NINETEEN | CHANGLIX

YEAR TWELVE

THE TWELFTH YEAR Changbin faced a lot of changes.

From changing schools to making new friends, the boy had only just begun the journey that was yet to reach the stage of confusing complexities and tetosterone driven decisions.

What had seemed like an eventful year, would soon become a blur, however that didn't change the immense relief Changbin - who had near almost forgotten the bliss of not having homework due the next day - felt the minute the final school bell of the year rang out in victory.

The shrill of the ring, which had never sounded more melodious, was followed by a long-held sigh from a mousy haired boy, his loosley fitted glasses bound to have fallen off, had he had a more energetic response. For the first time that year Chagbin saw the worry dissappear from his features, gratitude softly painting it instead.

"I can't believe we just survived our first year," the boy awed in shock, his momentarily positive attitude being threated with panic, "B-but its only one of the rest to endure — not to mention high school."

Unlike Changbin, who had managed to avoid being picked on by joining the soccer team (a sport he didn't actually mind and happened to be quite good at), his friend Minho hadn't acquired such luck, the immaturity of middle-schoolers and new claimed superiority of the upper years making him a constant target for inconsiderate jokes and pranks.

Although the soccer team consisted mostly of dickheads, which only happened to be a few of many, they saved their egos for outside training, actually showing a decent side to Changbin. This meant that as long as Minho was close by his side, nothing more than a few comments could be made.

"You have other things to worry about," Changbin comforted before realising that 'worry' was most defineltely not the right word, "I mean didn't you say you were going to read every book in the dystopian section of the public libary this summer?"

"And the sci-fi section," Minho added excitedly, opening the door to be hit with the smiling rays of sunshine, "Oh there he is! I see him."

Both boys rushed hurriedly down the front stairs, narrowly dodging a whole nerf gun being thrown, forgotten bullets scattered around the lawn surrounding the building, just in time to to be met safely with the welcoming smile of Chan.

"Look at you both," the blonde laughed at their excitement, dimples popping, "It's feels like just yesterday you came home crying because somebody convinced you all the first-years get their heads stuck in toilets."

Minho pouted, lightly hitting his step-brother, "It's not my fault that you didn't warn me!"

Chan rolled his eyes at his brother's strop, "You're lucky you have Changbin. The minute you told me about the kid who sat next to you at lunch and offered you snacks I knew it was him!" The older boy, who blamed having to move up to high school on his brother's lack of protection, patted the Changbin's head of hair softly, "Not everyone has such a good heart."

The way home was filled with hearty conversation, Chan joking about how Minho would read as fast as the speed of light — his sibling proceeding to correct him saying that if that were the case he'd need the library in the neighbouring town too for the speed of light was so incredibly fast that it was written in standard form.. Minho's lack of their humour never bothered them though, the two boys one of the only few who made him comfotable enough to release all the facts that he had kept to himself in fear of being judged.

Upon reaching Chan's house, the older didn't move to step inside, assuring his brother that he would be back in time before the public libary would close so they could collect his first stack of books. Instead he continued to walk with Changbin, only stopping a few steps away from his house.