This is my interpretation of Playful Kiss/It Started With a Kiss, American-version. Disclaimer: I do not own Playful Kiss or any version of it; only the names of these characters are mine. The places I mention both may or may not exist; Aihara Highschool for one, doesn't; it's the original last name of the original character from the creator and I just wanted to incorporate it somewhere. Enjoy!

I'm just going to hand it to him, I told myself, clutching the letter tightly between my fingers. Just hand it over and walk away.

I took a deep breath. I'd already spent weeks agonizing over the right words to put on this page, having written and rewritten them nearly a dozen times. Nothing I put down seemed to accurately encompass my feelings and I couldn't hand over a letter that fell mediocre and lame. No. It needed to be perfect. It was the difference between euphoria and a life spent wallowing in silent misery and regret.

I blew slowly out my mouth, eying the door of Aihara Highschool. The bell hadn't run yet and I hung back by the front entrance, waiting for some sign of William.

William Trenger.

It was expected to gloat over your crush; to find them good in everything they did; to dissect and recover seemingly obscure talents inside their utter failures and quirks.

This was not the case.

William Trenger had no failures; no quirks. In fact, he'd been dubbed the Prince of Aihara School for the past two years running. Will had the looks, the money, and above all, the brains. He took the head in every class and made even the most academic students appear inferior to him. The man was a genius, complete with an eidetic memory and I'm not even exaggerating. This of course made him the number one on every girl's list of romantic affection.

If crushes were a physical force rather than an emotional one, Will would've been a human pancake by this point. To my great joy, however, the passionate feelings weren't mutual.

But to my dismay, that included my own.

Luckily for me, I'd already accepted that. My expectations toed no further than graceful acknowledgement. It was a sad motive, if practically nonexistent, but I had the tendency to do things before weighing the pros and cons.

And this was a definite, huge, earthquaking con. I just didn't know that yet.

Minutes elapsed until I finally spotted him, which wasn't hard. His black hair stood out in the bright sun, in contrast with his Caucasian skin as if he hadn't seen the outside in awhile. No one walked beside him which was usual; it just further interested girls when they factored in his enigmatic and cold behavior. He was a walking puzzle many were desperate to solve.

I nearly backed out the closer he got; considered discarding this absurd idea to instead join the flock of girls who were content at gazing at him from the sidelines. But that view was in poor quality and I wanted HD.

Youre just handing it to him, Lu, I told myself. That's it. Handing.

I can do this. I can do this.

When Will was close enough, I stepped in front of him before he could pass, abruptly cutting him off.

There was an awkward moment of me blinking and trying to think until words were able to form. It took another moment for the thought-into-sound process to kick in.

"E-excuse me," I said in a really high voice, not meeting his gaze until that single sentence was out. This was the closest in proximity Id ever dared to trek and I didn't know how to act in this uncharted territory. Finally, I mustered up the courage to look him in the face, meeting deep pools of emerald green.

He halted and stared back, raising one elegant brow in question. That was the only indication my words had reached him.

"Excuse me," I said again and then felt stupid.

"You already said that," he deadpanned, further enunciating my regret. I didn't back down though and extended my letter. "Please read this," I told him, battling the desire to close my eyes. "I wrote it and would really appreciate your feedback."

Good. Make it sound like it's school-related.

I heard him sigh and watched as whatever glimmer of momentary interest faded from his features.

But he still took the letter.

I felt the breath in my chest stutter as his eyes dropped to the surface of it, his name scrawled somewhat poorly across the face of it. I mentally chastised myself for not rewriting that part as well.

For a second, I actually believed he'd read it. Or at least open it. But then he held it back out to me and my heart sank to my feet.

"I make it a habit not to expose myself to things high in ignorance. Wouldn't want that to spread."

I thought I opened my hand, because I felt him snuggle the letter back where it had been clenched all morning. My mind blanked. I wanted to say something but it was a deep cavern where thought should be, his words echoing back as if from a distance.

Then William Trenger turned on his heel and walked away.

I stood there like an idiot for some time, wondering how my greatest fears over this had suddenly become unreachably high-expectations. Life of misery it was, then.

"You did what?" Liz asked me during lunch, my head nearly bowed into the table. Liz was my oldest friend, dating back to our toy exchange in kindergarten. We were united under Barney's principle that sharing is caring so I couldn't go against that by not telling her what had transpired today.

I didnt enjoy the retelling, though.

"I tried to give him a letter expressing how I felt," I explained, before letting my forehead fall to the tabletop. I numbly noted the impact.

"And he called you ignorant?"

"It was implied."

Liz hissed something under her breath and I didn't have to look to know she was putting her blonde hair into a bun. She did that whenever she had something to deal with.

"What a jerk," she said.

I shrugged as best I could in my current position. "He didn't say it rudely," I murmured, tone unconvincingly. As if that helped.

"Maybe he's studied for so long that he's forgotten the basics of human communication."

"Is that even possible?"

"We'd need another person with the same IQ to compare him with...have you ever even met someone as smart as him?" She asked.

I sighed. "I thought Einstein was supposed to be nice."

She scoffed. "He knew communication but forgot hair care. See? There's always something."

"Ugh," I stretched out my hands in front of me, nearly knocking over my juice in the process. I reprimanded myself for the umpteenth time, both mentally and verbally. "Why did I do that?"

"Because you didn't think it through?" She offered.

I nodded. "Definitely. Oh well. I can't change it. At least he didn't read it and THEN say what he did. I can at least feel grateful for that."

"There you go!" Liz beamed, taking down her hair now that the hard contemplation had passed. "You're already back to your annoyingly optimistic self."

I lifted my head and glared at her. "You call that optimism? That?"

She pursed her lips. "After what he said, your gratefulness is borderline pooh-bear cheer."

I ground my teeth and groaned again. "Unless that bear had just been rejected and then insulted by honey, it doesn't qualify to be used in that expression."

"What about Barney then? He got fired after he cussed out a kid that stepped on his foot. This ruined your day but that ruined childhoods."

My jaw dropped. "And mine now, too, because I never knew about that. Thanks."

She made an "oops" expression and glanced away awkwardly. But then she swiveled back and her blue eyes lit up. "Well then see it this way; now you can let William Trenger go. Say Sianora to that self-involved, egotistical intellect and hello to...someone human."

Her words sparked an idea and I felt myself smiling. "Maybe he's an alien," I mused, raising my gaze to the ceiling. "I mean: ahead of his own age's intelligence, good at practically everything he does, beyond attractive, yet lacking emotional capacity...It's a compelling theory."

Liz snapped her fingers in front of my face, making me blink.

"Firstly, we are in Cheyenne, Wyoming, not Roswell, New Mexico," she said. "Secondly, unless LL Global is actually an alien base rather than his father's company, you have no basis. Of course, you could always go dig up some green rocks and see if Will suffers any adverse reactions to them. If so, then I'll be on board."

I shook my head and bit my lip, playing with the lid on my juice bottle.

"Do you still have the letter?" Liz asked. I nodded.

"Can I read it?"

"No." The thought petrified me.

"Please?" She asked, blinking ridiculously fast.

I narrowed my eyes. "No."

"Sharing is caring," she manipulated, giving me a knowing look.

"Until someone's child steps on your toes." I shot back. As if it could physically suppress her curiosity, I shoved the letter deeper into my coat pocket, ignoring her glare.

"Dad, I'm home!" I shouted as I came through the front door, tossing down my bag and heading for my room. There, I pulled out the letter of doom and shoved it in my desk drawer.

"Lu," I heard dad call and I returned downstairs. He motioned to a box nearby. "Help me with that, will you?" I nodded, hefting up the box of pillows before following him after.

I didn't look like my dad; where he had once-blonde hair, I had brown. Where he had the striking light eyes, I had brown. You could tell he was a guy that was capable of a good build. And again, unlike him, I wasn't.

I apparently took after my mother, who was not here for me to thank. He'd long ago adapted to calling me Carol's shadow after my mother, which had a different story entirely.

Her name is what had prompted my name, Lewis. That and the fact that the relationship between my parents had been kindled by their shared obsession of C. S. Lewis and to top it off, my mom had been an English teacher. My namesake was inevitable and was a decision they'd made which I had to suffer the consequences of. But I rebelled against it in the smallest way, by deviating from Lewis and going by Lu.

It's a family secret that few knew of.

I kept the box steady until I reached the first step that led out of the apartment. My heel caught on the second one and I would've fallen, had my hands not caught me. Unfortunately, the box wasn't as lucky and toppled down the flight. I froze, squeezing my eyes shut until the sound of its descent stopped.

This was another thing I inherited from my mom; my uncanny ability to trip on any surface, smooth or not.

"Please tell me you didn't have anything breakable in there," I asked my dad.

He smiled up at me as he loaded his own box in the back of the van. "I had you carry the pillows."

I raised my eyebrows, slightly offended. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want you to think I didn't trust you."

Well, I couldn't exactly blame him. I darted down the stairs and picked up the package once more, shoving it next to its cardboard brethren.

"Congratulations, Lewis!" Dad exclaimed. He was the only one who used my full title but it was what he did; it was his dad thing. "You have officially loaded the last box."

"We're done?"

He twirled the keys on his finger, a smile spreading across his face. The blues of his eyes shimmered with pride. "Time to shove off. So go grab your bag because tonight, we spend our first evening in A 'La Casa Moor."

My letter. I suddenly recalled it and twisted around. I ran back up the iron flight, banging my knee once before flinging the door open. Still on the floor, I scooped up my bag and then went to the desk I was leaving behind and took out the letter. A part of me wanted to tear the awful thing away, maybe even burn it like they did in the movies. It had no purpose except serving a constant bad reminder about a day I really wanted to shove in a much larger drawer.

I weighed the letter, debating. The trash can was still here, as we wouldn't be taking that with us and I walked to it, allowing the envelope bearing the name William to dangle above its mouth. It was so tempting. I just had to let go.

"Lewis!" Dad called, jarring me out of my thoughts.

"Coming!" I shouted.

But when I walked back out to meet my dad, I hadn't thrown the letter away; I'd just pushed it deep into the recess of my bag.