Owning You - A Na Jaemin Fanfic

10. The Wrong Idea

The last bell rings. I am filing out the door, right behind Juda.

She spies him the same moment I do.

She freezes.

Jaemin is waiting at the door.

She runs out of the classroom, pushing past the crush at the door, using her sinewy, almost mannish hands to muscle her way through, and she is out, and stumbling, faltering a little in a sudden rush of awkwardness, unable to believe her eyes, that the boy that she likes, the gorgeous boy who saved her and protected her, is actually here in person, standing right outside the door, the same way he stood last week.

He turns his head, and smiles at her, this strange girl who likes her thorns, and grazes the back of his hand across her thin shoulder.

"Hey," his voice is soft, gentle. "Juda. How are you?"

So. He came to see her. Again. What was I thinking? Don't care too much, my mother had said. She was right.

Stupid, stupid.

"I - " I hear her whisper. For a moment, I panic. Should I run back into the classroom? But why should I? I am Kim Haeri. I am not a coward. I straighten my shoulders. I will ignore them. I will pretend that I don't see them. I take a step, and another. I keep my eyes on my shoes to avoid looking at him. But my eyes are drawn to Juda, and I think how bold and energetic she looks, shiny with hope and love and joy, her stark and spartan hair, cut blunt to her collarbone, standing out in painful contrast to the rest of us with our salon-styled hair, and our glossy long locks.

"Haeri." I feel a weight on my backpack, stopping me in my tracks.

I look up.

My heart quickens as I meet his gaze, his dark eyes holding me there, his hand releasing the strap of my backpack, but I can't move; it is as though he has reached out his hand and touched me.

"Jaemin." My voice is cold. I have on my haughty look. I perfected it from observing my mother.

"You are ignoring me now?"

"Um. I didn't see you."

"Liar." He is smiling that quirky little lopsided smile that does things to my heart. "And here I was, waiting ten whole minutes for you."

"Me?" I squeak. Not Juda? I feel the little hard knot of pain melt away in my chest. He reaches out, and tugs at my hair band. It is emerald green today. He smirks, and stuffs it in his pocket. "Hey," I say, indignant. "You've already got my red hair band." He laughs, and tousles my hair. Nobody has ever tousled my hair since I went to high school. I like it. It makes me feel tiny, childish. Like he finds me cute. Like he likes me.

"Of course I'm waiting for you. Why else would I be here?" He grabs my backpack off my shoulders. "This looks heavy." I hold onto the straps, glaring at him.

"No, you don't. Nobody touches my backpack." Our hands get tangled together, trying to wrest the backpack from each other. He laughs, and I giggle.

"You're so possessive," he murmurs, his gaze a lazy caress on my flushed face. He says softly, "I came to walk you to your limo." I lean in towards him, drawn as if by invisible wires, breathing him in, my head spinning with the warmth of his smile, the scent of his skin. He dips his head low, and inhales, his nose tickling my hair. "Ah. Lemons."

Something scraps behind me, the heel of a shoe rasping on a tile.

Juda.

I turn around.

Her face has paled. She is motionless, utterly still, except for her eyes; they dart, back, forth, back forth, as she looks from Jaemin to me. Me to Jaemin. Back to me. Her face falls apart. It breaks. There is an awful comprehension in her eyes, a mix of shock and hurt and humiliation. I recognise it at once; I looked like that the day he waited for her outside the door.

"Oh. Juda." Jaemin looks surprised to see her. He has forgotten about her. So much for the kind, caring champion of the underdog. Today, he is beautiful, callous, careless; he dispenses charm and attention as easily and as swiftly as he takes it all away. "You're settling in fine? No bullying today?" His eyes are aloof, cool, quite unlike the warm, soft eyes of earlier, before he saw me. I wonder why? Is he drawing a line? Making it clear to her - to me? - that it was just concern he felt for her that day? A goodlooking guy like him must have had so many girls falling for him he'd have recognised the signs straightaway. She shakes her head slowly, as if in a daze, still looking at him.

"Well." He clears his throat awkwardly. "See you around. You ready, Haeri?"

He turns with relief to me. There is something unnerving in the way Juda's eyes are fixated on him. His eyes warm at once, sweeping over me. "Pretty Haeri," he murmurs, his eyes caressing. Over his shoulders, I can see her eyes boring into mine. They are exposed, raw; this girl doesn't hide her feelings. Unlike me. She doesn't wear a mask. The air bristles with her pain and her jealousy and her rage. I hate you, she is screaming inside. He was waiting for you. Not me. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I offer Juda a stiff smile, because I almost pity her. She doesn't smile back. She doesn't look away, either. Jaemin and I walk down the corridor, our hands swinging a little, almost touching at our sides; at the end of it, I turn, and look back. She hasn't moved. She is still staring at us.

"She likes you," I murmur, hearing the soft tread of our shoes on the carpet.

"Are you jealous?" He gives me a faint smile. He doesn't even bother to deny it. I almost want to laugh at his sheer arrogance.

I shrug. "No. Why would I be jealous?" I give him a cool glance. "I'm just saying. You waited for her that day. Until the bus came. It probably gave her ideas."

"Oh, you saw." He looks uncomfortable. "I was just helping her. Making sure she didn't get bullied after school."

"She got bullied this morning." Why am I even talking about her? I'm tired of her. I just want to talk about us. About him and me.

"Oh?" he frowns.

"Someone dumped garbage in her locker. And spray-painted the wall. Your name was on it." I keep walking. He grinds to a halt. I stop, and stare at him. His face is alarmed.

"My name?"

"Yeah. Stay away from Na Jaemin." I give him an icy smile. "Well, not the exact words, but close. It was very dramatic."

"Hey, listen. I don't want you to get the wrong idea."

"About what?"

"You know. Me. And her." His face is embarrassed. "Like I said. I was just helping her. That's all."

"Ah." I look at him beneath my eyelashes. He looks flustered.

"Haeri. Seriously. There's nothing going on between me and her." He is frowning. He looks adorable.

"Okay, then." I say softly. "I won't. Get the wrong idea, I mean."

"Okay." He is smiling. He looks relieved. "But you're free to get ideas about me. Just saying."

"Do girls really fall for this line?" I am grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

"I wouldn't know. You're the first girl I'm saying it to." He is laughing.

I walk a little ahead of him as we near the entrance, and feel him behind me, dragging his fingers along the wall as he follows me. We walk silently all the way to my limo, and he waits as I clamber in, and the driver shuts the door, and gets into the front seat.

The limo driver starts the car, and there is a tap on the side window. Hold on, I say, and I lower it, and Jaemin leans his forearms on the base of the open window, his head almost on my level. He leans in through the gap to kiss me, one hand on my chin, his thumb on the side of my jaw; I have just barely caught on, and then he is gone. He kissed me, I think in a daze, he kissed me. In the car park. In broad daylight. On a school day. I wonder if anyone saw, and I feel the heat climb in my cheeks. I stare at my reflection in the rear view mirror; my face is flushed, a delicate dusky rose staining my normally pale skin. I look the way I feel: deliriously, stupidly happy. I smile all the way home. Jaemin, Jaemin, Jaemin.