“You’re unusually quiet today,” Jihoon said, casually leaning against the locker next to hers.
Arin closed it with a soft click. “I’m thinking.”
“About the text?” he asked, voice low.
She nodded once. “It’s the third one this week. They’re getting bolder.”
Jihoon frowned. “And weirdly specific.”
Arin stayed silent, her face unreadable.
After a moment, Jihoon sighed. “You still don’t wanna tell your teachers or your family?”
“I did tell my family,” Arin said, surprising him. “Last night.”
Jihoon blinked. “You did?”
She nodded. “Dad was calm. As always. Mom freaked out for five seconds and then started planning how to increase security without being obvious.”
“What about your grandpa?”
Arin’s eyes softened slightly. “He just told me to keep my chin up. And then said, ‘You’re a Lee. Act like one.’”
Jihoon smiled a little. “That’s so him.”
“I’m not scared, Jihoon,” she said softly, almost like a whisper only he was allowed to hear. “Just… annoyed. I hate distractions.”
He glanced at her. Calm, composed, flawless Arin. Even when someone was stalking her, she looked like she could run a board meeting.
“Do you think it’s someone from school?” he asked.
Her eyes narrowed just a bit. “I think it’s someone who knows me more than they should.”
“Do you want me to look into it more seriously?”
Arin turned to him, lips curving slightly. “That’s why I’m telling you.”
Jihoon grinned. “Okay. I’ll start checking security footage from that hallway. And maybe… poke around online.”
“Be subtle.”
“I’m always subtle.”
She snorted. “No, you’re not.”
Just then, a group of girls passed by, giggling and whispering. One of them was holding up a phone with a blurry photo of Arin and Seojun at the board meeting.
Arin didn’t even flinch.
But Jihoon saw it.
“She’s annoying,” he muttered.
“Who?” Arin asked.
Jihoon nodded toward one of the girls.
“Hyeri?” Arin guessed.
Jihoon made a face. “Obviously.”
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