One || The Transfer
‘There’s a cute transfer in my class. He’s shy, he’s got freckles, and I-’
‘Y/N, stop. What makes you think he’ll ever notice you?’
The first time I ever faced a language barrier, I was little more than say, six years old. New neighbors moved in; a simple, nuclear family just like mine. The two boys were about my age, so naturally, when my mum took my over to welcome the family to the area, it was those two I stayed with.
We said hello, said our names, but I can’t quite remember what their’s were. Then suddenly, they were speaking in a different language.
Now, I had only ever heard English. I wasn’t used to anything else; so what I did next, although terribly rude of me, wasn’t something I meant in a harsh way.
I had gone over to my mum and asked, ‘Mummy, why are they speaking weirdly?’
I don’t remember quite so much after that. Whether I got reprimanded for being rude, or she got a giggle out of me being so naïve, it’s past me’s business now.
But not long after that, my brother went to highschool and we moved to be closer to his new school. I never really saw the family again, after that first meeting.
Now I’m the one in highschool, and my brother has gone off to college. And it was just another one of those repetitive days, when the blaring chatter of my form room was interrupted by our head of year walking in with her probably trademarked or something scary smile.
“Nine S! Be quiet!” She yapped. Her voice was high enough to call it that. She’s almost as short as the students, and at first I found it funny to say she was secretly a human chihuahua.
Until she heard me, that is.
Scanning a glare across the now very near silent room, she turned to our teacher, Miss Ashworth.
Miss Ashworth was one of the nicest teachers. As well as generally allowing our form class to do what they like in the mornings, whenever she punished us, she didn’t yell. She got disappointed, and that hit us a hell lot harder than some angry words and a headache to go away with. Good on you, Miss Ashworth!
“Ella, I’ve got a new student for your form here. His name is... Park Jimin, and he doesn’t speak much English.” She glared back at the class, for apparently no reason at all, as Miss Ashworth got up from her seat to come and usher the new student into the room.
Then we were all happily settled, our head of year, Mrs Armstrong (I thought it was about time I mentioned her name) left us alone, to our relief. But before we could break out into chatter again, Miss Ashworth hushed us and walked to the front of the room with the new kid.
“Now everyone, this is Jimin! Seeing as he’s Korean, when it’s written down, his last name comes first. That’s why Mrs Armstrong said his name was Park Jimin.”
Jimin smiled, bowing slightly to the class- taking us all aback, because no one really did that anymore in England.
“H-Hello! I am Jimin. Nice to meet you!” He spoke, in broken English. The accent he still clearly had turned the ‘you’ into an adorable ‘chu’.
“Hello Jimin!” The class chimed. Miss Ashworth smiled at us all, stood beside Jimin. For a moment, I wondered whether she would seat him by me. I usually sat alone in form time; I’m sure she’d have the heart to realize and give him the seat near me-
“Miss, Miss!” Jennifer, one of the do-goody students called, waving her hand in the air like someone doing aircraft marshalling. “Can Jimin sit with me and Hannah?” She asked eagerly, and then my chance was gone, because Miss Ashworth nodded and sent Jimin over to a table on the complete opposite side of the room to me.
Oh well, there’s always next time.
As Jimin walked over to Jennifer and Hannah, looking slightly uncertain, I returned to my book. In a near instant I was immersed, yet still I was again pulled out of the fantasy world I was reading about when Miss Ashworth spoke again.
“Emily, Jimin is in the majority of your classes.” She said quietly, although it’s not like anyone would have heard anyway, they were all to happy being occupied in chatting again.
I looked up to show I was listening to her.
“Could you take him around with you today and make sure he’s okay?” She asked, smiling.
I returned the expression and nodded. It may have just been the light, but I swore her eyes shone just a little.
“Great! Thank you. I’ll go tell him now.”
As she walked over to Jimin, Jennifer and Hannah- the latter were bombarding him with questions in English, making me frown with their inconsideration for the boy sat beside them, looking as fearful as someone who was just pushed right to the edge of a cliff and forced to look down- I partly regretted saying yes. How would we talk? I knew no Korean, none at all, and Jimin only knew basic English. See, that’s the downside to Miss Ashworth’s smile. You think about making her happy before fulfilling your own opinion.
Oh well. I went back to my book. I did want a next time, didn’t I?
“Jimin?” I said, getting his attention. Miss Ashworth had managed to convince the girls to leave the transfer with me, and now we were the only ones left in the form room. We hadn’t left with everyone else so we didn’t get separated. He looked over and smiled. I smiled back.
“IT first, okay?”
“I-T?” He asked, a gap in between the letters when he said them.
“Oh, um... computer class.” I corrected myself, letting out a small sigh of relief when he smiled and nodded.
Together, we left the room and walked down the hallway. Our class was in another building of classes, and potentially could have taken five minutes to get to. But oh well.
I say that a lot, don’t I?
We had only been walking for a few minutes; until Jimin suddenly grabbed my hand. It took me aback and my cheeks heated up, but I turned to him all the same.
“Too... fast..” He said, looking at me with a nervous look in his eyes and the same pink tint in his cheeks as I.
“O-Oh, sorry.” I said, smiling apologetically, then continuing to walk, staying at a normal and considerate speed for him.
Neither of us let go of the other’s hand.
Oh well.
