"Heads up!"
See, when I hear 'heads up', I think 'look up' or 'pay attention', certainly not 'duck out of the way, there's an earth sized football hurtling your way!'
So, of course, that earth sized football hits me square between the eyes.
"Shit," I curse as I'm knocked to the ground, legs sprawled, dignity in literal shreds.
"Oh, sorry!" someone chortles, probably the one that threw the football, in obvious amusement.
"God, school seems so trivial on these days," I mutter, dusting myself off. I check my watch. Damn. Three minutes left until class starts.
I want to check the extent of the damage in the bathroom, but with a measly three minutes, there isn't enough time.
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"So, can anyone tell me what they know about migrants?"
I roll my eyes. Thanks to my class of buffoons, with an average IQ of literally ten, we've been reviewing the basics since the beginning of school. Four months ago.
I raise my hand in annoyance; obviously none of these slack-jawed, drooling, idiot children would know anything of the sort.
"Yes, Hyungwon?" Mr. Blanche asks, eyebrows raised.
"Migrants are people that move across border lines, often illegally, for any reason, but normally because of unrest or fighting in their home country." I answer.
I know I sound like a know-it-all, and if I'm being honest, I am a know-it-all. What else is there to be at this school, other than a slut or a cheerleader or an emo or a jock?
It's not like anyone really pays attention anyways in high school - whether it is senior year or not. Everyone says they do, writing HAGS in school yearbooks and starting drama over boys they don't even like that much... but really, no one cares.
I can't wait for college. College is so much more open. A migrant, full-blooded Korean with a slight accent over his English like myself wouldn't be given a second glance in college.
That's why I can't wait to get out of this dump. So I can go to a place where my opinions really matter. Where I can start to do what I really want to do without judgement from high schoolers who whisper petty secrets behind cupped hands up to ears. The second I get out of this place, the second my life will really begin.
__________________________________________________________
Finally, the day is over. I make my way determinedly out of the front doors to the front of the school where the parent pick up pavilion resides. My friend Minhyuk is supposed to give me a ride so we could hang out at his house with a couple of friends after school, but he's late. As usual. I shake my head, but smile a bit at the thought of him. Frivolous and a happy virus, he has the ability to brighten the school days that seem to drag into the pits of hell.
As I'm waiting, I notice the school photographer, Wonho, snapping pictures with his camera.
Wonho... everyone has heard of him. His position as the school's enigma is well-known and common topic for gossip. Gloriously hot, and I guess constantly unavailable, the rumor is that he's gay, but I don't buy into that. Does a guy really have to be gay to not be into the girls at our school? I think not. I feel the same way. Well, you know girls. They've gotta make up something to soften the blow of rejection.
Plus, he's constantly traveling. I guess his dad is some hotshot label head CEO or something in Korea, and he has lots of dough to spoil his only son. In fact, anytime Wonho wants a culture trip, the rumor is that the weeks at school where he's gone, he's traveling the globe taking pictures with his dad's money.
While it sounds fantastic to gossip about, it's not my business, so I normally just stay out of it. If he feels the urge to share with us his personal life, then by all means! I'll be his personal spokesperson!
Anyways, as I'm watching him, mid-shot, he gets a phone call. The call startles him and he nearly drops a very expensive looking camera.
I laugh behind my hands. Hot as he is, it's nice to know that he gets scared and has flaws like the rest of us normals.
Wonho pulls the phone out of his pocket, smiles when he sees the caller ID - a girlfriend, perhaps?- then answers the phone.
I can't hear what he's saying because of the distance between us, but the conversation seems pleasant, and his smiles keep coming. Suddenly, the person on the phone must be saying something that makes him unhappy, because the smile drops from his face instantly.
The conversation continues, the mood feeling somber, even from where I'm at, and though I can tell it must be intensely personal, I can't turn myself away and ignore it.
Eventually, after some time of the same atmosphere, the conversation ends, Wonho pockets the phone. His handsome face seems deep in thought.
He slowly packs up his camera into it's carrying case and sets it down beside him in a nearby bench.
I think, stupid in my lateness, that his girlfriend must have broken up with him.
I feel bad for him despite our lack of friendship, and without me even realizing, my feet are moving and I have made me way over to him.
"Are you okay?" I ask softly. I don't know if it's even my place to do anything, but his eyes make me feel like comforting him.
It's quiet so long that I think he's either ignoring me or didn't hear me.
Then, he says "I'm fine" without looking up.
"You don't seem fine," I respond gently. I don't want to pry, but he really doesn't.
Suddenly, his voice changes. "If you must know, my boy-" he looks up and cuts off abruptly, startling at my face, and then clearing his voice.
"Well, my girlfriend broke up with me." He finishes, quietly, looking back down.
"I thought so," I mumble to myself. "I'm sorry," I apologize, loud enough for him to hear me.
He looks up at me, eyes forlorn, staring.
"It's okay," he says slowly. "I'm really better off. I just... it's not like it was real anyways..." his gaze drops.
Despite my best intentions, I feel for him. His little boy voice works its way up into my heart and buries itself there. I relate to him and to how he feels... something that hasn't happened to me in a long time. He sees the fragility and falseness of situations, something I believed that only I could notice. In response, without conscious thought, my heart beats a little out of turn.
Gently I shuffle by him and sit down next to him on the bench.
"What are you doing?" he asks, his sad eyes back looking into mine.
I shrug. He demeanor seems to be more standoffish now, thinking I probably feel bad for him. "Just sitting."
He rolls his eyes. "I don't need your pity."
I look back over at him, questioning. "Are my legs not allowed to get tired? I believe that's what these benches are here for..."
He narrows his eyes at me, as if trying to gauge the seriousness of my statement, but when I flash him a small smile, he turns away.
Wonho scoffs slightly, and then laughs lightly. I'm happy that I got him to smile, and have to force myself to keep my smile in check.
He wipes his eyes, and then looks over at me, questions in his eyes.
"What?" I ask self-consciously. Why is he looking at me like that? Do I have something on my face? I have the physical urge to check, but I manage to hold it off for fear of looking like a fool.
He turns toward me, angling his legs towards me, suddenly a lot more animated.
"So," he starts. "Before we... broke up, my... girlfriend and I had planned to go on an excursion. I don't know if you knew this, but I travel a lot. I like the culture, the new people, the pictures and worlds I can freeze and keep and take home with me through my camera. You could say it's something I do a lot... "
He pauses, looking down, almost nervous. But why would he look nervous?
"I've taken her, meaning my girlfriend, on these trips a few times, and I certainly didn't foresee something like this ever happening...
"Meaning: I paid for everything ahead of time, and because the trip was supposed to be tomorrow, there's no way to get a refund."
I look at him in confusion. Is there a reason why he suddenly decided that it was 'get to know each other time' and suddenly starting sharing his personal information with me? I knew about the culture trips of course, and had fantasized of doing the same, but what does that have to do with me?
"Well, because of... What happened... I have an extra ticket with no owner and no way to get a refund. So, I don't know... maybe you'd like it.. And want to come with me?"
I stare at him in shock. Who is this boy that offers plane tickets and around the world trips for free on a whim? And why would he offer to me?
He looks down nervously, probably interpreting it for the worse. He wrings his hands and mutters, "you've probably heard the rumors. It's kind of hard for me to make real friends around here, friends that don't care who my dad is or want to use our friendship as some kind of prop for attention from people... I don't really have any other options and I thought I might as well... why not you?"
Looking at his face, down turned, my decision is made. It's stupid and irrational and childish of me, but because of that extra beat of my heart, that feeling in my chest for a misunderstood boy, that longing to leave behind childish things... I actually agree.