Chapter Text
[Sophomore Year]
Kim Jennie cannot wait to get the fuck out of here.
Four years of hell—and not the good kind.
Ever since her enrollment in this school, no one has bothered to learn her name or care about her existence. And if they do acknowledge her, they either move away from her or torment her. The common insults thrown at her are ‘goth freak,’ ‘the outcast,’ ‘basket case,’ ‘the loner,’ ‘the emo,’ etc. She is not new to the whole bullying scheme. It’s one of the reasons why she hates coming to school often. She would only show up for the occasional class, cooped up in the corner while minding her own business.
Jennie likes counting down the days of the school year. So far, she has two years, six months, one week, and two days before graduation and leaving this stupid town forever. High school is just a short section of her life. It’s nothing but a popularity contest for idiots with low self-esteem. Nobody will remember each other once they throw their graduation caps in the air and hit the road to college. And Jennie hopes she won’t be associated with this academic prison once her time is up.
It’s actually her dream to achieve freedom.
No more dealing with horrendous parents, obnoxious teachers, and pubescent teenagers.
During the passing period, Jennie minds her own business as she journeys to her next class on autopilot mode. The walls upon walls of lockers on both sides never fail to make Jennie feel lonely as she walks from one class to another. Then she remembers why she hates these hallways.
Loud students, slamming lockers, heavy stomping.
It makes her want to rip her hair out.
Alternative rock music blasts in her earbuds, ignoring the loud voices of her obnoxious peers while walking past them. Luckily, these idiots hardly bat an eye in her direction, so she’s able to enjoy the five minutes of peace without getting shoved or insulted.
Until a tall figure stands in her way.
Jennie looks up to see a black-haired, lanky girl who looks like she belongs in a punk-rock band. Her backpack hangs loosely off one shoulder as she holds a piece of paper with the map of the school in her other hand. She must be new around here because who the fuck needs the map halfway through the semester?
Not bothering to ask her to move, Jennie tries to step around her, but the girl matches her step. She hates these little awkward moments. They’re embarrassing and a waste of time. They go back and forth for a few steps, and Jennie is starting to get annoyed and impatient.
However, not as much as this punk.
Scowling, the raven yanks one of the earbuds out of Jennie’s ear and glares at her. “If you wanna fuck me, just say so, princess,” she confronts agitatedly in English.
The commotion causes the students around them to pause in their steps and watch the showdown.
Jennie narrows her feline eyes at the tall fucker, tilting her head to the side. “The fuck did you say to me?”
And the punk still has the audacity to repeat the words in Korean as she steps closer. “I said—”
Without a second thought, Jennie punches the girl right in the stomach.
The force causes the girl to lose her balance as the wind is knocked out of her. She clutches her stomach and drops to the floor on her knees, curling into a fetal position. The students gather around them as they start pulling out their phones to record this fight to post on social media later.
Jennie couldn’t care less.
She gets on top of the punk and pins her to the ground by straddling her hips. Her angry fists do all the work, punching anything she can reach. The poor raven is trying to block her blows by shielding her face with her arms.
A teacher rushes in, pushing through the mob of students, and immediately breaks up the fight. He grabs Jennie by the arm and forcibly pulls her off the raven. He doesn’t care who started it; he sends both of them to the principal’s office. Then, he shouts at everyone else to go back to their classrooms.
Frustrated yet satisfied, Jennie picks up her backpack and makes her to the office, knowing very well that she cannot escape this time.
—
In the office, both teenagers sit in the chairs in front of the oak desk as they wait for the principal to show up. Jennie sits with her arms crossed while intently glaring at the floor, annoyed that she has to be here again.
It’s not her first time in the principal’s office, but it’s not like she’s a frequent detention server either. Jennie had been called down a few times for the stupidest reasons, one being for defending herself from the bullies. Those fake mean girls thought they could get away with insulting her gothic style without worrying about Jennie fighting back. One harsh comment about their uneven eyebrows and fake designer clothes had them crying to the nearest staff member.
Fortunately, boys would rather keep their mouths shut than let the school know they were singlehandedly insulted by the outcast, let alone a female. Seeing their masculinity being threatened always puts a smile on Jennie’s face. One less gender to worry about.
Jennie glances over her shoulder at the window to see the principal chatting with the guidance counselor, paying no mind to the teenagers. He better hurry the fuck up because she does not want to share her space with this delinquent any longer. The idea of tying a plastic bag over her head and suffocating herself sounds tempting right now.
Speaking of, Jennie looks askance at the punk slouched in her seat, long legs spread out before her, while nursing an ice pack against her left cheek. She can’t remember if she hit her face or not during the frenzy of punches. Other than that, Jennie notes the girl has a good sense of fashion. Bold clothing; spiky accessories; edgy makeup; piercings; black nails. A bit similar to Jennie’s, but more expressive and rebellious.
Maybe if she wasn’t such a bitch on the first impression, Jennie would find her attractive.
The principal’s door finally opens.
The older man enters his office and comes around his desk while buttoning up his suit jacket. His perverted gaze scans both girls up and down, his tongue licking his crusty lips before he takes a seat in his leather chair. Jennie feels the vomit crawling up her throat.
“I was informed you two were involved in a physical quarrel,” Principal Yang begins, folding his hands on top of the desk.
As expected, the girls give no response.
He starts talking about the consequences of fighting on school grounds and not accepting violence against others, especially if it’s physical. He went on and on about the importance of respecting people and learning to grow up now that they’re in high school.
Jennie would always feel something stir in her when a sympathetic adult gives her the ‘you’re smarter than this’ speech. It was supposed to motivate her, but all she could think about was being a disappointment.
“Son Jinah, I know you’re the new transfer student and it’s your first week here, but it’s important to know we have strict rules about fighting,” Principal Yang reprimands.
Jennie thought the punk was going to argue back, saying she didn’t start it or hit her back, but she just kept her mouth shut. She noticed the girl bouncing her leg anxiously while picking at a loose thread on her baggy jeans.
Son Jinah, huh? Where the hell did she transfer from?
Now that she thinks about it, Jennie did pick up on the odd accent when Jinah spoke to her. It sounded like an English accent or somewhere in the United Kingdom region.
“Kim Jennie, you should’ve controlled your anger better. Violence is never the answer. It causes more damage than good…” Principal Yang carries on with his spiel, his voice monotone and robotic as if he’s told this speech a thousand times.
The goth twists her lip in a scowl. “She provoked me.”
“I’m not worried about who started it and who didn’t,” he says with a sigh. “I’m not going to contact your parents or guardians about today’s altercation. It’ll only cause more issues not only for you two but for the school as well. I don’t need a lawsuit on my hands.”
Thank God.
Jennie has enough shit to deal with at home. She didn’t want those adult fuckers to get on her back for beating up a student. Hell, her guardians might not be content with the idea of being pressed charges over her violent behavior. In her opinion, it was self-defense.
“Instead, I’m going to let you off the hook with a warning. However, you won’t go unpunished. You two are going to be in detention for the rest of the day.” He turns to type away on his computer.
Fucking phenomenal.
For once, Jennie wishes she was in math class.
After the boring life lesson, Principal Yang gives them a list of things to do throughout their detention. He expects them to write an essay about what they are going to do to avoid committing the same mistake in the future. Once they are done with that, they have to help the janitors clean the whole school until the final bell rings.
There are a couple of knocks on the door before it opens and a faculty member pokes her head inside. She notifies the principal about an issue in the copy room. Principal Yang places two pieces of paper and pencils in front of the girls. “Start writing your essays and do not talk to each other. I expect silence and the first paragraph to be written when I return.” He points a warning finger at them before excusing himself and standing up from his desk.
The door clicks shut and it’s just them two.
Neither one makes a move.
The room suddenly grows cooler in temperature.
Jennie lets her eyes wander for a bit. She has noticed a few changes since the last time she was here. He decided to add a bit of color and posters about motivation and accomplishing your goals. There’s even a poster about feminism.
How ironic.
The sexist bastard assaults underaged girls for a living.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that to you,” Jinah speaks up after an eternity of awkward silence. Her voice is quiet and deep with a hint of sorrow. “I didn’t know you can understand English.”
“I don’t care what you have to say now. Your first impression alone tells me what kind of person you are,” Jennie snipes, subtly shifting her body away from the raven. “And it doesn’t matter what language it was, it’s fucking immature. What made you even wanna say that? Do you not say ‘excuse me’ or ‘sorry for getting in your way’ where you come from?”
Jinah drops her head in pity. “I… I didn’t mean to…” she mumbles, downcast eyes focusing on her legs instead. Her guilty conscience begins to take over her mind, not knowing what else to say. “It was a defensive reflex.”
“Defensive? Confronting people about them wanting to fuck you is self-defense?” Jennie continues to berate the girl.
“No, it’s—”
“Sounded more like a verbal attack, which by the way, you started.”
Jinah can’t argue against that. Jennie was right. She provoked Jennie first. The goth was doing nothing but glaring at her with murder in her eyes while Jinah made the first move by insulting her.
Jinah adjusts her seating position so she can look at Jennie. “I sincerely apologize for acting immaturely.”
“Fuck off,” Jennie disregards her apology. “And don’t ever call me ‘princess’ again. I fucking mean it.” She is considering knocking her out if she continues to open her mouth and spew bullshit. Her whole day is ruined because of the new kid. She begins to pick at her fingernail, trying to ignore the raven’s intense stare.
Can she be any more obvious?
Agitated, Jennie opens her mouth to threaten the punk to look away before she gives her a black eye, but Jinah beats her to it.
“Your makeup is cool,” Jinah compliments after staring at her for what seems like forever.
It felt like a bucket of ice-cold water was thrown over Jennie’s head.
Someone finally noticed it, and this someone didn’t tease her about it. Her efforts in perfecting liquid eyeliner and smokey eyeshadow were acknowledged. This someone liked it. And the fact that this someone was the person she just beat to the pulp.
Jennie takes a really good look at Jinah who sports a soft yet blank expression on her face. This time she takes in the fox-like features, long black hair, and silver jewelry adorning different parts of her face. Your fellow conservative adult would ask why she ruined her pretty face with all that jewelry. But what really catches her interest is the pair of dark gray eyes staring back at her. She didn’t realize how pretty they look up close before she started throwing punches at her. Unfortunately, her face took a couple of blows from her small yet powerful fists.
Her cheeks flush a light pink color at the small compliment. Before Jennie can think about thanking her, Principal Yang walks back in and scolds them for already breaking one of the rules. “Don’t make me regret not suspending you or calling your parents. Get to writing, now.”
Jennie begrudgingly picks up the pencil and starts writing away. Jinah remains still in her seat.
Even so, a million compliments won’t make Jennie lower her guard.
This punk is now on her blacklist.
[Junior Year]
Jennie isn’t the type to eat the school’s cafeteria food. As a matter of fact, she hardly eats lunch. There’s never anything good on the menu here, and the refrigerator back home tends to be empty, so why bother?
There used to be days when she would faint from starvation. She would wake up in the nurse’s office and her foster mother would be forced to leave work and come pick her up. Instead of worrying about her health and asking if she wants to eat, she would rant the whole car ride home. Bitch about how Jennie looks like an anorexic skeleton.
Her one and only friend, Jisoo, always brings her lunch from her own house. She knows how difficult Jennie’s foster parents are, and how much they neglect her to the point they don’t care if she is alive or not. When Jisoo’s mother learned about Jennie’s hard life, she always made sure to pack a second lunchbox for Jennie. The goth rejected the lunchbox the first few times because she didn’t want to be pitied, but Jisoo insisted.
Before the lunch bell rang, Jisoo had texted Jennie as a favor to get some fruit in the canteen since her classroom is closer. Jennie texted back saying no problem. She can sneak in, grab the fruits, and get the hell out before being noticed. She wears black clothing all the time, so it’ll be easy to blend in with the shadows.
Jennie gets in the lunch line, keeping her head down the whole time. Behind her, she hears two obnoxious voices gossiping about—you guessed it—the goth herself.
“You think she’s fucked anyone yet?” one of them asks in mockery.
“I haven’t met a single guy who wanted to hook up with her.”
“Maybe they have, but won’t admit it out loud.”
“I heard Mino say she’s got an unforgettable mouth.”
“Ew, that junkie? He let her suck him?”
She snorts. “Guess so. I wouldn’t be surprised. Guys wouldn’t pass off a quick blowjob.”
Jennie is relieved to see the lunch ladies. She practically throws a couple of bucks at the cashier and takes some sliced apples in the plastic containers.
“Hey, goth freak!”
Fucking hell.
Jennie really thought was able to sneak out of the cafeteria without anyone noticing her. Guess not. Several people turn their heads and divert their attention at the sudden confrontation. Jennie stops in her tracks and turns around to face the senior cheerleaders also known as the snobbiest bitches in this school. She wonders what Arin and Lena are planning to do to humiliate her.
“The fuck do you want?”
“You fucked Song Mino?”
“What does it matter to you?” Jennie retorts.
“You obviously can’t go for a jock, so you go for the other outcasts, like the junkies,” Arin says.
“Jealous I get more action than you?” Jennie taunts, satisfied to see her eye twitch.
“Please, only a 40-year-old virgin would be jealous,” Arin scoffs.
“Like Mr. Cho,” Lena chimes in.
“Ew, exactly!” Arin barks out an unpleasant laugh. “Have you fucked Mr. Cho yet? Did he pop your cherry?”
Jennie holds back a laugh at the obviously untrue statement, finding it ridiculous that that’s the best insult they can come up with. “Are you threatened he’d rather fuck me than you?” Jennie questions, flicking her eyebrow.
“I doubt anyone would wanna fuck your freaky cunt,” Arin says.
“Go after the British kid,” Lena adds.
“Oh, yeah. You two are like a match made in hell. Both freaky and weird.”
“Hey, Jinah isn’t that weird like this bitch. At least she gets some kinda action, unlike this loser,” Lena slightly defends. It’s pretty obvious she has a secret crush on the punk.
“Jinah fucks everyone. She flaunts herself like a slut,” Arin chuckles dryly as she flaunts her hand out to check her acrylic nails.
Jennie’s eye twitches in anger.
“Are you done? I have other better things to do than talk with bitches who can’t deepthroat without gagging.”
Arin scoffs at her. “Is that what you’re gonna do, freak? Gonna go find some dick to gag on?”
Rolling her eyes, Jennie whirls around to leave, but she accidentally bumps into a tall body. Suddenly, she feels the front of her dress being drenched in some kind of sticky liquid. The room falls silent for a moment as some students ‘oooh’ at the sudden clash. Some even take out their phones to take pictures and record their humiliation.
Jennie feels her wet dress sticking to her skin as the smell of orange juice invades her nostrils. She looks up to see who is responsible for this and realizes she bumped into the punk, holding a broken plastic cup.
Jinah’s outfit choice is definitely one for the books. Her crop top shows off her toned abdomen with a naval piercing, and her denim shorts hang low around her waist, barely holding on with a studded belt. She is showing far more skin than what the school likes. Not that anyone is complaining.
Girls are seething.
Boys are practically drooling.
Jennie sees Jinah’s stomach and the front of her shorts drenched in the sticky juice. A small orange puddle had gathered between them, along with the sliced pieces of apples Jennie had dropped.
There goes her lunch.
“Oooh, speak of the devil,” Lena singsongs, playfully smacking her friend’s arm.
Arin smirks at the situation playing out before her eyes. “How cute. It’s your next fuck toy, Kim. You should thank me.”
No, she shouldn’t.
She’s embarrassed to the max.
Why does Jinah have the worst timing?
“Move, idiot,” Jennie growls, her shoulder roughly bumping against Jinah to get past her. She ignores the lingering gaze on the back of her head as she storms out of the canteen.
It doesn’t take Jinah that long to assess the situation, judging by the cheerleaders laughing their asses off while pointing at the goth. Clenching her jaw, Jinah starts to head in the same direction as Jennie until one of the cunts speaks up.
“Chasing after the basket case, Son?” Arin taunts.
Jinah pauses and stares back at the gossip girl, her face blank as the two bitches continue to cackle. “You speak so confidently for someone who’s infected with chlamydia,” she confronts. “That’s why no one wants to fuck you.”
Murmurs begin to pile among the students at the bombshell.
The sly smirk is wiped off her face. “Wha—hey! You know that’s not true!” Arin stomps her foot down and fumes angrily like a brat.
“Yeah, sure. Begging me to fuck you behind the bleachers this morning was totally not true,” Jinah retaliates sarcastically. “Next time, use concealer to cover the herpes above your mouth. Your shitty lipliner makes you look like a clown.”
Roars of raucous laughter break out in the canteen as Arin covers her mouth out of embarrassment and shame. A few comments are thrown at the girl for being a disgusting skank. Jinah lets them have their entertainment as she turns and walks away like nothing happened.
—
After Jennie slams the restroom door closed, she hurls her backpack onto the tiled floor and hastily makes her way over to one of the sinks. She stops in front of the mirror and stares at her reflection. This has happened to her plenty of times, but this time for some reason felt more humiliating than ever.
Her phone buzzes, and she immediately answers the call once she reads the caller ID.
“Jen, where are you? I can’t find you in our usual spot,” Jisoo sounds breathless like she has been running all over the place.
“Long story, I’ll explain it later. Come to the girls’ locker room. I need to borrow your clothes from your locker,” Jennie replies.
“Okay, I’ll be there quick!”
The goth is so grateful for having a friend like Jisoo. Truly, an angel sent down from heaven to protect her.
Jennie turns on the facet and grabs endless paper towels to start washing out some of the sticky liquid now drying on the fabric. Curses fly around in her head, angry that the stupid drink in the punk’s hand ruined her favorite dress. It doesn’t matter if it was an accident or not, she will make that bitch pay.
Tears of frustration begin to well up in her eyes.
God, she hates how every time she’s ticked off, her eyes water up as her vision blurs.
Jennie stiffens at the sound of the door opening and footsteps heading towards her until she looks up and meets her walking nightmare in the mirror. She quickly blinks back the tears and drops her head.
“What the fuck do you want, Son?” Jennie demands through her clenched teeth as she continues to furiously wipe down the spilled orange juice on the front of her dress. “I didn’t ask you to follow me.”
Jinah disregards her harsh tone, dropping her backpack on the ground. “Do you need spare clothes?”
“Do you coincidentally have clothes just like your fucking appearance, or are you trying to be a fucking savior?”
“I always carry spare clothes,” Jinah replies, shrugging her shoulder. “Sometimes I change my mind when I look at my outfit after I leave my house, so I have backups.”
Jennie can’t say she isn’t the same. Her mind tends to view her outfits differently when she is in a new environment.
“Keep your shit to yourself. I don’t need your help.” Jennie scrubs at her dress harder. A strand of hair falls over her eyes and she sees a hand reaching out to tuck it away. “Touch me, and I’ll report you for sexual harassment,” she warns venomously, jerking away from the punk.
Jinah retracts her hand in surrender. “I don’t think you’re weird,” she mumbles, her voice low and quiet.
“Did I ask?” Jennie snaps. “I don’t need you to pity me.”
“No, but I feel like you needed some reassurance even if you don’t wanna admit it out loud,” Jinah says, never tearing her eyes from the goth. Underneath that cold and dark facade is a soft, vulnerable girl. “I’m sorry for ruining your dress.”
It’s really not her fault.
Accidents happen.
Jennie feels guilt creeping in at the sorrow in Jinah’s tone.
“Go kill yourself,” Jennie growls, not knowing what else to say to her. It’s her instinct to reply with harsh words since she’s so used to people trampling over her. She isn’t used to sudden respect and kindness. She can’t help but feel that Jinah is only being nice to her as a bet.
“I know you’re just saying bullshit ‘cause you don’t wanna open up to me. I don’t know why, but it’s funny actually.” Jinah chuckles, crossing her arms under her chest, as she wanders around the restroom. “I’ve been nothing but kind to you—way kinder than those retards out there.”
“I never asked you to be kind to me.”
“I know.”
Jinah’s steps come to a stop as she stands right behind Jennie. Abruptly, both hands grip the edges of the porcelain sink and cage the goth in between her arms. Jennie quietly gasps and tenses once she feels the extra heat against her back. The scent of jasmine perfume mixed with orange juice circles around them. In the mirror’s reflection, she can tell Jinah is having a blast ogling her like she’s a piece of meat.
Jinah’s vixen eyes shamelessly trail all over Jennie, memorizing the minuscule details of her body that can only be seen up close.
“I already told you if you touch me, I’ll report y—”
“I’m not touching you,” Jinah utters, cocking her pierced eyebrow at the goth. There is literally a one-inch distance between their bodies, but her presence is so strong that Jennie can feel her. Jennie should elbow her in the ribs or headbutt her face to push her away, but oddly, she doesn’t.
Gray eyes snap up and meet the feline death glare.
Jinah increases the proximity, her chest pressing into Jennie’s back, and leans over her ear. “One day, you’ll regret being rude to me.”
Jennie feels her heart ramming against her ribcage in a bruising force, hating the way her breathing starts to grow heavier. She isn’t sure if it’s out of frustration, anxiety, or arousal.
The blush on her cheeks intensifies, and she is sure that Jinah can see them. She lowers her gaze from the mirror to stare at the raven’s hands gripping the sink. Her knuckles are bone white at how tight her grip is and her blue veins are protruding through her skin, almost like she is about to break the material under her raw strength. Is that how her hands look like when they’re wrapped around something and squeeze the fuck out of them?
Jennie’s stupid stomach does a stupid flip.
“Don’t take advantage of my kindness, princess,” Jinah mutters lowly, her warm breath sending a jolt to Jennie’s core. She swears she can feel the snake bites graze against the skin of her ear.
This motherfucker…
Jennie shouldn’t have threatened Jinah to not call her that dreadful term. She just knows the punk is going to be using it from now on to mock her and get on her nerves. Hell, she prefers to be called an emo freak or basket case over a ‘princess’ any time of the day.
Her tough facade is about to break apart until she feels something.
When Jinah shifts a little, something rigid brushes against Jennie’s lower back.
Alarm bells ring off in her head.
What the fuck?
Does she wear a strap-on to school?
No way in hell is she going to let this bastard take advantage of her.
Breaking out of her trance, Jennie forcibly turns around and shoves the taller girl away. She won’t let her steel walls crumble down so easily, so she stands her ground, not caring if there is a four-inch difference in their heights. She narrows her feline eyes at Jinah and tries her best to not let her curiosity take over and look down.
“I never regret,” Jennie proclaims in a stern tone, confidently holding her stare.
Jinah tilts her head like a puppy. Her eyes briefly glance at her plump lips before looking back into her brown eyes. All Jinah does is smirk at her as if to say, ‘we’ll see about that.’
Jinah steps back to let Jennie know that she won this round and proceeds to grab her backpack from the ground before turning away.
Right when the door opens, Jisoo walks in.
Jinah pays no mind to her as she exits the restroom.
Jisoo bewilderedly looks at the punk before looking back at Jennie, silently demanding an explanation.
“Like I said, long story,” Jennie restates.
[Senior Year]
Hidden behind the two-story building of Seoul High School, Jennie sits alone in the shadows, away from the judgmental eyes of other students. All she has is her math book to accompany her as she botches her homework before lunch is over.
Jennie doesn’t have a single friend to hang out with anymore. Jisoo graduated last year and moved away for college, leaving her all alone at this hellish school. She doesn’t make an effort to be friends with people who hate her. The most she’ll get is a grimace of disgust before a simple ‘hello’.
While she is associated with those bottom-of-the-barrel outcasts, she isn’t friends with them, per se. The closest they’ll ever be to each other are acquaintances. Even then, they are still loners without a doubt. It’s just that the goth girl likes her privacy too much to share it with others. So, she sits alone at her favorite spot behind the building or in the library far away from these snobbish idiots.
It is her senior year.
The final year.
She can do this.
Don’t give up so soon.
A loud, boyish laughter disrupts her peace.
Jennie peers up from her notebook and looks straight ahead at the pair of friends sitting at the lone bench under the shadow of a tree. Right there next to the muscular boy is the source of her problems.
While her friend is laughing boisterously, Jinah remains stoic, bored out of her mind. Any time Jennie looks at her face, she always sports the same expression, like she wants a train to crush her to death. It’s strange to think that something amusing came out of this walking corpse’s mouth; the muscular boy won’t shut the hell up.
Over the past two years, Jennie has found so many solid reasons why she hates this punk. The damn bitch can’t go a day without fucking anyone or anything that breathes. And worst of all, she can never leave Jennie alone.
Jennie watches the raven subtly shake the curtain bangs away from her face. If we look past the fuckgirl attitude, Jennie cannot sit there and lie that this girl isn’t attractive. The extra factor that Jennie finds appealing about her appearance is the punk-rock fashion style that differentiates her from the crowd. No one else can pull it off as perfectly as this girl. While they have similar tastes in style, they are the opposite of each other, reputation-wise.
Their worlds cannot collide.
As if having a sixth sense, the pair of fox eyes snap up and look in Jennie’s direction, spotting the occult girl sitting in the shadows.
Jennie flinches in surprise when the raven catches her staring at her. Flabbergasted, she doesn’t know if she should look away or hold eye contact. She can see her friend talking to her, but Jinah ignores him. All of her attention is lasered on Jennie.
Jennie knows two major things about Son Jinah.
One is that she is trouble.
The second is that she has to stay far away from her.
Whether it is sex or trouble, Jennie does not want to be a part of it.
Everyone knows about Jinah’s reputation. She is known for supposedly having a high body count. Usually, when her name is mentioned, it’s never anything good—unless you’re getting fucked by her.
The next thing Jennie hears is the bell ringing to signal the end of lunch. Two more class periods before she is free for the day.
The black-haired girl is the first to break their eye contact as she stands up from the bench. She swings her backpack over her shoulder before following the taller boy to their next class. She doesn’t batter an eyelash at the students around her as she passes by.
It’s always like this with Jinah. She likes being in her own world and not let anyone get anywhere near her breathing space. Whenever she walks down the hallways, every pair of eyes admires her nonchalant attitude. Because of the warm weather today, the raven opted to wear looser yet revealing clothes.
Jennie, though, takes the opportunity to check out Jinah’s ass in those well-fitted denim shorts.
Okay, she’s a little jealous and shameless sometimes. There’s just something about the punk that makes her want to stare for longer.
Until a cheerleader prances over to Jinah. She leans in to whisper something in her ear, and Jinah gives a single nod as an answer. Seeing the cheerleader’s face light up with delight and lust makes Jennie sick to her stomach. It makes her insides churn at how Jinah is willing to hook up with anyone and how her stupid, little victims will drop to their knees before her.
The cheerleader stretches her neck to steal a kiss from Jinah, but the raven turns her head on time as her lips land on her cheek instead. Interesting how Jinah is willing to fuck anybody but not allow anyone to kiss her.
Not that Jennie cares.
Her pierced lips are probably infested with herpes.
Jennie should have gone back to minding her own business because the second she locks gazes with the raven again, her insides boil. The motherfucker stares at her as a tiny smile perks one corner of her mouth. Jennie can just carve that smug off of Jinah’s face with a razor blade.
The smile immediately disappears when the cheerleader tugs on Jinah’s wrist and leads her into the deep sea of students.
Without thinking of anything else, Jennie slams her textbook shut and shoves her belongings in her backpack before following the punk and the cheerleader. She spots the pair heading into one of the abandoned classrooms in the hidden part of the building. There are usually warning signs to prohibit students from trespassing on private property. The hallway is empty, distant from the classrooms and library where most students are.
Why is she doing this?
Jennie should be heading to her sixth period instead of stalking these idiots like a creep.
Despite wearing heavy black boots, Jennie keeps her steps as light as a cat as she slinks inside. There, she hears the echoes of their voices.
“Are the rumors true?”
“What rumors?”
She knows the second question is asked by Jinah because she recognizes her monotonous voice from anywhere. Jinah had developed a husk from the cigarettes she had been powering through for quite some time now.
Not that Jennie has been keeping track of what Jinah’s voice sounds like. She has a slight accent and pronounces some words differently since Korean is her second language.
“That you’re packing more than most guys at school.”
What the hell does she mean by that?
Jennie hears the gray-eyed girl hum.
“You believe those rumors?”
“It’s hard not to.”
Jinah scoffs. “You’re just like everyone else.”
“Well? Is it true or not?”
“See for yourself.”
There’s the sound of a belt unbuckling and a sharp gasp.
Jennie peers from the corner where she hides and through the narrow gap of the open door, she sees an eye-catching yet nauseating sight.
The cheerleader is on her knees in front of Jinah with her jeans low around her hips and a jutting appendage—very real and fleshy. She stares wide-eyed, seeing the vein on Jinah’s cock, so thick and prominent, curling around the base.
So it wasn’t a strap-on!
There was no mistake when she first felt it.
That memory from junior year flashes through her head.
The motherfucker was turned on by her.
UGH!
Jennie is almost overwhelmed by seeing such a private, erotic part of Jinah. She looks at the tall girl, poised with her arms crossed while leaning against the wide desk. So unbothered yet relaxed. The raven is oblivious to the extra pair of eyes watching them.
Before the cheerleader can start her pathetic blowjob, Jennie backs away and leaves the forbidden part of the building; she is not a voyeur in that sense. As she walks in the direction of the library, she still can’t believe she discovered the most private part of the raven.
So it’s true…
Jinah is a special kind of girl.
Jennie did hear those types of rumors fly around their school over the past two years. However, it was hard to believe them because it was impossible picturing Jinah with a male organ.
Jinah always had that feminine aspect of herself.
While she did wear skimpy clothing, the tent of a bulge never appeared.
Hell, Jinah had gotten dress-coded for wearing a tube top that only covered her breasts and a denim miniskirt that was far shorter than the school’s appropriate length. She didn’t care if some people called her a slut; she was more satisfied seeing guys and girls—and a handful of perverted teachers—thirsting over her body. Even the goth was a bit jealous of how confident the raven was in herself.
Though, what’s surprising to Jennie is that this new fact doesn’t gross her out.
Instead, it fuels her curiosity toward Jinah.
Gray eyes, black hair, punk-rock clothes, piercings, and now a fucking dick.
She is supposed to hate her, not be intrigued with her.