When she showed him the paper, he stared at it for a long time. “72,” he said flatly. “A statistical anomaly.”

Oh Ha-ni finally had her answer. And it was perfect.

“Oh Ha-ni,” he said, not even looking up from his textbook. “Your IQ is probably the same as the room temperature. Focus on passing your exams. Not on me.”

She walked home in the rain, not feeling a thing. She left a note on the Baek family’s doorstep: “Thank you for everything. I won’t be a bother anymore. - Ha-ni.”

When they finally broke apart, foreheads pressed together, Ha-ni laughed. “So… are we a couple now?”

The first night, Ha-ni tiptoed down the pristine Baek hallway to get a glass of water. She wore her retainer and a t-shirt that read ‘Genius in Training.’ She bumped into a solid, warm wall. It was Seung-jo, fresh from a shower, his hair damp and smelling of cedar.

He grabbed her shoulders, his fingers digging in. “Do you think I care about level? I care about function . You function in my life the way oxygen functions in a combustion reaction. Without you, I just… suffocate.”