True love : my crazy highschool contract

The shrill sound of her mother’s voice came before the alarm did. “Ha-eun! Wake up already! You’ll be late for your first day!” Yoo Ha-eun groaned, burying her head under the pillow. Maybe… if I close my eyes just a little longer… I’ll wake up back in Seoul… in my old bed… with the smell of dad’s morning coffee… But when she lifted the pillow, the sight of faded wallpaper and a ceiling fan that creaked slightly with each turn reminded her that this wasn’t a dream. This was Daesan. Her mother’s sleepy hometown. And this was her new life. --- Ha-eun dragged herself out of bed with the enthusiasm of a broken vacuum cleaner. Her room was still half-unpacked, boxes piled in the corner like reminders of everything they had to leave behind. The single window let in a streak of golden morning light, but even that felt unfamiliar. As she tugged on her uniform — one that didn’t quite fit and had been passed down from her cousin — a wave of nostalgia hit her like a punch to the chest. > Just a few months ago... everything was fine. Cue the memories. Laughter with her friends in the city. Running through the neon-lit streets of Seoul with Park Soo-jin and Lee Min-ji after cram school. Taking silly selfies, complaining about homework, arguing over snacks. Her dad, still in his work shirt, coming home with that exhausted smile. Her mom humming in the kitchen. A warm, full table. Then the spiral. Her dad came home early. His company had downsized. Bills stacked higher. Arguments grew louder. The fridge emptied. The lights flickered. They began eating once a day. And then, her mother — ever the practical one — made the decision. “We’ll go back to Daesan. Start fresh. I’ll open a small tea and coffee stall near the market. It’ll be hard, but it’ll be something.” No one argued. Because by then, there was nothing left to argue about. --- “Are you still brushing that one eyebrow?” her sister Yoo Hye-jin called from outside the room. Ha-eun rolled her eyes. “You’d think I was getting married, not going to school.” Hye-jin chuckled as they walked together through the narrow streets of Daesan. It was a quiet town, nothing like Seoul’s chaos. People greeted each other by name. A dog barked lazily from a shop’s front step. “You’ll get used to it,” Hye-jin said. “I didn’t ask to.” “You didn’t have to. Your face is saying it for you.” They stopped in front of Haneul High School — clean, traditional, and slightly too perfect. Students in crisp uniforms filed through the gate. Ha-eun took a breath. “Ready?” her sister asked. “No.” “Too bad. Fighting!” Hye-jin waved and walked off. Ha-eun’s feet felt like bricks as she entered the school. Inside the main office, the secretary smiled politely and directed her to the principal’s room. It was unnervingly quiet inside. The principal, a tall man with glasses and a strict jawline, scanned her from head to toe. “Yoo Ha-eun. You’re the transfer student,” he said. “Yes, sir.” “Uniform is wrinkled. Your skirt is too long. We have rules here.” “Sorry, sir.” He sighed. “I’ll have the class president take you to your classroom.” Then he reached for the intercom. “Kang Joon-seo, please come to the office.” A few moments later, the door opened. And Ha-eun forgot how to blink. The boy who stepped in looked like he belonged on a drama poster. Tall, sharp-jawed, with dark hair that looked too perfectly messy to be natural. His expression was blank — no curiosity, no interest. Just… still. Ha-eun stared. > Is this a dream? Wait, no. This is illegal. People shouldn’t look like that. “This is our new student, Yoo Ha-eun,” the principal said. “Show her to your class.” Joon-seo’s eyes flicked to her briefly, then to the principal. His voice was low and unimpressed. “Do I have to?” Ha-eun blinked. Excuse me? “Yes,” the principal replied flatly. “That’s part of your duty, isn’t it?” Without another word, Kang Joon-seo turned and walked out. The principal gave her a pointed look. “Follow him.” Still slightly stunned, Ha-eun bowed quickly and chased after him. --- He didn’t slow down. Not once. She nearly tripped trying to keep up as he led her through the hallway with long, purposeful strides. His hands were in his pockets. His head forward. Not even a backward glance. > What is he? A tour guide for ghosts? Could he walk any faster? When they reached the classroom, he finally stopped. “This is our new transfer student. Yoo Ha-eun,” he said to the room, barely looking up. Thirty pairs of eyes turned to her. She felt every single one. Some curious. Some bored. A few — especially from the girls — judgmental. > Great. First day and I already feel like I crashed a secret club. Ha-eun swallowed and gave a stiff bow. “Hello, I’m Yoo Ha-eun. Please take care of me.” The teacher smiled and gestured her to an empty seat by the window. Joon-seo walked to his seat without another word or glance in her direction. She sat down slowly, her cheeks still warm. > So that’s Kang Joon-seo… The class president… Ice prince… walking heart attack. Her pen rolled off the desk. She bent to pick it up. When she sat back up, her eyes landed on Joon-seo across the room. He was staring out the window like nothing existed inside the classroom — like none of this mattered. > What’s his problem? > No… what’s my problem? I’m staring at him like a character in some romance drama. She turned her head quickly and faced the board. This was her new school. Her new life. Her fresh start. But something told her… This wasn’t going to be easy.