choi beomgyu, the one who held my young heart for two years...
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How strange it is that I'm writing to you. I haven't communicated with you since we finished high school. Neither have I written a letter before. But it must be done. I made a decision, and that decision is this letter, resting in your hands as you read it.

The reason I'm writing this is to face my past, and come to terms with what happened. I've only told my counselor what happened while we attended school together, and never about you. Maybe now you'll know why I never fixed our friendship.

I wonder what your reaction is as you read this. I was just your classmate, your friend, the year we turned twelve, and then your friend who saw you occasionally for the years we were thirteen and fourteen, separated by the barriers of different friend circles and different classes.

Eventually, we drifted apart—not that we were that close to begin with—and not even our mutual love for the Harry Potter books could keep us together. The books we used to talk about all the time, taking turns reading the books, not reading the next volume until we had both finished it.

Remember how we used to talk about it all the time? Speculating what the next book would be about, just judging by the titles? I remember us finally getting through the second book and guessing what 'The Prisoner of Azkaban' meant, anxiously waiting for the next time we could stop by the library and borrow it for a week.

I always took a shorter time to read, didn't I? We usually went to the library on Fridays, and I'd take it home with me to read during the weekend. Then on Mondays, I would give it to you and you always finished the last few pages during school, usually on Wednesdays and Thursdays.

Thursday break-times were our time to talk about the book. We'd discuss how we felt about it, what we expected to happen, and whether we were right or wrong. We would discuss what we thought Voldemort's next move, which we both found hard to predict.

It was like our own little book-club in place of the local one we were too young to join.

I remember we once talked about Harry's crush on Cho Chang; not the words that we said, really, just that we did talk about it. I remember that very vividly; in particular, how I was sad that I never had a chance and angry at myself for ever falling for you.

I'm sure you didn't expect me to just admit it so openly like this, did you?

Choi Beomgyu, did you know that you yourself are a girl's weakness in romance personified? Maybe someone's told you this already, or you don't know it. But you are.

Gifted with good looks, smart, and a heart of gold. That's enough for a lot of girls, including myself. Unlike how the media portrays girls, most of us don't really care if you're rich or popular or whatever. Most of us are just looking for a man who will accept us, listen to us, and be a good partner. In most cases, we want nothing more and nothing less.

The first time you spoke to me, I was struck by how cute you were. No, correction: I was taken aback by how you smiled and asked me how I was. In my mind, there was no reason for you to, not when it was just my first day at our school.

I told you I transferred to the one we attended back then because my family and I moved, but I never told you why I moved, did I? Truth is, we moved because we were struggling financially, and our new place was smaller but more affordable. Maybe some part of me was afraid you would look down on me because of it, but of course you wouldn't. You're too kind for that.

That day, I was quiet at first, sitting right next to your crush, Chaeyeon. I was the only person who showed up a week late. I didn't know anybody in that school, and unlike any new kids, I hadn't gotten the privilege of befriending anyone the first few days. I was terrified. I had left behind my friends because I had no choice and when I walked in through the door, I was even more terrified by the sea of unfamiliar faces.

I was just about ready to turn and run when the teacher noticed me standing there awkwardly, tugging unconsciously at the waistband of my skirt, and when she told me to come inside, the class rippled with murmurs of 'that must be Nari,' 'is that the kid that didn't come last week? Nari?' and such.

The teacher led me to sit next to Chaeyeon, the girl I would learn you liked in a few months. She smiled at me briefly, but didn't say anything, for the teacher was carrying out the lesson. Across the class was where you sat, and you only glanced at me briefly before going back to listening to the lesson.

For the most part, I was quiet, doing my work, but when the science class rolled around, I was suddenly one of the loudest. Well, my voice wasn't very carrying, but I was among the two or three who were raising their hands to answer questions and asking them. I saw you look at me with a surprised look, but like the rest of the class, you settled back in your seat to listen and observe.

During the break period, you came to say hi to Chaeyeon, and spoke with her for a few minutes while I sat there awkwardly with no one to talk to. You noticed that I was quiet and sat down next to me. "Hi," you said with a bright smile. "I'm Choi Beomgyu. What about you? How's your first day so far?"

"Kim Nari," I said, taken aback. "It's – it's okay, I guess. Kind of lonely."

By then, my brain was already focusing on how you were really cute, but that wasn't what set my heart towards you. I'd noticed my fair share of cute guys since the circle of hell known as puberty set in. But you were a different kind of cute, so open and warm and welcoming and inviting.

Your personality was drawing me in from the start. "The kind of lonely you feel even when you're in a huge crowd?" you asked me, and I nodded. From there we went into a long-winded conversation. We jumped from one topic to another so quickly that I can't even remember what we said after that, only that we discovered our mutual love for Harry Potter.

We both had only read the first book and engaged in the first of our discussions. We promised each other that we would go to the library at the end of the week to borrow the second book and you said I could read it during the weekend once you found I finished the first book two days.

And so our little meetups and discussions became a daily thing. Less than a month in and I already knew I liked you as a bit more than a friend. In two months I already really liked you and was trying my best to deny it; kind of useless since my heart would do the jumps that I have come to be familiar with around you. Since I would not look at you long enough to maintain a prolonged period of eye contact. Since I would get too defensive whenever someone asked us if we were dating.

I liked you because you were always kind to me. Even by then, there was already a sort of social barrier between our classmates; girls stuck to themselves, the boys did the same, and all would be fine and dandy. Except you broke that barrier – no, you and I. We honestly didn't care and kept hanging out together.

I also liked you because you defended me from the mean remarks and comments of your friends. You defended me when they tried to take things from me; defended me when they poked fun at me for being liked by teachers. Apparently, they didn't like me enough to do much about the fact the bullying I was going through was getting worse.

Do you remember it got to a point when people were actually flicking paint at me on purpose during art classes? For the longest time, I was going home every Monday and getting scolded by my mother for getting paint on me and not being able to say anything because I was afraid that she wouldn't believe me. Even when I started bringing along an apron to art classes in an attempt to protect my uniform, they snuck behind me and did it anyway.

You were the one who saw them doing it and exposed them to the teacher.

Of course, then they resorted to worse things; like taking my pencils and pens when I wasn't looking and breaking them in half. Like taking my rulers and sharpeners and shattering them into pieces. Like taking my erasers and using scissors to shred them to so many little pieces.

Like scribbling vulgar messages in pencil, belittling me, in my textbooks. The teachers don't take textbooks for marking your work, so they wouldn't know. The ones who did it knew I was too afraid of what they'd do next to tell them. I would find those messages, and erase them.

Some of those messages, and the verbal comments, were regarding us two. I did hang out with one of our classmates—do you remember Park Jinwoo? We're from the same area, and live near each other too, which was how we befriended each other. Even though he's really cute, too, I never saw him as anything more than a friend, as did he. I was called many names, ones that didn't suit twelve-year-olds like me, for being both your and his friend.

I liked you because you defended me from the mean remarks and comments they said when you were around. I liked you because you reminded me that what they said shouldn't define me and that you'd still be my friend.

So we finished that year together in the same class, but in the next, we were separated by being put in different classes, and we were on different floors, too. On top of that, it was finally time to take our education a bit more seriously. With those combined, neither of us had time to meet up and spend time together during those first few weeks of adjusting to school after a long break.

But I didn't want to bond with you again. I already knew I was in deep trouble for liking you so much – what would people think, if they found out after so many protests that you were a friend and nothing more? I was afraid that things would get worse for me.

Then there was the fact I already knew you liked Chaeyeon. That was what I thought, but you told me yourself a few days later, when we met after school and waiting for our parents to come get us, that you liked another one of your classmates.

Honestly, even though I was just about avoiding you at that point, I think I was hoping you'd mostly gotten over Chaeyeon. Instead you'd told me you liked another girl.

Another girl, smarter than me. More popular than me. More beautiful than me.

Looking back, I don't know why all that bothered me. I suppose it was because I had already been mentally beaten down to the point, I was just insecure about and afraid of everything—one being saying the wrong thing to someone and getting my crush on you exposed.

I think you want to know how the rumors about my feelings for you started, so I'll tell you. I was telling one of my closest friends about you, and how I felt, because I just had to tell someone—and that someone had to be someone I trusted, of course. I was getting more and more stressed constantly keeping it in, constantly watching myself.

We were eavesdropped by the girl we both know too well—Park Haewon, who I had the unfortunate curse of sharing a class with. You know how it's impossible for the girl to keep a secret, simply because she finds it amusing to watch anyone who she considers below her suffer because she exposed them. I often wonder these days; how can anyone not yet thirteen be so vicious?

As you can guess, although I pleaded with her not to tell, she did. She told all the girls in our class, and they told their friends in other classes, and eventually, it reached your ears. I was just lucky the boys in my class didn't find out, or I wouldn't have been sane with the relentless teasing and mockery that would have followed me in addition to the bullying that was already driving me crazy.

Do you remember when you asked me if it was true, one day? When we were the last ones left, both because our parents were busy and forgot to pick us up? "Nari," you started seriously, "is it true, the rumors? The ones that you like me?"

I didn't play around; I didn't stall. I just blurted instinctively, "no, but kind of. I used to like you...back when we used to talk about Harry Potter all the time. Not anymore."

What I really wanted to say was, "yes, I do like you a lot."

"Oh," you looked embarrassed as you turned away. "Okay. I didn't think you would ever...I mean, I thought you said we were just friends."

"Well, we are," I said, a bit more sharply than I intended. "We were back then, too. If you never knew, and I never said anything, and you never felt the same, then what else do you call our friendship?"

"True," you conceded. "I'm sorry."

And that was that. My father arrived and took me back home and we continued running into each other by accident every week.

Over time, my feelings started fading, but somehow, I'd managed to develop a fear of romantic attraction after all I went through. The kids in our year never once stopped teasing me for it. If they did, then it was a miracle. I had succeeded in my goal of pushing you away by surrounding myself with friends, true or not, and never saying more than a few words to you.

And then, of course, everything finally became too much and I stopped attending school for a while, only coming for exams. My end-of-the-year results weren't exactly great – they sucked, actually. I was in no mindset to focus on studies no matter how much my parents nagged, scolded, and yelled. I heard you did great, though, and I was and am happy for you about that.

The next year, I transferred schools to stay away from all the people I hated—and, though I never told my parents, you. I was nearly fourteen and I made that decision at such a young age. I wanted no more hurtful distractions, no more reminders of my guilt, though I missed you even after I realized my feelings had faded and had been fading for a long while by then.

I wonder, were you hurt by the fact I didn't seem at all inclined to mend our friendship? Or were you glad that I didn't once you confronted me about the rumors, afraid that I would like you 'again'?

Whatever you felt, I know that to this day I feel very guilty about what I did. I was being selfish and a horrible friend. I hope you forgive me one day. I may not like you anymore since it was just a childhood infatuation, and we may not be close anymore, but I hope you forgive me for being the worst friend ever.

Until we meet again at the upcoming high school reunion,

— kim nari, your book-buddy.

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WORD COUNT: 2721

A/N: i really went for it with the angst, didn't i? unfortunately, or fortunately, however you view it, there's more to come. this story's going to have twelve chapters, by the way! enjoy the ride <3