Cinnamon

Game on

"What's your point?" I pretended not to hear what Vik said, pushed him outside, and locked the door. I almost said yes. Damm it. He’s a good-looking guy with that damn irresistible smile.

Some time passed, and I didn’t see Vik, even though I had been going out more often. I admitted I was still quite flustered after that question, and my visits to the convenience store became more frequent.

The first day at my new school had arrived, and it was much bigger than I had imagined. Thankfully, I arrived early to meet the teacher and ask for the location of my classroom; otherwise, I would’ve gotten lost in this place. I’m terrible with directions.

I walked past the school’s sports complex, which had a swimming pool, a football field, and all kinds of other sports I had never seen at my old school.

“Vik Gorgo, I love you. You’re the reason I live.” Woah. My almost-boyfriend, surrounded by a whole squad of Kessey Cheerleaders. So that smile wasn’t meant only for me—what a harsh reality. I thought to myself and let out a quiet chuckle. Honestly, that face fits American football perfectly.

A girl who looked like an Asian—and, judging by her glasses and books, probably a bit of a nerd—approached me.

Girl: “New student? Where are you from?”

“Yeah. I’m Vietnamese. My name’s Van. And you are?” I tried to look as friendly as possible; making new friends had never been easy for me.

Hoa: “Oh my god, I’m Vietnamese too! I’m Hoa. Nice to meet you.”

“Me too.” I had no idea how to keep the conversation going. Since we were from the same country, should we talk about something related to Vietnam?

Hoa: “He’s hot, right? All the girls here are crazy about him.”

“Huh? Who?” I thought she was talking about some famous Vietnamese guy..

Hoa: “Vik, of course—you’ve been looking at him the whole time.”

Me: “Oh, I was actually more drawn to the cheerleaders. They’re gorgeous, especially that blonde one.”

Hoa with a jealous voice: “You mean Sivana? She’s the cheer captain, and rumor has it she’s known Vik since middle school. People have been saying they’re a couple since last week. But I swear, I hate her—she’s the type of girl who flirts with everyone. Why does she keep touching Vik like that?”

I guess talking behind someone's back is universal. I didn’t think I’d get along with this girl.

Me: “Well, if they’re dating, that’s normal.”

“No, that’s just a rumor. You know, there’s another story about Vik.” Hoa leaned in closer. “Last week, someone took a photo of him talking and smiling with a girl at a convenience store. The photo’s blurry, so you can’t really see her face. But people who saw her say she was Asian.”

Hoa pulled out her phone and opened "Vik Gorgo Is Ours"—apparently, a fan group that knew everything about him. The picture looked very familiar. Of course—it was me. Why did they make me look so short? I’m 1.65 meters!

“This is a violation of privacy, right? Following someone to a supermarket to take pictures—that’s borderline stalker behavior.” I wasn’t dumb enough to admit I was the girl in the photo.

“Nope, that’s normal. Vik’s famous, so he deserves this kind of attention.” Hoa sounded like she could’ve been the one who took it. “But who is she? Does she go to our school? Vik’s never been rumored to date an Asian girl before. Did he change his type? Do you think I have a chance?”

If I said no, I’d probably lose my first friend in the U.S: “Uh… you could try flirting with him.”

“I know I’m prettier than those flirty blondes, but I want Vik to make the first move. He seems like the shy type.” Hoa spoke like those blondes didn’t include her, even though her unevenly dyed blonde hair said otherwise. She did seem a little self-absorbed.

When I glanced at Vik again, our eyes met. He looked genuinely surprised and waved at me—over and over.

Hoa tugged on my sleeve. “Look, he’s waving at me, right? What should I do?”

Me: “Just wave back. I have to find my class, so I’ll go first.”

Hoa probably only heard half of what I said. She shyly waved back and tried to smile sweetly, her half-Asian, half-European face lighting up with effort.

I strode down the long hallway of Building H and put my things away in my own locker. Honestly, I still wasn’t used to boarding school life. I had transferred here in December—right when everyone else was busy preparing for final exams and excitedly waiting for the winter break. My mom kept reminding me to try to keep up with my new school, but how could I? My next class was math, and I truly hated it.

“Hey, bunny.” Vik waved at me. I froze for a moment, startled, then rushed outside to check the classroom sign.

This was H7, right? I hadn’t gone to the wrong class. I hurried over in the direction Vik was waving and clapped my hand over his mouth. Thankfully, no one had come into the classroom yet.

Me: “What the hell are you yelling for? And will you quit calling me ‘bunny’?”

“Why’ve you been avoiding me?” Vik pouted, wearing the most ridiculous sulky expression.

Me: “I’m not avoiding you. I was just… startled. Are we really that close already? Or is this some Chicago-boy flirting?”

Vik: “Oh, so do you know I’m flirting with you? I was worried you were avoiding me because of that photo on Twitter.”

Me: “Why the hell would I avoid you over some fake photo? I was just annoyed they made me look ridiculously short.”

Vik suddenly burst out laughing. I didn’t find it funny at all. At my old school, this height would’ve put me near the top of the class.

“Well, you’re tall—just one head shorter than me. Though… maybe a bit more than one head, huh?” Vik said, using that frame of his that I guessed was nearly brushing the two-meter doorframe.

He rubbed my hair.

He rubbed my hair.

Oh dear, this was the first time anyone had done that since I started high school. I hated it. Vik was ruffling my hair like I was some puppy.

“Hey, how dare yo—” I didn’t even get to finish before Hoa walked in. Damn it. Just my luck to run into one of Vik’s crazy fangirls.