The bell rang, saving me from both the Silla dynasty and Min-ah's interrogation.
"So?" she demanded instantly, grabbing her bag. "Office gossip? What did Ms. Choi want? Tell me everything!"
"It was nothing!" I lied, shoving my notebook into my backpack faster than humanly possible. "Just... 'Representative' stuff. A new student."
"A new student? Who? Details!"
"Gotta go!" I practically sprinted out of the classroom, leaving Min-ah calling after me.
I checked the schedule Jun-seo gave me. Next up: English. Okay, something I might actually understand. Room 3-A. Third floor. I joined the torrent of blue blazers heading for the stairs. It felt like being swept away in a current.
English class was... fine. The teacher was a cheerful American woman who seemed thrilled, maybe because it was only the beginning of semester. I mostly just zoned out, my brain still trying to process the concept of Leo being the principal's grandson.
Then came Korean Language.
I was trying, okay?
But the teacher spoke incredibly fast, using complex grammar I'd only seen in historical dramas. Explaining grammar in Korean I could barely understand in Ukrainian… was exhausting.
My four years of internet-Korean felt like kindergarten scribbles.
At one point, trying to answer a question about verb conjugation, I accidentally used a phrase that, judging by the snickers around me and the teacher's raised eyebrow, probably meant something deeply inappropriate involving grandmothers.
I decided silence was the better part of valor after that.
"Is it just me," I muttered to Min-ah as we were packing up after Korean, "or is this schedule totally bizarre? We have History twice a day sometimes, but where's, like, Physics? Biology? Civic Education? Do artists not need to know how gravity works?"
Min-ah just shrugged, reapplying her lip gloss with intense focus.
"Kirin is a specialized high school. Did you apply here by randomly clicking the exchange programs?"
The bell rang for lunch. My stomach clenched. The Cafeteria. Scene of Crime #1. "Okay, Operation: Survive Lunch is a go," Min-ah announced, grabbing my arm again. "Stick with me, Mountain. I'm your gossip-shield."
"I don't need a shield, I just need to not spill food on royalty," I grumbled, letting her drag me towards the stairs leading down to the cafeteria .
"Details, details," she waved dismissively. "The key is to sit at my table today. Central location, maximum visibility, but neutral territory. And," she added, lowering her voice, "best view of everyone else's drama."
We entered the huge, echoing atrium . It was just as packed and intimidating as yesterday. My eyes immediately scanned for danger zones. There. Chae-rin, holding court at a table near the windows with her entourage, looking flawless and lethal. Avoid.
There. Myung-Dae and rebels from other classes, back in their corner, looking just as rebellious and unbothered as ever . Avoid.
There. Jun-seo and Ha-neul, already at a 'Perfects' table near the front, deep in conversation . Safe... maybe?
"This way!" Min-ah chirped, pulling me toward her vibrant, chattering table right in the middle of everything. It felt like walking onto a stage. Again. I grabbed a tray, my hands sweating. Today: Japchae and rice. No soup. Nothing spillable. Nothing red.
"Be cool, Mountain," Min-ah whispered as we sat down among her friends, who all gave me curious, appraising looks. "Just nod, smile."
Easy for her to say. I took a deep breath and tried to look like I belonged.