oh boy ☆ p.js | ✔

01

Transferring to a new school halfway into the first quarter of your junior year was bad. Joining college-level classes a quarter of the way into the school year was even worse. Not having the records of your auditory processing disorder transferred to your new school was the worst. Especially since none of your teachers would give you any sort of accommodations without medical proof and diagnosis.

You hadn't made many friends at your new school. The frustration from the bureaucracy of the school system, your inability to understand things, and your poor grades had made you even more of a social outcast than just being the new kid would. There was one kid you would talk to sometimes, an upperclassman named Jeno who didn't seem to have many friends either. Not that you two were friends, you sat together at the same lunch table where you ate in silence and did your own activities. He typically drew while you would be finishing up homework assigned the day before.

There was another boy who was in your history class that had attempted to befriend you. But Chenle's friendly chatter during instruction only made you miss even more information, and one day you'd snapped and told him to fuck off. You were too mortified to apologize, just trying to focus back on the lesson.

It was now halfway into the second quarter and every day, as soon as you stepped foot onto the school grounds, your mood became disgruntled. You never took out your headphones until you got into your first period classroom. When you got there one late November morning, to your horror, there was a seating chart projected onto the board. And you were at the back of the classroom. Cursing your lack of proximity to the teacher, you begrudgingly went to your new seat.

You hadn't even looked on the chart to see who was sat beside you, you just guessed that it was another student Mr. Han didn't like and thus had moved as far away from him as possible. Pulling out your notebook and pencils, you didn't even register that someone else had come into the room until they were sitting in the chair beside you.

Your head snapped up to look at them curiously. It was a brunette boy that you knew of, Park Jisung. He was pretty much Mr. Han's star student, raising his hand for every question in class and getting all of them correct too. Top scores were posted on the bulletin board outside the classroom, and the initials PJS were always beside a 100% - 105%. You were never on the bulletin board.

Looking away from him, you narrowed your eyes to read the seating chart again. Yep, Park Jisung was definitely your deskmate. And he didn't look thrilled about it. Neither were you. Now you'd just have someone beside you who knew everything and would make you look even dumber. Awesome.

"Morning." You mumbled to him anyway, clicking your pen a couple times.

"Good morning," Jisung replied politely, eyeing your hand as you clicked your pen again.

Despite your auditory processing disorder, the movement and your own control over the noise helped calm you down. You kept habitually clicking it as you focused back on your fresh page in your notebook. Another twenty seconds or so had passed when your pen was suddenly knocked from your hand.

You looked over at Jisung incredulously, almost in disbelief at the audacity of him. "You could've just asked me to stop, asshole."

"I did. And you didn't." He scowled back, and you merely rolled your eyes before reaching down to pick your pen back up.

The lesson today was a continuation of using the Unit Circle, something you kind of understood only because Mr. Han had passed out a printed copy of it for you all to fill in. You desperately copied down the work that Mr. Han did, but he often skipped steps and explained them verbally, and you couldn't keep up. Looking over at Jisung's paper, you added in notes of the steps you didn't have down in the margins as quick as you could. But Mr. Han was still talking, and now you were missing even more information.