Eighteen’s Bed

"It's true, isn't it? You like Han Junwoo!"

I flinched at the sudden loud voice and instinctively frowned, too busy trying to process what the hell was going on. Fuck, why would I ever like a loser like that? Just being associated with him was enough to piss me off. I answered with as much irritation as I could muster.

"I'm telling you, no! No way! I really don't!"

At my words, Yohan lifted his head. But the expression on his face was a smirk—pure mockery.

"Yeah, right. Then what was that Post-it note with Han Junwoo's name on it?"

"What Post-it…? Wait."

I stopped mid-sentence. Post-it note. No way. The one where I had scribbled Han Junwoo’s name, only to accidentally write Yohan’s name too, and then panicked and threw it away. That piece of paper. The same one Yohan had used to mess with me by writing some bullshit about salted pollack.

That bastard Yohan. So he had seen it!

"You… Did you pick that up? And you wrote that stupid salted pollack joke on it on purpose? Just to test me?"

"Quit stalling and answer my question. I know you're desperately trying to come up with something right now."

"You're insane. I was just about to write that I hate Han Junwoo, but I stopped halfway."

Ha. Yohan let out a laugh that filled the air with ridicule. He looked at me like I was spinning the most pathetic lie. I scoffed in response, hitting my chest lightly with my palm—frustrated beyond belief. Yohan, still smirking, asked again.

"Then why did you hurriedly scribble something out?"@@novelbin@@

"That was…"

Your name.

But I couldn’t say it. I clenched my mouth shut. Yohan's smirk only deepened at my silence. The moment I saw that distrustful look on his face, I wanted to spill the truth just to wipe it off. But reason held me back.

Should I just say it? What kind of face would Yohan make? The thought of it gave me an odd thrill—but that would be a microscopic happy ending.

"……."

Was I really supposed to throw away my future just for a brief moment of satisfaction? No way in hell. After a long internal struggle, I decided to give up a small hand and end this situation. A macroscopic happy ending was more important. Besides, Yohan’s suspicion was starting to get on my nerves.

I ran a finger across my forehead. Was this the right choice? My hesitation didn't last long.