"Oh. Hello there. I'm Park Haeun, and this is Choi Yuna." Haeun blinked, laughing nervously.
Dasom tilted her head slightly, observing their reactions.
The girl with the purple curls had her eyes wide open like a toddler that had been handed a flashy toy.
"It's nice to meet you. Ryu Dasom. But wait, should I call you by your name? What if you're older than me? I don't mean to be rude! I just—unni? No, that's not right. We're not close. I should just—"
"Chou Yuna!" Haeun snapped Yuna out of her rambling and Yuna scratched at her hair sheepishly.
"My bad."
Dasom let out a chuckle Haeun found strangely melodious.
"It's alright. You can just call me Dasom. Are you also Culinary arts students?"
"Yes." Both Haeun and Yuna nodded their heads, and Dasom clicked her tongue.
"Okay, that's perfect. I'm a…transfer student. I'm also in my second year and I'll be taking it with you. What class do you have next?"
Haeun scrunched her brows, confusion filling her face. A transfer student?
She had never heard of that. Transfer students were very rare, and were usually only accepted if they showed promise.
Her and Yuna shared a glance, before she faced Dasom again.
"Ohh. Alright then. We have Restaurant Management & Service now actually. Lecture Hall 2. It should last for an hour and 30 minutes. Have you sorted out your registration and all?"
At the sound of Haeun's question, Dasom's countenance changed, shifting to gloom and a hint of sadness. But it was brief and short lived, as she immediately nodded her head in response.
"Yes, I have. Can you lead the way?"
"Sure!" Yuna chirped in. "It's this way."
"I hope you have a great time with us. We're not so many. So you should fit in just fine." Yuna said as they started walking towards their next class.
Dasom chuckled, walking behind Yuna. "I hope I do too."
~
Haeun snuck a glance at her phone. It was almost time for the end of their Pastry & Baking II class.
4:30pm.
Baking was Haeun's kryptonite, as in the Pastry and Baking I class she took last semester, she'd managed to explode a bag of flour in Professor Bae Jiwon's face.
Professor Bae Jiwon, the slightly hipster lecturer in her early 30's, had still not forgiven her.
Judging by how often she asked if Haeun was making progress.
They were making tarts, Yuna's favourite pastry, and Yuna was gleefully mixing the ingredients with Kim Minjae.
Some of their classmates had repeatedly asked who Dasom was, and had reacted the same way Haeun did when it was revealed that she was a transfer student.
"She has good style. I'll give her that. And she has the vibes of a chaebol. I suspect she's filthy rich." Jihyo had whispered into Haeun's ears shortly before Pastry and Baking class had started.
Dasom was clearly a noob who had no idea what she was doing. Just like Haeun.
Her dough looked like it had gone to war, and she stared at the whisk like it was some complicated weapon.
"Am I doing this right?" Dasom asked innocently, holding up her dough like it was some fragile creature about to collapse. Her brows were furrowed, lips pursed, but her eyes were wide and hopeful.
Haeun couldn't help herself. She smiled apologetically, sensing Dasom's desperation for answers.
Who knew she could be this cute?
"I'm not, am I?" Dasom guessed in a small voice, shoulders sagging.
Haeun giggled softly. "Don't worry, I'm also terrible at baking. We can be hopeless together."
Then, turning to Yuna, she called out with a laugh, "Choi Yuna! Help us before we ruin this completely!"
Choi Yuna was regarded as the queen of baking in their year, and people usually flocked around her to get her assistance.
"Oh ye noobs. Let me show you how it's done!"
Yuna jumped in, helping both of them out with a wide grin on her face.
She mixed ingredients, rolled out dough, and guided Dasom's clumsy hands with her own bubbling enthusiasm.
After some time, the dough finally looked normal, and Dasom smiled, proud of herself.
She looked very happy. Almost too happy.
Haeun, finding it strange, frowned.
Why was she so excited? It was just baking. Flour, butter, sugar.
And with someone of her aura and appearance, she wasn't some pauper.
Still, the glow on her face was… interesting.
The trays were placed in the various ovens, and they waited for the tarts, the sound of giggling and talking filling the air.
Most of the talking was directed at Dasom, as people drilled her with several questions.
"Are you a chaebol heir?"
"What university did you transfer from?"
"Do you want some friends?"
Haeun had to push them back. "Okay guys, give her some space. Let's not overwhelm her."
"Thanks." Dasom whispered as the crowd dissipated, and Haeun nodded. "Of course."
After about 20 minutes, they brought out their trays, and the smell of butter filled the air.
"That smells so good." Dasom said excitedly behind Yuna.
The class gathered around, tarts were tasted, and Professor Jiwon finally stopped at their table.
She cut a neat slice, tasted, then nodded once.
"This is good," she said simply. "See you in our next class."
The room buzzed with relieved chatter. And then the clock struck 5 p.m.
Class dismissed.
They packed up their things and headed out. They walked in the direction of the lockers, and Haeun briefly opened hers to drop a book there, before shutting it.
"So, how was your first day?" Haeun asked Dasom casually.
Dasom only shrugged. "It wasn't bad."
Haeun tilted her head. That was it? After looking like the happiest person alive while whisking?
Just then Yuna leaned close, whispering, "I have a question."
Haeun narrowed her eyes. "Choi Yuna…"
She was too late.
"Are you by chance… into girls?" Yuna blurted.
Dasom froze, utterly dumbfounded.
She hadn't expected that level of bluntness so soon. Then, she burst into laughter, loud and light.
"Is it because of how I'm dressed?"
Yuna's cheeks turned pink. "Erm, well, I just thought—"
Dasom shook her head, still grinning. "I understand. I get that a lot. But aas much as women are cool, I don't think I'm into them. I'm not into anyone really. Or maybe I've not met the right person."
Haeun's eyes widened at Dasom's response. Honestly, she had assumed the same thing.
But still, she couldn't let her cover slip, so she smacked Yuna's arm with a glare, pretending to judge her for asking.
"You're such a bully."
Dasom just smiled, tilting her head. "Can I collect your numbers?"
"Yes." Haeun said. They exchanged phones, tapped, and saved. Yuna was about saying something else when a perfume hit Haeun's senses.
It was musky. Familiar.
Too familiar. Like a certain drunk boy.
The voice that followed the scent just confirmed her fears.
"Ryu Dasom?"
It was Seo Minho.