Chapter 20: The Hidden Devil Makes a Discovery and The Innocent Boy Becomes a Chauffeur.

Changmin came to Minho's classroom to know whether Minho would skip the staff meeting after school. Changmin only went to those types of meetings if Minho were there. At least, the two could occasionally talk to each other.

Changmin wasn't astounded to see Minho finish his lunch at the end of the day. Minho never seemed to have time to eat until then. "I'm surprised you don't have an ulcer by now," Changmin taunted when entering the room.

Minho, with his mouth half full, retorted, "You're just jealous that I have something to eat right now."

"You read my mind, psychic," Changmin muttered. He enviously watched Minho devour a small octopus and then his eyes trailed to examine the other parts of the meal: fried eggs, rice balls, sausages. They were all positioned in the same way as the ones in Miyun's lunch box. "D-did you make these yourself?" Changmin pryingly wondered.

Minho shook his head and scoffed, "No! I only made the eggs."

"Then, who made all the other stuff?" Changmin persisted and marched to the piece of evidence.

"Does it really matter?" Minho asked back and used his chopsticks to pick up the eggs.

Changmin nodded, "Of course, it matters. I want Jaejoong to learn these tricks."

"Then, he'll have to learn from my sister," Minho replied before stuffing his mouth with food.

"Since when did you have a sister?" Changmin's eyebrows creased together.

Minho answered in between his munches, "For a while now."

Changmin found it odd of Minho to have a sister. Minho was the sort that loved sharing his family's stories, but he never mentioned a sister. "She's a nice sister then, cooking for you," Changmin finally said a compliment.

"She's a good kid," Minho assertively remarked and then wiped his mouth with a napkin.

Changmin immediately took this chance, "Now, let me try the goods." Without Minho's agreement, Changmin had already snatched the chopsticks that Minho had placed on top of his food and picked at some of the egg. Changmin's impeccable speed made Minho dumbfounded, and the by the time, Minho could think, Changmin was already gulping down the chewed food. "They're hell good, Minho! I never knew you had talent in that area," Changmin stridently announced. "Now, let me try the sausage." Again, Minho could only watch the carnivorous-like friend devour his lunch. No one could stop a hungry Changmin.

With one taste, Changmin knew who the chef was. The distinctive use of mozzarella cheese and a spicy paste of jalapeno sauce lightly smothered on the sausage gave away the chef's identity. What a small world, Changmin thought. He then understood why Minho never bothered bringing up the topic of siblings. It would have been extremely awkward for Minho, especially with his occupation.

"Changmin," Minho interrupted Changmin's thoughts. "If you like my lunches so much, then you can always have them every day, starting from tomorrow."

Changmin pondered, "Since when were you this generous?"

Minho chuckled, "Don't worry. I'm not asking you for a favour."

"Then, why are you giving me good food all of a sudden?" Changmin probed.

"It's better this way," Minho carefully explained. "It's . . . the least I could do."

Changmin knew that this was not a message for him. It was a message for her and for Minho. The hopeless pause and the careful phrasing of Minho's sentence revealed this answer.

Junsu was fifteen minutes early, waiting in his car at the teacher's parking lot.He had finally managed to convince Nayoung to let him pick her up from school every day. To persuade her, of course, he had used his ultimate move: puppy eyes. No one could resist what he deemed, the Junsu puppy eyes. All he needed to do was to open his eyes widely and then to jut out his bottom lip in a pouty manner. His signature move had a 90% accuracy rate and he was sure of that number because he kept track of all statistics related to games and sports.

Now, he was only concerned with time. He had scrupulously planned everything from the time he would arrive at her classroom to what he would wear. Every minute or so, he would look at his cell phone for the time. When it was six minutes away from 3:15, he casually opened the car door, closed it, and beeped the remote to lock it. He felt confident in his white suit, despite Changmin's reminder of Junsu's resemblance to a ghost or a wannabe groom. Thus, Junsu walked at a steady face, ignoring anything to his left or right. All that mattered was his destination, which was her classroom.

With his impeccable timing, he had arrived there with a minute to spare till the bell. He stood at the side of the door and waited. He kept rehearsing his lines in his mind. Hello, hello, hello. Ready to go? Ready to go? Ready to go? You look good today. Argh, no, no, no! Nayoung looked good every day, so he had to change that statement to . . .

The doors had opened, unleashing a bunch of school girls, who pushed and shoved to run off to their lockers. So, everyone still hated school, Junsu thought. Unfortunately for him, a few girls had stayed behind to ask Nayoung some questions about homework. They were the ones that had noticed his presence. One feisty girl chirped in a ghastly tune, "Ms Kang! Who's that? Is that your BOYFRIEND?"

Junsu bashfully blushed, but still proudly confirmed, "Yes, I'm her boyfriend." He then walked towards her and calmly put his arm around her shoulder.

She, however, shrugged her shoulder and suggested, "Why don't you girls run along now? My friend and I need to talk."

"Okay, Ms. Kang!" a bubbly girl chimed.

Finally, a quiet-looking girl wearing pig-tails uttered and handed a pen to her, "Ms. Kang, could you please sign my absent note?"

"Ah, yes," Nayoung used the pen offered to her and scribbled her initials on the paper. "There you go."

"Thank you," the student bowed and ran off.

When the room was at last empty, except for Junsu and Nayoung, Nayoung grimly harked, "Babe, I don't mean to hurt you or anything, but I thought . . . I thought I told you that I wanted this relationship to be kept as low-key as possible." Now, she was the one that had an innocent, doe-like look, which made Junsu's heart shrivel. Why was he always making her upset? Why wasn't anything working the way he had planned?

His hoarse voice croaked, "I . . . I forgot. I d-didn't . . .mean to hurt you." Junsu loathed the sound of his own voice; it was as if someone had harshly scratched a violin's strings, creating a screechy racket.

Sensing Junsu's disheartened state, Nayoung gave him an affectionate hug and pressed her head against his shoulder. "You . . . didn't hurt me," she softly whispered. "Just come a bit later next time to pick me up." Junsu felt his whole body tensing, eternally frozen. Only his thoughts were free to wander. He wondered why she didn't want the world to know about their relationship? Was he embarrassing as a boyfriend? Was it his white suit? Was it . . .

He gave up thinking, letting all sense of emotion dissipate. At least, she still let him pick her up from school. The only thing that mattered was that she was there, hugging him. He should only focus on this intimacy, yet he couldn't. He could only focus on her words, mainly the tone of her voice. Words were deceptive, but vocal pitches were not.

In the end, he had disappointed her again and again.