relaxed hands grip a phone too loose, and in another life she worries about dropping it, but in this one she uploads a picture onto instagram, reads the eleven best uses for a bobby-pin, sends eunha a text about the temptation of skipping out on detention.
an empty attention span guides her to her detention room, and she steps inside before tucking her phone away.
she looks up, fully expecting to be chastised for showing up fifteen minutes late for two hours of thinking about her poor choices, or whatever it was her professor had said that morning, and frowns when that isn’t the case.
instead, a boy sits at a desk, staring at her with wide eyes, and seunghee realizes she’s the lost one, not her professor, “hey do you know where room 305 is?” she asks, and shifts on her feet.
ten seconds pass. fifteen. twenty. still, no answer.
seunghee squints, “are you, like, mute or something? that’s cool, can you just write down the directions?” she even starts signing as she speaks, waiting for some sort of reaction aside from a general state of discomfort. “or, are you just super uncomfortable?”