If there was one thing Min hated more than Mondays, it was being the new girl. Fresh uniforms, unfamiliar hallways, and too many curious eyes. Perfect.
She stepped into Class 10-B, clutching her schedule like it was a lifeline.
"Ah, you must be Min Jiwoo," said a cheerful voice.
The English teacher, Miss Park, smiled warmly. "Everyone, this is Min. She's joining us starting today. Let's make her feel welcome."
Thirty silent stares.
Nods. Maybe a few fake smiles.
And one boy at the back—arms crossed, jaw clenched, resting his head on his hand, looking like he hated the world.
Miss Park continued, "Min, you can sit there. Right next to… Thyme."
The guy didn't move. Didn't look up. Just sighed—loudly.
Min walked over, slowly. She slid into the seat beside him, her backpack brushing his desk accidentally.
He finally glanced at her, eyes sharp.
Side eye.
Cold.
Icy.
Wow. Friendly.
She muttered, "Hi. I'm Min."
No reply.
She bit the inside of her cheek. Okay then.
Miss Park clapped her hands. "Before we begin, exciting news! We're starting our year-long literature project. You'll be working in pairs, and—" she paused for dramatic effect, "—with the person you're sitting next to."
Min blinked.
Thyme sat up straight for the first time.
"You're joking," he muttered.
"Nope," Miss Park chirped. "Your seats are now permanent for the rest of the year. So get cozy!"
Min could feel the heat of his glare. He leaned back in his chair, muttering under his breath.
"Great. Stuck with Little Miss Transfer Student for a year."
She turned to him with a glare of her own. "You think I'm happy about this?"
Thyme didn't answer. Just popped in his earbuds, turned to the window, and ignored her like she didn't exist.
And just like that, Min knew:
This year was going to be hell.