Are we friends yet?

S.O.S

Have I mentioned that as a teenager, I loved going to school?

I could finally go to school again after my sister got me a crutch to help me walk. I was sweating profusely instead of feeling tears tricking on my eyes when I confessed to Miyeon that my right knee was hurt so badly. My jeans were torn and I could see blood.

I didn’t cry either when the owner of the black SUV finally found what I did to his car. If there had been tears, it could be tears of happiness, because when I apologised, instead of showing his anger, he asked her daughter to get some water for me and Miyeon immediately. But no, I didn't cry.

Noticing the pain that I was hiding, Miyeon delivered the explanation to the man— not leaving the detail of me being afraid of the dog which later we found that it was owned by his family. When Miyeon began a discussion on how we had to settle the problems, the man suggested us telling our parents and return after that. I remember exchanging stares with Miyeon—it was our silent agreement that involving our parents in the mess was a bad idea. However, the discussion ended by my last apology as the man stated once more that our parents needed to know about it. I left my contact before we left.

At home, my sister was furious. I had nothing to defend. Later at night, I talked to Miyeon over the phone. She was fine except the news that I heard— she was grounded for two weeks.

“I got a month, so of course I negotiated,” she had said.

And three days after that silly accident, I found myself staring at the steps that connected the floor where I was standing to where my classroom located. It was that time consuming just to think of how I would step my foot forward. It wasn’t as scary as facing a dog, but awful scenarios were playing in my head.

I needed help. But perfect, I found no one around the hallway as I was late.  Morning assembly had ended and the first class had  begun.

I was still standing and I still didn’t know how to function when a student ran, passing by me.

I sighed, looking at the floor. I was about to take my first step when I heard someone walking down. And a figure came to my vision. I met his face.

Chanyeol. If there were notorious students at school, obviously I would include him on the list. 

“You need help?” He tried to confirm when I silently questioned why he bothered to return when he was equally late. There was a trace of smile on his face. “We can walk together if it is ok for you.” He eyed my leg before we met in the eyes again. “I suppose you have a class to catch up as well.” He reminded that I hadn’t agreed with the offer.

Being aware that standing still wouldn’t bring me anywhere, I nodded. “If it doesn’t bother you,” I replied softly.

He smiled again. “Will it work if I get your crutch and you hold me as you hop?”

I smiled stiffly. “That could be more complicated if later we collapse together.”

“Oh, right.” This time I found a sheepish smile.

“Honestly, I’m just afraid to walk upstairs like this.” I didn’t care if I looked weak in front of a familiar stranger who was trying to offer his hand.

“Never done it before?” I caught his sincerity. When my silence became the confirmation of his question, he promised to walk behind me and assured that I would be alright.  “Let’s walk slowly.”

And when I was sure that I was secure with him walking behind me, I took my steps.

“We’re here,” he stated when we reached the second floor. We were welcomed by the empty corridor. “Is your class here? Or you still need to go to the third floor?”

“No, it’s here.” I pointed to the right wing. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” he said and then he let me know that he had to go to the language lab on the third floor for English class. He smiled once more time and I returned it. After that, he ran upstairs. When he wasn’t in sight, I resumed the struggle to reach my classroom.