Chapter 32
Noeul is a master of unrequited love. From elementary school until now, he has always been in love with someone who didn’t love him back.
When he was a child, it was always the prettiest girl in class—the one every boy liked.
He would imagine that when she gave him candy or wanted to sit next to him, it meant she liked him too.
Then, when the new school year came and the prettiest girl changed, so did the target of his affection.
In middle school, things got more complicated.
His “crushes” became closer to hatred.
That was when his shame about his own looks peaked, and that shame turned into anger toward pretty people.
Noeul convinced himself he hated attractive girls.
He imagined what mean things those girls might secretly say about him, and the anger inside him grew.
But even in the midst of that, there were moments when he couldn’t help but feel fluttered by a pretty girl.
When that happened, he felt ashamed for feeling it.
That shame became more anger, and in his mind, the girl became a complete villain.
By high school, he found an escape in studying.
It turned out there was a way to gain self-respect without being good-looking—through grades.
No matter how ugly you were, teachers praised you if you studied well.
Friends admired you and came to ask for help with things they didn’t understand.
That was probably when Noeul first learned how to function socially—or at least pretend to.
Even then, Noeul still had crushes.
One girl he liked told him, “You’re cool because you’re good at studying.”
Back then, when he was still naive, he actually believed her.
Unlike his middle school self who demonized the girls he liked, the high school Noeul turned them into angels.
He never confessed.
He simply couldn’t help showing his feelings.
That’s when he learned something important—the ugly can’t be cool, and they can’t be loved.
It was a painful lesson, but it saved him from greater embarrassment later in adult life.
After years of experience, Noeul realized there was a cycle to unrequited love.
First came the unnoticed spark of interest.
Then came the quiet period of secretly enjoying that feeling without showing it.
But once the feelings grew stronger, he’d start to run away early—because he knew how painful it would become.
Sometimes he managed to escape; other times, he didn’t.
When he failed, that’s when hell began—misunderstanding, overthinking, getting hurt, recovering, convincing himself everything was fine, despairing again…
After long suffering came burnout.
He would get so emotionally exhausted that he couldn’t even think anymore.
Loving someone one-sidedly takes energy, and eventually, he’d run out.
He wouldn’t stop liking them right away, but he’d stop doing anything about it.
He’d just start watching from a distance.
And after enough time passed, somehow, the feelings would fade.
Now, Noeul felt he was reaching that burnout stage.
He had kept testing—“It’s definitely not me and Jiwoo, but maybe… just maybe…”—only to find every possibility closed.
He hadn’t really needed to test it, but the only way to kill hope completely was to confirm it yourself.
Maybe he should even thank Jiwoo—for not being ambiguous, for not leading him on.
After all, you can only “string someone along” if they’re worth keeping around.
Putting someone like Noeul in your “dating pool” would only make it look cheaper.
Jiwoo was always clear.
She wanted to be close friends with Noeul.
She saw his good traits—his thoughtfulness, his effort, his personality—and chose to be his friend despite his looks.
But even seeing him that kindly, she still didn’t want anything more.
Noeul decided not to think, If only I weren’t ugly.
Because that scenario didn’t exist.
He felt both relieved and oddly sad that his crush was declining.
It was good to feel calm again, but calm and dull are only a paper-thin difference apart.
He no longer felt those moments of excitement, of pounding heartbeats, of aching tenderness—at least not when it came to Jiwoo.
The truth was, if not for his insecurity about his looks, even one-sided love could be a feeling worth savoring—whether or not it was reciprocated.
After all, if you’ve had enough crushes, you learn to secretly enjoy watching your own emotions stir and dance.
The fact that he could think such indulgent thoughts meant his heartbreak was truly coming to an end.
…Except for one thing that still bothered him.
“Hey, do you think I’d risk getting an F just to help you?”
When Noeul said that, Jiwoo’s expression had changed.
For a moment, her eyes wavered and her face stiffened.
It was brief, but Noeul didn’t think he imagined it.
She quickly smiled and said, “Oh, I just meant—” but she had looked flustered, maybe even awkward.
‘…’
Noeul decided not to read into it.
Jiwoo was used to being helped by others—maybe that’s why the comment had startled her.
Maybe she realized how entitled that made her sound and changed her tone.
There couldn’t be any deeper meaning than that.
“Hey, do you think I’d risk getting an F just to help you?”
When Jiwoo thought about it, Noeul was right.
Who would risk their own grade for someone else, even for a friend?
It was such an obvious truth, yet Jiwoo had lost her composure in that moment.
Because she was embarrassed.
It felt like Noeul had read her mind.
And she had been right—she really had thought that Noeul was doing it because he saw her as someone special.
Noeul’s words had sounded like, “You think I’d do that because you’re special to me? Don’t flatter yourself.”
Jiwoo wanted to sink into the floor.
It felt like he’d seen right through her self-absorbed thoughts.
And when she responded a beat too late, awkwardly, it was like she’d admitted he was right.
Maybe she should have clarified—said that it wasn’t because she was special, but because he was a good person.
But it was too late now.
She had missed her chance to explain, and any excuse would sound fake anyway.
Now Noeul probably thought she was some conceited narcissist.
“Ugh… what do I do…”
Ah, forget it. It’s over now.
Noeul will probably forget soon.
It wasn’t a big deal.
Give it a few days, and even she’ll start wondering if it really happened.
She was the only one still thinking about it—Noeul had surely moved on already.
People rarely care much about things that don’t directly concern them.
She told herself that and tried to stop thinking about it.
But despite the embarrassment, something else lingered.
Jiwoo felt… hurt.
At first she thought it was just shame, but it wasn’t.
She was genuinely hurt.
Every time she remembered his words, her chest ached.
It affected her mood the whole day, more than she wanted to admit.
Seriously? What was that supposed to mean?
I didn’t even look at the report because of you, and you say that to me?
Couldn’t you phrase it a little more kindly? You knew that would make me feel bad!
It’s like you wanted to embarrass me on purpose. Why would you do that? What did I do wrong? All I ever did was think about you.
The more she thought about it, the angrier she got.
Then she got annoyed at herself—for blushing and fuming over something he probably said without thinking.
Calm down, Lee Jiwoo.
Why are you making such a big deal out of nothing? He’s usually nice to you. Are you really going to hate him for one careless comment?
People make mistakes. You can’t just condemn someone for that.
…A joke? That was a joke? When I felt this awful?
Wow, unbelievable. Should I make a “joke” like that too, then?
Ugh… Jiwoo, why are you so petty? So thin-skinned? Can’t you just laugh it off? Why are you like this?
…Fine! Yes, I’m petty! What do you want me to do about it? I’m hurt! I’m mad! So what?!
Jiwoo couldn’t make sense of her own emotions anymore.
All she knew was that she was furious.
If Noeul had clearly done something wrong, she could’ve confronted him.
But to admit she was hurt over this would make her look ridiculous.
Was I always this angry of a person? Do I have anger issues now?
Even during her last argument with Hansol about “looks aren’t everything,” she’d felt this kind of irritation—and lately, it always seemed to happen because of Noeul.
What’s wrong with me?
“Should we do a quarter and each pick a flavor?”
Joonki said in front of the kiosk.
“Okay. I’ll take yogurt,” Hansol said.
“I’ll have…” Noeul began.
“You don’t get to choose,” Jiwoo cut in, frowning like a sulky raccoon.
“…Why not?”
“…Just because. I’m picking two.”
“…Whatever.”
Noeul quietly stepped aside from the kiosk.
But Jiwoo, still pouting, grabbed his arm and pulled him back.
“No, pick one.”
“…?”
Noeul gave her a puzzled look as if to ask, What’s with you?
Jiwoo lightly smacked his back several times.
“Hurry up! Pick one! Come on!”
“Okay, okay! Geez, you’re so impatient. I’ll take… cookies and cream.”
“I don’t like that one.”
“…?”
Joonki and Hansol both looked confused.
Jiwoo seemed to realize she was being weird and quickly softened her tone.
“Actually, I like that one. I’ll get cherry strawberry.”
“I’ll take chocolate mousse,” said Joonki. “I’ll pay for mine first.”
The four of them got their ice creams and sat down.
“It’s been forever since we’ve done this,” Noeul said, raising his spoon.
But before he could take a bite, Jiwoo blocked his spoon with hers.
“…?”
He tried to reach for another flavor, but she blocked that too.
It turned into a little spoon duel between them.
Blinking in confusion, Noeul asked, “Did I do something wrong?”
“No! Why would you think that? Did you do something wrong?”
“…?”
“You brat. Don’t eat.”
Noeul quickly ran through his thoughts, trying to guess what was wrong.
Was she joking? …No, something felt off.
She seemed irritated about something, but he had no idea what.
Then Jiwoo suddenly spoke in a calmer voice.
“Fine. You may eat.”
“…Thank you… ma’am.”
Noeul picked up his spoon again.
Just as he was about to take a bite, Jiwoo snapped,
“I told you not to eat! Even if I tell you to eat, don’t eat. Got it?”
“…??”
