Untouchable

He first saw her sitting on the other side of the diner, a few friends with her in the red polyester booth. They were talking and chatting, much like he and his group of friends were doing at that precise moment. His hand was wrapped around the glass of coke in front of him, the metal ring on his finger clink, clinking as he made a steady beat with his fingers. Why had he never noticed her before? She looked familiar in a way a note from a long lost song sounded familiar to the ears before the name of the song conjured itself in your head.

"Hey, Byunghee. Who are you eyeing over there?" one of the teens in their group, Seungho, asked him. Seungho's black hair was slicked back, barely touching the collar of his black leather jacket as he scanned the booths of teens at the other end of the diner, trying to pick out who had taken Byunghee's attention so mercilessly. As Byunghee took a drink of his coke Seungho added, "It is a girl you're eyeing, right?"

His eyes slid over to Seungho's in a glare. "Of course it's a girl, idiot. Ain't it always?" he replied back, feigning annoyance at his friend's question. He was always eyeing girls, and usually they'd either eye him back, looking him up and down like a piece of meat, or shy away, their cheeks tinted. Some would eye him with contempt and proceed to ignore him, not wanting anything to do with him.

He understood those girls. They were the girls who knew better than to talk to him. He had a reputation for being the heartbreaker around town, and for being an overall badass. He was the boy your parents prayed you didn't bring home.

“Well?” Seungho voiced, rolling his fingers in a circle, coaxing him to elaborate. The other three at the table, quiet until then, chimed in with, “Yeah!” and “C’mon, man, don’t leave us hangin’!” and “Who is it?”

Byunghee sighed, his mouth closed in a straight line, his face etched into a mask devoid of emotion. The only emotion that showed was in his eyes as they sought her out, itching to see her in his line of vision again. It didn’t take long to spot the table her friends were at, but he didn’t see her there, only an empty space in the booth.

He frowned as his friends looked at him, waiting to hear who he was openly, but not quite, taken with this time. He was about to tell them that he lost sight of her when he saw her in the corner of his vision, coming back to her booth from the jukebox. “There,” he said lowly, loud enough so the four in the booth heard. “in the black polka-dotted dress.”

She moved with a purpose, as if she always knew where she was going, where she took her stride. She carried herself with confidence, something Byunghee hadn’t seen in a long time. She glanced over to his table before sitting down, and he thought he saw a trace of a smirk gracing her lips before she turned her attention back to her friends at the booth.

One of his friends, who wore a silver chain about his neck, wolf whistled. “I think you found a feisty one, Byunghee,” he commented.

“Yeah, she looks like a keeper,” another said, as he stole a swig of coke. “I think she’s in one of my classes.”

Byunghee’s eyes narrowed as he continued to stare at the girl. “Really?” he asked, secretly wondering if that’s where he had seen her before. That gnawing inside him about the girl looking familiar might be going away.

The younger one who had said he shared a class with her nodded. “I think it was history, or something. She knows her stuff, but gets into trouble more than I do.” Byunghee raised an eyebrow at him, prompting him to continue. “Well, she always gets into debates with the teacher about whatever we’re talking about, and ends up getting a pink slip or sent to the principal’s office for ‘acting out of line’ when she was just proving the teacher wrong. It’s really funny to watch too. The teacher gets all red in the face and-“

Byunghee waved him off. “I get it Mir, I get it.”

Mir gave him a look that said, don’t shush me before continuing to stir the straw in his now empty coke glass. He waved a waitress over to refill it for him, winking at her as she took the glass.

Byunghee ignored the exchange as he wondered aloud, “She always wants to prove someone wrong, hm?” His brow was furrowed as he was thinking, the others watching him. Well how about I try to counter that, he thought, as he devised a plan to talk to her, or get her to come over to their table. Anything to try to make her his.

She was different, to him. He’s had girls that talked back, but never like Mir described. He needed something different to play around with. Someone who actually had something interesting to say other than, “How’s my dress?” or “So-and-so said this about so-and-so.” Girls just wanted him like they wanted purses. He was something to have over their shoulders that others could talk about, since he would usually break the girl’s heart later by going out with another girl.

The plan in his head made a definite U-turn when she and her friends got up from their booth, putting down money for their waitresses tip. Shit, he thought. She’s getting away. Right before the panic set in she turned to her friends and said something, then walked in their direction. Oh, she’s going to the bathroom.

Indeed she was as she walked by their booth, glancing at the group of boys clad in leather jackets before continuing on to the bathroom with a large pink cutout of a woman on the door.

“Whoa,” one of the other boys said, a piece of hair hanging in his face.

Byunghee made a noise of agreement. “I’ll catch her on her way out.” He was sitting on the outer end of the booth, Seungho on the inner side, Byunghee facing the bathroom. The other three were scrunched together on the other end of the booth.

She came out of the bathroom moments later, tucking a piece of her black locks behind her ear. Byunghee wolf-whistled at her, and she glanced at him as she continued walking, her stride not faltering. “Hey, sweetie, c’mere for a second,” he greeted her, grabbing her wrist as she walked by to keep her from going any further.

She snatched his hand away. “Get your hands off of me.” She moved her arms to her side, away from him.

“Hey, hey, calm down. I just want to talk,” Byunghee said, trying to smooth over his brash action. “What’s your name, baby?”

“What’s it to you? I don’t even know who you are,” she replied, only looking at him.

Byunghee controlled the emotion on his face, acting casual. Most everyone knows who I am. How can she not? He thought, as he pointed at Mir. “He knows who you are. He’s in your history class, ain’t he?”

She took her eyes off of Byunghee to look at Mir, and a look of recognition crossed her face, before she gave out a short un-amused laugh. “Yeah, I know him. He’s the perverted one in the back of the class that thrusts his pelvis in his seat when the teacher’s back is turned. She caught him twice and wrote him up. It’s a wonder he ain’t expelled yet for indecency,” she drawled.

Mir smirked at this, but otherwise said nothing.

“What’s your point?” she continued. “Just because I know of him doesn’t mean I know you.”

“Well, then. Let me introduce myself. I’m Byunghee,” he smirked. “It’s nice to meet a fine baby such as yourself.” He paused, twirling the ring on his finger. “What’s your name, honey?”

Something seemed to register on her face when he spoke his name, and she replied curtly, “Chantal.”

He repeated her name, his voice velvety smooth as he said it. “Pretty name,” he replied. “I was wondering, Chantal, if you’d want to catch a flick with me tomorrow night down at the drive in?”

She looked at him briefly before replying, “No thanks, I don’t take offers from boys with so much grease in their hair that they could start a car with it.” She eyed their hair before turning on her heel, about to leave.

“That’s it?” he asked, his tone that of amusement and shock. “That’s all you’ve got to deny me with?”

She thought for a moment, and said, “Yeah, pretty much.” With that she turned and walked off, joining her friends waiting outside the diner for her.

Byunghee was slightly speechless. His charm usually worked on them, on any girl, but not on her. He looked at the middle of the table as the waitress came over with the check. He could see Seungho out of the corner of his eye biting his lip as he snickered, trying to keep the laughter from boiling over at his friend’s rejection. The others had amused smirks on their faces.

He dug in his pocket, taking out the money needed and slamming it on the check before getting up. “You say anything and I’ll wail on you,” he threatened, giving his friends a brief glare before walking out of the diner.