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1-800-CUPIDCOLUMN - N. RIKI (PART 2)

pairing : nishimura riki x fem!reader

read part one

synopsis : crushing? heartbroken? just confused? cupid can help!

or alternatively,

there was no way in a million years you would admit your feelings for your best friend. you’re way too busy with running your school’s “cupid column” to worry about confessing, anyway. things, however, do become interesting when a certain anonymous sender with very familiar handwriting asks you for advice about something that you swore has happened between you and riki. unfortunately, cupid’s not one for wishful thinking.

word count : 11k

genre : nishimura riki x fem!reader, fools in love, childhood friends to lovers, unrequited love, slowwww burn, minor tokuno yushi (nct) x fem!reader

warnings : teenagers doing teenage things EXCEPT admitting their feelings for e/o, cursing, crude humor, riki can be a dick at times

featuring : jungwon (enhypen), eunchae (le sserafim), wonyoung (ive), yushi (nct wish), mentions of other idols, additional fictional characters

playlist : fog - the regrettes | stupid cupid - red velvet | out of my league - fitz and the tantrums | ah-choo - lovelyz | lucky girl - red velvet

xvi. QUPRID COLUMN

“Y/N,” Principal Murphy said with a smile as you stepped into her office later that week. “Thank you for coming.”

You walked slowly, trying to figure out why she’d pulled you into her room on this early April day. You peeked at the other girl in the office, a black-haired and slightly cute-faced sophomore (or so you assumed).

Once you sat in the other chair across from Principal Murphy, she immediately started talking, “I called you in today because I’d like you to meet your successor to the Cupid Column. This is Lee Wonhee.”

You turned to the girl with an awkward smile. “Hello.”

“Hi,” she replied. “It’s really nice to meet you. I can’t believe you’re Cupid.”

You looked at her. “I take it you like the Column?”

Wonhee nodded vigorously. “I love it. It is such an honor to be able to run it after you.”

Principal Murphy stood up from her desk. “Y/N and Wonhee, I have a meeting to attend to regarding the Student Athlete Leadership Team in just a few minutes, so I have to leave. Y/N, I was hoping you could show Wonhee the ropes of the blog and how you respond to submissions. Maybe you could use the one from last week as an example.”

Right, the “one from last week.” Also known as the one you were ninety-nine percent sure was from Riki, also known as the one you had read over about fifteen times, and also known as the one that Ms. Kerstappen said you should save for a big, final issue of the school paper. That submission.

Seeing as you really had no other option, you gave the principal a thumbs-up as she slipped out. Once the door of her office shut, you turned to Lee Wonhee.

“What submission from last week?” Wonhee asked immediately.

“That’s…” you trailed off, mind flashing to the crumpled paper in your bag. “...we’re not gonna do that one. I talked to Kerstappen, the journalism teacher, and she said for me to save it.”

Wonhee nodded. “Why would you save it?”

You pulled your computer out of your bookbag, which was leaning against your chair. “She said something about a ‘Final Farewell’ edition of the column before I pass it down to you.”

“Right,” she responded, “but why save that one specifically?”

You shrugged with upturned palms as if to tell her, ‘beats me.’ You powered on the computer and typed in your login. “I seriously don’t know. But at this point, I don’t care. I only have this column for like, two more months.”

“Can I read it?”

You typed in the website where the blog resided. “In a minute. Let’s log in first.”

You logged out of your current session to show Wonhee the login information. You grabbed a pen and a notecard off the principal’s desk and scribbled down the information:

Username: ccupid23241

Password: 7xY-NK-1009

“You can change that password once the column is officially yours,” you clarified. “That’s just the one they randomized and gave me when I started in August.”

Wonhee nodded as you showed her around the site.

“This,” you started, “is the most important part. This hotbar shows you submissions, pending approvals, reactions, and all of your posts. At the bottom, there are cosmetic settings. I just changed the layout of the blog from Valentine’s to a spring-summer theme about a month ago. I change it according to the season, but feel free to do what you want as long as it’s appropriate for school.

“Also,” you continued, clicking on the ‘Reactions’ tab, “I’m sure you know, but everyone who accesses the site has to log in to see anything. Most people are using their school e-mail. So, even though these comments are masked by anonymous usernames, you can report them via these three dots. It’ll send the school an email with their comment and their name. Super helpful for the people who comment mean things.”

To your surprise, it seemed like Wonhee was retaining most of the information you were loading onto her.

“One thing I like,” you returned to the cosmetic settings, “is changing the name based on the season. Halloween’s ‘Boo-pid Column’ was one of my favorites.”

“Oh!” Wonhee piped up, “I actually wanted to ask about that.”

“What?”

She smiled. “Is it okay if I change the name in general once I take over? I was thinking ‘Quprid Column.’”

You nodded slowly, unsure why the name change idea seemed to bother you. “Should… should be fine. I would run it by Murphy, though.”

Wonhee nodded. “Anything else?”

You thought deeply for a second, but found nothing to remind her. “You’re gonna be shadowing me, right?”

“Until you graduate, yeah.”

“Then anything else that comes to mind, I will address later.” You shrugged.

“Can I read the submission from last week?” she asked again.

“Let’s focus on learning how to answer a submission first.” You laughed, clicking on the submissions tab.

xvii. SENTIMENT OF PARALYSIS

The crumpled paper stared right back at you from the desk in your room. The words on the page seemed to dance across the lines, off the page, and around your room, tormenting you with the fact that it had been almost a week since you’d seen it, and you couldn’t change the rising idea in your mind that Nishimura Riki had written the letter you’d read.

By the second or third time you’d seen the phrases “I cannot do life without her” and “who lost not only my best friend but I think my first love” sprawl across your ceiling and end up back on the paper, you contemplated throwing the wrinkled page into the trash, never to be seen again.

Even after Lee Wonhee had bothered you about reading it at least five times, you still hadn’t worked on drafting a response. You couldn’t. Every time you looked at the letter, you felt a deeply ingrained sentiment of paralysis.

Beyond yourself, you weren’t sure how to answer as Cupid. Not once this year had anyone sent Cupid a letter so immensely emotional that it felt like they had no other option. Sure, now and then, there were submissions asking about having crushes on friends, but not once was there one where they admitted to being secretly in love with their friend.

If you weren’t so damned by the handwriting, you’d give this anonymous sender your same spiel about being in love with your best friend. But if this person was really Riki, it would feel too much like you were telling him directly. Even with the name “Cupid” you were hiding behind, the idea made you chicken out of everything before you could get a word of response on the paper.

As if Lee Wonhee could hear your inner dialogue about her, her name buzzed across your phone screen with a message that read:

hey! have you drafted the response for that one ~secret~ submission? i’d love to read the submission and your response so i can mirror your style of responses better :)

Your eyes bounced between the text and the letter. You understood her eagerness to help, but you couldn’t stand how many times she asked you and seemed not to get the hint that that specific letter was almost off-limits.

You picked up the phone from the bed. You opened the chat with Wonhee, fingers dancing above the keyboard as you tried to formulate a response:

not yet

still polishing it rn

i think i’m gonna listen to kerstappen and save it

she wants the last edition to be a big deal lol

You clicked your phone off. Surely enough, another text buzzed in, likely a response from Wonhee, but you couldn’t speak to her about it anymore. Hiding from Riki, Wonhee, and yourself made you want to explode. Speaking about that would only shave a couple of hours off the self-destruction timer.

It was like the paper could sense your anxiety, because it was blown off your desk and onto the ground, right at your feet. Your open window caused the wind to blow more than just the letter onto the ground, as it also fell with some homework. But against all odds, the homework didn’t land at your feet. The letter did, almost as if it was saying “read me again, Y/N.”

You snatched it off the ground before it was blown anywhere else in the bedroom, crumpling it in a small ball, the same state you’d actually found it in, and shoved it somewhere in your backpack that was next to your bed.

When you actually looked at your phone again for the first time in a few minutes, you were shocked to find that the message you’d initially assumed was a response from Wonhee was actually a text from the elephant in the room.

Nishimura Riki sent a text to a group chat named “Dinner friday + Welcome Woonhak”, consisting of you, Jungwon, Wonyoung, Eunchae, Woonhak, and himself. It was the group chat that you’d created in the beginning of your sophomore year of high school, with the name changing according to Woonhak's joining. The group chat had been named solely for dinner plans on a Friday, but none of you ever ended up changing the name. The text read:

Is everyone free next week on Saturday? My place and free food

Say yes or I'll kill myself

You laughed a bit to yourself, then froze. Riki was probably in his house across the street. The reminder of the sudden proximity scared you into silence.

xviii. LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE

The next week, on that Saturday, you were late to Riki’s house.

Despite living directly across the street, and the fact that you were always the first one to show up when he hosted, it was about seven minutes past 6:00 p.m. when you made your way to knock on the door of Nishimura Riki’s house.

“You’re late,” he greeted you as he opened the door. Behind him, you could hear Wonyoung and Jungwon’s voices echoing through the halls.

You stepped in. “Pretty sure I beat Eunchae and Woonhak, though.”

He shook his head. “They’re in the basement.”

The aforementioned duo entered the hallway from the left. Eunchae spoke to you immediately, “You’re late, Y/N.”

“I realize,” you replied, nodding at Woonhak as a greeting.

“How were you the late one?” Jungwon asked when you stepped into the living room. “You live across the street.”

Why were you late? It was a great question.

“Just… doing stuff.”

Riki furrowed his brow at you. “Very non-specific.”

Non-specific indeed. That’s how you’d like it to be. He didn’t need to know about the letter, or that you were almost 100% certain it was from him, or that for the past week and a half, you couldn’t sputter an answer to his submission. To your surprise, though, he didn’t seem concerned that it wasn't answered yesterday. Perhaps the letter wasn’t from him after all.

When you finally took your shoes off, Riki nodded towards the basement door. “Pizza’s downstairs. We were waiting for you to show up so we could eat.”

“Wow,” you responded, a small and awkward laugh escaping your lips. “No pressure on me to show, then.”

The six of you trekked down the steps towards the basement, Wonyoung starting a conversation about some boy in her class who pissed her off yesterday. Once you reached the bottom floor, two pizzas were waiting on a coffee table that was sat between two couches.

“Your new basement looks nice, Riki,” Eunchae said.

Riki’s basement had been redone this school year and hadn’t been finished until just a month ago. It was in good taste that he hosted again, but you’d already seen the basement when it was initially remodeled.

You sat on the couch and opened a pizza box as everyone went to their own devices.

“You guys want an updated basement tour?” Riki asked, which was then met with a wave of agreement. He peeked to you on the couch. “Y/N?”

“I’m good,” you replied, “I’ve seen it.”

The five disappeared, and you grabbed the closest TV remote to turn on something to watch. The first streaming service that came across your view was HBO Max. You clicked the button, pizza slice in your other hand, and lay back and hoped you’d find something watchable.

Little Miss Sunshine. You hadn’t seen that in years. In fact, the last time you’d watched it was in your bedroom, on a laptop via a piracy site, with Eunchae and Riki. You were no older than fourteen at the time, and, as fourteen-year-olds typically did, you resonated heavily with a few of the characters in the movie.

You heard Riki’s voice behind you:

“And this is the guest room… if you guys ever want to stay the night or something.”

You focused back on the screen.

Would it be crazy to put on a movie that sent you right back to the summer between eighth and ninth grade? Perhaps. It would be especially crazy because you specifically remember that exact night. It was the first night you realized you had deep feelings for Nishimura Riki—

The air was sticky in June, as it almost always was in Palo Alto. Something about the weather that night, though, felt a different type of hot. It was almost dusk when you finished the movie, and you, Riki, and Eunchae were all huddled together on your half-made bed at the time.

You were sitting in the middle, laptop in your lap, completely overheating because it was too old to be processing a piracy site at its age. The room with you three was quiet—save for the movie, the slight whirl of your ceiling fan, and a few distant voices that could be heard through your open window.

Around five minutes to the movie’s end, Eunchae stepped out for the bathroom. You’d asked her if she wanted you to pause the movie, but Eunchae had assured you it was fine. She doubted she’d miss anything in the last few minutes anyway.

So, when the movie finally did end, you realized how dark it had suddenly gotten. It was completely different from when you’d started the movie, obviously, but you’d felt like you’d been in a vacuum of time while it played. With the credits rolling, you tried to stretch in your spot. That was when you remembered you were not only sitting next to Riki, but you were physically touching. You’d had crushes on him in the past, but your heart rate picked up a different rhythm that night.

When you shut the computer, you scooted away from him, afraid he could feel the heartbeat radiating off of you. His hair back then was much messier and a bit browner, and his cheeks were much fuller, and his eyes filled to the brim with hope. His cheeks were a dusty pink that night, hard to see, but you somehow made it out through the dim lighting in the room. That was when you knew.

—So, now, almost four years later, and still in love with him, you weren’t sure it was the best idea to relive the moment you knew.

“Okay,” Riki said as he snapped you completely out of your train of thought. “Basement tour over.” He came to sit next to you on the couch, leaning and grabbing a slice of pizza. The remaining four came and filled out the other spots on the couch.

“Little Miss Sunshine…” you heard him mutter from next to you, squinting his eyes with a smirk you nearly missed. “I haven’t seen that movie in years.”

From the corner of your eyes, a head snapped in your direction at the name of the film. Hong Eunchae. Why was she looking at you?

She smirked when you met her gaze. “The last time I watched that movie, Y/N’s school computer was overheating. We had to pause, like, twice, so she could put an ice pack on it, because the movie kept pausing.”

You squinted a bit at her, unsure of her smirk. “In my defense, the piracy site was too overwhelming for the computer.”

“You wanna watch it?” Riki tapped your knee, which sent an electric feel through your body.

Wonyoung piped up. “I’ll watch it. I have to check it off my LetterBoxd watchlist.”

“Woonhak? Eunchae? Jungwon?” Riki asked as he grabbed the remote, pointing it towards the TV, ready to press play.

Woonhak shrugged as Eunchae sent you another knowing smile. What did she know?

The responses were enough for Riki to hit play, because moments later, you heard “The Winner Is” by DeVotchKa and Mychael Danna playing through the TV speakers.

———

The part in the movie where Richard Hoover gets pulled over for his car horn is when you decided you needed to dip from the area for a drink.

As discreetly as possible, you tried to lean over to Riki. “You got a drink fridge down here still?”

He shook his head and spoke lowly. “Upstairs now. Konon’s friends wouldn’t stop spilling shit.”

You nodded, getting up and climbing over Riki, then Wonyoung. A few paces away from the steps, you turned back around and walked back to Riki. You perched over the couch and whispered, “Can you show me?”

Riki grumbled as he got up, but he followed you up the steps to the empty kitchen. He led you to the pantry, in which there was a small drink fridge. You opened it and grabbed a Coke Zero.

Riki was leaning against the counter, lower back and palms on the granite as he watched you. To your surprise, he didn’t return downstairs and instead struck up a conversation with you:

“Y’know, I actually read the column this week.”

You turned your neck to him so quickly that it almost snapped. “What?”

“The Cupid Column.”

“Yeah,” you replied, “I gathered that much. You’re reading the Cupid Column?”

He shrugged as if it were the most casual piece of information ever. “Yeah. I mean, I skimmed it.”

“Why?”

He shrugged again as you came to stand opposite him. “Looked interesting, I guess.”

You weren’t buying his act for a second. “...Right.”

You two didn’t exchange words for a few seconds, almost as if sizing each other up. You couldn’t read Riki’s mind, but you were sure as Hell of what was going through yours:

First of all, why on Earth would Riki read the column randomly? It was incredibly out of character for him.

Secondly, did he just so happen to read the issue in which his (alleged) letter would’ve normally been published in? It wasn’t in the issue, but in your mind, if someone wanted it to be kept a secret that they sent a submission in, randomly mentioning that they read the paper—and more specifically, the Cupid Column itself—would be very adjacent to an admission of guilt (or, in this case, an admission of submission).

Third, why would he be looking at you all suspiciously? Did he have an inkling that you ran the column? Or could it just be because he wanted to see your reaction, as a part of the newspaper committee, that he finally gave your paper the time of day?

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You finally broke the stand-off.

He snapped out of his dazed state. “No reason.”

You crossed your arms at him. “You know, you’re acting really weird these days. I feel like you’ve been trying to explode me with your mind.”

He chuckled a bit. “Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know,” you replied with eyebrows drawn together. “Why would you?”

Riki glanced towards the glass door in the kitchen that led outside. He sighed before speaking. “You still haven’t picked a school?”

You followed his gaze. He was looking at the moon again.

You bit your lip. “I still have two weeks.”

Riki rolled his eyes as he turned back to you. “Yes, Y/N, you have exactly two weeks to decide whether you want to stay here or disappear forever. Two weeks.”

“You’re acting like if I go to NYU, I’ll die.”

Riki ran a hand through his hair. “Sure.”

You thought for a second about returning to the basement. In this light, your heart was hammering in its chest just by being alone with him. It was, both unfortunately and fortunately, reminding you of the June night you first realized you didn’t have a crush on Nishimura Riki—you loved him.

You stepped slightly closer to him, tilting your head with a small smile. Had everything you suspected come true, you would’ve grabbed him then and there and given him four years (if not more) of hidden feelings.

But you didn’t. As much as you wanted the letter to be about you, you had no confirmation. So, instead, you gave him a half-assed, shy smile that said “I wish I could tell you everything,” and walked towards the basement.

———

A few hours later, when everyone else had already left, Riki walked you upstairs. To your left, you peeked at the clock in the kitchen. 12:03 a.m. The house was almost quiet, with everyone most likely asleep, save for you and Riki. When at the door, you immediately started pulling your sneakers on, one by one.

As you were pulling the heel of your left sneaker over your foot, Riki stood by the door. He watched you hop into your shoe and started talking:

“That was fun.”

You looked up at him from your crouched position. You were confused, but responded, “Yeah.”

“I mean,” he continued, “I always have fun with everybody. But tonight was fun, right?”

You nodded as you finally stood. “Yep.”

“Just gonna be weird when we can’t do it as often anymore.”

You gave him an awkward look. “I think you need to stop worrying about graduation so much. We’ll still have the summer.”

Riki swallowed and nodded back at you.

For a very long minute, neither of you said anything. You had your hand on the doorknob of his front door, ready to leave for some time, but the way he was looking at you was like he was begging you to stay.

Finally, Riki spoke again. “Do you wanna go on the roof?”

You almost sighed. You did want to, but it was already past your curfew. Sure, your parents knew where you were, and it was a weekend, plus they didn’t care if you were out past curfew if it was with Riki or Eunchae. But if you took Riki’s offer to go out on the roof, you might end up throwing yourself off of it.

“I can’t tonight,” you admitted pitifully. “It’s past midnight, and I have work tomorrow. Sorry.”

You weren’t lying, but your shift wasn’t until 5:00 p.m. A trip onto the roof, like you’d done many times before, wouldn’t impede your ability to work. But being alone with Nishimura Riki would impede your ability to function as a human.

He tilted his head and nodded again. “I get it.”

You scratched your neck. “I should probably get going then.”

“Oh, yeah.” Riki stepped out of the way for you to open the door without hitting him.

You stepped out of the Nishimura’s house and walked across the street to your own house. Even though the walk was a measly thirty seconds, it felt like an hour before you reached the door, namely because you could feel Riki’s eyes on your back the entire way there.

When you turned around to wave a final goodbye to him, he wasn’t in the doorway anymore. Every light in the house was off, except his bedroom. You saw his silhouette behind the curtains, almost tempted to yell out to him and take his offer to go on the roof.

Instead, you just opened the door and went to your own bedroom for the night.

xix. FIVE THOUSAND MILES AWAY

You tried to ignore anything weird from Riki for almost the next month. Sure, it was suffocating you not to bring up the letter, but he never seemed to bring up the column again since that night at his house.

Every time you saw him, you tried your hardest not to think about it, too. That, however, was easier said than done. Especially, when during graduation practice, he finally brought it up to you after the month that had passed:

“Y/N,” he whispered from the spot diagonally behind you. He tapped on your left shoulder as Principal Murphy was speaking.

You tried to ignore him again, focusing on the words of the principal.

Riki tapped harder.

James Chao, who was on your left, laughed to himself at Riki’s antics. You rolled your eyes and whipped your head around to look at him.

“What?”

“Is there any chance that the Cupid Column would lose a letter?”

Your breath got caught in your throat. You tried to mask it by answering as quickly as possible without drawing attention. “I guess they could. Why?”

He nodded a bit to himself, considering whatever he was thinking of. Maybe he really had no idea that you ran the column. You couldn’t drown out the idea that if he thought that Cupid lost a submission, the submission might actually be his after all.

Riki didn’t say anything to you after you asked him “why?” He just sat back in his seat. You took that as a sign to turn back and listen to Principal Murphy talk about the walking order. You needed to pay extra attention because you were giving a speech during the actual ceremony.

“After the Chamber Choir sings,” Principal Murphy said as you focused back on her, “Y/N L/N is going to come up and do her speech.” She beckoned to you, as if telling you to stand up. You stood and walked to the podium.

“Y/N,” she continued, “just speak for a bit so the audio crew can adjust to your voice.”

You adjusted the mic a bit to your height. You turned to the principal and asked, “Do you want me to recite my speech?”

She shook her head. “Just say something so they can adjust.”

“Hello.” You awkwardly addressed your peers. “My name is Y/N L/N. I don’t really know what to say… just… speaking, speaking, speaking. Test, test, I guess. Sorry.”

From the crowd, you heard Yang Jungwon’s laugh boom through the room, prompting a few other students to chuckle.

“Thank you, Jungwon. I actually already wrote my speech, believe it or not.” You tried to speak casually to the group of students. A few laughed. “Anyone excited for the senior campfire next week?”

Several students cheered from their seats.

“Me too! Woo-hoo!”

Principal Murphy spoke next. “You’re adjusted, Y/N. Feel free to take a seat.”

You walked back to your spot.

The principal spoke again. “Next up is Pharita Boonpakdeethaveeyod to sing the Alma Mater.”

The majority of the rehearsal ceremony bored you nearly to death. Principal Murphy announced another speech by the valedictorian, a boy named Park Gunwook, and then her final speech, before the actual announcement of graduates and bestowment of diplomas.

She wasn’t going to have you all actually walk up one by one since there were almost one thousand students, so instead, Principal Murphy moved on to the final speech, which was by the salutatorian, Danielle Marsh.

During Danielle’s mic check, Riki tapped on your shoulder again. You ignored him. He tapped harder. You whipped around and grabbed his fingers roughly. “Stop.”

“Ow, ow, ow,” he whisper-screamed. “I’ll stop, I’ll stop.”

You let go. “What do you want?”

“It’s May.”

You gave him a confused look with upturned palms. “...I know that?”

“You picked whether you’re gonna be five thousand miles away and abandon everybody yet?”

You furrowed your brow at him. For his information, you did finally make a choice about two weeks ago, and you chose to stay close to home. You didn’t break the news yet, but even if you had chosen NYU, Riki should be happy for you. Not salty that you got a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Just then, Principal Murphy got back on the mic. “Alright, that concludes our graduation rehearsal. You all are dismissed from classes for the rest of the day.”

So, you picked up your backpack, slung it over one shoulder, and walked out of the gym, all the way to your car without speaking a single word to Riki.

You couldn’t place a finger on why he annoyed you so much today. Or maybe you could. It was the letter. It was always the letter.

xx. KEEPING A BIT OF A SECRET

It was a miracle you were able to finish a response to his letter finally. It actually had been almost two months since he’d sent it in, and you finally got the balls to write a response. Not only to his, but also to the other four you were saving for the issue that would be published next week. One — Riki’s — was about being in love with their best friend, one was about fake dating their enemy, and gaining real feelings, another was about having a crush on their best friend’s partner, one was about coming out to their best friends, and the final one was about a situationship that feels alive at night/online, but ghostly in person.

This was your best attempt at a response to Riki’s submission:

“Dear Anonymous Sender 294,

Not sure if you read the column at all — based on your submission about me “winning this time,” I’m gonna assume no. However, since you are most likely unaware, I’m in the same situation.

I met my best friend when I was still in my mom’s pregnant stomach. Our parents were (and are still) best friends. We’re neighbors. I, of course, had juvenile crushes on him all the time as a kid. I think I first really had deep, serious feelings for him around the end of eighth grade. Embarrassingly enough, he was a little shorter than me back then.

I knew I was in love with him, or the closest thing possible at the time, by the time we went to the winter formal together as freshmen. I’ve tried to get over him a million times. My friend even tried setting me up with someone! Nothing worked. And now, we’re here, both seniors, and about to potentially leave each other forever.

I’m keeping a bit of a secret from him, though. He thinks I’m gonna leave him for a school far away. I actually committed to the same school as him. That, and I feel like he’s been keeping a secret from me, too. If he reads this issue of the column, hey?

Anyway, I feel you incredibly deeply. I think you should talk to her and tell her how you feel. She may be closer to the answer to your problem than you think.

— Cupid”

If that submission wasn’t from Riki, you would be fucked. But your intuition was feeling good this time around.

It was about two minutes until you needed to head to the park near Northpointe for the senior campfire. The dress code was to wear the shirt of the school you committed to, so after all, Riki would find out that you’re staying close. Hopefully, that would ease his worries about you “abandoning everybody.”

You got off your bed, placing the anonymous letter from your best friend and first love away. You looked in the mirror, adjusting your UC Berkeley shirt so you didn’t look homeless.

Riki had actually asked if you wanted to carpool as always, but you declined, feigning an excuse about needing to get gas or something. You really just wanted to surprise him with your decision.

So, when the time did finally come to leave, you ran out of your house at 7:50 p.m.

When you arrived at the park, you immediately spotted Jungwon playing volleyball with Eunchae, Woonhak, James, Gawon, and Yushi. Wonyoung and Riki were nowhere to be seen.

You took a look at everyone’s shirts as you approached. Just as you remembered, Jungwon was wearing a gray tee with “Brown University” on it. Eunchae was in a blue shirt with yellow text that read “SPARTANS.” Woonhak was also wearing blue, but he was facing away from you. James was wearing a black tee. Yushi was in gray. Gawon was wearing a shirt that said “Stanford.”

“Stanford?” you asked Gawon as you came from behind.

She whipped around, volleyball in hand, before serving. “Y/N!”

She gave you a quick hug. Gawon had also not revealed her school to anyone, you guessed.

Eunchae ran from the opposite side of the net. “Y/N!”

“Hi,” you greeted her. “Where’s Riki and Wonyoung?”

She shrugged. “I dunno. Riki’s gonna be so thrilled when he sees your shirt! When did you commit?”

“Literally April 29th.” You laughed.

“Down to the wire,” Eunchae said as she gave you a tight hug.

“Hey,” Yushi spoke to you. It had been a while since you’d seen him in person, let alone spoken. He seemed to be over you from the surface. You gave him a real smile as you read his shirt.

“University of Cincinnati…” You read his shirt. “That’s far.”

“Their DAAP program is one of the best in the nation,” he responded, giving you a friendly hug. “Congrats on Berkeley!”

“Thank you,” you said. “Have you seen Riki?”

He gave you a knowing smile. “Not yet.”

Seeing as most of your friends had dispersed back to volleyball, you spoke again to Yushi. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m sorry!” He laughed. “Your crush is just so obvious.”

“Okay,” you responded, “that’s enough of that. I trusted you with that secret.”

He furrowed his brow. “I’m pretty sure everyone knows at this point except him.”

You dragged a hand down your face. “That’s reassuring.”

A few minutes into your casual conversation, a familiar voice called your name from behind. “Y/N?”

You turned around to see Riki. Even though you wanted to be annoyed at him again, your face broke out into an easy and soft smile. Next to him was Wonyoung. Riki, of course, was wearing a UC Berkeley shirt, but you focused more on Wonyoung’s shirt. It was a black tee with “Colorado” in big text and a small buffalo beneath it.

“CU?” You asked as she came over.

She ran to you with a hug. “My Y/N! UC Berkeley? I’m so proud of you, honey!”

You returned the hug just as tight. Your voice was muffled as you spoke into her shoulder. “I love you.” Once Wonyoung let go of you, she greeted Yushi. The two of them, without warning, walked away towards the volleyball court, leaving you and Riki alone.

“Berkeley.”

You smiled at him, nodding. “Berkeley!”

Riki offered you a fist bump. Instead, you wrapped your arms around his torso in a hug. It took him a second to return the gesture, but once he did, you felt your heart rate pick up. Once you let go of him, you did a spin in your shirt.

“You really thought I’d leave you?”

He scratched his neck with a laugh. “Maybe. I was just worried.”

You didn’t give him a response, just looked at him. After a minute, you asked him a question:

“Wanna go play some volleyball?”

After a few rounds of failed spikes and serves, you noticed people gathering around a newly made fire. Right, it was the senior campfire after all.

Wonyoung beckoned to the circle. “Do you guys wanna go sit in the circle?”

You were surprised by how many people from your school had actually shown up at the campfire. The park area was definitely big enough to hold just below one thousand people, but you didn’t expect everyone to show up. Truly, you only expected around maybe two hundred to show. It looked like it was closer to the five hundred mark, though.

James Chao led the group to the circle, but he didn’t end up sitting with you all. He and Gawon left to most likely look for Youngseo and Woochan.

Woonhak, who had left a bag next to the net that you initially hadn’t taken note of, opened the bag and laid out a few blankets. You sat next to Jungwon on a plaid quilted one, and moments later, Riki sat next to you. On the other blanket nearby, there were Wonyoung, Woonhak, Eunchae, and Yushi.

Someone nearby was listening to music on a speaker. You knew the song: it was “Fog” by the Regrettes, a song you’d been obsessed with the same summer you fell for your best friend. You nearly cringed at the revelation.

Eunchae caught your sour look. “Why are you making that face?”

You couldn’t lie. “This song reminds me of the summer between eighth and ninth grade.”

“Ah,” she said as if she knew something. “That was the Little Miss Sunshine summer, huh?”

You were taken aback. Did she have you figured out about Riki? Maybe Yushi was right; everyone except Riki himself knew.

You squinted at her before answering slowly. “...Yes.”

Eunchae smiled mischievously at you.

———

An hour and a half later, you had shifted to another blanket, this time with Eunchae, Yushi, and, again, Riki. Given that it was almost 10:00 p.m., you were getting sleepy. You’d been doing a lot the past few weeks, especially things that were graduation-related. You lay your head near Eunchae’s thigh, looking at the stars that were visible from the park.

Yushi, Wonyoung, and Jungwon were playing some game with their hands that you couldn’t decipher the rules of. Woonhak had disappeared about ten minutes prior, going to play cornhole in the dark with some other friends. Eunchae muttered something to the group about going to find her boyfriend.

Riki was sitting a bit far from you, not speaking to anyone or using his phone. He seemed to be spacing out. You tried to look at him without craning your neck or drawing any attention. When you peeked the next time, he actually caught you looking at him. You looked back at the sky and tried to mask your laugh.

Riki laughed too as he shifted to lie next to you. “How are you not bored?”

“I’m just having fun spacing out.”

“Space-ing out, you must mean.” Riki teased you.

You rolled your eyes even though you were sure he didn’t watch you. “That’s a corny joke.”

“Okay.”

You went silent for a second, listening to “Out of My League” by Fitz and the Tantrums play out of the speaker. After a second, you shrugged. “Your joke wasn’t that corny.”

“Thank you, Y/N. I try.”

For another second, you tried to think about a response. It wasn’t until you looked at the moon that you thought about something you could say.

“I told you.”

“Huh?” Riki responded, confused.

“The moon.” You pointed to the sky. “It’s gonna keep us connected from two minutes away.”

“Stop,” he said, poking you. “I was feeling emotional that night.”

You smiled. “It was sweet.”

You almost missed it, but Riki flushed. He dragged a hand down his face. “Thanks.”

You started humming “Out of My League” under your breath, continuing to look at the stars and taking an occasional peek at the boy next to you. You wanted to talk to him again, so you broke the silence:

“Can it be my turn to be poetic?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Riki nod. “Go for it.”

“I–”

Before you could get a word out, Eunchae popped back to the group. She locked eyes with you and gave you a wide-eyed look, but still spoke. “Anyone wanna get a group picture before we leave?”

“You’re leaving?” you asked as you sat up.

“Woonhak has to let his dog out, and he drove me.”

You nodded, standing up from your spot and shaking off the weight of your proximity to Riki. “Sure.”

You watched Riki stand up. He gave you a sheepish smile.

And in that moment, watching him look at you with that same vulnerable expression from the moon talk, you were finally sure. The letter was from him.

xxi. A COKE RANT

A week later, you showed up to school early. It had been one of those days where your anxiety had woken you up about fifteen minutes before your alarm had rung, and you knew exactly why. The final edition of the column was dropping today, and Nishimura Riki would read — and potentially decipher — your response, which felt like a confession of your feelings more than anything.

You sat in Principal Murphy’s office before school opened. Riki had sent you yet another text before school, asking if you wanted to carpool. You couldn’t. Not today.

What you could do, however, was find him just as school was ending. The paper had been put on display on corkboards, and there was a table in Buren West that was filled with editions for people to take. You camped out in the auditorium during the final bell, sitting with a classmate from your Journalism course, Bae Jinsol. Jinsol was the head of two of Northpointe’s columns: “Overheard at Northpointe,” which was a small issue of funny quotes people have heard, and for this issue of the paper (and the yearbook), the senior superlatives. That was the one you were looking forward to.

Right as the final bell sounded, you and Jinsol ran out of the auditorium to grab your editions of the paper. To your surprise, more students than you’d thought had gathered to grab theirs in Buren West, too. Wonyoung was one of them.

She walked over to you and Jinsol with her paper, careful not to get trampled by rowdy freshmen. “Hey, guys! My favorite newspaper committee!”

You flipped the paper to the Cupid Column, scanning for which order Riki’s submission was put in. Fourth. If you managed to catch him, you needed to wait for him to find his submission before you could gauge your next move.

“Most stylish…” Wonyoung read out, “...Nishimura Riki.”

You peeked over at her paper. “He’s totally gonna let that get to his head.”

Jinsol flipped to the Cupid Column. “Still no reveal for Cupid? I thought Kerstappen talked about a reveal.”

You shook your head. “Nope. Last time I talked to her, she wanted to keep it anonymous. It’s because of whoever’s her successor. She doesn’t want people trying to guess who’s running the column next.”

Jinsol nodded. She then tilted her head, tapped Wonyoung, and pointed to something on the paper. “Who the fuck wrote a coke rant for that fourth submission? ‘I don’t want you tracking my IP Address, phone number, or anything like that.’ Jesus.”

Wonyoung laughed out loud as you tried not to pay attention to them, focusing on the senior superlatives. Most likely to become president: Jang Wonyoung; Most flexible: James Chao; Most likely to be a vampire: Ricky Shen and Tomioka Mai; Person you’d trust with your life: Y/N L/N — oh, that’s you — and Danielle Marsh. You didn’t get to read the majority before Wonyoung tapped you on the shoulder.

“This edition looks so good,” she said, “you guys killed it!”

You gave her a quick hug, then dropped your edition of the paper lower in your vision. You were looking for Riki, and even though he was over six feet tall, you couldn’t spot his tuft of hair anywhere in the room. You said something to her and Jinsol about grabbing your backpack from the auditorium — a lie — and walked to the steps that led into the room, hoping to get a better view of Riki through the crowd.

You finally spotted him a few minutes later, walking in from the hallway on the left, with who you assumed to be Jungwon. At this point, many of the students who rushed for the paper had either dispersed from the lobby, taking their editions with them, or had returned their editions to the table.

From your vision, a sequence of events unfolded:

Nishimura Riki walked to the table and grabbed a paper.

He didn’t see you.

He flipped past the title page and unfolded the paper until he landed on the bottom right corner of the inner page: the area where the Cupid Column resided.

A finger traced down the issue, skimming over each response until it stopped on the fourth submission.

His finger glided across his submission, then to your response.

He froze.

His eyes widened. His face shifted. His grip on the paper tightened, crinkling the edges slightly. His head snapped up. He was searching for someone. His eyes scanned the crowd. Was he looking for you?

He didn’t see you watching him.

He swallowed. Hard. The shock on his face softened into something else.

He glanced at Jungwon, said something quick, and folded up the newspaper to tuck it under his arm.

He saw Wonyoung, somehow. He walked to her with a sense of urgency in his stride.

Was he looking for you?

You disappeared before he could find you.

xxii. SEAT SIX, ROW TWO

You woke up early for the second day in a row. Even though on Friday you’d woken up around fifteen minutes before the alarm sounded, today you woke up an hour and a half before your alarm.

Graduation was set for a 10:00 a.m. ceremony. You wanted to wake up at 7:45 to shower, shave, do your hair, makeup, etc., and get to the venue with your family at 9:15.

You woke up on and off since 6:15. Every time you tried to go back to sleep, you were woken by the image of Nishimura Riki searching for you amongst that crowd of students.

Your mother entered your bedroom around 7:30, seemingly to wake you up.

“You’re awake already?”

You looked at her with tired eyes. “Couldn’t sleep.”

She sat on your bed and gave your head a few pets. “I remember being nervous when I graduated, too.”

If only that were why you were nervous.

Your mother gave you a quick hug. “Start getting ready. Gramma and Papa will be here soon for pictures.”

You dragged a hand down your tired face and stood up after your mother left the room.

———

Against all odds, you managed to wash most of your exhaustion away in the shower, and you seemed to be back to normal by the time your grandparents came over to take pictures outside of your house. The sun was shining so bright that there was almost a reflection off your white graduation dress.

You peeked across the street to the Nishimura residence. Riki wasn’t outside, but his sister, Misora, was. She waved to you. You tried to stop the shakiness in your hand as you waved back to her.

Your grandmother approached, placing a hand on each of your shoulders, which eased your nerves. “I am so proud of you.”

———

At Mitchell Park with your family, you spotted Eunchae with her mother, father, and brother.

“Eunchae!” You called from across a field with a tall tree.

She whipped in your direction, an expression of relief painted across her face. “Y/N!”

You met her in the middle with a hug. “You look so beautiful.”

“Says you!” she shot back, looking you up and down after you both let go.

“Have you seen Riki?” she asked. “I’m surprised you two didn’t carpool here.”

“Not yet,” you replied. “But I said ‘hi’ to Misora earlier. I haven’t seen him since yesterday.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t break your door down yesterday.”

You looked at her, confused. “Why would he break down my door?”

She returned your look, until hers turned into one of shock, like she had spilled a secret.

“Eunchae, why would Riki be breaking down my door after yesterday?”

She covered her mouth with wide eyes. “Wonyoung’s gonna kill me.”

You grabbed her shoulders and shook them. “Eunchae. Spill. Now.”

She released the hand from over her mouth. “You can’t tell Wonyoung that I told you.”

You squinted your eyes. “Fine. Now spill.”

“Okay, so yesterday, Wonyoung was in the lobby, and I know you were there too, but this was after you left,” she spoke almost too quickly for you to decipher. “But basically, Riki found a copy of the paper and apparently asked Wonyoung where you were after he read it. Before you say anything, I don’t know what he saw in the paper or why he wanted to see you. That’s all I know.”

You froze but tried your hardest to mask it. Either Riki had figured out your identity, or he was looking to confess to you. Both options had you near passing out.

You shook your head, trying to get rid of your nerves. “So he’s been looking to talk to me since yesterday? He didn’t send me a text or anything.”

She shrugged, nervous. “Maybe it’s serious. I have my own theories.”

You waited for her to continue, but she didn’t. “Theories, like…”

She made a gesture of zipping her lips and throwing away the key. “I’ll tell you in good time.”

Your face dropped in annoyance. “I’m about to hit you.”

She shrugged again. “I can live with that.”

———

An hour later, you were at the venue, looking to avoid Riki at all costs. If you spoke to him before the ceremony, you might actually throw up all over your new gown and dress. You couldn’t afford to do that.

You’d seen Wonyoung and a few other friends, but Riki — and Jungwon — were nowhere to be seen. You figured if Jungwon was nearby, Riki would be too, so you tried to avoid them both.

Too many times did you see a six-foot figure you initially thought was Riki; too many times did it scare you.

You actually lucked out for almost the whole gathering — that was, until Principal Murphy ordered students to get in line, in order, to walk into the arena. Though Riki was far behind you in line, you knew you’d run out of luck by the time you were seated. He would be diagonally behind you.

And you did run out of luck.

By the time you were seated in the front row, seat five of the left section, your luck had run out. You could practically feel his eyes boring holes into the back of your skull, even as you tried to make conversation with James Chao on your left, or with Danielle Marsh on your right.

Danielle saw you bouncing your leg. She placed a hand on your thigh. “Are you okay?”

You nodded slowly, trying to slow the bouncing. You felt for your speech in your pocket. “I’ll be fine after I speak.”

You wanted to peek behind you to look at Riki to see if he was still looking at you, but you didn’t have to. James leaned over from your left and whispered to you:

“Did you piss Riki off?”

You furrowed your brow, then realized he definitely was still looking at you. You whispered back to James, “I don’t think so.”

He shrugged, and just as he did, Principal Murphy walked on stage. With her was the school district’s superintendent, the assistant principals, the secretary, and a few other adults you didn’t recognize.

“Hello,” she spoke into the mic, trying to quiet the crowd of students. “Welcome, Ravens of Northpointe High School, Class of 2024. In about ten minutes, your families will start filing in through the main entrance. The ceremony will commence in twenty. Before we start, I just want to say that I am so proud of this class of students. Thank you for working so hard this school year; this has been one of our best academically. Last year, the percentage of students admitted to an Ivy League university was around 1.5%, and this year, we bumped the number up to 4.7%. That’s not a small feat. I am incredibly honored to be the principal of this school.”

The entire student body erupted into applause at Principal Murphy’s words.

Twenty minutes later, the ceremony started. Principal Murphy gave her “Welcome and Opening Remarks” speech, which passed more quickly than you thought. Then, she called up the chamber choir, who sang the National Anthem.

Before you knew it, the superintendent called you up:

“It is now my privilege to introduce our next speaker, who has been chosen to represent the voice of the Northpointe High School Class of 2024. Please welcome Y/N L/N.”

A wave of applause followed the superintendent’s words, and you stood from your seat. You unfolded the paper in your pocket as you walked up.

When you got to the podium, you adjusted the microphone to your height. Once the applause died down, you scanned the crowd of students and smiled. You locked eyes with Riki. Row two, seat six. You glanced at anything else as you laid the paper with your speech on the podium.

“Hello, Northpointe Class of 2024.”

You took a deep breath to get over your nerves.

“For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Y/N L/N. With a class size of nearly one thousand students, this may be some of your first times seeing me.

“One thousand students, am I right? That number makes me feel so small in relation to everything when I say it. Because there are so many of us here that don’t know each other. We may have passed each other in the halls, shared classes, or exchanged names, but we didn’t really know each other.

“And yet, for a lot of us, we still all shared the same four years at Northpointe. We all complained about the early classes, the way Buren West would smell after a basketball game, how big the campus was, and how long it took to get from the photography room to the library. Three staircases and then across the whole school, for anyone curious. I timed it when I had to make that trek my sophomore year… twelve minutes.”

People laughed at your commentary. It eased your nerves a bit.

“It’s weird, right? I can almost guarantee I’m not the only person who’s walked that route, but I can’t name a single person who I know personally that has. You can be surrounded by so many people, yet your world can be so small.

“At the same time, though, it’s not that weird. Because even if we didn’t know each other, we were all a part of each other’s stories. Shout out to the boy in my freshman Bio class who gave me notes when I was out sick for a week, because otherwise, I’m sure I would’ve failed that exam. And, you know what? I still don’t know his name. So, wherever you are, I hope God blesses your whole bloodline.”

More people laughed this time. You straightened up, looking out into the crowd.

“Maybe you were someone’s Bio notes person. Maybe you were someone’s hallway crush. Maybe you were that familiar name that made someone join a club or try out for a sports team.

“And I think that’s what I’m going to remember and miss most about this high school. I never felt lonely. There was always someone, even if I didn’t know them, willing to lend me a helping hand if I needed it.

“If there’s one thing high school, namely at Northpointe, has taught me, it’s that you don’t need something big or crazy to happen to you for you to remember your high school experience. Sometimes, it’s those mornings where your best friend brings you a coffee before first bell just because they were thinking about you that makes your day that much better.

“One thing I’m leaving this school with is that helping run the newspaper changed my view on a lot of things. I think people should talk to each other more. Go be someone’s Bio notes or morning coffee person. Not talking to each other is ruining us, whether you’re best friends or strangers. Always extend kindness.

“Creating community might be closer to the answer to our problems than we may think. Thank you so much. Congratulations, everyone!”

Students, parents, and families clapped as you finished your speech. Principal Murphy stood up and shook your hand. Under her breath, she murmured, “Great job, Y/N. You’re going to do amazing things.”

You smiled at her as you walked back off the stage and to your seat. When you peeked at Riki, he looked like he had finally found the final, missing piece to his puzzle. He looked as if he were deciphering you and your speech. He didn’t even budge at your small smile.

———

Just as it had started, the ceremony was over. You needed water. You needed to find your family. But mostly, you needed to find Riki.

After you retrieved your cap, you glanced back at seat six of row two. He wasn’t there. He had already left the building. Your mind raced with thoughts. Maybe he was going to meet his family. Maybe he didn’t want to speak to you at all. You felt tears brim in your eyes.

Eunchae approached you from behind as you were excusing your way through the crowd to the exit. “Y/N!”

You were startled to see her. “Hey.”

“Are you okay?” she immediately asked, seeing your eyes. “What happened?”

You tried dabbing the tears away with your gown sleeve. “I feel, like, so nervous that I could throw up.”

She ushered you out into the open air. Once you found a secluded spot, she cornered you. “Is this about Riki?”

You felt your heart stop. “He didn’t find me earlier if that’s what you’re asking—”

“No,” she replied, firmly. “Is this about you being in love with Riki?”

You widened your eyes. So she did know after all. Was the night in his basement too obvious? Or had it been the Twister night? Had Yushi said something to her?

You swallowed.

“Y/N,” she said. “It’s okay. I think it’s kind of public information now.”

“Does he know?” Your voice quivered.

She shook her head. “I don’t know. I feel like everyone knows except him.”

You gripped harder on the diploma in your hand. “How long have you known?”

She laughed. “I figured you at least had a crush on him when you couldn’t figure out a real reason that you didn’t like Yushi.”

You scratched your neck. “Fuck.”

“It was obvious by the middle of April. You guys are always disappearing somewhere together, I’m surprised you haven’t made out or something.”

Your eyes widened again. “He doesn’t like me.”

“Are you—”

Before Eunchae could continue, Jungwon cut in, jogging over from somewhere else in the crowd. “Y/N, Riki is looking for you. Go find him. Now.”

You wanted to throw up.

Eunchae hugged you. “I love you. Good luck, Y/N.”

The entire walk while you looked for Riki, you felt like your legs were made of jelly. Your knees were shaking, your breath heavy, and you nearly dropped your diploma from how sweaty your hands were. Even as the crowd started dying down, you couldn’t see him. You even peeked back to where you had left Eunchae and Jungwon — they were also missing.

Suddenly, you heard Riki call your name from the right.

You turned to look at him.

There he was, hair disheveled, cap in hand, and gown draped over his arm. You didn’t wait for him to walk to you. As difficult as it was, you walked to him yourself. You breathed an uneasy breath and swallowed.

You wanted to hug him. But you were almost frozen in time. It wasn’t until he spoke that you got the courage to laugh:

“It’s you.”

It was an awkward laugh, but a small one. You shook your head in confusion with a scared yet fond smile. “What’s me?”

“You were Cupid.” Riki ran a hand through his hair. “It was you the whole time.”

You let out a weak laugh and nodded. “Yeah.”

“You read my letter.” His hands were shaking. “You were talking to me.”

“I didn’t think it was true,” you responded, shifting your weight onto another foot. “I thought you never would’ve written me.”

“I was desperate,” he said. “I— I dunno, I didn’t know what to do if you dated Yushi. I like him. He’s great. But I don’t think I could’ve lived that down.”

You smiled at him, taking a deep breath to ease your nerves. You cleared your throat. “Did you read my response?”

“I read it,” he murmured. His eyes dropped to your lips, then back up to meet your gaze. Your knees nearly gave out. “Cupid said I should just talk to her. That she might be closer to the answer to my problem than I may think.”

You laughed, happy tears in your eyes. “Was Cupid right?”

He nodded with a bitter laugh. “Unfortunately, Cupid seemed to know what she was talking about. I’m— I’m so sorry I was talking mad shit for that long. You really did an amazing job with your column, Y/N.”

“Thank you,” you responded, looking at the ground for a second. When you looked back up, it seemed like Nishimura Riki wanted to take the next step. “I committed to Berkeley. I— I mean, you already know that. But, it was for you.”

He grabbed your empty hand. He didn’t even seem to mind how sweaty it was. “I’m very lucky. I can’t imagine not spending the next eighteen additional years with you.”

Before you could respond, Riki bent down and cupped your face, pushing his lips against yours in a very messy manner. It wasn’t perfect. It didn’t need to be — you were both each other’s firsts. Your hand grabbed his forearm closest to you. The kiss was passionate, emotional, and a little bit ugly. When Riki pulled away from you, he placed his forehead on yours.

“Hi.”

You laughed an ugly laugh, a tear falling from your cheek. “Hello.”

From your right, a series of “whoops” came from a crowd of your friends, who had potentially seen the whole thing unfold.

“That’s my boy!” Jungwon cheered.

You used your diploma to cover your face in embarrassment.

A moment later, your family and the Nishimuras approached. Your mother, who was talking with Riki’s mother, took note of your interlocked fingers. You tried to ignore her and brace for the conversation that would be had later.

As they dragged you away for photos, you spoke to Riki again:

“So, it really took you until I almost dated Yushi for you to figure out you even liked me?”

He sighed, then laughed. “No, I… I had a huge crush on you in freshman and sophomore year. It was more so that I thought you weren’t interested in me.”

“Be serious.” You looked up at him with a glare. “You couldn’t tell I had a crush on you after we watched Little Miss Sunshine?”

“No,” he responded, swinging your hands. “But I wanted to kiss you real bad then, too.”

“Shut up.”

xxiii. MONTHS THAT FELT LIKE YEARS

August was blistering hot. You still had some time until you needed to be ready to go to Wonyoung’s house. You had your swimsuit, sunscreen, and sunglasses, but you thought you were missing something.

Ding-dong!

Riki rang your doorbell. You peeked your head out of your bedroom window at him:

“Be down in a sec!”

Towel. That’s what you needed.

You ran to the hallway closet to grab whatever beach towel you could find. You ran down the steps, everything in hand, and opened the door to your smiling boyfriend.

“Hello,” you greeted, stepping outside and shutting the door behind you. “Nice sunglasses, are those mine?”

Riki gave you a kiss. “You look beautiful. And yes, they are. You’re not getting them back.”

You shrugged, walking across the street with him to his driveway. “They probably look better on you anyway.”

He hopped in the Jeep, turned the key in the ignition, and started driving away to Wonyoung’s house.

He glanced at you from the side of his vision. “Why do you look so pretty today?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Stop flirting with me.”

“It’s a serious question!”

You grabbed his free hand and laced your fingers with his. “Are you trying to do something?”

“I’m not trying to do anything,” he justified. “I just think you look exceptionally good today.”

“Flatterer,” you replied, squeezing his hand and hiding the growing color in your cheeks.

When you arrived at Wonyoung’s house, the group was already loading her car’s trunk with coolers and beach chairs. Jungwon spotted you two before Riki could even park the car.

“Finally!” he said, walking to the passenger side door. He spoke through the open window, “We thought you two got lost making out in Riki’s driveway or something.”

“You need to die,” you said as you flipped him off.

Riki got out of the car, opened the trunk, grabbed all of your shared stuff, and still made it to the passenger door before you opened it yourself. He also made room to hold your hand without making you carry anything.

You whispered to him as you walked to Wonyoung’s car. “You know, you don’t have to hold my hand all the time.”

“You don’t like it?”

“I just… don’t want them to get grossed out by PDA,” you said, squeezing his hand.

“I waited years to be with you. Why would I care about what they think about our PDA?” Riki looked at you through the sunglasses that were perched on his nose.

You laughed back, reaching the car. “You waited two months. Let’s be serious for a second.”

Riki let go of your hand and shrugged. “Two months that felt like years.”

Your response was cut off by Wonyoung honking the horn.

“Come on, lovebirds, or we’re leaving without you!”

You both sheepishly hopped in the car, sitting next to each other. Only about five minutes into the drive, Riki fell asleep on your shoulder. And in that moment, you felt like everything had finally settled. And everyone else in that car still had no idea that you were Cupid that final year of school.

Some secrets could be taken to the grave, though.

a/n: and she's done!!! i hope everyone enjoyed reading this as i had a lot of fun writing it :) i actually am already drafting my next fic so maybe i'll post another long fic later this year!

general and series taglists: @asteriscoverde @feymine @ch4c0nnenh4 @rikiimuraaa @ori2ari @nikittiesluv @ikeupop @ainlvshs @jaeyunlovebot @cherrjaqke | @blooqz @ikijens @zoe1love @sunoominty @gg2029 @lotsafim @ddeonulen @rikislove @melancholatte @voucearse @fushigum1 @whoisthis-xxo @feiua @iiunique @tokyomxnstr @juknwoom @xeiramz @mildangzest @himiyagi @nishimur4s

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