The shove from Seraphina had slammed me against the wall, and a dull ache from my old wound started to spread across my back. I winced.
Suddenly, a bottle of painkillers appeared in front of me.
It was Adrian. He gestured toward my back. “Looks like you reopened your wound. Need to go to the nurse’s office?”
Even a complete stranger could see something was wrong. Peter hadn’t noticed a thing.
In the span of a few minutes, Peter’s desk had been colonized with pink stickers and a matching thermos that weren’t his. A pink hair tie was looped around his pale wrist, a stark contrast to his dark, gloomy aura. Seraphina was wearing his school blazer over her shoulders
And in her hands was the bento box I had made for Peter.
She took one bite, gagged, and threw the entire container into the trash.
“My dog wouldn’t eat this garbage,” she declared. “No wonder you’re so skinny. From now on, you’re eating with me!”
Peter stared at the discarded bento box in the trash can.
He said nothing.
I left the classroom and went to the nurse’s office to get re–bandaged. By the time I returned, school was over, and the only person left was
Adrian.
My desk had been moved next to his.
“My old deskmate was Seraphina,” he explained simply. “Since she moved, I brought your desk over.”
Since my mission was over, it didn’t matter where I sat.
“It’s getting dark,” Adrian said. “Want me to walk you home?”
I didn’t want to get involved with the original male lead. I was about to refuse when a cold voice cut in from the doorway.
“That won’t be necessary,” Peter said. “I’ll take her home.”
4
Peter lived in a rundown neighborhood on the other side of town. To complete my mission, I had moved in next door, forcing myself into his life by following him to and from school, chattering relentlessly. When he got too annoyed, he’d pointedly put in his earbuds.
I was undeterred.
I told him about the white cat in the schoolyard who’d had six kittens. About how the sweet and sour pork in the cafeteria was too salty. About the university I wanted to get into, the teddy bear I wanted for my birthday, and even how many times I’d gone to the bathroom that day.
At that, he would always turn and glare at me, his usually pale face flushed with pink. “Why are you telling me this?”
“I thought you were wearing earbuds,” I’d say innocently. “How can you still hear me?”
He would just stomp ahead, trying to put distance between us.
“Am I really that annoying?” I’d call after him. Before he could answer, I’d sigh and say to myself, “You know, people only talk a lot when they’re happy. And I like you, I really, really like you. Being near you makes me happy. That’s why I want to talk. I hope one day you’ll want to talk to me,
too.”
He would always turn his head away, as if burned by my earnest gaze, but he would take out his earbuds. He still wouldn’t wait for me, and he still wouldn’t speak,
Back then, the idea of him waiting for me after school, of him being the one chattering away, seemed like an impossible dream.
I never thought it would come true today.
09:37
Chapter 1
02 17 0
The sound of summer cicadas filled the air, but it couldn’t drown out Peter’s constant stream of words.
“I didn’t expect Seraphina to move her desk next to mine. It’s probably just another one of her whims. She’ll get bored in a few days and move back, and then you and I can be deskmates.”
“She’s not as fragile as she looks. Her hands were all red from moving the desk, but she just insisted she was fine.”
“She said some weird things today. She said she had a dream that I died saving her. I think it’s hilarious. Does she really think I’m that stupid?
It was strange. This was the most Peter had ever spoken to me, and it was all because of another girl. He talked and talked, and every single word was about Seraphina.
As we neared the entrance to my alley, he suddenly stopped. “Why are you so quiet today?”
What can I say? What am I supposed to say? I wanted to ask.
Instead, the words that came out were: “Are you happy right now?”
Peter froze.
Before he could answer, the sound of a car door opening came from the end of the street. Seraphina bounced out and linked her arm through
his.
“I’ll be walking him home from now on,” she announced brightly. “We won’t need to trouble an outsider like you anymore!”
But Peter cut her off. “She’s not an outsider.”
We were all stunned. Peter himself seemed shocked by his own words. He pressed his lips together as if in regret.
“You should go home now,” he said to me.
The hot summer wind felt suffocating.
From behind me, I heard his nervous voice. “This neighborhood isn’t safe at night. You should go.”
He was carefully escorting Seraphina back to her car, leaving me alone in the dark.
Seraphina was right. He was devoted to his female lead. The system was wrong to send me. In this story, in this world, I was, and always wou- Id be, an outsider.
Chapter 2
