"five, six, seven, eight."

Are you a weirdo if you keep looking through the window across the street to see Gyubin constantly? Especially today?

Don’t think so. It’s not like you’re waiting for her, that’s weird. You’re just…checking outside. Every ten minutes…no, five…ok fine, you do check constantly.

In your defense, your bedroom window faces directly to her bedroom window, which means every time you look up from your book, your eyes naturally drift toward the house opposite yours. Excuses including the giggles across the street, the little waves she gives whenever you two make eye contact, sometimes the huge teddy bear she always dived to whenever she had a bad day (accompanied by her legs kicking vigorously).

For today, it’s the dress.

Her bedroom light illuminates, and your mind brings you to a stage with her as the main actress in the spotlight. She smooths the front of her white dress, twirls left and right, clearly inspecting herself. The dress isn’t over the top at all, but damn, doesn’t it suit her unfairly well. Very elegant, very simple, very demure. Such a serendipitous event, you tell yourself.

Alright, gotta duck behind the curta— oops, too late. She caught you already, waving her hands excitedly while immediately breaking into that familiar grin.

You could only wave back.

Words are impossible from this distance (unless you two shout), since her bedroom and yours face each other across a suburban street that’s wide enough for the world to witness the embarrassment of shouting if that is happening.

Languages formed. It started years ago since she first moved to this neighbourhood with her family — A wave is hi, holding up food is I’m eating, tapping your wrist means you’re late, middle finger is middle finger. (It’s only that one time, come on. Don’t be nosy.)

Back to the present, the main girl presses both palms against the window dramatically (you wonder if the sound reaches you first, or the glasses break first). She gives you a spin, the dress twirls naturally once again. She points at herself and raises her eyebrows.

Well?

You give her two thumbs up. A girl looks pretty, and she deserves all the praises.

Of course, the main actress gasps theatrically and places both hands over her heart like she won a Grammy. And, oh my god, she bows. This idiot (it does give you a chuckle, though. You always do.)

Her bedroom door opens behind her. Her mother appears and says something to her, Gyubin nods back. The girl grabs a small purse off the bed and about to walk out of the room. But she glances back toward your window one last time.

She points at herself, then mimics walking as she points down the street.

Ah, it’s prom night. Right.

You give her another thumbs up, which prompts a smile in her. Did you know that she has a cute smile? You know what’s cuter? Gyubin forms a tiny finger heart, and you make out back (well, awkwardly.)

Satisfied, she disappears from the room, and the bedroom light switches off.

You continue standing there long after she is gone. “…Lucky bastard.”

Now, Gyubin is pretty.

Funny and friendly, too. Teachers adore her a lot, she is a model student after all. The old ladies at the restaurants you two walk by remember her as “the pretty lass”, and heck, cats and birds sometimes gather around her like she just stepped out of a Disney movie.

It is, with high probability, that she’d have someone. Just that you didn’t think it’d bother you this much. Tsk, whatever. Good for her, definitely, but prom is such a pain to go. Dress up for a night surrounded by fellow teens and foods that clearly don’t fill you up as much as a bowl of ramen.

Are you projecting? Perchance. You don’t care at all. Not even once.

Except the fact that you have mumbled that same phrase around forty-seven times while trying to finish one chapter. The forty eighth was while making tea. And the forty ninth while rereading that same paragraph again since your brain is oh-so-busy with the lucky bastard who’s going with Gyubin instead of the book.

Fucking hell, the words all blur together now. What can you do, really, except to just slip the bookmark between the pages and close the book. Ugh, quite a waste of money buying that suit hanging on the wardrobe right there huh.

Half an hour later, you’re downstairs helping Mum wash the dishes, because it certainly beats sulking in your room with the suit right there. Ok, helping sounds generous, because you have been drying the same plate for the fourth time while keeping glancing at the front window.

“You alright, love?”

"Hm?” “You’ve been polishing that plate for five minutes.”

“Oh. Oops.”

Mum chuckles. “She’s leaving soon? The neighbour girl?”

“Yeah.”

“Prom?”

She hums knowingly when you nod. Man, parents truly are omnipotent.

Ding dong!

Oh? We don’t expect any visitors though? Both Mum and you look toward the hallway.

“You mind getting that? "Ok.”

Not many thoughts are on your mind, it could’ve been random people asking for directions, or a delivery you forgot that you have ordered. Yeah, who cares about the peephole, you can just tell them we’re busy.

Oh boy, the door opens, and your brain completely stops working.

Gyubin on your doorstep, with that same white dress, the evening sky behind her looks dull. Wow, now that you are closer to her, her hair is done so neatly, there are these small silver earrings with intricate engravings. One hand behind her back, and the other is clutching a tiny paper gift bag.

Huh. Well this is something.

“Hi” Gosh, even her voice is pretty, this is so unfair.

“Hey there, yourself. Didn’t your date already—”

“He cancelled.”

“Huh?” “Food poisoning…or he said.”

“Today?” “Mhm.”

To clarify, your brain is still trying to catch up with the situation itself. Prom is like an hour away from happening, and the date that is supposed to be with her is away due to unfortunate circumstances. The back of your mind suddenly flashes the suit hanging in your room, your hand fidgeting in your pocket, your mouth feels dry.

Oddly enough, your eyes fixated on her heels rocking slightly. Is she…no way, right?

“So. I have another plan…” She pulls her hand forward, revealing a small white box. And inside is a blue boutonnière. Oh. Oh my god. Is this a dream? You need someone to smack you to reality right now.

“Gyubin…?”

“Well, I figured…if my original date couldn’t come, I should probably ask the person I would love to go with, don’t you think?”