After school, Changwan abandoned Jihoon for the new afterschool academy his father had signed him up for. Which meant no distracting video games to help him ignore his worries. So Jihoon leaned against the glass of the bus shelter and pulled out a pair of headphones while he debated just going to the PC room alone. He had a good view of the school gates and recognized Miyoung’s smooth gait as she exited. Pretending to fiddle with his phone, he watched her slow approach to the bus shelter. He pinpointed the moment she recognized him among the students waiting by the pause in her step. Then she continued forward and took a seat on the bench, never acknowledging his presence.
Jihoon let his head rest against the glass and watched her out of the corner of his eye. She sat staring straight ahead. He didn’t know why it looked so odd until he realized everyone had their eyes glued to their phones. Everyone except Miyoung and a group of students chattering at the other end of the bus stop.
“I heard she got kicked out of her last school,” said a boy short enough to look like he was still a first year. He had a sprinkle of freckles on an upturned nose and a pointed chin. He reminded Jihoon of devious elves from his halmeoni’s stories.
The group shot dagger glances at Miyoung. Their vitriol seemed overblown. Miyoung had only been at their school for two days. What could she have done to warrant such hatred?
“I heard she got kicked out of the last three schools,” said a girl as she sucked on a lollipop, clicking it against her teeth as she spoke. Jihoon recognized them as friends of Baek Hana, a crew that used intimidation and rumors to maintain their popularity. Miyoung slumped low in her seat, as if she’d become invisible if she were small enough.
“I heard that’s not even her real face.” The girl had a slight lisp from the large braces decorating her teeth. They made her lips puff out and gave her a disposition more sour than the cherry lollipop she sucked on. “She definitely got plastic surgery.”
“You’re totally right. I can see the surgery scar,” said the boy.
Fed up, Jihoon pulled his headphones from his ears and held them out to Miyoung.
When she only stared at them, he pushed them into her ears himself. She jerked back at the sudden contact, but he persisted until she wore the earbuds.
Miyoung looked up, perplexed.
He gave her a grin and a shrug by way of explanation. Then went back to leaning against the bus shelter.
She lowered her head, but she kept the headphones in.
The bus pulled up, and the catty clique boarded. Miyoung stood, but Jihoon held her back.
“Let’s wait for the next one.” He gestured toward the back window where the gossipers glared from their seats. Miyoung didn’t reply, but she let the bus pull away without them.
“Why would you wear headphones without music?” She handed back the silent earbuds.
“If I listen to music, I can’t hear what other people are talking about.”
“So you spy on people?” she asked.
“I don’t make them talk about their private life in public.”
“Creep,” Miyoung muttered.
Jihoon shrugged. “You have a funny way of saying thank you.”
“For what?”
“They stopped gossiping. When they think you can’t hear, they lose interest.”
Miyoung stared at him so long he felt the urge to fidget. “You say that like you have experience with it.”
“You say that like you care if I do,” Jihoon said as the next bus rolled to a stop in front of them.
Miyoung’s lip curled before she boarded the bus.
She took a seat in the back and Jihoon slid in beside her. She scowled, but didn’t protest.
“Why did you let those kids talk about you?” Jihoon asked. “You could have taken them.”
“If I cause a scene, they’ll start to pay more attention to me.” Jihoon lifted a brow. It seemed they had something in common, a need for privacy. He tucked that tidbit away to chew on later.
“Thank you.” The words were almost lost among the rumble of the bus and the chatter of the other passengers.
“What?” Jihoon asked, leaning closer.
“If you didn’t hear, then I’m not repeating it,” Miyoung said.
“You’re welcome,” Jihoon said. “It was no problem. I’m good at avoiding negative attention.”
Miyoung studied him, her eyes so dark and direct that he wanted to lean away. “Oddly, I think I believe that.”
The pitying look made Jihoon squirm. To combat the nervous tension in his