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“I don’t like her. She’s rude.”

“You don’t like her because she’s not afraid of you,” Changwan said, joining them.

“No one cares about your opinion,” Somin said, and the two began to bicker.

“Come on.” Jihoon threw his other arm around Changwan’s shoulders, turning the three of them into a unit. “You can work off that extra energy in gym.”

7

MIYOUNG WAS EXHAUSTEDfrom fending off the curiosity of her new classmates. She’d grown accustomed to the few get-to-know-you inquiries she always encountered as the new kid in class. But this time was different, more intense. And she laid that blame directly at the feet of one Ahn Jihoon. His stunt with the note had garnered her a lot of unwanted attention, and she was starting to regret saving his useless life.

The large indoor gymnasium echoed with the chatter of her classmates, mingling in small subgroups of friends. Miyoung stood in the back alone. Her normal position.

The gym teacher was an unassuming man with the face of a toad and a name Miyoung didn’t bother to remember.

He informed the class that today’s lesson would be partner dodgeball. The students’ moans bounced off the high rafters.

The teacher handed out five red balls and explained the game. Students made teams of two, with one as the guard, the other as the guarded. Only the guard could touch the ball. If the guarded was hit, they were out. If the two separated, they were out. It seemed unnecessarily complicated to Miyoung.

The kids quickly began pairing up. Anytime someone approached her, Miyoung sent them a glare that stopped them untilall the kids were paired except for her and Jihoon, who walked toward her with a rueful smile. Miyoung’s frown deepened.

“I guess we’re partners,” he said, seemingly unperturbed by her glower.

“I can’t play.” Her annoyance was so thick it choked her. “My foot hurts.”

“Did you hurt it when you fell?” he asked in a whisper.

His question confused Miyoung. “I didn’t fall.”

“Not today, the other night.”

Her eyes narrowed as she tried to decide what level of idiotic he was.

“Begin.” The gym teacher blew a whistle. The kids spread out, some already squealing in distress before any balls were thrown. The loudest of whom was Changwan clinging to Somin’s shoulders.

Jihoon took the front position. Miyoung held on to the hem of his shirt with two fingers. They wove and dodged, Miyoung easily following Jihoon’s jerking movements. He stumbled as he dove to the right, avoiding the ball instead of blocking it.

Miyoung jerked back as another ball almost hit her in the face. And she found herself annoyed at the prospect of being one of the first pairs out.

She could practically hear Yena’s voice.No daughter of mine would lose at a human sports game. Especially one as insipid as dodgeball.

“You have to keep your eyes open. Pay attention to who has a ball,” she growled through gritted teeth.

“They’re moving too fast.”

“Left!” she snapped. He scooted over, barely batting away the ball.

Miyoung felt the beginnings of a headache, and each time she dodged a ball Jihoon failed to block, her stomach rolled. At first, she thought it was anger, until the nausea climbed into her throat.

“Are you okay?” Jihoon asked, glancing back at her.

“Of course.” She took deep breaths to slow her rapid pulse. She normally never got sick. Her bead bumped against her leg, like it sought to remind her that all was not normal.

“You don’t seem like you’re okay.”

“Watch it!” She pulled him to the side and narrowly avoided a ball. “Will you pay attention to the game?”

“Is this because of what you did the other night? How you fought that—”