---
Monday morning came with gray clouds and the distant rumble of thunder. Rain in Seoul was different from Lagos — gentler, more poetic. Amara stood under the school building's awning, her umbrella dripping, her heart weirdly restless. Today felt different.
Min-jun hadn't messaged her again since Friday. Not that she was expecting anything. But still… maybe she was.
"Good morning!" Ji-eun's voice chirped beside her, snapping Amara from her thoughts.
She turned and smiled. "Hey."
Ji-eun linked arms with her like always. "You look moody. Spill."
Amara hesitated. "It's nothing. Just tired, I guess."
Ji-eun raised an eyebrow. "You sure it's not about Min-jun?"
Amara blinked. "What? Why would it be?"
Ji-eun grinned. "Girl, you stared at your phone the entire ride to school."
Caught. Amara laughed sheepishly. "Okay, maybe a little."
"I knew it! Don't worry, he's just shy with girls he actually likes."
That sentence settled like butterflies in Amara's stomach. "You think he likes me?"
Ji-eun leaned close. "He invited you out, didn't he?"
True. Still, she reminded herself not to get carried away. She was the new girl. The foreigner. Maybe he was just being nice.
Classes passed in a blur. Teachers spoke quickly. Notes piled up. Amara focused — sort of. Her thoughts drifted to the evening: would he really show up? Would he bring friends? Would this feel like a date or a study session?
When the final bell rang, she packed slowly, nerves fluttering. Ji-eun nudged her.
"You're overthinking. Go. He'll be waiting."
Amara made her way to the café Min-jun had suggested — a small place tucked between a bookstore and a bubble tea shop. It was quiet, cozy, and smelled like coffee and vanilla.
He was already there.
He looked up from his phone and smiled. "Hey. I thought you'd changed your mind."
"Nope," she said, sliding into the seat across from him. "Just... took the long route."
They ordered iced lattes and a small plate of honey toast.
He spoke first. "You've adjusted faster than I expected."
She smiled. "I had to. I couldn't be the silent foreign girl forever."
"Silent?" he chuckled. "You spiked a volleyball like a pro last week."
She laughed. "Okay, that was instinct."
Min-jun leaned back, studying her. "You miss home?"
She nodded slowly. "Every day. It's loud and chaotic back in Lagos. The food, the music, the way people talk. Here… everything feels polite and distant. Beautiful, but lonely."
"That makes sense." He paused. "I felt that way in London. Everyone so careful. So cold."
They sat in silence for a beat, sipping drinks.
Then, softly, he asked, "Do you feel lonely at school?"
"Yes," she said, honest and without flinching. "But it's getting better."
His gaze didn't leave hers. "You're brave."
Amara swallowed. There it was again — that feeling of being seen.
Just as she was about to respond, the bell above the café door rang. A trio of students walked in, uniforms damp from rain. One of them spotted them and smirked.
It was Seung-ah — the girl from the hallway whispers.
She sauntered over. "Min-jun. Didn't expect to find you here... with her."
Amara tensed.
Min-jun didn't flinch. "We're studying."
Seung-ah raised an eyebrow. "Right. Studying." Her eyes flicked to Amara. "Hope you're enjoying Korea."
Amara forced a smile. "I am. Thanks."
Seung-ah's lips twitched. "Good. We wouldn't want you to feel... out of place."
The implication was clear. She walked away before either could respond.
Min-jun sighed. "Sorry about that. She's been weird since I... stopped talking to her.": "Were you two...?" Amara asked, trying to sound neutral.
"Briefly. She thought it was more than it was."
Amara stared into her coffee. "Guess she sees me as competition."
He leaned closer. "You're not competition. You're something else."
There was a beat. Her heart thudded.
"Min-jun…"
"Yeah?"
"What are we doing?" she asked quietly.
He hesitated, then said, "Getting to know each other."
She nodded. "Good. Just… don't be nice because you feel sorry for me."
His gaze softened. "I'm not."
They left the café an hour later. The rain had stopped. As they walked to the subway station, their umbrellas brushed. And in that quiet moment, she felt something shift — something beginning.
---
The week that followed came with small changes.
Min-jun started walking her to class. Ji-eun teased her mercilessly. More students began saying hello. Some out of curiosity, others out of sincere friendliness.
But not everyone was happy.
One afternoon, Amara opened her locker to find a note — neatly folded, no name.
*"Go home. You don't belong here."*
Her throat tightened. For a moment, she stood frozen.
She didn't show anyone — not even Ji-eun. Instead, she stuffed it into her bag and walked to class like nothing had happened.
But Min-jun noticed.
"You okay?
: She nodded. "Just tired."
That night, she stared at the note for a long time. Then, slowly, she tore it up.
Not because it didn't hurt — but because she wouldn't let it win.
---
Friday brought sunshine and a school-wide field trip to a traditional village museum outside Seoul.
Amara found herself seated beside Min-jun on the bus. Ji-eun sat behind them, winking as they took off.
They talked the entire way — about music, food, their families. He loved old hip-hop. She introduced him to Afrobeats. He'd never eaten jollof rice. She promised to bring some someday.
At the village, they wandered narrow lanes, trying on hanbok costumes and sampling sweet rice cakes. Ji-eun snapped photos of them — some of which ended up on the school's group chat later that night, with emojis and jokes.
Amara was smiling in every one.
On the way back, she dozed off against the window. At some point, her head drifted onto Min-jun's shoulder. He didn't move. Just smiled faintly and let her rest.
---
That weekend, Amara sat on the floor of her bedroom, surrounded by textbooks. Her parents were out, the apartment quiet. Her phone buzzed.
*Min-jun: "What are you doing tomorrow?"*
*Amara:* "Homework and maybe frying plantains. Why?"
*Min-jun:* "Wanna meet at Hangang Park? Just us?"
Her fingers hesitated.
Then: *"Okay."*
---
*End of Chapter Two.