, and I wasn't going to go down like a desperate loser. I had told Bai I would accept it, and so I would. Even if it really, really hurt.

"Okay," I breathed, struggling to keep smiling. I took a step back and stuffed my hands into my pockets.

"I really am sorry," Zian said, looking like he actually meant it, not like he was just saying it to be nice.

"Don't," I begged, "please just…don't."

He took a breath, as if to say something, but nodded and kept silent. His arms tightened around those books he was still holding.

"Would it be okay if I…um…came by the library every once and a while?" I asked, but then started shaking my head when he looked up. "I mean, just to say hello. I won't get in the way of your studying anymore."

"Come all you like," he offered, raising an eyebrow. "But I will not be here."

My eyes went wide in sudden fear as Bai's remark from last semester came back to me. Zian had started to walk away again. "Are you leaving school?!" I demanded, falling into step behind him.

"Of course not," he denied, sounding annoyed. "However, it has become obvious that the library is not a place in which I can concentrate."

"You don't have to go that far to avoid me!" I snapped, feeling even more hurt than before.

Sighing, he glanced at me as he put away another book. "You are not the only one who interrupts me," he informed. Spikes of jealousy I had no right to feel stabbed through me and made me even angrier, but before I could ask for details, he added, "Also…would it not be easier for you to forget if I was no longer here?" His face had turned a light shade of pink.

Dammit…why did he have to pick now to finally be nice to me? That jerk.

Still, I felt relieved that I'd get to see him in class. Relieved that I'd finally told him. Relieved I'd finally gotten an answer. Relieved I would have an excuse not to do this anymore.

Zian had put all the books back. With footsteps almost too quiet to hear, he came back down the aisle, paused briefly to say "I hope you have a nice afternoon," in his aggravatingly polite tone, then walked away. I stayed where I was, watched as he gathered up his things from the table, then disappeared from view. After a few moments, I went back to the table, my eyes going wide when I saw that he'd left that thermos. Looking up, I reached out to grab it and give it back to him, but he was already gone.

Sighing, I sat down in the chair he'd always sat in, pulled the thermos over to myself, and curiously unscrewed it. Steam curled through the opening at the top, and the smell of peppermint filled the air.

So, he liked mint tea, I thought, pointlessly wishing I'd known that a long time ago. Putting the cap back on, I stood and picked it up, holding it in my hands and admiring the blues and greens and whites that were splashed across the surface. I thought about giving it to the library's Lost and Found and telling them exactly whose it was, but…

Zian couldn't have missed it when he was leaving.

He had left it there on purpose.

Pursing my lips, I tightened my grip on the thermos and left the library.

The remaining three years spent at the university went by in a flash. I worked, went to class, studied, and had a few relationships that didn't last long. Zian and I didn't speak to one another since that afternoon in the library, though I hadn't been able to stop myself from staring at him whenever he'd been around. Nothing around him ever changed; he always stayed by himself, and no one ever tried to get close to him. A mutual exchange of snubbing I would never understand.

But, once he and I graduated—perhaps it had been Zian's influence on me, but I had upped my time spent studying and as a result had made it into the top ten percent of my graduating class—I had no more chances to ponder such things. My busy school years may have finally been over, but I still had my younger brothers to take care of, and a job to find. I tried to pretend that the enigma that was Min Zian became a thing of the past, since that was probably how he saw me, but even after two years, I couldn't help but be filled with nostalgia whenever I saw his thermos sitting in my cupboard at home.

Perhaps it was that nostalgia, then, that gave me the crazy idea to send my résumé to his family's company, for several open positions at the main branch here in P City. I knew Zian worked there—his information was on the airline's website. But even if he hadn't worked there, the positions were all good, with nice starting salaries, which easily justified my decision.

I was called in for an interview for the position in Accounting.

And then a second interview.

And then I received a call stating I got the job.

When I went in for orientation, I felt winded and confused, as if I had done a belly-flop into the past. Everything I thought I had forgotten about immediately came rushing back to me with a firm handshake, a polite smile, and Zian's soft greeting of "Congratulations on your admittance to the company."