Chapter 5
Karina Yu wasn’t one to back down, and she certainly wasn’t going to let Winter Kim’s stubbornness get the better of her. After the eventful week of her planned gestures, the stakes were higher than ever. Winter might not admit it, but there were cracks in her icy resolve. And Karina was determined to widen those cracks until the wall shattered completely.
On Monday morning, Karina arrived at school earlier than usual. Armed with two cups of steaming coffee and a bag of fresh pastries, she confidently made her way to Winter’s desk. The classroom was still relatively empty, save for a few students chatting in the corners. Winter, who had her head buried in a book, looked up when Karina placed the items on her desk.
“Good morning, Winter!” Karina said brightly. “Fuel for the start of your week.”
Winter raised an eyebrow, glancing between Karina and the offerings. “Did I ask for this?”
“Nope,” Karina replied, sliding into the seat beside her. “But I figured you’d need it. Mondays are the worst.”
“You’re making this harder than it has to be,” Winter muttered, though she took the coffee anyway. “And for the record, I’m perfectly capable of buying my own breakfast.”
“I’m sure you are,” Karina said, resting her chin on her palm. “But where’s the fun in that?”
Before Winter could respond, Giselle and Ryujin entered the room, spotting the scene immediately. They exchanged knowing looks and approached the desk.
“Wow, Karina,” Giselle said, feigning surprise. “You’re really setting the bar high for all of us plebs.”
Ryujin snorted. “Careful, Winter. Keep this up, and people will start thinking you’re dating.”
Winter glared at them. “Don’t you two have better things to do?”
“Not really,” Ryujin said, plopping down in the seat behind her. “This is way more entertaining.”
Karina grinned, clearly unfazed by the teasing. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Winter sighed and turned back to her book, muttering something about ‘persistent people.’ Despite her protests, she couldn’t help but notice the warmth of the coffee in her hands and the enticing aroma of the pastries. Karina had a knack for making it impossible to stay annoyed.
Later that afternoon, the school’s courtyard was buzzing with activity. Students milled about, enjoying the mild weather and catching up with friends. Winter was sitting on one of the benches, trying to finish an essay, when Karina appeared once again, this time with Ningning and Yeji in tow.
“Winter!” Karina called, jogging up to her with a wide smile. “We need your help.”
Winter glanced up, skeptical. “What kind of help?”
“It’s for the school festival,” Ningning explained, plopping down beside her. “We’re short on people for the committee.”
Winter frowned. “What does that have to do with me?”
“You’re smart, reliable, and you’re not already committed to another booth,” Yeji said matter-of-factly. “In other words, you’re perfect for the job.”
“Let me guess,” Winter said, setting her notebook aside. “This was Karina’s idea?”
“Guilty,” Karina said, raising her hand. “But think of it as an opportunity. We’ll get to spend more time together!”
Winter groaned. “I knew there was a catch.”
“Please?” Karina asked, clasping her hands together in an exaggerated plea. “I promise it’ll be fun. Plus, you’ll get free snacks.”
“Tempting,” Winter said dryly. “But no thanks.”
“Aw, come on,” Ningning said, nudging her playfully. “Don’t be such a buzzkill. We really do need the help.”
Winter hesitated, torn between her desire to avoid unnecessary interaction and the guilt creeping in from their earnest expressions. Finally, she sighed. “Fine. But only because I don’t want the festival to be a disaster.”
Karina beamed. “You won’t regret this, I promise!”
“I already do,” Winter muttered, though there was a faint smile on her lips.
Over the next few days, the festival preparations were in full swing. Winter found herself roped into various tasks, from designing posters to organizing schedules. Despite her initial reluctance, she had to admit that working with Karina wasn’t as unbearable as she’d expected. Karina was surprisingly efficient, and her enthusiasm was contagious.
During one particularly hectic afternoon, the group was setting up decorations in the gymnasium. Winter was on a ladder, hanging a banner, when Karina called up to her.
“Careful up there,” Karina said, her tone half-teasing, half-concerned. “I’d hate for you to fall and ruin that pretty face.”
Winter rolled her eyes. “I’m fine. You worry too much.”
“It’s my job,” Karina said with a wink.
“Is it, though?” Winter shot back, though she couldn’t stop the slight upward curve of her lips.
From the sidelines, Ryujin and Giselle watched the exchange with great interest.
“They’re practically flirting,” Giselle whispered.
“Finally,” Ryujin said. “I was starting to think Winter was immune to charm.”
“What are you two whispering about?” Winter called down, narrowing her eyes.
“Nothing,” they chorused, not-so-innocent smiles on their faces.
Winter shook her head, deciding it wasn’t worth the effort to interrogate them. Instead, she focused on finishing her task, all too aware of Karina’s gaze following her every move.
That evening, Karina decided to escalate her efforts. She invited the entire group—Winter, Giselle, Ryujin, Ningning, and Yeji—for an impromptu karaoke night. It was under the pretense of "bonding" for the festival committee, but everyone saw through the act.
The small, private room buzzed with energy as the group passed the microphone back and forth. Karina sang with confidence, her voice commanding attention, while Winter sat on the sidelines, nursing a soda.
“Come on, Winter,” Karina said, holding out the microphone. “Your turn!”
“I don’t sing,” Winter replied flatly.
“Everyone sings,” Karina insisted, kneeling in front of her. “Even if it’s terrible. It’s about having fun.”
“I’ll pass.”
Karina pouted, her big eyes filled with mock sadness. “Please? Just one song?”
Winter groaned. “You’re relentless.”
“It’s part of my charm,” Karina said with a grin.
Giselle nudged her. “Just do it, Winter. The sooner you sing, the sooner she’ll stop bugging you.”
“Fine,” Winter said, snatching the microphone. “But don’t blame me if your ears bleed.”
The group erupted into cheers as Winter reluctantly chose a song. Her voice was hesitant at first, but as the lyrics flowed, she found her rhythm. By the time she hit the chorus, even she had to admit she wasn’t half bad.
When the song ended, Karina clapped enthusiastically. “See? You’re amazing!”
Winter handed the microphone back, her cheeks slightly pink. “Don’t get used to it.”
“Oh, I definitely will,” Karina teased, earning a laugh from the group.
That evening, as Winter walked home, she found herself reflecting on the past week. Karina’s relentless pursuit was exhausting, but it was also strangely endearing. Despite her protests, Winter couldn’t deny that Karina’s efforts had begun to chip away at her defenses.
“What am I even doing?” Winter muttered, shaking her head. She didn’t have an answer, but one thing was clear: Karina Yu was impossible to ignore.