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mostlycompetentwriter · 5 years ago

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It’s All About The Game- Part 2

Sophomore Year

Pairing: OC x Seo Changbin (Stray Kids)

Genre: High School AU, Enemies to Lovers, Sports Fiction (basketball, man!)

Warnings: None (at least for this part)

Word Count: Almost 11,000

Summary: Despite her hesitance, OC allows Changbin to become a regular mainstay in her seemingly normal high school life. But who is she to turn down someone willing to become friends? However, perhaps OC completely misread the situation because it seems like Changbin wants more than just friendship. The problem is OC has no idea how to handle his advances.

Notes: Yes, I waited until the very last day in December. New Years Resolution: Post at more appropriate times.

August

Message from Han Jisung:

I’m coming home today

My fingers trembled with excitement as I typed out a short reply, eager for the opportunity to see Jisung again after an entire summer waiting for his return. My only saving grace came in the form of the well-intended letters he sent in the mail from his campsite up north, talking about all the activities his older, and overly enthusiastic, camp counselor was forcing him to join. The letters made me laugh as I held them tightly in my hands, seeking out his familiar words as I found myself inadvertently experiencing his adventures with him, vicariously living through Jisung’s expertly crafted stories. They stood in stark contradiction to his contributions: various postcards from the expensive European cities his summer league basketball team were visiting to participate in tournaments.

London

I won MVP in the tournament again.

Berlin

You’d be impressed with the game I had today.

Paris

I miss you, Reynolds.

I was beginning to think Changbin actually genuinely believed I wanted to hear about all the places he visited while I was stuck in our boring hometown. In actuality, I managed an impressively over dramatic eye roll each time I found another card in my mailbox. Unlike Jisung’s meaningful letters, Changbin decided to only think about himself, as per usual, and it was already difficult knowing that we now shared a tentative friendship.

As for myself, in addition to the thrill of Changbin and Jisung’s mailings, I tried my best to enjoy my summer vacation. For example, I often joined Felix, Minho, and Hyunjin at the park to play basketball, even if it was devastatingly sad to explain basic fundamentals every time we tried to play 2 on 2. I also took the initiative of studying relentlessly for my PSATs, knowing I would be grateful for the advantage later on when I was actually forced to take the dreaded examination just for a shot at a decent University. Finally, and perhaps most significantly, I started learning how to drive from my father. Unfortunately, I was proving to be a pretty lousy motorist, often forgetting to even put the car in drive before my eager foot pressed down on the gas pedal.

In conclusion, it was a lousy summer and I was more than ready for school to start back again, even if that meant dealing with Seo Changbin for another year.

“Jisung!”

I watched with barely contained excitement as Jisung finally located me sitting at the bar of the restaurant he recommended. A wide smile broke out across his face, eyes lighting with mischief as he joined me on the narrow bar stool next to my own. “I didn’t know it would be this crowded,” Jisung said, studying the masses of students occupying the surrounding booths and tables.

“School starts back soon,” I said with a shrug.

“I kind of like it,” Jisung said, leaning in closer. “How was your summer?”

“Boring,” I groaned, dragging my water closer. “I’m supposed to take Driver’s Ed soon and I’m already convinced of tragic failure.”

“Tragic?” Jisung chuckled, sandy-colored bangs falling into his eyes. “Have you been practicing?”

“Almost every day,” I lamented.

“Maybe I could help you?” Jisung suggested. “I think it’s about time you chauffeur me around instead.”

I glared at him playfully. “Is that so?”

“Look, Kayda,” Jisung grinned, “it’s not so hard once you get the hang of it, and I happen to make an excellent teacher.”

“You don’t understand what you’re dealing with,” I groaned, wincing as I remembered my father’s furious expression after running into the trash bins situated at the edge of the street for pickup.

“We can start this weekend,” Jisung suggested.

I studied him carefully, trying to figure out if he was being serious. “Are you sure?”

“Why not?” Jisung shrugged. “I had a pretty boring summer too.”

“Your letters didn’t mention that,” I joked, unconsciously moving in closer to him, our shoulders briefly brushing together.

“There wasn’t anyone to talk to,” he said. “I didn’t like the other kids in my cabin. They were obviously not interested in camp formalities.”

“Camp formalities?”

“And decorum!” Jisung shouted, ignoring the way some of our classmates glared at his outburst. “I’ve never seen such blatant disregard for the rules.”

“What? Did they stay up after curfew?”

“Well, I did that too,” Jisung said, earning him an eye roll in return. “I’m talking about the fucking.”

I nearly choked on my water, gaping at Jisung with wide eyes. “Are you serious?”

“It’s an old cliche,” Jisung went on as if he wasn’t openly discussing such a taboo activity in the middle of a public restaurant. “Camps always make teenagers extra horny.”

“And were you participating?” I dared to ask him, surprised by the little flare of jealousy that briefly ruined my previous smile.

“I made good use of my hand,” Jisung said, grinning brightly while I blushed in response, finding words incapable of describing the unusual embarrassment of hearing him talk that way.

“What’s wrong?” Jisung continued because he definitely knew that his comment had left me flustered. “Are you alright?”

I waved him off, finishing off the entirety of my water as I tried to flush out the brilliant red undoubtedly coloring my cheeks. “It’s fine.”

“Ugh,” Jisung grimaced, attention refocusing on something behind me. “Your stupid boyfriend is here.”

“He’s not my-” I trailed off as soon as I realized that Jisung was talking about Changbin, having been relentlessly teasing me about his sudden interest since the basketball ordeal in the park. He was obviously looking for a rise which I refused to give him as I turned around to make eye contact with my life’s biggest nuisance.

“Reynolds!” Changbin loudly announced, commanding the attention of the entire restaurant.

“He knows how to make an entrance,” Jisung grumbled, appearing unusually downtrodden as we both waited for Changbin to approach, Felix and Minho hanging behind.

Changbin sat down next to me, immediately relaxing an arm casually against the back of my chair. I glared at the intruding limb, but Changbin didn’t take notice, far too busy signaling for our busy waitress as if his needs were more important than the rest of the restaurant’s patrons. “Did you order yet, Reynolds?” Changbin asked, eyes scanning the menu as he started listing off his demands to the poor waitress scrambling to write everything down.

“I ate before I came here,” I said, meeting Jisung’s gaze entreatingly as if he could possibly do anything to stop Changbin.

“You like fries, right?” Changbin asked, looking up at the waitress. “Did you get that?”

The waitress patiently nodded her head, bowing slightly when Changbin dismissed her. “Did you get my postcards, Reynolds?” Changbin asked, waving off his friends after they extended an invitation to join them at an open table.

“I got them,” I offered shortly, sighing as I realized that Changbin’s return, more so than Jisung’s, certainly meant that our cherished summer vacation was truly over.

Changbin smirked. “Were you impressed, Reynolds? We went to 9 different cities in Europe.”

“Congratulations,” I muttered, frowning when Changbin ignored my sarcastic comment in exchange for the soda the waitress had brought for him. I quickly turned to Jisung. “You can get us out of here right?”

Jisung pursed his lips, bouncing his fingers against his chin in faux consideration. “I don’t know, Kayda, it’s kinda funny to see you like this.”

I glared at him, inwardly groaning when Changbin tapped on my arm, a silent demand for my attention. “I didn’t know you were here, Han,” Changbin said, scoffing slightly at the older boy.

“I’ve been here the whole time.”

Changbin narrowed his eyes. “I heard you were gone this summer too.”

“My dad forced me to go to a summer camp,” Jisung said, seemingly unbothered by Changbin’s obvious hostility.

Changbin moved in closer to me, nodding his head at our waitress when she dropped off an order of fries. “Here, Reynolds,” Changbin said, tone much lighter as he pushed them in my direction.

I rolled my eyes at him, but Changbin didn’t seem to notice. Jisung grinned, but the smile was far less authentic than usual. “When do you want to start your driving lessons, Kayda?”

“Driving?” Changbin turned to me instantly. “You asked Jisung to teach you?... I could’ve done it.”

It was almost laughable to see Changbin’s pouty expression, snatching a fry from my tray. “Jisung already has his license,” I pointed out.

“I get mine soon!” Changbin retorted.

“She’ll learn better from me,” Jisung said, already in the process of pulling out his wallet. “I have to help my mom this afternoon. I’ll see you at school, Kayda.”

I tried not to protest, offering Jisung a delicate wave as I watched him the entire time he left the dinner, pushing his way through the lingering crowd of students. “What’s his problem?” Changbin snorted, crossing his arms over his chest in a defensive manner.

“How did you know I was here?” I asked Changbin, ignoring his question.

“I didn’t,” Changbin said, smile slowly returning. “But I’m glad I saw you, Reynolds.”

Despite his attitude and clear dismissal of Jisung, I couldn’t help the way my heart fluttered at his earnest declaration.

September

It was almost comical, slowly watching Jisung’s enthusiasm fade away the longer he attempted to coax me down the street in his beat-up Ford. Of course, Jisung had every right to be frustrated, especially considering how long his impromptu lesson had been progressing. At this point in time, I was deemed a lost cause and I was thoroughly embarrassed by my ineptitude.

“You don’t have to press the gas so hard,” Jisung gasped, clutching tightly to the safety bar above his head.

“Sorry,” I murmured quietly, ashamed that I couldn’t understand something so simple.

Jisung cleared his throat. “You did warn me.”

I sighed, bouncing my forehead against the steering wheel. “I don’t know why it’s hard for me.”

“Everyone learns at their own pace,” Jisung tried to reassure me, but his words had little effect on my failing confidence.

“It’s okay,” I said. “We can stop for the day.”

“Kayda,” Jisung tried again, reaching for me across the console, but I brushed his hand away, unfastening my seatbelt before grabbing the door handle. “You did fine!” Jisung insisted as he hurried to catch up to me.

“I might as well ask my neighbor if she’ll keep driving us,” I said, pausing outside the door to my house. “I’m sorry about today. It wasn’t that fun.”

“I had a blast,” Jisung said, whining when I slapped his arm.

“You don’t need to lie.”

“Seriously, Kayda,” Jisung said, shuffling forward with slight trepidation. “I like hanging out with you.”

“Even if I tried to kill us?”

“We were never in danger,” Jisung scoffed, playfully moving in to ruffle my hair.

“Hey!” I protested.

“Keep practicing,” Jisung said. “Promise me you won’t give up.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I huffed impatiently.

“Kayda...”

“Fine,” I relented. “But it’s your fault when I crash.”

The following day at school, I walked into my first-period class while mindlessly adjusting the buttons on my coat sleeve. My thoughts were occupied, which probably explained why I was so caught off-guard when I first heard his voice. I startled in the doorway, eyes growing wide when I realized Changbin was sitting at my usual table at the back of the room, a smirk pasted on his lips.

I clutched tightly to the shoulder straps of my bag, watching Changbin pull out the chair next to him, a clear invitation. I rolled my eyes but unwittingly started for the back of the room, ignoring the expressions of shock and confusion on my classmates’ faces. “You could make a bigger scene next time,” I grumbled, tossing my bag into the floor as I slouched down next to Changbin.

“You’re not more excited to see me, Reynolds?” Changbin smirked. “I transferred into this class just for you.”

“Great,” I droned sarcastically, impatiently urging the clock to move faster.

“Seems pretty boring,” Changbin remarked, fingering the edges of his brand new textbook, a stark contradiction to my well-used offering.

“I need it for my academic cluster,” I said, trying to ignore the way his arm fell across the back of my chair.

“Basketball workouts start soon,” Changbin reminded me as if I could have possibly forgotten.

“I know.”

“And as friends...” Changbin trailed off, raising one questioning brow, “some of my teammates and I spend time practicing at the park on the weekends.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“You should join us, Reynolds.”

I eyed Changbin cautiously. “Why?”

“Because,” he enunciated, gazing at me entreatingly, “we’re friends, right?”

“So you say,” I muttered, tersely bouncing my leg under the table, anxious for our teacher to arrive and end this mundane conversation.

“Saturday afternoon,” Changbin said, nodding in satisfaction. “I can pick you up around noon?”

“I don’t remember agreeing to this.”

“Well, consider it an open invitation.”

“That I decline.”

“Reynolds,” Changbin whined, “Felix will be there.”

“I didn’t know Felix was on the basketball team,” I said, growing more and more self-conscious of the way his fingers would occasionally graze against my spine.

“It’s more of friendly competition.”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine, but peer pressure isn’t cool.”

“You’ll love it, Reynolds.”

I sighed because his reassurances weren’t inciting the excitement he was probably hoping for.

Message from Seo Changbin:

I’m outside, Reynolds.

“Mom, I’ll be back before dinner,” I called out into the kitchen on the way out the door.

As promised, Changbin was waiting in his car. “Reynolds,” he greeted me when I was situated inside. “You should start answering my messages.”

“Yeah,” I scoffed, fastening my seatbelt. “Let me put that on the list.”

Changbin grinned, leaning back in his leather seat as he turned on the radio. Both windows were rolled down, allowing fresh air to circulate through the car. It was still hot, but the breeze helped counter the sweat starting to perspire on my skin, even if it was a bad combination with his expense seats.

“No AC?” I muttered.

“Nature isn’t enough for you?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I grumbled, frowning at the way he laughed at the expense of my comfort. Thankfully, the drive wasn’t very long and we finally pulled into the parking lot a mere fifteen minutes later.

“You ready, Reynolds?” Changbin teased, choosing to ignore my glare as he started up the well-worn path to the courts where everyone else was already waiting. I hesitantly followed his footsteps, only allowing a reluctant smile when I saw Felix and Hyujin talking together with two unfamiliar faces. “This way,” Changbin suddenly directed, pulling me towards the group of boys with a surprisingly powerful grip. “This is Seungmin,” Changbin said, patting the boy in question roughly on the back. “And Jeongin.”

“Hi,” Jeongin offered, an adorable smile permanently in place as he politely welcomed me.

“They’re both Freshmen,” Felix explained. “They’re trying out for the team this year.”

“Oh,” I nodded quickly. “Good luck, then.”

“They don’t need it,” Changbin scoffed, teasingly ruffling Jeongin’s hair to which the younger boy protested half-heartedly.

“Let’s pick teams,” Felix said, nodding at Changbin. “You can go first.”

Changbin took a step back, calling out for the other players. I lingered close to Felix, weary of the other boys joining our group, especially when it became clear that I was the only girl invited to play. Changbin rubbed his hands together, making a show of perusing his options. I rolled my eyes since it was obvious he would pick one of the older and more experienced boys. Yet, despite my absolute certainty, Changbin proved me wrong once again when his eyes landed on me. “Come on, Reynolds.”

I did my best to avoid looking completely stupefied while I ordered my feet to start working, falling behind Changbin while he and Felix continued rounding out their respective teams. “Again?” Hyunjin whined when he and Minho were the only two players left.

“I pick Minho,” Changbin said, smirking at the furious look Hyunjin wore as he stormed over to Felix’s side. “Let’s play!”

The sun was starting to set by the time everyone agreed to end the last game. I breathed out heavily, hands behind my hand as I tried to pull in more oxygen for my suffering lungs. It was difficult work keeping up with nine competitive teenage boys, but I was proud of my efforts, especially when it seemed like I was holding my own surprisingly well. “Not bad, Reynolds,” Changbin remarked after our team secured our first win courtesy of my well-timed jump shot.

“I’m surprised you passed it to me,” I admitted because, quite frankly, Changbin seemed to go out of his way to include me in every play.

“You’re better than you give yourself credit for,” he said, winking at me playfully before lining up at the half-court line to start the next game. By the end of our session, my team had won 3 out of the 4 games we managed to play under the remaining sunlight. And I’m half-way convinced that Changbin missed the final three on purpose just to allow Felix’s team one victory, even if it meant listening to Hyunjin brag about their superior endurance.

“How considerate,” I remarked to Changbin after the play.

He threw an arm around my shoulders to which I wrinkled my nose and complained about the proximity. “I’m a nice guy,” Changbin said and I despised the way I leaned in closer, an unconscious movement. “Ready to go home?” I managed a nod, ignoring the way he laughed at my speechlessness.

I trailed behind Changbin as we walked to his car, pausing at the trunk to throw in our gym bags. And my eyes widened in surprise when Changbin reached down for the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it over his head before tucking the drenched fabric into the waistband of his gym shorts. “What?” Changbin questioned, frowning at the obvious way my mouth gaped open.

“Nothing,” I said quickly, looking away despite how difficult it was proving to be with Changbin growing even closer.

“Good game, Reynolds,” Changbin said, and I did my best to avoid looking at his bare chest.

“R-right,” I stuttered, blinking rapidly. “It was fun.”

Changbin’s resounding laughter was surprisingly endearing, eyes following me the entire time I entered his car.

October

Autumn was approaching which meant the days were growing shorter while a frigid cold was starting to settle, leaves falling in delicate shades of red and orange. The change in season was always expected, and I appreciated the break from the unforgiving summer months, the sun bearing down as I was often forced to retreat inside for fear of an unpleasant sunburn. But the weather wasn’t the only thing changing recently, and I knew something was wrong with Jisung, but he refused to tell me anything. “Everything’s fine,” he often reassured me, but the sentiment didn’t quite reach his eyes and his smile was forced as he talked to our other classmates.

I wanted him to trust me more, to willingly tell me whatever it was that was weighing heavily on his heart. And I did my best to find the answers, meeting him in the afternoons after school, hoping to show him that I was a reliable confidant. Yet, each subsequent day flew by with no promise of the conversation I desperately wanted.

And this afternoon, in particular, was proving to be no different.

“I’m a better choice than your neighbor, right?” Jisung asked as he drove us to my house.

I nodded as an acknowledgement, too tired to offer a coherent reply, a result of morning basketball workouts that drained my energy right along with regular classes. These days, Jisung had started taking me home from school as opposed to my neighbor. I was glad for the change, especially since it meant I could spend some time with Jisung.

“Tired?” he asked and I offered a delicate yawn.

“Basketball is tiring,” I said, pulling myself away from the window to look at Jisung. “You seem tired too.”

“There’s a lot going on,” Jisung offered vaguely and I pursed my lips as I considered his vague response.

We were both quiet for the remainder of the drive, and Jisung pulled into my driveway with a loud sigh. “Let’s stay outside.”

“Okay,” I agreed, watching him carefully now because I could always tell when someone was feeling burdened by an unpleasant truth. Nonetheless, I took Jisung to the backyard where I stole some blankets from the basement and spread them out along the grass. Jisung sat down on top of the worn fabric, fingering the holes at the edges before reaching out to pluck a sunflower free from its stem. “You don’t seem as happy these days,” I remarked, studying the way Jisung’s fingers brushed across the delicate petals of the flower he held.

“What makes you say that?” he asked, face shadowed by the way the sun hits the side of his profile.

“Nothing,” I said softly. “Do you want to do some work?”

“Will you help me with my essay?”

“Only if you promise me a massage because my shoulders are dying.”

“Deal,” Jisung agreed, managing a smile while he reached for his bag. Together, we worked diligently in the backyard as we attempted to conquer our matching piles of homework. Basketball was a recurring distraction, often forcing me to stay up late at night to complete assignments since I lost time during the day to work on essays about dead poets.

“You’re not as talkative,” I said, choosing my words carefully.

“It’s my mom,” Jisung said and I was surprised by his willing openness.

“And?”

Jisung picked another sunflower, holding it up to his eyes as he twirled the delicate stem between his elegant fingers. “She’s dying.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that and a painful silence fell between us.

November

Basketball tryouts were proving to be a substantial blow to my meager social life. I could barely find time to talk to Jisung, and I never forced him to wait for me in the afternoons anymore because tryouts could continue for hours. In the meantime, Changbin was more than willing to drive me home, especially since he liked to flaunt his shiny new license around school for everyone to notice.

But I missed my drives with Jisung, and I missed the way he always seemed to make the days a little less stressful. I wanted to talk to him, and I knew my best opportunity would be this coming Friday because tryouts would end early and I could ask him to wait for me in the parking lot without feeling guilty. Of course, telling Changbin about my change in transportation was a dramatic affair. “Why not, Reynolds?” Changbin pouted, blocking me at my locker after our shared morning class despite my attempts to evade him.

“I have something else to do,” I said, wishing he could be more amiable for once and just let it go.

Graciously, the bell for classes proved to be a wonderful distraction and Changbin reluctantly allowed me to flee quietly to my Chemistry class without any more protest. For the remainder of the day, I could only focus on the clock, urging the stubborn minute hand to move faster. All I had to do was finish out tryouts successfully and I could finally have some time with Jisung.

The afternoon bell rang loudly in my ears as I hurried to the locker room, changing into my practice clothes quickly. Of course, such rapid preparation wasn’t entirely necessary since I still had to make it through the last day of tryouts, but my mind was somewhere else. Even so, my impending meeting with Jisung didn’t inhibit me from doing my absolute best, breathing out heavily as I scrimmaged with my teammates, ignoring the watchful eyes of my coach as she studied our plays.

By the end of practice, I was more than ready for the stress of tryouts to be over with because I was exhausted both mentally and physically. Thoughts of Jisung didn’t help, which had returned full force now that my attention wasn’t occupied by basketball. Instead, I impatiently tapped my foot against the court as I waited for coach to announce final cuts.

“Okay,” coach said, carefully posting the team roster to the board outside her office. “For those of you who made it, I’ll see you Monday afternoon.”

Normally, I was never one to rush to the front to see my name, but Jisung was waiting which meant my sharp elbows were now a weapon to help me fight to the roster. I breathed a silent sigh of relief when I found my name near the top, quickly shoving my way back through the crowd of my potential teammates.

I practically sprinted to the parking lot, ignoring the ache in my thighs courtesy of detestable shooting drills. But I smiled through the pain when I saw Jisung already inside his car, eyes watching me carefully as I ran the rest of the way to where he was parked. “I’m guessing you made the team,” Jisung teased after I was settled inside.

“Oh, yeah...” I trailed off, finding myself unable to tell Jisung the real reason behind my enthusiasm.

Jisung smirked, switching on the ignition before carefully navigating us onto the main road. “You said you wanted to talk?”

I nodded, taking a deep breath to settle my nerves. “I wanted to apologize.”

“Apologize?”

“For my reaction when you told me about your mom,” I said, shaking my head. “I didn’t really know what to say.”

“It’s okay,” Jisung said gently. “Most people don’t.”

“Is she okay right now?” I asked cautiously, keeping Jisung’s profile in my peripheral vision.

“You can come home with me,” Jisung suggested, eyes still trained forward. “To see my mom.”

I nodded without an ounce of hesitation. “Okay.”

I had never been to Jisung’s house before so my eyes were wide as I took in the simple one-story building, walking up the front porch steps to wait as Jisung wrestled his key in the lock. “She’s probably in her room,” Jisung told me, quietly leading me through the small living room and down a narrow hallway.

A door at the end was slightly ajar, and Jisung ushered me closer as he allowed me to walk inside first. “Hey, mom,” Jisung said, greeting the frail woman sitting up against a tall mountain of pillows. “Do you need anything?”

The woman shook her head, hollow eyes leaving Jisung to find me standing nervously in the doorway. “Who is this?”

Jisung smiled and encouraged me closer. “This is my friend.”

“What’s your name?” his mother asked, smile brighter than anything I had ever seen before. The only thing comparable would be Jisung himself who always proved to be an endless supply of the purest kind of light.

“Kayda,” I said, uncharacteristically shy.

“You’re beautiful,” she said, urging me closer while glancing over at Jisung who was now busy pouring water at the nightstand. “My son is very lucky.”

My cheeks heated as soon as I understood the implications of her observation. “Oh, I-”

“-Mom,” Jisung quietly interrupted, handing his mother one of the glasses. She accepted it gratefully, offering me a playful wink which only made my smile fall completely.

“I hate Mondays,” one of my new teammates muttered as she lounged on the bleachers with me after the conclusion of a brutal practice session.

“Tell me about,” I said, staring up at the ceiling. After meeting Jisung’s mom, I had returned home with a heavy heart, unable to find the courage to tell her that Jisung and I weren’t anything more than friends.

“Seo Changbin,” my teammate sighed and I instantly turned my head, watching the boy in question enter the gym with his friends. “Aren’t the two of you dating?”

“No,” I muttered out tersely, resuming my observation of the ceiling even though I could feel Changbin’s gaze from across the court.

And it was only a moment or two later when I heard his voice. “Reynolds,” he said, grinning down at me as he climbed the bleachers. My teammate let out a tired sigh, studying the two of us before allowing us the privacy that I didn’t really need. “Is this comfortable?” he asked, taking my teammate’s spot as he spread his 5’6’’ frame across the bleachers.

“It’s fine,” I said dismissively.

“I saw you guys practicing earlier,” Changbin said, never one to take a hint even if it was waiting right in front of him.

“Did you?”

“You looked good out there, Reynolds,” Changbin said, reaching up to tap his fingers on my thigh. “You’re faster than everyone else.”

“Gee, thanks,” I muttered, wondering if it would be too obvious if I sat up to leave...But that might be too abrupt.

“Are you sticking around for our practice?” he asked with a hopeful tone.

“I’m going home with my neighbor,” I said.

“You should stay one time,” Changbin continued. “I learned a lot about basketball just by watching games on TV with my dad.”

I frowned because I did the same thing. “Aren’t you supposed to be with your teammates?”

“Not yet,” Changbin said. “This is my special way of building anticipation.”

“Isn’t that too arrogant?”

“It’s called confidence,” Changbin said instead. “You’ll be leading your team too, especially if you keep improving.”

His comment was surprisingly touching. “Is this what you tell all your friends?”

“Just the ones who deserve it,” Changbin said earnestly, allowing a relaxed sigh. “You know, Reynolds,” Changbin grinned. “I think you’re the best player on the Varsity team.”

His words were unexpected and I was caught off-guard by my own smile. “Why is that?”

“There doesn’t need to be a reason,” Changbin said. “I’ve watched you play before.”

“Is that so?”

“Of course,” Changbin said, turning his head slightly to meet my gaze. “But

I think that some of your teammates are jealous.”

“I know they are.”

“If they give you any problems, you let me know,” he said, holding up his pinky for me which I allowed to wrap around my own, sealing his promise.

December

I found Jisung lingering outside my first-period classroom, arms folded over his chest as he leaned against the doorway. It was obvious that he was waiting for me, so I carefully made my way through the crowded hallways to anticipate his forthcoming dialogue. “Kayda,” he smirked, nodding his head in my direction. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“My neighbor was late this morning,” I said. “Something about an argument with her sister.”

“You won’t have to worry about that when you get your own license,” Jisung said, managing a ghost of his alluring smile.

“I know,” I grumbled because my driving ineptitude was still a sore spot of conversation. “Did you need to talk?”

“I have something to ask you,” he agreed, demeanor shifting as he suddenly appeared a lot less eager than before. Uncertain. “It’s a lot to ask of you.”

I squinted my eyes, suddenly curious. “Well?”

“My mom has a lot of family in the mountains,” he said, eyes searching mine slowly. “But it’s been kinda hard this year to get together, especially since my mom’s diagnosis.”

“I’m sorry,” I murmured softly, to which he attempted to shrug indifferently, even if the emotion was evident in his expression. “We usually visit around Christmas.”

“You can’t go this year?” I guessed, trying to empathize with Jisung’s circumstances.

“That’s not it,” Jisung said, gazing at me entreatingly. “I want you to come with us.”

I paused at the request, trying to understand the implications. “Why?”

“You make things easier,” Jisung said and I softened immediately at his words.

“I’ll ask my parents,” I told him, suddenly feeling an intense desire to satisfy his request. “I’m sure they won’t mind.”

“Thank you, Kayda,” Jisung smiled and it was the type of all-encompassing sunshine that always managed to warm my heart.

Basketball practice was excruciatingly difficult that afternoon. Our coach was preparing for this weekend’s basketball tournament, an annual precursor to winter vacation that both students and players alike looked forward to with anticipation. Our school was always expected to perform at the highest level of athleticism, frequently moving through the tournament bracket to the final round of scheduled play. It was a cherished tradition that always managed to fuel my coach’s desire to include as many sprints in a single session as one could manage before players were forced to rush to the bathroom to lose whatever food was still in their stomachs.

“Nice job, ladies,” she nodded at the end of our time. “I want everyone at the gym early on Saturday.”

A dozen or so nods of agreement before we were officially dismissed. Which meant the boy’s team immediately started for their turn at the court, leaving a few of my fellow players flushed with nervous giggles. It also meant the arrival of Seo Changbin who never missed an opportunity to grace me with his presence. “Reynolds,” he said, panting a little from his brisk jog over. He had learned that I tried to leave practice early, stuffing my belongings into my gym bag in the hopes of escaping before he had a chance to utter a single consonant of my last name. “I’ve been trying to find you all day.”

“It can’t be that difficult,” I huffed. “You memorized my schedule.”

“But this is important,” he said while hurriedly shuffling through the small binder in his hands, finding the appropriate form. “I’m doing a co-ed basketball camp over break,” Changbin said, forcefully shoving the paper at me. “You could always come too, Reynolds.”

I smoothed out the crinkled sheet, reading across the invitation. “Where did you find this?”

“Coach showed it to me,” Changbin said. “But I thought of you.”

“How considerate,” I snickered before quickly remembering my promise to Jisung. “I don’t think I’ll be able to go.”

“Oh,” Changbin responded, face falling as he rocked back and forth in front of me. “That’s okay, Reynolds. I guess I’ll see you after break instead.”

I watched him carefully because I didn’t like the way my heart broke a little at his simple acquiescence.

Jisung came to pick me up early at my house on the morning of our scheduled trip to the mountains. My entire body was still sore, muscles screaming in agonizing protest as I forced myself to grab my bags and trudge down the hallway. My mom greeted me in the kitchen, handing me a couple of Ibuprofen which I gratefully accepted.

I couldn’t remember the last time I had been in so much pain. And I didn’t know if it was entirely due to the demanding tournament in which my team had finished runner-up or the fact that Jisung was taking me to see his family like we were something more than friends. I mean, doesn’t it qualify as relationship-status when the attractive guy who frequently treated you to frozen milkshakes takes you home with him?

“You look nervous,” Jisung remarked, appearing entirely at ease behind the wheel of his car.

“Maybe a little,” I said in return, refusing to offer more details.

“Why?” Jisung asked. “It’s just my family, Kayda. I promise we aren’t ruthless drug lords or something.”

“I’d hate to understand how your mind works,” I said, gazing out the window because the land had transformed around us, smooth plains turning into rising hills- a series of dips like a roller coaster.

“You should know by now,” Jisung said, smirking. “I’m kinda weird.”

I scoffed at the comment. “I think your problem is the missing filter between your mouth and brain. Do you ever think about what you’re going to say?”

“No,” Jisung shrugged. “But sometimes you don’t either.”

“Really?” I immediately questioned. “This coming from the guy who swore that he saw a shark swim upstream in a freshwater river coming home from his last excursion to New York’s Comic-Con.”

“Point taken.”

Message From Seo Changbin:

You know they make this thing called FaceTime, right? Anytime you want to see my pretty face, you know what to do.

Jisung’s family cabin was modest, but that didn’t take away from the beauty surrounding the two-story structure. The woods were gorgeous with the faint remnants of snow blanketing the ground, melting into cool rivulets that flowed steadily between makeshift canals. The sun filtered through the trees to throw an interesting contradiction of light and shadow over the empty foliage.

“Well?” Jisung prodded, pulling me closer by my shoulder. His coat brushed against mine, rustling the fabric between us.

“It’s nice,” I said, studying the picturesque-sight while Jisung led me to the front porch, stomping his boots off on the crusty welcome mat faded and worn from years of use.

I swallowed hard when the door opened and an elderly woman stepped outside, letting out an impossible shriek as she went to collect Jisung’s puffy cheeks between wrinkled hands. “Jisungie! So handsome.”

“This is my aunt,” Jisung said, cautiously pulling back from the hands holding him hostage. “Merida, this is my friend, Kayda.”

“Hello,” I said, holding out a hand in greeting which apparently catalyzed an even stronger reaction from the woman whose arms constricted around my middle without so much as a warning.

Jisung was visibly embarrassed as he offered me an apologetic look. Meanwhile, I struggled to figure out what I needed to do with my hands as Merida commented on how long my hair was. “I used to have long hair,” she said, finally releasing me. “Yours is so beautiful!”

“Oh, thank you,” I managed, wincing when she let out another squeak, grabbing my hand because she desperately needed to introduce me. “Everyone! Come meet, Kayda!”

I struggled to locate Jisung while I was moved from person to person, matching names to the faces of various aunts and uncles, grandparents and grandchildren, and those rather annoying cousins who promised me that they were a lot better than Jisung. I frowned at their blatant rudeness but chose not to comment because I didn’t want to say more than necessary. Because this was Jisung’s family and, whatever our relationship now meant between us, I didn’t want to leave a poor impression.

Jisung’s mother found me last, situated in an upright position on a bed in one of the upstairs rooms. “Kayda,” she murmured softly, grabbing my hands between hers and ushering me onto the bed. “How was your trip? Do you like the cabin?”

“It’s lovely,” I told her, glancing up at the sound of a creaking board, relieved to see Jisung standing there watching the two of us.

“We’re not old fashioned you know,” his mother continued, a conspiratorial smile on her face. “We can let you two share a room.”

“Mom,” Jisung whined, saving me from any further surprises by graciously excusing the two of us. “Sorry,” he whispered to me in the hallway. “They’re just really excited.”

“It’s okay,” I said, even though I did feel a little irritated that Jisung hadn’t bothered to prepare me more.

“We don’t have to share a bed or anything,” Jisung said. “I can sleep on the air mattress.”

“Thank you,” I said, glancing back at the closed door. “Do you want to see her alone?”

Jisung nodded. “You can stay in our room for now.”

I waited until Jisung had closed the door behind him before mustering up enough courage to ask one of his rude cousins to show me where I was staying.

Message to Han Jisung

Where are you?

Message from Han Jisung

Outside.

The leaves crunched loudly beneath my feet as I walked across the front lawn, searching for Jisung. His response to my message had been vague as if he really didn’t want to be found, but that only worried me for his well-being. The sun was setting low against the backdrop of the mountain peaks, breaking the rays of light in dramatic patterns. I inhaled the crisp, cold air with a satisfied sigh, stuffing my hands in my pockets to prevent my fingertips from growing numb. In actuality, I quite liked it up here, admiring the simplicity of the natural splendor. Maybe I could move to the mountains one day in the future, living in a cabin like Jisung’s because it was quite nice compared to the city.

I paused at the edge of a trail, squinting against the dying light. Even if my eyes were not made to accommodate easy viewing at night, I could still make out Jisung sitting at a wooden picnic table alone. I glanced back at the cabin, noting the light on over the porch before walking down the path, careful to mind the jutting rocks and arched roots rising from the ground.

“Jisung?”

His voice was hoarse, tears still discernible even if everything else was losing focus. “Sorry.”

“You don’t have a reason to be.”

I climbed onto the bench next to him, leaving very little space between our bodies. Jisung sniffled as he leaned in closer to me, watching the sunset against the backdrop of the skeleton trees.

“Is it your mom?”

“Yeah.”

I nodded because there wasn’t anything left to say.

Message from Seo Changbin:

We can still have conversations over break, you know?

Jisung and I eventually made our way back inside the cabin once the sun was completely gone, leaving the half-moon at its post. “You’re so cold,” Jisung said, curling his fingers through mine.

My limbs were stiff, joints aching as I followed Jisung back up the trail, drawn to the light of the cabin like a delicate moth. “Are you okay?” I asked, the question lingering between us while Jisung opened the door.

“I will be,” he whispered in return.

“I’m always here,” I told him, anxiously worried that Jisung might break down at any moment, and I didn’t think I could handle that. Because Jisung was sunshine, and I was the desperate tree growing at all sorts of angles just to feel his light.

Our room was relatively small and Jisung’s cousins had taken the air mattress earlier despite my condemnation. “We can share the bed,” I said, tone uncertain as I pulled back the sheets.

“Yeah?” Jisung said, watching me as I threw off my coat before making myself comfortable on the bed.

“Come on,” I ushered him, holding up the sheet and allowing Jisung to lie down next to me.

“Thank you, Kayda,” Jisung said, nose brushing mine from our close proximity. “You’ve done a lot for me.”

“Well, you had to suffer through my bad driving.”

Jisung chuckled and I savored the sound, the deep rumbling from his chest which was crowded against my hands. “You mean a lot to me.”

I froze next to him, eyes trying to make out his features in the dark room. But Jisung remained a mystery, an imperceivable canvas which was growing closer with every thunderous beat of my heart. His breath was warm, short pants from his mouth which cooled against mine. Jisung’s lips were incredibly soft, a stark contrast to the unwavering grip his fingers kept as they dug into my jaw to direct my movements. I trembled at the first touch, the smooth caress of his tongue against my bottom lip, a sensual question which I answered by parting my lips for him, allowing him access to the deepest parts of me that only his rays could touch. My eyes fluttered open, able to make out his own now that we were in such intimate proximity. Jisung’s gaze was filled with adoration and I could so easily lose myself in an earnest gaze, but that was impossible to do when all I could think about was Changbin.

January

Message from Seo Changbin:

You ignored me over break, Reynolds. Can you at least spare some time at school?

January was one of those impossible months to predict because it was either even colder than December or manageably warm which was still problematic since Climate Change was an ever-present threat. I woke up that morning and checked the temperate, deeming it to be somewhere in between those extremes. I had arrived home sometime over the weekend which meant my bags were still unpacked and I had no idea where my new gloves had disappeared.

I was running late for class when I finally arrived at school thanks to my mother who had the day off. I stopped by my locker to briefly exchange textbooks, erroneously almost leaving my homework stuffed into the bottom of my three-ring binder. “Reynolds.”

I groaned when I heard the familiar husk to his voice. “I’m late.”

“Is your phone not working?”

“It’s fine.”

“Well,” Changbin said, “if you had answered, then I wouldn’t need to here.”

“You still don’t need to be here.”

“How was your break?” Changbin asked, refusing to acknowledge my comment while standing against the lockers next to mine.

“Cold,” I said, refusing to even acknowledge the issue of Han Jisung and the kiss we shared in his tiny cabin bedroom.

Changbin sighed wistfully. “I told you, Reynolds, you would have had a better time with me.”

I chose to scoff at his comment. “How would you know?”

“I’m insulted, Reynolds,” Changbin said, fanning his fingers out against his broad chest. “You would’ve loved the camp. The arena is really nice at Christmas.”

“Just as friends,” I said, watching Changbin from the corner of my eye. “You’re making this sound romantic, Changbin, considering the fact that we’re only friends.”

Changbin’s eyes dropped from mine. “I know that, Reynolds. You like to remind me every day.”

I slammed my locker closed, feeling something akin to guilt. “Sorry.”

“Did something happen, Reynolds?” he asked, peering up at me cautiously like he knew he was overstepping our boundaries.

“Nothing happened,” I said quickly, stepping around him because I suddenly really needed to go to class and Changbin was crowding me.

Avoiding Jisung was becoming something of a habit, peeking cautiously around corners, staggering into class at the last minute in case he might be waiting in the doorway. And I know it was terrible to ignore Jisung, but I still had no idea how I could possibly talk to him after the kiss. Coincidentally, it only drove me closer to Changbin who was perfectly willing to drive me home after school or invite me out on the weekends. I quickly came to the conclusion that I was using Changbin to fill the places in my life that Jisung had previously occupied, not that Changbin minded in the slightest.

“Your house?” I questioned into the phone, my hand pausing over the popcorn bowl waiting between my legs. Recently, I had started to accept his incoming phone calls and even dial his number a time or two because Changbin was actually quite useful when it came to Algebraic Equations.

“Why not?” Changbin returned. “I have a lot of cool games we could try.”

It sounded like it meant a lot more to him, but I didn’t bother looking past the surface. “Will there be food?”

“Is that a yes, Reynolds?”

“Changbin.”

“Whatever you want, Reynolds.”

“Are you picking me up?”

“Give me ten minutes.”

Changbin’s house was fresh out of the Notebook, an old-school antebellum mansion that probably cost more than the entire town. And because it was Changbin’s house, I got to hear a thorough backstory concerning its history, meaning Changbin’s great-great-grandfather or whatever had likely never anticipated someone like me stepping across the marble-tiled floors. “What do you think, Reynolds?” Changbin asked, looking at me like my answer might change his entire life which was ridiculous because Changbin had probably impressed plenty of people.

“I like it,” I said, perhaps making Changbin’s entire year if the impressive smile he wore was anything to go by.

“The game room is upstairs.”

And it took up an entire section of the house, resembling some kind of futuristic arcade where a quarter in the machine meant relaxing in fine luxury chairs while playing an unreleased version of Final Fantasy with an espresso in hand. “Want anything?” Changbin asked from the bar.

“Surprise me,” I said, running my fingers against the side of the air hockey table that was spotlessly clean.

“What do you want to play?” Changbin asked, handing me a glass of water. A simple exchange that nonetheless meant a whole lot more to me than I thought. Suddenly, I was far too excited, surrounded by Changbin’s extravagant wealth.

“Everything.”

February

When Jisung was absent from school for an entire week, I knew something was wrong. Yet, no matter how many messages I directed to his phone, a response notification never lit up my phone screen. Was it partially my fault? Since I had done a remarkable job of avoiding him for an entire month.

“Why do you look so down?” my teammate asked as we lounged together on the bleachers, a regular occurrence.

“Jisung hasn’t been answering any of my messages.”

“I didn’t think you guys were friends anymore.”

“Oh,” I said, clearing my throat. “What made you think that?”

“Haven’t seen you together since Christmas break. Figured you probably came to your senses and started fucking Changbin.”

“I’m not dating Changbin,” I said, but there was a little less venom behind my usual conviction. “Jisung and I weren’t a couple anyway.”

“Well, maybe he has something else on his mind.”

“I guess.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it, even if your little love triangle was super entertaining to watch.”

“There’s no love triangle.”

“Personally, I’m rooting for Changbin to win but a couple girls on the team are thinking that Jisung is the endgame for sure.”

Had my life really become so complicated?

February 14th was a rueful day and I despised the commercial aspect to a holiday that had no real purpose in existing. Nevertheless, I wasn’t entirely negative because starting tomorrow, Walmart’s candy would be on sale and I could buy enough to last me until Easter.

Of course, for a lot of other people, Valentine’s day meant a lot, especially those mushy couples who probably secretly loathed one another and the idea of parting with more than 20 bucks for flowers. Still, I guess there was some merit in showing affection for someone you cared about. Sadly, I didn’t really know what that meant since I never got the experience.

I arrived early to class, a change of pace which meant I was sitting alone at my usual table with Changbin. Perhaps he wouldn’t show up at all, deciding to stay at home simply because of a sudden whim’s notice. And that would be perfectly acceptable to me, but I could never get so lucky.

“Reynolds,” Changbin said, standing behind me at our table and I didn’t have the strength to push him away.

“What?”

“It’s Valentine’s day,” Changbin reminded me, gently depositing a single red rose in front of me.

The gesture was surprising and it elicited a strange reaction because I couldn’t stop myself from touching the smooth petals. “Really?”

“Let’s go for milkshakes after school.”

I smiled because I actually loved the idea and couldn’t believe Changbin wanted something so simplistic. I was half-expecting a giant display of balloons waiting for my outside or a banner draped across the front of the school with my name written in big bold letters. But I got nothing like that and it was incredibly touching. “Okay.”

Jisung came back the next week and I could no longer find it in me to avoid the inevitable. I cornered him after class one afternoon, clutching tightly to the straps of my book bag. “Jisung.”

He turned around with a start, eyes widening in obvious surprise to see me standing there. “Kayda?”

“You were gone last week,” I said, glancing up at him sheepishly. “Is your mom alright?”

Jisung sighed, shoulders falling as his entire body seemed to collapse under the weight of his burden. “We had a scare, but she’s back home now.”

“I’m glad,” I told him sincerely. “Neither of you deserve this.”

“It always happens to the best people,” Jisung said, somewhat bitterly as he closed his locker door.

“I’m sorry for avoiding you,” I said, flushing at the apology. “I didn’t know what to say after what happened before.”

“You mean the kiss?” Jisung guessed, eyeing me curiously. “Did I do something wrong?”

“It was unexpected,” I said. “Since we’re just friends.”

Jisung took a long time to respond and I grew more and more anxious as I waited for his response. “I understand.”

But his tone was cold.

March

Message from Seo Changbin:

Come over, Reynolds.

“You’re heavy,” I complained, pushing against his shoulder as he leaned more of his weight against mine.

Changbin laughed, seemingly amused at my struggles. “I like you though.”

I huffed loudly, allowing him to lay his head in my lap, gazing up at me with mischievous brown eyes. “Do you even want to watch the movie?”

“I’ve seen Fast and Furious,” Changbin said, eyeing the movie from the corner of his eye with disinterest.

“Why did you recommend it, then?”

“Because you wanted to see it,” Changbin said. “But you can watch this in real life, anyway. I can take my car down to the track.”

“Good for you.”

Changbin smirked, tongue-in-cheek as he returned his attention to me. “Learned how to drive yet, Reynolds?”

I frowned. “No.”

“It’s not hard,” Changbin said. “Didn’t Han Jisung teach you?”

His tone was bitter. “He tried.”

“Probably not hard enough,” Changbin said, lifting himself up from my lap. “Do you want me to try?”

“I’m impossible.”

“Well,” Changbin grinned, “I kinda like a challenge.”

Changbin’s car was far too expensive for my inexperienced hands and I was shivering as I started the ignition. “Relax, Reynolds,” Changbin said from the passenger seat, appearing entirely at ease.

“What do I do?” I asked him in a panic, but Changbin merely reached down for the gear shift.

“Put it in drive.”

My fingers were shaking, tightening with a vice grip around the poor instrument. My foot was pressed down hard against the break, mind blanking the longer I questioned myself, especially with Changbin watching me. “I’m sorry,” I said, taking a deep breath as I pulled the gear shift back, letting off the brake to press down on the gas.

The car immediately lurched backward and I panicked, applying even more pressure to the gas pedal before realizing I had put the car into reverse instead of drive. The resounding sound of the mailbox behind me snapping beneath the weight of Changbin’s fancy sports car was impossibly loud. I fought back tears as I apologized repeatedly, managing to put the car back into park as I studied the ruined mailbox in the side view mirror.

“So what, Reynolds?” Changbin shrugged, seemingly unbothered by the destruction.

I looked at him in disbelief. “You can’t seriously be okay with that?”

“It didn’t hurt anybody,” Changbin said. “If you start to worry about everything you do wrong, then it’s even harder.”

I held tightly to the steering wheel. “Should I try again?”

“Why not?” Changbin shrugged. “This is more fun than I was expecting.”

“Driving isn’t supposed to be fun,” I said. “It’s serious.”

“Kayda, you sound like one of those scary-ass educational videos they make us watch in Driver’s Ed.”

“And?”

“Try to enjoy it more,” Changbin said. “You don’t have to be so tense when you’re driving.”

I let out a deep breath, my hand reaching back down for the gear shift. I relaxed a little when I felt Changbin’s hand on top of mine, guiding me through the movements as the car started to roll forward. “Is it too fast?” I asked, failing to keep the panic from my tone.

“You’re doing great, Reynolds,” Changbin said, leaning over to steady his other hand against my splayed out fingers on the wheel. “There’s nothing difficult about it.”

I was trembling now for a different reason, but Changbin didn’t need to know about that.

April

Jisung was ignoring me, which meant I had to ask Changbin to drive me to my scheduled test, anxiously fidgeting in his leather seat during the entire drive. I had no time to worry about Jisung, even though I was deeply hurt by his indifference. Instead, all I could think about was my driving test and how horrible it would be to fail the computer questions because they were probably the easiest part.

“You worry too much, Reynolds,” Changbin remarked, pulling into the parking lot of the DMV.

“I can’t help it,” I told him.

“If I can pass this, then you can,” Changbin said. “You’re way smarter than me.”

“I don’t think it has much to do with intelligence,” I said, rubbing my hands together as I carefully opened his car door.

“Don’t think too hard then,” Changbin grinned, faintly protesting when I reached across the console to smack his arm.

“What’s wrong with you! I’m having a small panic attack.”

“Yeah? Should I take you to the hospital?”

“You’re just asking for it,” I snapped, huffing indignantly when he started laughing. A nasal affair that would normally make me cringe.

“Why?” Changbin asked. “You know what your problem is, Reynolds? You take everything too seriously. Just relax for once.”

“But what if I fail?” I whined miserably.

“Then you take it again,” Changbin said. “I promise I won’t hold it against you forever.”

“I really hate you right now.”

FLASH!

I blinked my eyes, trying to rid my vision of those annoying black spots courtesy of the camera flash. Meanwhile, the obviously indifferent clerk clicked away at his computer screen. “Congratulations,” he said, tone completely void of any life as he handed me a tiny square of plastic.

I couldn’t find it in myself to be annoyed with the DMV employee. After all, I was 90% sure that such an attitude was written in their handbook. But it really didn’t matter because I was holding my permit and it wasn’t some sort of crazy dream I had last night.

“Thank you,” I told him sincerely, even if the sentiment obviously meant nothing to him as he called for the next person in line.

I mustered just enough patience to walk at a normal pace through the musty office building until I was outside, finding Changbin leaning against the side of his sports car, sunglasses covering his eyes. The sight of him, however, broke down every last bit of self-control I had previously tried to maintain. “I passed!” I squealed, holding up my limited learner's permit for his eyes to see, desperately wanting to show him.

Changbin smirked as he took the permit from me. “What did I tell you, Reynolds? It’s not that hard.”

“You helped me so much,” I said, overcome with emotion, looking at him and, for the first time in my life, seeing past the arrogance and wealth, sarcastic comments and designer clothes. “Thank you.”

Changbin nodded, rolling his shoulders back as he took another step closer. “I get an award, right?”

I gave him a questioning look, rolling my eyes when his finger tapped against the side of his cheek. “You can’t be serious.”

“It’s not a big deal, Reynolds,” Changbin whined.

I could always blame it on my mood, optimism bright as I grabbed Changbin’s shoulders to hold myself steady as I pressed my lips to the spot he had indicated. “Happy?”

Changbin didn’t respond, considering me with an expression that held a thousand different possibilities. His fingers were cold as they curled around my neck, thumbs digging into the skin at the base of my jaw. But his lips were warm, tentatively testing mine as he kissed me for the second time, leaving me with nothing but thoughts of Seo Changbin as I tasted spearmint gum when his tongue muscled its way inside.

May

Summer vacation meant classes were more trivial than usual, suffering through mindless lectures that meant nothing now that exams are over. But the school board insisted we stay until June. “Jisung’s ignoring me,” I told Changbin at lunch, locating the boy in question eating alone across the cafeteria.

Perhaps in the past, I’d never openly tell Changbin about any of my worries, but I was comfortable with him now and we understood each other a lot more than we did in the past. And he knew how much Jisung meant to me, although in a much different way than what I shared with Changbin. “Give him time,” he said, one hand on the back of my neck, massaging circles into the skin.

I shifted closer to Changbin, unconsciously seeking his warmth. “He’s going through a hard time alone.”

“He’s got family,” Changbin reminded me, gently pushing my tray closer. “But you need to eat, Reynolds.”

“That’s disgusting,” Felix quipped, turning his nose up at the two of us like he was too cool for such displays.

“Don’t be jealous,” Jeongin said, giggling like he was enjoying teasing Felix.

“Is it official, then?” Minho asked, leaning across the table despite Hyunjin’s attempts to move him out of the way.

“You don’t have to put titles to everything,” I told Minho.

“That’s just a bullshit excuse,” Minho argued, insistent as he eyed the two of us up and down. “Well?”

“We’re together,” Changbin said, hand settling over mine. “Will that satisfy you?”

“Very much,” Minho nodded, sitting back to whip out his phone. “The school’s gossip site needed some more drama.”

“There’s no drama,” I grumbled, glaring at Minho as he hurriedly typed away on his tiny phone keyboard.

“There always is,” Hyunjin said with a dramatic flourish of his hands. “Minho makes sure of it.”

“Stay out of my relationship,” Changbin warned Minho, even if the older boy appeared completely undeterred by Changbin’s threat.

Changbin was unusually quiet after school that day, clutching tightly to my hand as he walked us to his car. “You’re never like this,” I said, rolling my eyes playfully when he opened my door.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Changbin said. “This is how I always act.”

“Sure,” I said, waiting for him to start the car before continuing. “I think you have something to tell me.”

Changbin tensed at my words. “What makes you say that?”

“You’re too easy to read,” I teased him, laughing when he threw me an unimpressed look.

“Do you want some music as a distraction?” I said. “Fill up the awkward silence while you find the confidence to ask me what must be a very difficult question.”

“And you think I’m rude,” Changbin grunted, even as his hand quickly started to mess with the radio display.

I pulled my phone from my pocket, finding Jisung’s contact even if it was a futile affair to get any sort of response from him lately. His texts were few and far in between and he usually only answered if I asked about his mother. But I genuinely cared about his family because Jisung was important to me and I desperately wanted things to resume normally between us. I couldn’t help but think that my new relationship status with Changbin might have a lot to do with his silence.

“Should we just text each other?” I asked Changbin when we pulled up to my house.

He killed the engine without a word. “It’s nothing bad.”

“I figured that,” I said, turning around to face him. “You have my undivided attention.”

Another beat of silence passed between us and then...“I’ll be gone for the summer,” Changbin admitted, glancing up at me nervously. “And it might be too soon to ask this.”

“What do you mean?”

Changbin sighed, running his fingers through his black hair. “You could come with us, Reynolds. If you really wanted to.”

“On your vacation?”

“It’s more like a get-away,” Changbin grinned. “But you can think of it like that.”

I considered him carefully because I knew Changbin was always serious when it came to me. “You’re right, it might be too soon.”

Changbin sighed but didn’t appear too downtrodden. “It’s alright, Reynolds. We’ll go as slow as you want.”

“I’d like that,” I said, allowing him to lean across the middle to kiss me to his heart’s content.

June

Message to Han Jisung:

What happened?

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #seo changbin #seo changbin fanfic #enemies to lovers #han jisung

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galleryawa-blog · 6 years ago

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Join Us This Thursday 4/18! JUSTICE (WITHOUT TRUTH): John Lamont Ramsey

This event is presented as part of The in:VISIBLE Series at Gallery AWA

6:00pm Onwards Thursday April 18th 2019

John Lamont Ramsey spent 33 years in prison for a crime that he did not commit. With his legal team by his side, it was uncovered that the NYPD and Brooklyn District Attorneys office withheld exculpatory evidence during his trial that proved his innocence. After submitting a motion to overturn his conviction to clear his name, he remains focused on his justice that lingers in the balance and the time is now to launch a movement for us to be the voices of the wrongfully convicted to join the criminal justice reform.

PANEL DISCUSSION

Hosted by Gallery AWA

Moderator:

Chante Ramsey

Panelists:

Craig Phemister

John Lamont Ramsey

Tanya Williams

RAMSEY’S INJUSTICE CAN’T BE JUSTIFIED

#justiceforramsey

Buy your $5 Tickets HERE

(All proceeds go to Feeding the Homeless in Tompkins Square Park by the Interfaith League of Devotees )

ABOUT THE PANELISTS:

John Lamont Ramsey bio:

After serving thirty-three years in prison facilities in Update New York, John Ramsey was released in February 2015 to make his mark in this world as a visionary. During his incarceration, he decided to change his path in the most powerful way possible by helping others especially the youth inside and outside of the penal system. Through his work with adolescents over the years, he has strived to turn minds away from criminal activities and towards a brilliant future. Recently he created Liberty Investigation that takes on reviewing the cases of the wrongly convicted work closely with inmates and former offenders. In the near future, he plans to continue his work with youth that he did behind bars on the outside counseling at-risk and gang-affiliated youths through speaking at churches, community centers to continue his passion to make a difference.

Craig Phemister bio: www.napolilaw.com/

Mr. Phemister has been practicing law in New York since 1998. Since then, he has been fortunate enough to have handled several thousand cases and taken well over a hundred verdicts at trial.

Initially, his practice focused on personal injury but over the years, he began working on cases where people were claiming they were assaulted by the police, or wrongfully arrested and held against their will.

As time went on, Craig began seeing more and more of these cases until he had the eye-opening experience of seeing a judge in New York declare that a man who spent nearly 18 years of his life behind bars was “actually innocent”. The realization that our system was imperfect enough that someone can have 18 years of their life taken from them when they had nothing to do with the crime had a deep impact on his career.

Mr. Phemister began following stories and searching for people who claimed they were wrongfully convicted. He has been shocked to learn how often our investigation into these cases reveals evidence that was hidden from our clients at the time of their trial, or in several cases, witnesses who were coerced by detectives to identify our client, who have since come forward with the truth.

In any field of work, there are honest people and dishonest people – the same applies with police and law enforcement. Our work is to find their victims and ensure they have a voice to prove their innocence.

Tanya Williams bio:

Tanya Williams is a speaker with a proficient understanding of how to connect with a diverse audience. In a technology driven society that is channeling people, Tanya is on the frontline creating strategies to keep people connected, protected and educated. Her insight comes from an extensive twenty year career with the New York City Police Department. Her experience working in the Community Affairs Unit, patrol, and the NYC Police Museum, allowed her to work diligently with diverse populations throughout New York City. Additionally, volunteering as a Peer Support Officer, allowed Tanya to connect with her fellow officers from a very private and human approach. Her extensive and ongoing training outside of the NYC police department, were with licensed psychologists, psychiatrists, counselors and therapists. Her duties included, but not limited to speaking and listening to the officer by telephone. Meeting with the officer when necessary and referring the officer when extremely necessary to professionals for psychological evaluation. Tanya is a Certified Life Coach, owner and founder of The Truth Center, LLC. After retiring from the NYPD, she volunteered as a mediator for The Dispute Resolution Center. In Orange County, NY. Lastly, Tanya is a Certified Alcoholism and Substance Abuse Counselor., volunteering at Villa Veritas Foundation, Inc. Tanya specializes in motivating and guiding people towards taking effective and focused action with their lives, ultimately achieving a more balanced and fulfilling life. Tanya’s sole purpose is to develop opportunities for all people, outside of the negative stereotypes that society offers to us. In her career, Tanya has been recognized for her outstanding commitment as a team leader in Brooklyn, NY to the N.Y. Organ and Tissue Donor Network. Tanya has exceptional organizational skills, she was program Director for the youth board of Dare to Dream. She also was a recipient of a certification of special congressional recognition of outstanding and invaluable service to the community, presented by Ed Towns, Congressman, amongst numerous other awards and achievements. The strategic approaches that Tanya developed to foster relations, communication and enhance participation for all people, are now being called upon to do the same for The Liberty Partnership Program at Long Island University (Brooklyn Campus) and in the business community. Tanya’s presentations have been delivered extensively throughout New York State and includes some of the following organizations and agencies: Boys and Girls Club in Kingston, NY, Kerhonkson Elementary School, Rochester Youth Commission, Children’s Retreat at Peg Leg Bates Resort, Parents Council Anti –Violence Task Force, High School for Public Service, Queens Against Violence Initiative and The Dispute Resolution Center.

ABOUT THE MODERATOR:

Chanté Ramsey bio: www.vysynphotos.com | IG/FB/Twitter @vysynphotos

Chante Ramsey is an artist-entrepreneur with a passion to change the world! A self taught portraits and fashion photographer, she established her company, VySyn Photography in 2011 with a vision to show the world what a wonderful place it is one amazing human at a time whether capturing clients in her vibrant portrait shoots, NYFW inspired look book shoots or on the runway drive-by shots featuring the wearable artwork by local designers or those candid person to person moments in the streets of New York and beyond.

Her photography career began after the loss of her mother in 2005 to breast cancer at the age of 51. To escape her perpetual sadness and emptiness left behind from losing a parent after a tenuous battle, she used photography to fill that void. While working as co-founder of Synchronized Rhythm, a live performance cultural arts joint venture for underground artists in NYC, she fell in love with photography and began to build her portfolio. She has indulged her creative curiosity by constantly shooting the world around her and collaborating with other photographers on various projects to learn her craft. Her work has been featured at local venues including the Barbara Campbell boutique, Casa Frela Gallery, TeaFey Infusions, to name a few. And in Spring 2015 she launched her women’s photography initiative, the SHE Project, in tribute to the women in her life and in the memory of her mother. The SHE Project features women in her visual and podcast series who have found their purpose and are a living testament to the results of hard work and determination.

As she climbed her creative ladder, she soon attracted the interest of young burgeoning artists that she immediately took under her wing to mentor them through creative style coaching as well as a business resource giving them a few tips from establishing their photography business to connecting them to potential clients. Soon after that momentous experience, in 2016, she launched the Blueprint to Artistic Excellence, a nonprofit that seeks to provide robust training, professional coaching and entrepreneurial learning to youth ages 11-19 years old. Through her new path as a youth advocate, she explores varied approaches to teaching art and nurturing the artists within these youth as well as be that nurturing support that every young artist needs. Chante is a woman with a big heart and hopes to impact the masses whether through her art or through the art of the future artists that she interacts with. The imprint that she leaves behind will hopefully be one of seeking to live a fulfilled and happy life while showing compassion, empathy and love to everyone around her.

Case Timeline:

October 30, 1981: Murder of known drug trafficker, Vernon Green, by two robbers: Cole Coleman and a second suspect whom one witness under the influence named as “Ramsey”.

October 1981: Police investigation ensued. Initially, none of the witnesses prior to and at the murder scene identified the second defendant as John Ramsey. One of the witnesses spoke with the police department for the 2nd time and identified the defendant as the 2nd suspect though the witness admitted that he was under the influence of angel dust and marijuana.

December 1981: First defendant, Cole Coleman, was arrested for the murder of Vernon Green.

March 3, 1982: Second defendant, John Ramsey, was arrested for the murder of Vernon Green even after speaking with the ADA affirming that he didn’t know Vernon Green nor was he in the East Flatbush area at the time of the murder.

March 1982: During trial, no other alternative suspects were identified or interviewed nor did the defendant, John Ramsey, testify or provide witnesses to corroborate his whereabouts on the night of the murder. The jury returned a verdict of guilty of all three counts of the indictment. John Ramsey was sentenced to concurrent terms of imprisonment of 25 years to life for murder, seven and a half years for attempted robbery, and one year for possession of a weapon.

1982-2014: John Ramsey continued to proclaim his innocence then had to admit to the crime in order to have his release granted by the parole board.

February 2015: John Ramsey completed his prison sentence and was released on parole after serving 33 years.

2015: Cole Coleman’s arrest report was obtained. The report was never disclosed to defendant's counsel prior to his trial. The report revealed that the other person arrested the night of Vernon Green’s murder was DeWayne Coleman, Cole’s brother.

September 13, 2016: The Conviction Review Board (CRU) was notified of the undisclosed police report evidence.

June 15, 2018: The defendant, Cole Coleman, admitted in a meeting with CRU that John Ramsey was not at the scene of the crime and the police were aware of that. He admitted that his brother was with him at the robbery and murder of Vernon Green.

Present: Given the evidence and corroborating testimony years later by some of the witnesses supporting John Ramsey’s innocence, the CRU refuses to vacate/overturn his conviction.

#justiceforramsey #injustice #nyc #galleryawa

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