how to be a rich b*tch | han seojun

chapter 4

"Ha-eun-a, wake up, you're gonna be late for school," School, such a gross word. I hate school. I mean, I already hated school before but now with moving here it's just gonna be worse, I'll have no friends and I'll be a lonely outcast. "I know you don't want to go, but I swear it'll get better once you're there,"

"No, it won't,"

"You're such a pessimist, come on, get off your ass before I drag you out,"

"That's child abuse,"

"You're not a child,"

"I'm still a child for another 8 months," Myungho just responds by pulling off my blanket, making me curl up from the cold.

"I left your uniform on your desk," Oh right, to make matters better, I had a uniform! Yi-pee! I would normally just wear a hoodie and then curl up in my hoodie the second the class started and just take a nap, but now I can't. I drag myself out of bed and I wash my face in the bathroom, hoping to bring some life back into my features (with no luck). I struggle to put on the uniform and then groan when I look in the mirror, maroon is not my color at all and it totally clashed with the green tie. I barely wear skirts anymore so I can't help but feel naked as the air snakes around my bare thighs. I sat at my new vanity and I planned on doing a full face but I'm not awake enough for that so I just fill in my eyebrows, curl my lashes, put on some light highlighter and a new lip oil I bought. I grab my favorite Jordans and grab my black backpack. "You're so slow, you're gonna be late," Myungho groans.

"Yay," I deadpan back.

"You're gonna make me late," He whines like a kid. Once I'm finally done we go down to the car and pull out of the apartment's parking lot.

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I'm standing in front of a teacher in the office and I fight the urge to launch myself out the window. "It says you're from Chicago," He smiles.

"Yeah, I am, born and raised,"

"That's really cool, I've never met an American," I just smile in response as he hands me a paper with everything I needed to know about the school and my schedule. "The American grading system is very different, they don't have rankings, right?" I nod, "After the first test we'll determine your ranking," Jumping out the window sounds really great right now. But I just nod and exit the room. I decided to try and find my way to the class I'm supposed to be in. I'm gonna be ranked, great, everyone here's a super genius, I'm for sure getting dead last place and eomma's gonna yell at me and then give me at least twenty tutors.

I finally find the class I'm supposed to be in and I take a deep breath before entering. The class was mostly empty except for a few students sleeping in the back. I shook out my nerves before deciding to take a quick bathroom detour before coming back since I still had another 7-ish minutes. I'll make a dramatic badass entrance, after I mentally prepare myself. I search for the washroom for another two minutes and when I finally find it it's already 5 minutes before 8. I walk in and I immediately notice the cleanliness of the huge washroom. I take a peek in the mirror and touch the dark circles under my eyes, sighing, I should have put some concealer under my eye. I spend the next few minutes pacing the washroom and thinking about what to say in case I have to introduce myself, "Hi, guys, I'm American, we have guns that go pow pow!" No, I shouldn't say that, they'll think I'm weird. I am weird. I start walking again once there's one minute left and I enter the class once everyone's been seated. "Oh! Ha-eun-a, just in time," The teacher who gave me my papers smiled. I nod awkwardly at the people's stares.

"Guess, this is Ha-eun, she's American," Is that my personality trait? American? I really don't want to be known as 'that one American girl'.

"Hi," I wave slowly, most people send warm smiles back but some people just ignore me.