"Why did you choose fifty though?" Fatou asks me, popping a fry into her mouth. I sigh, eating at my own serving of fries.
"Because alcohol gives you an insane amount of nonsensical sense," Leila deduces, stealing some of Fatou's fries. One of the thefts are accompanied by a kiss, and I roll my eyes at that too.
It's too much of a reminder of the horrible Kiss Bet I've got going on right now.
"At least she still defended Jimin whilst intoxicated," our other friend, Rosé, says. Her long blonde hair falls lazily against her back, accentuating her petitely shaped shoulders. "That's something worth mentioning, right?"
"I mean, it's not like she saved me from an incoming car of anything," Jimin teases, nudging me in the side.
"Seriously, this is the thanks I get?" I ask, fake glaring at him. But his charming smile is enough to make me break out a smile of my own. He does that every time - I swear, it's like some sort of best friend witchcraft that he has on his side. "In another universe, Jung Hoseok would've kissed you, you know."
"I know," Jimin says with a wink, sly smile on his face. "I wouldn't have minded much, either."
"Jimin!" I gasp, almost throwing him with a fry. But that would be wasting food. And there's nothing I hate more than wasting food. "How could you say that? We're talking about my arch nemesis, here."
"I'm just saying," he shrugs, taking another bite of his salad, "it's not like he's bad to look at." With that, he turns his head towards Hoseok's table in the cafeteria, where he usually sits with his best friends, Suga and Zelo.
Those, of course, aren't their real names - but rather some wannabe cool nicknames they decided one random day to go by. I remember thinking how stupid the idea was when they first started it, and now ironically, I can't really remember their real names. Hoseok has one too: J-Hope. Like I'd ever call him that.
In a cafeteria filled with a bunch of of high schoolers, the dude still manages to stand out like a damn highlighter. Which works out in one of two ways: either I get to humiliate him in front of a large group of spectators if I win the bet, or I end up sucking face with him in front of, like, half the school.
Cue dramatic music as I wonder how my life has come to this point.
Following Jimin's lead, my whole table decides to stop and stare at said nemesis, each one probably checking him out or whatever. I don't do that.
I prefer to glare at the person who put me in this situation. You know, besides Jimin's lack of stopping this and my big damn drunk mouth. Hoseok's wearing a white pair of twisted white trousers matched with an oversized collar shirt and a freaking grey flatcap.
Like, who even wears that in today's day and age? He looks like the world's youngest grandpa, if you ask me.
I don't care if I'm being extra nitpicky today; I'm allowed, okay?
"I have to admit," Leila says, breaking the silence at our table "Hoseok does have a certain... charm about him, you know?"
"Of course he does," Rosé adds on, shrugging a bit. "He's always smiling and laughing and he's always kind to people."
I snap my head back to face the two of them incredulously. "Charm? Friendliness?" I shriek, basically horrified. "Are we talking about the same Jung Hoseok here?"
Leila shrugs too, stealing another fry from Fatou. The latter takes a sip of her soda. "I'm just saying, push comes to shove, he might not be the worse person to end up kissing."
"He does have kissable lips," Fatou comments, making the whole table look at her in unison. She clears her throat, clearly stunned by the multiple stares. "I meant it as an observation, obviously."
"Ugh, that's not the point," I groan, turning my attention back to my delicious food. Well, as delicious as high school cafeteria lunch is, anyway; good thing I'm not a picky eater. "There's more at stake here than just kissing Hoseok. Like, just think about it guys. If I lose, I'd be jeopardizing my dignity."
"You mean more than you did when you woke up next to him yesterday?" Jimin asks, adding fuel to the flame, salt to the wound.
"Jimin!" I hiss, fake punching him against his arm. He pretends to wince, but we both know I didn't do any damage whatsoever.
"What?" the rest of the table asks in unison, all their eyes wide.
"It was nothing major," I grumble, trying to hide behind my soda cup. "Just that after the party, Hoseok accidently spilt some alcohol on his shirt and Jimin lent him his."
"That doesn't explain how you woke up next to him?" Leila comments, one eyebrow raised.
"Turns out that Kinny here was so far gone that she couldn't drive herself like the designated driver she always is, so Mr Jung decided to step up and assist," Jimin says, wiggling his eyebrows. I understand now more than ever why my mom treats him like her long-lost son; she had the exact same response to all this.
"Wait, so you guys spent the night together then?" Rosé asks, her round eyes even wider now.
"No, no, no," I answer immediately, getting what she's implying. "The rest of the night after the party might be blurry, but I can tell you right now that literally nothing happened, okay?"
My friendgroup shake their heads, but their eyes seem to be filled with disbelief and other layers of mischievous thoughts. "Sure, Kinny," Leila says, even winking.
I throw my hands up in exasperation, resisting the urge to roll my eyes all the way to Antarctica. "The point is that I have way more to lose in this wager than Hoseok. I mean, what's fifty bucks to a public kiss?"
"That's on you for setting the standard so low," Jimin says, finishing the last bit of his salad. "And high for yourself at the exact same time." He opens his sparkling water after he says that. And not the flavoured ones, either - the plain one, with zero sugar that tastes like bad dreams with added fizz.
How he enjoys that is honestly beyond me.
"Where's the Jimin that defended me from Felix last night?" I ask, looking at my best friend with my best look of betrayal.
"He got ditched by you to go to the very person I was defending you from," he comments, taking a sip of his beverage.
"Yeah, well, you like the idea of being kissed by Jung Hoseok, so we're even," I reply, sticking my tongue out. He laughs, and once more, I struggle to bite back my own.
"Wait, Felix was at the party Saturday?" Rosé asks, finishing her own meal.
"We were as surprised as you, girl," Fatou says, giving up on the idea of eating her own lunch and handing the fries to Leila. "Man was dressed from head to toe in dripwear as well."
"Really, like what?" Rosé asks, leaning in a bit forward.
"Well..." Fatou begins, but I pull a face and tune out of the conversation before she can go any further.
The last thing I need right now is a reminder of what my ex-boyfriend wore on the night I was least expecting to see him.
I glance back at Hoseok's table across the cafeteria, glaring once more at the cause of 59% of my problems. Yes, 59%, because he's certainly more than half.
Which I guess is better than when he was 75% of my problems during the Prank War. Ugh, having an arch nemesis is exhausting.
As if sensing my gaze on him or something, Hoseok turns his head in my direction. Unfortunately, that means he catches me in the action of giving him quite the scrutinizing gaze. He smirks, much to my dismay, and lifts an eyebrow in a challenging manner. I shoot him a defiant glare, not willing to back down, even though I was the one caught in the act.
"So much for mortal enemies," Fatou says suddenly, making me snap my attention back to my friends. "Yet here you are, making googly eyes in the flesh."
"I wasn't making googly eyes," I scoff, frowning a bit. "I was glaring. Which is way more menacing, by the way."
And as if the universe enjoys taunting me in unexpected moments, Jung Hoseok suddenly appears in my peripheral vision. His signature grin is on full display as he leans against the back of a chair at our table.
"Good day, lovely people," he greets, grinning at each person at the table. "I trust everyone is well."
"More than well, I'd say," Jimin says, smiling up at Hoseok. I give him an incredulous look, to which the man just shrugs.
"What? He greeted and asked how we were," is his quick defense, going back to his flavourless water.
The rest of the table give small waves back, mumbling their responses. I just pull a face. "What do you want, Hoseok?"
"Now, now, King," he says, looking the definition of nonchalant. The small dimple on his cheek pops when he does that, but I pretend that it's a mole sucking in his face instead. "I come in peace."
"Peace is when you're on the opposite end of the cafeteria, where you were this entire damn time," I reply, crossing my arms over my chest.
"Says the one who looked across said cafeteria at my table," he says, earning a few giggles from my friends.
"What's your point, Jung?" I say, wanting to cut this interaction short as soon as possible.
"Well, I just came to ask if you're still up to completing the bet," he says, shrugging. "Me and my friend were working out the math around, and we don't think you'll be able to make it."
"Math? What math?" I ask with my brows furrowed.
"Well, there's 52 weeks in a year, right? But only about 27 of them are dedicated towards the actual school year, you know?" he starts, laying it all out like some sort of scientific method. "Minus, of course, approximately ten weeks for the purpose of exams and test weeks. And then you can't forget about the public holidays in between either."
I look at him like he has two heads. Not because of what he's saying, but because I cannot possibly fathom why on earth him and his friends worked out things relating to maths for fun.
"Also, we know that there are times when y'all feel bloated and not exactly in the mood for any company, so that's another week or two down the drain," he continues, counting it on his fingers again. "And an estimate of three more weeks in the event that possible candidates either turn up as a no-show or bail right before the kiss."
"Wait," Leila interjects, her face looking intrigued and amused at the same time. "So you're basically saying that she only has ten weeks this year to kiss fifty people?"
"Give or take, yeah," Hoseok answers, looking very proud of himself.
I, of course, am the very opposite of that. "What?" I exclaim, counting it all in my head again. "That can't possibly be right." I know I'm not the best at Mathematics, but that can't be the real sum, can it?
It was bad enough when I realised that I had to kiss that many people in the first place, now there's basically a time crunch as well?
"Oh trust me, King," Hoseok says, smirking, "it most certainly is."
I look at him in disbelief, before looking at my friends. As expected, they're all trying to hold in their laughter. In fact, their faces are so puffed that I'm surprised Hoseok doesn't mistake them for balloons.
"You guys suck," I tell them, keeping my arms very much crossed. Giving you that tantrum throwing toddler aesthetic and everything.
"I thought you might react that way," Hoseok says, deciding to pull back the chair and actually sit down on it. "Which is why, the same as Saturday, I come offering a truce."
I give him the same look I gave him on Saturday. "A truce?"
"Yeah, an agreement to forfeit the bet and continue our lovely lives," he says, still looking smug. "You don't have to kiss fifty people, and I don't have kiss you."
I raise a sceptical eyebrow at him, scanning him for a fib. I mean, ending the stupid bet right here and right now would make things easier for me.
Actually, sanitary wise it also makes the most sense, right? One word from me, and all the problems from the past weekend will be over with for good.
But something about the idea of agreeing with Jung Hoseok about something sends shivers down my spine. The wrong shivers, like you're trapped in a horror movie or something.
As if this is a trap that I'm innocently walking into, only to reveal that I've been turned into an even bigger spectacle.
Not just that, but agreeing to this type of truce now means that he sort of wins the war. I mean, neither one of us have pulled a prank in a while now, and the first public bicker we have ends in a forfeit proposed by Jung Hoseok himself?
No, sir - I don't think so. Not to mention, I still have a problem with saying no.
"Why would you even suggest this truce?" I ask, suspicion evident in my tone.
He leans back in his chair, a casual look on his face. "Call it mercy, King," he says with a shrug, eyes trained on me. "I figured I'd save you from the embarrassment of attempting the impossible. Fifty kisses in such a short time? Even I wouldn't be able to do that."
And just like that, a figurative fire lights itself under my ass. Hoseok just made the biggest mistake ever: admitting a weakness in my presence. Which is enough to fuel me with enough adrenaline to have the Apollo 11 make two trips to the moon and back. Specifically Apollo 11, because I had this massive celebrity crush on Neil Armstrong back in the day.
Don't ask. It's a long story.
I narrow my eyes at him, but my smile quirks up deviantly. "Oh, Jung," I say, leaning forward in my seat. "Thanks, but no thanks. I'll just have to beat you at this too. And proof you wrong."
There's an airy chuckle that escapes him, and he glances back to his friends at their table. Most of them are looking back at us, like we're some sort of enjoyable program. Even my friends are silent and tuned in.
"Ever the stubborn one, Bennett," he says, nodding his head a little. "Well, okay. But don't say I never offered an out."
"I know a trap when I see one, Hoseok," I answer, remembering the numerous pranks during which I'd be hit unexpectedly. "Not this time, Pranker Boy."
Hoseok laughs again, actually wiping fake tears from his face. "Whatever you say, Pranker Girl," he replies, joining in on the lame nicknames we called each other during our tween years. He gets up, greeting the table one more time before focusing his attention on me again. "I guess I should probably wish you good luck, right Ben Kingsley?"
He walks away before I can respond. But that doesn't stop me from calling after him, "I don't need luck, Jung! I have my stunning personality on my side."
When he's gone, I look back at my friends, each with an amused expression of their own. "Yeah, no," Jimin says, looking at me with a crooked grin on his face. "You'll definitely need luck."
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