7 February, 2015
In my glorious, slightly oversized PE uniform, I was stretching like I was training for the Olympics— when in reality, we were just about to play rugby.
Rugby.
The one game where my survival rate drops to 50%.
I did some jumping stretches to feel professional, even though all it did was make my ponytail slap me in the face like karma.
Mid-stretch, I casually glanced to my side.
And there he was.
My arch-nemesis.
My sworn academic rival.
Park Hanuel.
Standing on the opposite court.
Staring.
With that smug, 'I know you can't outscore me today' look plastered on his stupidly handsome face.
I froze like someone just hit me with a stun gun.
Why was he staring at me?!
I mean—sure, I sometimes stared at him for, uh, strategic academic observation reasons…
But him staring at me?
Who gave him the rights?!
I quickly turned away.
Pink cheeks?