#( we’re going to pretend i didn’t start this mooooooonths ago and pretend even more that this doesn’t suck lol

[shelikeswongkarwai]

[ school dazed and confused ]

ft. bohyun @051688 in an au

Their ages usually stay the same in the verses she imagines except for a certain few. In this one they both go to the same school. He’s a year older than her because it just doesn’t seem right that he wouldn’t be. From what he’s told her he was the nerdy jock that somehow toed the line between cool and uncool, which would make her the irresponsible goth princess that still makes good grades while still spending most of her weekends out being with friends or catching a show in some college kid’s garage.

But none of that matters. Not really.

What matters is that they go to the same school and they just so happen to take a class together. English specifically because English is her favourite and she’s proficient enough that her teacher recommends she move up a year in her class. So she does. And that isn’t necessarily where they meet but it’s where she sees him most of the time. Him in the little gaggle of bros in the corner she would never in a million years associate with because ew how boring is that. Varsity jackets? Please. Varsity jackets in high school? Gag. But she knows he’s smart. And she knows he’s not nearly as bad as the others.

And maybe that’s why she bothers him. Maybe that’s why she corners him in the library where she knows he’ll be like clockwork after school on a day he doesn’t have practice. Because he’s on the swim team or something, some sport where he wears tight things, she doesn’t really pay that much attention. But she knows he’ll be there, so that’s where she is. For once he’s alone, which she figures is as good a sign as any for her to plop herself down beside him and slam a hastily stapled stack of papers before him. She figures the cover page will tell him everything he needs to know. They’re in the same class, they’re working on the same assignment, ultimately different subject matter, but it still counts for 30% of their final grade and it’s due in three days.

“Word on the street is that you’re doing pretty good in O’Grady’s class. So, I want you to help me.” Chances are he would just stare, chances are even higher that he might not know who she is. She’s kind of counting on that, because she figures if he doesn’t know who she is, there’s a better chance he won’t say no. So she offers up what she thinks is a charming grin, little does she know he had that market cornered long before she could ever try.

But all that matters is that she has his attention.

Her paper, finished for the most part, is on top of whatever textbook he was reading and she sits there staring. Kind of hoping he won’t ask too many questions. But what normal person wouldn’t, right? She’s a whirlwind of long dark hair unkempt at the ends, chokers layered around her neck, doc martens overworn and scuffed, a usually oversized flannel tied around her waist to reveal a band tee (NIN today) and jeans torn at the knees with real pockets (they’re thrifted of course). And he’s not. The exact opposite in fact. But she isn’t deterred. Their stubbornness usually remains intact through the verses.

His look is disbelieving and Elena can’t blame him, but maybe she can? She’s heard he tutors, although she’s also heard his sessions devolve into something more sex education adjacent but when he finally answers with an affirmative, she sees her opening and he’s doomed. The figurative door is kept wide open as she coerces him into looking her paper over and arguing when she disagrees with a correction he wants to make. But for the most part the next two hours are spent getting exactly what she wants, even if the librarian has to come around at least three times to shush them. The matron was used to such shenanigans from her but clearly not from him based on the suspicious looks she sent them.

And that would be the start of their haphazard friendship. Acquaintance? Something else entirely? They start acknowledging each other in the hallway, he grins sometimes while she usually shoots him the finger. In English class, he remains in his varsity jacket corner, but from time to time, she catches him staring, he catches her looking him over and that goes on for the next few weeks. The grades for their paper finally come back and she gets her highest mark yet in the class which means she sneaks a note into his locker telling him to meet her after school. She knows he doesn’t have practice that day.

Elena in this verse is still just as obnoxious and bratty as she is in their current one. So when he shows up after school, as she’d hoped, she drags him to a nearby hot dog stand and buys him one as thanks. Not that she says thanks outright but like most of the verses, she’s hoping he gets it without her having to risk softness because that would be the bane of her existence. They’d sit hunched on the curb as they ate and talked, it’s a lot easier like this for either of them to open up and chat freely without the hover of eyes and questioning stares because they shouldn’t even know who the other is. Elena teases and prods and says nothing of the ketchup on his cheek because it’s nice to see him messy for once, not all taut and clean.

She’ll never admit that she likes him. Or is starting to. Always had? No matter the verse, there’s always this pull strung tight between them. No matter how long it takes them to realize it. Here? With them like this? It takes the end of the semester and a few short weeks left in summer vacation for them to realize it. With school out, it’s both easier and harder for them to see each other. They don’t have the excuse of daily hallway run ins and English class, but there’s nights where Elena invites him to an underground show and days he convinces her to catch a matinee showing of the newest movie from a director they both loved.

It doesn’t always work out. Sometimes she has to stay at home and help her mom and other times his friends assume he isn’t up to anything and force him to another house party that sees him garnering the attention of girls he isn’t interested in. One such summer party, a big blowout at Garth’s house (he’s one of the varsity jacket boys), results in a slew of videos and the high speed churn of the gossip mill that young and handsome Bohyun was now dating young and beautiful Jess from a neighbouring high school. Normally Elena wouldn’t hear about such things, they didn’t run in similar circles, but a cousin of a friend went to said neighbouring high school and Elena followed them on IG and the algorithm found a way of showing her such a video. This one’s clear, obviously shot on the newest iPhone, yet shaky but it’s zoomed in on someone who bears a striking resemblance to Bohyun definitively making out with a very pretty blonde in the one corner not occupied by other bodies apparently.

Elena doesn’t speak to him for a week.

Texts go unanswered, calls are ignored, even discord messages are left unread. For all Bohyun knows, she’s been abducted by aliens, but by the fourth day, she’s uncharacteristically live streaming from a shitty venue hosting an even shittier band while tipsy but smiley and barely hanging off the shoulder of an older and attractive in that sketchy-you’re-on-the-verge-of-an-eviction-notice-aren’t-you kind of way. Bohyun asks things like ‘Where’ve you been?’, ‘Are you ok?’, ‘Who is he?’ in the stream but she’s too drunk to notice and shuts it down soon after.

Like I said. No matter the verse, they’re always stubborn. And this one’s no different.

On day 9, Bohyun has had enough and he shows up at hers. In this verse, Elena’s family’s a little better off, but nowhere close to his and the rest of their school. For all of her ripped jeans and laissez faire approach, she’s a scholarship kid. It’s the only way for them to afford four years. He’s been outside her apartment before and after meet ups, but he’s never gone all the way to her door. She’s never let him. The complex itself isn’t shabby, it’s clean and well maintained, but Elena always had troubles with her guard. Verse be damned.

So when she opens the door, she doesn’t expect him. He hadn’t messaged her in advanced, which was a good thing too. For if he had, she’d have run off and moved to neighbouring Jersey if that’s what it took. Instead she’s met with him and she pulls a face, remembering the stupid video.

“What?” She’d hiss, probably stepping outside and closing the door behind her because if her mom knew he was here, she’d invite him and Elena’s really not up for explaining why boys like him aren’t allowed.

“So you are alive.”

“In the flesh. Anything else?”

If it isn’t clear already, Bohyun doesn’t like this new curt Elena tensed before him. He doesn’t recognize her. Not in comparison to the Elena who he’s spent several weeks sharing knowing glances with and ducking through subway turnstiles behind because ‘he needs to live a little’. Not the same Elena who shoots him a sideway little smile over her book when he glances up from his own only to notice they’re both staring. This one is hard and bundled up tight and he doesn’t understand why. Of course he wouldn’t.

“Walk with me,” he can see no on her face before her mouth even thinks to move so he decides not to give her the chance. He takes a hold of her wrist and pulls her along despite her opposition because he can’t talk to her like this. The elevator ride is quiet and she’s fuming by the time they make it back outside and she wrenches her arm out of his loosened grip. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Bohyun the great? Do something wrong? You’re not coded for that. Why would something be wrong?” Her stare is dark and he almost laughs until he realizes she’s serious. It’s not the sardonic tone he’s used to from her, and that worries him.

“Hey… what’s wrong? Really. We haven’t spoken in at least a week and I haven’t seen you in even longer.” For some reason that realization strikes them both. Elena begins picking at her black nail polish and Bohyun tries to get a better look at her face. The city is loud behind them, it’s late afternoon on a long summer day, but all the two of them can hear is the stretch of silence between them.

Eventually she speaks, mouth curling into a pout she would never admit to, “….figured you’d want to spend the rest of the summer with your girlfriend. She’s pretty. But why wouldn’t she be? It’s not as if you’d date someone ugly.” If she weren’t too busy burning a hole into her chipped polished nails, maybe she’d see the confusion distorting his young features. Genuine confusion withering his brows.

“Girlfriend…? What are you talking about?”

“Oh my god— don’t play dumb. Everyone knows. You and Jess. It’s everywhere.” She hates that she suddenly sounds like everything she hates about high school, the endless tedium and the drone of gossip that went in one ear and out the other— but here she was. Being the thing she dreaded most. A high school girl. Worse— a high school girl who liked a boy that didn’t like her. Remember: this is what she thinks.

It hits him then that she must’ve seen the videos. Heard whatever it was people were saying. He was a growing boy with urges and Jess was a pretty girl with those same urges— tack on some underaged drinking and the goading of his friends and who was he to pass up a makeout session or two? What he hadn’t expected were the rumours that followed quickly after, but he never took much stock in such things, so said nothing of it, shrugging off anyone who dared to assume. Yet the girl before him had never asked him. Why would she? That wouldn’t have been very Elena of her. So how would she know that it was all just the exaggerated fancies of drunken teens?

He grins to himself and there’s something familiar and vaguely cocky about it as he leans in to catch the eyes of a moody Elena.

“Is that why you’ve been ignoring me? Because you think I’m dating a pretty blonde? You know how I feel about blondes.” She sends him a scathing glower at that and his grin deepens, intentional in his wording. A riled up Elena usually forgot much else. Even the fact she was supposed to be ignoring him.

“I know you’re a guy and guys will date anyone that looks like her. Even you.” Which is probably what has her disappointed the most. She thought he was different despite his jacket, but maybe she’d been wrong all along. She hated that it started up a ball in the pit of her stomach.

“Elena, Elena… if you want to date me, just say so.” She punches his shoulder with a huff and he laughs out loud, sensing the slow return of the girl he knows. “I’m not dating her. If you’d ever thought to ask, you’d have known that.” She still has it in her to roll her eyes like she wasn’t pouting just moments before and his grin softens. It’s funny how very little their dynamic actually changes throughout the verses.

“Well… congratulations I guess. You’re still on the market. The girls of New York must be sooo relieved.” In the midst of her tirade, he’s moved in even closer and before she has a chance to notice, he’s a lot closer than she’s used to. Especially after more than a week of not having seen each other.

“You’re wrong. I’m not on the market.”

“But you just said—“

“I know what I said. I’m not dating her. But I can’t be on the market either if there’s someone I already like.” It isn’t like the movies where she’s suddenly swept off her feet, but she sees something in his gaze that she hadn’t noticed before. And neither of them do anything about it because they’re both a little chicken and a week before school starts up again, she’ll tell him she better not see anymore videos of him kissing girls online or she’s kicking his ass. And he’ll promise only for them to finally kiss the night before the first day of classes outside her apartment after they’ve gotten back from a Park Chan Wook marathon because what’s more romantic than that, right?

Neither of them says anything like go out with me but the next school year they’re always talking between class and he’s always trying to walk her to hers to her chagrin and sometimes if the library is quiet enough you might peek around a bookshelf and spot them making out behind a precarious pile of books that she thinks works as an effective hiding technique but what does he care so long as he gets to kiss the girl he likes.