The more I thought about it, the less sense it made. Honestly, it really could be because I was thinking too much, but there was something about it all that was strange. I was having issues putting my finger on just what it was, and I decided I needed a second opinion. Someone I could trust with this information, and was also good at picking out the little details that help explain the bigger picture.

"Soo Young, I have a problem," I said from her bed. 

I was laying on my back, my head hanging over the side. I had come home late today because I had zoned out while doing my homework. My mind had wondered to Xiumin and the oddness of last Friday and the oddness of his behavior in general and the oddness of what was and was not okay to talk about. It wasn't like we were close, so I shouldn't be spending so much time thinking about him, worrying about him, but I just couldn't help myself.

And, of course, I couldn't help but stress over what I may or may not be feeling for him.

I was distracted all through out dinner that night. I tried acting like nothing was going on, because there really wasn't anything going on, at least not for me. If something was happening with  Xiumin, that was his problem until he decided to share it with me. Until then, I really just needed to mind my own business.

Unfortunately, that was something I was having a problem with, and why I had wondered into Soo Young's room to seek her council, as per usual when I'm confused about what to think or do. Honestly, if she ever decided to start charging me, she'd make a fortune. I loved having a second opinion, even if I don't need it. Maybe that was a little codependent. I should probably ask Soo Young about that too.

"What's wrong?" she asked, turning from her book at her desk to face me in her swivel chair.

"Well," I said hesitantly, not knowing where to start, and suddenly not at all sure if I even wanted to open this can of worms. "You know how Xiumin's been back, right?"

"You like him again," she said immediately, catching me off guard. While that was an issue, me not knowing whether or not I liked him again, my brain had been more preoccupied with worrying about him in general. My own feelings seemed kind of like a small issue in comparison.

Was that a sign that I did like him again? That I had placed his own problems above my own without a second thought? Especially when I didn't even know what his were? Or that he really even had any?

I  heaved a sigh as I sat up and turned to face her, now weighed down by even more things to worry about.

"I don't know," I answered honestly.

She didn't say anything to that, seemingly surprised by my answer. It was understandable, they were all convinced that I had definitely fallen for him again. I mean, I had such a big crush on him in high school, and I never ended up confessing to him since I lost my confidence a few days after my feelings had started blooming; I had no closure. And then he pops up again out of no where and suddenly we’re friends and I'm closer to him than I had thought I ever would be, than anyone would have thought I ever would be. It'd make sense for me to fall for him again. But just because it was expected didn't mean it'd actually happen. I still wasn't sure if it had or not. Had my feelings actually changed, or have I just expected them to?

I noticed Soo Young was watching me, waiting for me to explain myself. I tried to gather my thoughts and organize them so I could explain everything in a logical and cohesive manner, but it was hard. I couldn't tell what was important and what wasn't, but then that was exactly why I was here.

I started speaking while I was staring down at her bed spread. It had patterns of leaves on it. They were red. 

"We've been hanging out a lot, just the two of us.” Which was true. We’d started getting coffee together in the morning, and then it's usually just us in the library when he makes it. We had also ended up going to lunch together last Sunday. Just the two of us. “So it feels like we're dating, but I'm not sure. He's never really said specifically, and I've never asked. The way he acts makes it feel like a date, too. He's always considerate and friendly. But then again, he's never said specifically and I don't want to assume."

I realized as I said it that it was all true, despite how secretive he can be sometimes. More than true, really. If it had been another guy behaving like Xiumin does, I probably would have already assumed he liked me. But it's Xiumin, the same Xiumin whom I had a crush on for three years but who never seemed to notice me. I mean, he was harder now, less open, and I wasn't exactly the same as I used to be, either. Still, It was just hard to wrap my head around. 

"The thing is, I do like hanging out with him, but I'm not sure if I actually like him like that. Part of me thinks I do, and part of me thinks it's because I liked him in high school. Like he's the one that got away, and I just like him for that reason. But then you throw in that he may like me and it's even worse. I don't know if I'm perceiving his actions as him liking me because that's how I want to see them, or if that's actually the case. And how should I act if he really does like me?” If by some crazy miracle he likes me and his friendliness towards me isn't just friendliness, but him trying to start something romantic with me? “Since I don't even know how I feel, I don't know whether I should encourage or discourage him."

Frustrated with everything, I grabbed one of Soo Young’s pillows and buried my face in it. This wasn't how I had wanted this conversation to go. We were supposed be discussing his problems, not mine, because there was definitely something going on with him and I wanted to get to the bottom of it. Because, whatever it was, it seemed more important than my own problems with what my feelings for him are. In fact, whatever my feelings may wind up being, I'm not going to act as anything more than a friend until I'm sure that I won't be a burden to him.

Because if I liked him, I think I'd have the confidence to actual go after him this time.

We sat without saying a word for a little while, before Soo Young finally decided to ask:

"So what's he like now?"

I raised my head from her pillow and looked at her questioningly, frowning at her change of subject.

"I just want to know. I don't really feel qualified to encourage you one way or another on this if I don't even really know him."

I pulled the pillow up, hugging it to my chest as I rested my chin on the top edge. I sat thoughtfully for a moment, trying to figure out how to properly describe him.

How do I begin to explain Kim Xiumin? Kim Xiumin is flawless. I hear his hair is insured for ₩10,000,000. I hear he does car commercials… in Japan.

Nah, probably not.

"He's..." I began, having issues finding the right words. "He's pretty similar to how he used to be. He's matured in a lot of the ways most people do after they start college but..." here I dropped off again. I wasn't sure how to properly convey to her the difference. Trying to explain the soft-to-hard thing probably wouldn't go over very well since I'm sure it wouldn't make much sense. Plus describing him as hard could get weird. Instead I tried thinking of the smaller things that had changed as a result. The effect from the causation. There were a couple of words that came to mind, but just one that really summed everything up. "He just seems... sadder now.

“I don't really know how to explain it better since it's not something I completely understand, either," I continued. "I can just tell. It's something in his eyes and the way he interacts with everything. Even when he doesn't, there's a difference. It's almost like something heavy is weighing on him, but I just don't know what it is."

And that was really at the heart of all of this. When I'd mention something he didn't want to talk about, he didn't get angry, just sad. There was something lonely about him. Like there was this weight on his shoulder that he was trying to carry alone, but instead of complaining or taking his feelings about it out on others, he had just resigned himself to it. 

"And I guess you don't know what's made him like that?" she asked.

I shook my heard, sighing again.

"I'm pretty sure it has something to do with why he came back," I said. "When I asked him about that, he said he just wanted to come home because he missed his family. I didn't really buy it, but I asked that the first time we went out for coffee together, so I didn't really think it was my place to pry."

"Have you tried talking to him about it recently? You said you guys have been spending a lot of time together, so you've gotten closer, right?"

"Sort of. We never talk about anything serious, though. He doesn't confide in me."

"Have you confided in him?"

I looked up at her surprised.

"That's a weirdly valid point coming from you."

"Hey, I understand people better than you think. It's just interacting with them that I'm bad at."

"I think it's more that you're just out of practice," I responded. "Anyways, you are right. I haven't confided in him at all. I just feel bad doing it because I can already tell he has his own problems and I don't want to put anything on him. Not that I really have much to complain about," I added quickly, realizing how that had sounded. "Really just the usual college issues; stress and stuff. On that side, though, I feel like complaining about that stuff to him would make him less likely to open up since they're such small things."

I really don't want to be that annoying person who complains all the time to anyone, not just someone who may be going through a rough time. I don't want people to think I'm whiny or a burden. It's one of the main reasons I usually come to Soo Young for everything; I know without a doubt she doesn't think those things of me. I know I can go to her for anything. I'm sure I could with my friends as well, they're all great people, otherwise I wouldn't bother with them. But that illogical fear creeps back up anytime I think about it and I just usually come running back to Soo Young.

"I think," she began slowly, looking like she was still actually deep in thought as she spoke, "it would be good to try and bring it up, but not push it. If he doesn't want to talk about it, then just drop it. After that I think you might should try confiding in him first. It might make him more comfortable talking to you about it." She paused, still looking thoughtful, so I waited for her to continue. "From the way you've always described him, he doesn't sound like the type to get mad at you for complaining about small things, so I don't think you should worry about that."

"You think?" I asked, uncertain.

"Based from what you've said," she answered. "Do you think it wouldn't work?"

"It's not that," I said, stretching out my legs in front of me, crossing them at my ankles. "I just wish I could be sure. When you watch movies with this kind of stuff the right way to handle things seems a lot more obvious. But when it comes to real life everything just seems like the wrong choice."

"I know what you mean," she said, looking more distracted now than thoughtful..

"I guess I have no other choice but to try and hope for the best," I said, heaving out one last sigh. "We're going out for lunch tomorrow, I can ask him about it then. No point in pushing it off."

"That's right, jump straight in!" she said, acting overly enthusiastic, especially for her, in an endearing attempt to cheer me up. "Go! Fighting! You can do it!"

"Right!" I said, pumping my fist into the air while trying to have a regal look on my face. "I'm coming for you tomorrow, Xiumin!"

"That actually sounds a little weird."

"Shut up.”

~

“Can I ask you something?”

I looked up, surprised. I was at my lunch with Xiumin, which had been going well, aside from the fact that I still hadn't plucked up the courage to bring anything up. In my defense, he hadn't been acting very strange. We had been laughing and joking the entire time, not talking about anything too serious, which may have been why.

And I may have steered the conversation in that direction on purpose, but there's no proof of that.

This was actually why I had been surprised. All day we had been light hearted and easy going with each other, but his question had more of a serious tone to it.

“Yeah,” I answered him, curious, “Of course.”

He stared at me with hard eyes, mulling something over in his head, seeming nervous about it. The longer he hesitated, the more nervous I got from his expression.

“Who did you have a crush on high school?” The words came out a bit rushed, but some of the nervousness had slipped from his face.

I stared back at him blankly for a moment before the question sunk in.

“Oh my gosh,” I said, laughing the question off. “I thought it was something serious from the look on your face.”

His face stayed serious for a moment, before a smile formed. I was surprised by how forced it looked.

“Well, you never did say who it was,” he said, making a play at being joking. 

I was very confused. It didn't seem like he had been joking, based from his response, but he was playing it off like he was. I didn't understand, though, why he would take that question seriously and be upset when I didn't.

“Because it's my secret,” I evaded, even more unwilling to spill the beans on my old crush when now that there may be a chance I was beginning to feel the same way about him again. “Besides, it was high school, what does it matter now?”

Everything, apparently.

“Just curious about the guy you stayed single for until after you graduated,” he said, a bit more relaxed, but not by much.

“It wasn't like that,” I said, even though it was.

“That not what you said before.”

I liked and hated that he remembered.

“It's really not important anymore,” I said again.

“Why are you so adamant about not saying?”

“Why are you so adamant about finding out?”

We were both silent then. He dropped his eyes down to his food, which he pushed around on his plate, looking nervous and uncomfortable. Wanting to change the subject, and since we had already lost the easy conversation from earlier, I decided it was time to get down to business.

“Why was it again that you stopped going to school in the states?”

He sobered; less nervous, more tense.

“Family reasons.”

His response was so short and clipped I hesitated, but decided to continue.

I'll just ask once and then if he doesn't want to talk about then I'll drop it and follow plan B.

“Can I ask what those reasons are?”

He didn't answer at first, instead he continued to move his food on his plate as his look of discomfort grew. After a few seconds he looked up at me and said;

“My mom was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and I had to come back to take care of her.”

I stared back at him in shock as my stomach dropped. 

“Oh,” I breathed. “How is she?”

He hesitated again, looking uncomfortable.

“She passed away a couple of months ago.”

I didn't know what to think, what to say. How horrible. How awful. How tragic. 

How terrible of me to be asking him about it.

“I'm sorry I asked, if I had known-“

“It's okay,” he cut me off, honestly not looking as upset as I would have expected him to. “I don't mind talking about it.”

He doesn't mind?

I couldn't believe him. His mother had died, how could he not mind talking about it? That had to hurt like hell. Especially since he was an only child and his dad had passed away a few years ago from a heart attack. She was his only family. And she was gone. Sure, it had happened a couple of months ago, but the ramifications were something he was living with every day.

How does he not mind?

I thought back to our previous conversations, and tried to remember all the times he had acted guarded or distant. There was his reasons for returning to America, but that had just been addressed. He had acted strange when he had mentioned he lived alone. That was also now answered; he had probably been living with his mother while he was taking care of her if it was pancreatic cancer, and when she died he was left alone. Of course, he probably could have shared a place with a friend, but that leads me to another time he had acted strange. He’d said he hadn't spent much time with his old friends since getting back, and if he had been going to school for engineering while taking care of his sick mother, that would explain why; he didn't have the time. He must have grown apart from them. 

And then, of course, last weekend. I had asked him if he was getting the pads for his mom, and he had shut down at that.

Because his mother had died.

Because he was clearly still hurting over it, even though he was saying he didn't mind talking about it.

“But you do,” I said. “It's why you've avoided talking about it.”

“I haven't avoided it.” He wasn't angry, just confused.

“Yes, you have. Every time we got too close to talking about it, you’d tense up and make it obvious you wanted to change the subject. I mean, I never knew why, or that any of it all was connected. But you obviously didn't want to talk about some things, and I get why now.”

He continued looking at me, seeming like he was about to contradict me, but then seemed to think better of it. 

“I have?”

“Yes.”

I had no idea why he was so surprised by this. Wasn't it normal to not want to talk about your mom’s death? Wasn't it normal to be bothered by it? Why was it so surprising for him?

“I didn't realize I was doing that,” he said, his eyebrows coming together as he looked down at the table, staring at it, thinking. “I mean, I don't particularly like talking about it, of course, but I never really thought that I avoided it. I'm definitely not the one who brings it up, I usually wait until someone else asks. I don't care if people ask about I, thought; it's something that happened, it's a fact.” He paused. “It's something I have to get used to talking about because it's not like it's going to change. I just hate having to tell people who don't know because it always makes them uncomfortable. People don't usually know what to say or do, and I hate having to do that to them.”

I sat silent, stunned.

He didn't like talking about it because of the way it made other people feel?

“So you avoided the subject because you didn't want to make me uncomfortable?”

He shrugged.

“I wasn't intentionally avoiding it. I hadn't even realized I was doing anything to-to notice,” here he squirmed a bit, and if we hadn't been having the conversation we were having I would have sworn his cheeks had developed a pink tint to them. “I hadn't realized I was giving those kinds of signals.”

“It doesn't really matter either way, if you wanted to talk about it or not,” I said, since he seemed to be bothered by it. 

“I just-“ he started then faltered. He hesitated, then began again. “You can ask me about anything, you know.” Either the lighting must be off in here or I needed to get my eyes checked because his cheeks looked even more pink than before. “I don't have any secrets. Not many, anyways.”

He smiled when he said the last part, and I returned it, feeling warmed for some reason. Then I realized that even though we had just been talking about his tragedy, he was now trying to make me feel better. He really meant it when he said he just didn't like to make other people feel uncomfortable.

“Well, I've got tons. And you'll never know about any of them,” I said, attempting to help lighten the mood as well.

“Like who your high school crush was.”

I rolled my eyes at that.

“That one especially.”

I hesitated, taking in his smile that was relaxed and genuine. I was suddenly struck by how happy it made me to see it.

“You know, if you ever need someone to talk to…”

“Thanks,” he said. “I appreciate it.”

Well, that was one question answered, and honestly, I was beginning to figure out the answer for my other question as well.