Chapter 9
Only then did Sian finally pick up the untouched sandwich.
Just as things were starting to quiet down, she suddenly asked a question.
“But… do you think maybe my brother has an eating disorder or something? He’s not sick, is he?”
“I’m not some all-knowing oracle, you know.”
Aaron grumbled but still answered sincerely.
“As far as I know, Ian doesn’t have any illnesses. He’s probably just super busy with AP classes.”
To get into top-tier universities—the kind whose names everyone recognizes—taking AP courses was almost a must.
The downside? You had to basically fry your brain doing college-level coursework.
Even so, Sian couldn’t fully believe that Ian was simply busy with classes.
She had seen him lounging in the club room during lunch with her own eyes.
“I can’t help but worry. Last time I went, he wasn’t even in the club room.”
She had planned to wait until she was properly prepared for their second meeting—but never mind that.
After a brief inner struggle, Sian made up her mind and began scarfing down her sandwich.
She ate so fast it startled Aaron.
“You in a rush or something?”
“I’m gonna go check on my brother.”
“Again?”
“He needs to eat too. How else is he going to have the energy to study?”
And on top of that, Ian played football—a high-energy sport.
Skipping meals on such a schedule was absolutely unacceptable.
“I’m heading out. See you back in class!”
With cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk, Sian jumped to her feet.
Left alone, Aaron shook his head.
“Must be nice to love your brother that much—even if he doesn’t recognize you.”
Now that the noisy distraction was gone, it was time to enjoy some peace and quiet.
Aaron picked up the book he had put down during their conversation.
But somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to open it. He gave up and set it back down.
Sian bought a chocolate bar from the vending machine and headed to the club room.
This time, she didn’t run into Blay Williams, but unfortunately, she didn’t find Ian either.
“Maybe he’s in the library?”
Thanks to frequent hangouts with Aaron, Sian had grown fairly familiar with the school library.
As she changed direction and approached the library, she suddenly covered her mouth.
She had almost let out a shout.
“There you are!”
Ian was leaning against the sofa in the library lounge, resting.
It was a relief to see he wasn’t overworking himself as Aaron had speculated.
But then again…
“Don’t tell me he’s hiding here to avoid me…”
Was he holed up here just in case she showed up again—with Aaron?
If so, that stung.
Still, she couldn’t let him go hungry. She’d just give him lunch and leave.
Sian tiptoed toward him as quietly as possible.
But Ian, eyes closed, reacted sharply.
“……”
“……”
Their eyes met, and Ian’s face instantly twisted into a scowl.
“Does he really hate me that much?”
Bitterness welled up in her chest, but Sian fought to stay composed.
[I won’t go to the club room anymore.]
She said in Korean.
Again, Ian gave no response.
Did he forget all his Korean already?
His silence felt like needles pricking at her skin—sharp and uncomfortable.
“He wasn’t like this when we were younger.”
Sian fidgeted with her fingers, then finally switched to English.
“I won’t go to the club room anymore. So please stop avoiding me.”
Still, no response.
Sighing deeply, Sian placed the chocolate bar beside Ian’s seat.
“Please make sure to eat lunch.”
Ian found the whole situation almost laughable.
A girl he had no connection to was acting like his real little sister.
“Well… I’ll be going then.”
Sian mumbled like a puppy waiting for approval, then turned to leave—until Ian finally spoke.
“You acting like my sister doesn’t actually make you my sister.”
What did I just hear?
Sian gaped at him, momentarily stunned, before snapping back to her senses.
“Why are you suddenly so dumb? You used to be smart, you know?”
Sure, she’d changed a lot after recovering her health, but still—
How could he not recognize his own sister with the same exact name?
“And I’m not pretending to be your sister—I really am your sister.”
Sian bit back the rest of what she wanted to say.
There must be some reason behind all this.
At least he didn’t tear up the chocolate bar like he had their photo last time. That was something.
“I’m going. Don’t skip meals. Eat the chocolate bar.”
She had a lot more to say, but she turned away.
Ian didn’t stop her.
He only watched her retreating back, eyes shadowed with deep, troubled thoughts.
After school.
The newly selected cheerleaders gathered in the gym with the existing team.
It was a meet-and-greet and a basic skills check.
Sian was filled with hope about making new girl friends—when she spotted a familiar face.
It was Janice, the girl who’d been excluded from tryouts due to suspected anorexia.
Others had noticed her too, glancing at her and whispering to each other.
“So Janice did make the team?”
Sian felt a bit relieved. She moved to stand next to her.
“Hi, I’m Sienna. We met last week, remember?”
Janice looked briefly at Sian, then returned her gaze straight ahead.
It was rude, sure, but Sian wasn’t fazed.
After being ignored by both Ian and Aaron so often, she’d developed a sort of immunity.
“I’m glad there’s someone I know here. Everyone else seems so close already. I felt like I’d be intruding.”
Janice looked like she was about to respond.
But then—Victoria’s voice rang out from outside the gym, loud and clear.
“Janice is a hard no! I will never do cheerleading with her!”
Everyone inside turned to stare at Janice.
Her face turned bright red and lowered in shame.
Outside, the argument continued.
“Victoria. The cheer squad represents the whole school—it’s not your personal property. Being captain doesn’t give you that power.”
That was the coach’s voice.
From their conversation, it seemed the coach had accepted Janice onto the team.
On the other hand, Victoria had been dead set against her, even going so far as to ‘lose’ her application.
Conflict between them was inevitable.
“But I’m the one who has to perform with those amateurs, not you!”
A bold statement—especially from a student speaking to a coach.
Sian looked around. Oddly, no one else seemed surprised.
“Coach’ll probably get replaced soon.”
“Too bad. I actually liked this coach.”
The students were clearly used to this sort of power dynamic.
It was then that Sian truly realized—this was Wharton School.
Most students here were from elite, upper-class American families—the next generation of movers and shakers.
To them, a cheer coach wasn’t a teacher. Just a cog in the machine.
A disposable bolt in a giant clockwork. Replaceable at will.
“Surely they won’t actually fire the coach… right?”
Sian tried to stay calm.
But when she saw Janice’s terrified face, she began to lose faith.
The gym doors opened, and Victoria and the coach entered side by side.
The coach, sensing the awkward atmosphere, frowned.
She clearly knew everyone had overheard the argument.
“I was delayed discussing something with your captain. Let’s get started. First, introductions.”
The coach introduced herself and Victoria, then began handing out new uniforms to the newcomers.
Both Sian and Janice received theirs.
Victoria’s disapproving gaze followed them, but she couldn’t stop them—not without a good excuse.
“Everyone got a uniform?”
As the coach checked, someone raised a hand and asked:
“Is Janice really on the team?”
The coach looked to Victoria.
With a face full of reluctant acceptance, Victoria nodded.
“She’ll practice with us. But no promises about performing.”
So Janice’s name was technically on the roster—but Victoria could later claim she wasn’t stage-ready.
The coach didn’t dispute it.
All in all, it seemed they had reached a compromise.
“Any other questions? No?”
With that, the coach stepped back, and Victoria took center stage.
She demonstrated a new choreography she’d put together over summer break.
Even Sian, a beginner, could tell the routine was difficult.
Now it was clear why Victoria had confidently said “practice and performance are two different things.”
“Wow… I don’t think I can learn that even by graduation.”
Sian whispered in awe, but quickly shut her mouth when she saw Janice curling into herself.
“You all know about the Homecoming game, right? We’ll perform the new routine there.”
That announcement triggered immediate complaints.
The game was less than a month away.
Memorizing Victoria’s routine would require sacrificing all their after-school hours.
“If you think you can’t handle it, leave now. No one’s forcing you.”
And just like that, the noisy muttering vanished.
People might grumble about Victoria’s leadership, but not enough to give up the prestige of being a cheerleader.
No one left.
Victoria, unsurprised, smirked and tilted her chin up.
“What are you all waiting for? Start practicing.”
