With a week left until Valentine’s Day, all of my single friends start to feel anxious about the future. Will they get a valentine in their class? Do they have a secret admirer?

I know for sure that Nam is going to buy Seya a Red Valentine, complete with a serenade. He even told us that he’s going to organize a picnic for dinner, and on that day he’s going to officially ask her to go out with him. Bora and I drive him to the mall, where we help him choose the right scent for candles and even the right size for a picnic basket.

“I’d want you for my boyfriend,” Bora says as she drives us back to campus. “Isn’t he really sweet?”

“I agree,” I say, leaning forward from the backseat to knuckle Nam on the head.

“You’re going to kill me one of these days with all the times you hurt me,” he says.

“How’s that guy, Bora?” I ask her, disregarding him with a smile. “Is he planning to get you one?”

“Oh my gosh, please no,” she shudders. “I don’t want one from him. I’ll just feel bad.” She glances at my reflection in the rearview mirror. “What about you? Is Lange getting you one?”

“We’re not a thing,” I laugh. I look out the window and start to question exactly what we are. After our mutual confessions, nothing overly romantic or climactic has happened. Chanyeol says he promises that Lange will do something for me on Valentine’s Day, but I’m not even worried about that. I’m worried about Lange’s sincerity, and I’m worried about my own.

It’s strange. I still think he’s beautiful and talented and nice, but I feel that something is amiss. I know what it is, but I’m trying to avoid it, because truthfully, I am afraid to be hurt by the same person again. Before things propel forward, shouldn’t I know the answers?

“Get me a valentine!” Bora suddenly shouts.

“Why would I do that?” I ask.

“So that I can have a secret admirer.”

“You already know I love you,” I console her. She sticks her tongue out at me, and I just lean back in my seat and cross my arms.

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot to give this to you guys,” Nam says as he rifles through his backpack.  He pulls two things out – one is a gray phone case with the imprint of koalas on it, and the other is a silver, geometrical necklace. “Here,” he says, passing me the necklace and taking Bora’s phone from her purse. He slides the case onto her phone and places it on her lap.

“What’s this for?”

“Happy early Valentine’s Day,” he tells us.

“Are you for real?” I ask him, flabbergasted.

“Until you both get boyfriends, I’ll be your valentine,” he says. I make a move to whack him on the head, but he avoids it expertly.

“Aw, this guy,” Bora says as she pats Nam’s leg. “Look at this kid. Such a keeper. He’s a keeper, right?”

“Keeper!” I agree as I put on the necklace. “You know, Nam, you could always just date both of us, I mean … “

“You guys are crazy,” he laughs. “Don’t worry. I have all of your backs. Except you,” he points at me. “Chanyeol has your back.”

That subtle differentiation of who ‘has my back’ gives me a reevaluated perspective. He’s right. Chanyeol is my wingman – the guy who set out to give me a perfect match. Not Nam, who faithfully reminded me that I yearned too much, but Chanyeol, who encourages my wants without any personal input.

Why is that? He never says anything about what he thinks of Lange and me. The only time he ever did was when I made my lengthy confession to him. Since then, he hasn’t spoken his opinion. Now that I think of it, does he think Lange and I are a good match, or is he only pairing us because I asked him to?

“By the way, when’s game night?” Nam asks. “Bora told me about it yesterday.”

“Oh, that’s two days from now,” I say. “At nine. You’re coming, right?”

“Yeah! I’m gonna beat all of you,” he warns us.

“What are you talking about?” Bora smirks. “You always die.”

“That’s cause everybody goes and gangs up and kills me!”

“Shut up, Nam.”

She turns up the music, and we spend the rest of the ride back to campus singing to radio songs off-key.

-----

When game night approaches, I ask Bora and Nam to invite anyone who might be interested in playing. We assemble in the lobby of the girls’ dorms and wait for people to come. Two of Bora’s friends come, as well as Seya. I invite Chanyeol and Lange. Chanyeol comes alone, like I thought he would, but what I don’t expect is Lange, who I honestly thought wouldn’t come. He looks like he just got out of the shower – his hair is wet.

“Hey,” I say when I see him.

“Hey,” he smiles. He sits beside me, and while it gives me a sense of closure, something about the gesture also disconcerts me. Chanyeol, who sits in the other the seat beside me, passes me a playful salute with two fingers.

Curious students who pass by the dorm ask us what we’re doing and consequently become involved in the game. By this time, we have about twenty people gathered in the lobby. I only know the names of half of them, while the other half are strangers I have seen in the cafeteria or on my way aroun