I wore a new hairpin to school. The school's notorious bad boy, Dylan, stood in front of me, rubbing his nose. "That hairpin looks good on you." Trembling, I took it off and clipped it onto his head. "If you like it... it's yours." 1 The hallway went dead silent. Then someone snorted, and the laughter exploded. Dylan ripped the hairpin off his head, frowning. "Who said you could put this on me?" I blinked. This guy was weird. He said it looked good, but when I gave it to him, he got all fierce. Seeing the confusion in my eyes, he looked away, his tone softening a bit. "Lost a game of Truth or Dare." Oh. I understood. I held out my hand. "Then... can I have it back?" Under my hopeful gaze, he brutally rejected me. He shoved the hairpin into his pocket. I swallowed my anger. Fine. Can't afford to offend him, so I'll just avoid him. Goodbye, new hairpin that I owned for exactly three hours and twenty-one minutes. During the break, I went out for fresh air and bumped into my friend, Jess. She looked me up and down, noticing something missing. "Where's the new hairpin you wore today?" I confessed. "I gave it to Dylan." Jess's voice went up two octaves. "You gave it to who???" I repeated myself honestly, adding an explanation. "He said it looked good on me, so I gave it to him." Jess froze. She frowned, looking at me like I was a hopeless case. "Is there a possibility... that he was saying you looked good?" "Does he have a crush on you?" I shook my head. "He's not blind." I sit in the corner of the classroom every day. I'm a mouse who avoids all attention. Why would he notice me? 2 Compared to Dylan, my life was dirt, and his was the sky. My home was a chaotic war zone; his was peaceful and perfect. I wanted to use grades to escape. He was at the bottom of the class but still had a glittering future. Some people spend their whole lives trying to get to Rome; some people are born there. I was the former; he was the latter. Rich, handsome, wild but principled. Countless girls threw themselves at him. Me? I hid behind thick bangs and black-rimmed glasses, drowning in a uniform two sizes too big for my skinny frame. In a crowd, I was invisible. There was no way he liked me. He definitely just liked the hairpin. Thinking about that hairpin, I felt a pang of regret. I just bought it. Five bucks. It hurt a little. But once something is in his hands, it's gone. I sighed and opened my math workbook. Whatever. I'll solve a few problems to calm down. When I looked up again, I saw Dylan leaning against the doorway. He lifted his chin at me. "Hey, Shorty. Come out here." I pointed at myself. "Me?" He nodded. "Yeah, you." Feeling like the mouse I was, I closed my workbook and shuffled out nervously. Under Dylan's oppressive gaze, I mustered up the courage to compliment him. "That hairpin looked pretty good on you too." He looked stunned. He pulled the hairpin out of his pocket. "You... said I looked good wearing this thing??" I was confused. "Yeah?" He seemed to choke on his words, his face turning a weird color. He shoved the hairpin into my hand. "This is for girls. Take it back." I instantly beamed, immersed in the joy of recovering lost property. But when I examined it closely, I frowned. "A rhinestone is missing." The next second, Dylan's face darkened. "How much? I'll pay you." I answered matter-of-factly. "Five dollars." He pulled out his phone. "No cash. Venmo?" I obediently took out my phone. It was so old it took forever to open the app. He waited quietly the whole time. I glanced at him cautiously, but saw no impatience or disdain in his expression. Relieved, I added him as a friend. I didn't see the corner of his mouth turn up as he turned away. And that missing rhinestone? It was sitting safely in his wallet. 3 When I got home that evening, the usual sounds of my mom complaining and my dad arguing back filled the air. Mixed with my little brother's crying. The noise made it impossible to focus. I thought about sleeping, but it was too chaotic. I remembered the five dollars in my Venmo. So I grabbed my backpack and left the house. My parents, deep in their argument, didn't even notice. I walked slowly to the McDonald's nearby, splurged on a Coke, and sat in the corner to do homework. I was so focused that by the time I finished, the ice had melted, diluting the sweetness. I packed up. I couldn't bear to throw away the half-empty cup, so I carried it home. When I pushed open the door, Mom was sitting in the living room, silent. My heart skipped a beat. Her gaze landed on the cup in my hand. "Vain enough to drink McDonald's Coke now?" "The dollar soda at the bodega isn't good enough for you?" "We hesitate to buy a bottle of water when we're out." "Where did you get the money?" I whispered my defense. "I lent a hairpin to a classmate. They broke it and paid me back." "Which classmate?" I stammered, unable to answer. She walked over quickly and slapped me across the face. "Learning to lie now?" I stood in silence until she finished venting and told me to go to my room. Lying in bed, moonlight streaming through the window, I blinked. Tears soaked into the pillowcase. Outside was a vast world; inside was a cramped storage closet. I gritted my teeth. I would leave this place. I would. The next morning, I rarely let my hair down, trying to cover the red mark on my face. But I ran into Dylan wandering around campus. He had sharp eyes. He noticed something was off. Before I could react, he brushed my hair aside. "Who hit you?" I turned my face away, shame and anger rising. "None of your business. Are we close?" He paused, crossing his arms. "Of course it's my business. Classmates should help each other." I froze for a second, suppressing the flutter in my heart. "Thanks, but no thanks." He seemed annoyed, pursing his lips and staring at me for a moment before turning and walking away. I couldn't accept kindness comfortably. Because I knew I couldn't repay it. 4 During break, I went to ask the class valedictorian—a boy—about a math problem. While we were discussing it, Dylan seemed to accidentally knock my notebook off the desk. I glanced at him and bent down to pick it up, but my fingers brushed his. He pulled his hand back instantly, the tips of his ears turning a faint pink. "I was afraid bending over would be trouble for you." Then he walked away. I dusted off the notebook and put it back on the desk. Turning back to the unfinished problem. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dylan's jacket fluttering in the doorway. Swaying gently in the wind, just like him. After school, I was rushing home on my bike when Dylan suddenly appeared in front of me. I slammed the brakes, stopping just an inch from him. Seeing this, he threw his backpack down and sat on the ground. "June, you hit me." I stood there silently, unsure how to respond. He stood up again. "Tell you what. Do me a favor, and I won't pursue it." I knew he was faking it, but there were no cameras on this road. I couldn't prove anything. I accepted it. "What favor?" Dylan looked serious. "Come home with me." I was stunned, hesitating. He flicked my forehead. "What are you thinking? My parents are home." "Oh." He grabbed my handlebars. I frowned. "You're riding my bike. What do I ride?" The next second, my feet left the ground. He lifted me up and placed me on the crossbar. My face instantly heated up. I stammered, trying to protest. "This... is too close..." "If people see, they'll think we have some relationship..." "Tch." Dylan scoffed. His tone was nonchalant. "So what?" He stepped on the pedal, and the bike moved forward steadily. The road was full of students rushing home. I lowered my head, trying to minimize my existence. When we got to Dylan's house, I sighed with relief, thinking no one saw us. Until I opened my phone. Jess sent a message. [Respect (Thumbs up)] Attached was a blatant paparazzi shot. From that angle, it looked like I was leaning into Dylan's embrace. The smile froze on my face.
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