Entry 9. June 2, 2014

If you’ve been wondering, my dear Dear Diary friend, I’ve been gone.

For twelve days.

Again.

Wow. This trend. We should set a new trend and call it #twelvedayupdate on Twits. Is it Twits? Wait, no. Titter? Whatever. Tuetrr or or whatever that social networking site is called (although I’m sure calling a social networking site other than a site may or may not be illegal).

And speaking of .

No! Get your dirty mind out of the gutter, I do NOT to . That’s so disgusting. I to—well—

You don’t need to know. Frickin nothing okay. ANYWAY I DIGRESS:

Okay. So.

In the most perfectly awkward way to transition into this mini-story that I am about to entertain you with, diary, here’s an extra-awkward alert, just in case you needed one.

Not the proudest moment of my life. But.

Here goes.

After math class, I was pretty effing annoyed. My project partner for math was being particularly screwy today, glancing with her gooey-gooey honey eyes in that way at Kris (who, of course, just happens to be in my math class as well), who had a different partner and was on the opposite corner of the room. I, naturally feeling that it was I who should be on the receiving end of whatever Kris vibes the girl might be getting from staring at him, kind of got mad and smacked her across the shoulder. A girly slap, but she yelped and tattled (like a kindergartner) on me anyway.

I got a detention. For protecting Kris’s liberty. And his from being burned out by my project partner’s fangirling eye lasers.

Go figure.

And that’s not even the awkward part.

So lunch rolled around. These past couple days, self-dubbed EXO has started to sit together, especially after I got out of the hospital. Like the encounter with the gang has bonded us or whatever. I guess it was really the loudmouths Chanyeol and Bacon who got all the others to start sitting with them, although why they would want to sit with that insane couple deserves reasons beyond the functionally perceiving area of the human mind (FYI, I don’t sit with Chanyeol and Bacon because I want to, I’m just an extremely loyal best friend to Bacon who also graciously realizes just how important my presence is to him...and well, because Kris has been convinced to sit at the table now).

I was pretty PO’ed (pissed off, just in case Diary is a little blockheaded and/or drunk and/or high today), what with that most unconstitutional detention and pretty doe-eyed Luhan blabbing and gushing his head off to Kris (screw Luhan and his big doe eyes and pretty pale skin, according to me that’s not what’s in today anyway). To my bitter satisfaction Kris was only half-listening, but I couldn’t really tell why. Halfway through I had to report to the cafeteria lady for kitchen duty.

Fun.

I’d excused myself and was beginning to walk to the counters where they served food when I heard footsteps behind me.

I stopped and without turning around, growled, “I told you already, Bacon. Kitchen patrol.”

The footsteps stopped along with me. “Bacon?” it echoed.

That voice. That honey-sweet, deep rich voice I’d recognize anywhere. I whisked myself around. Beautiful Kris. Angelic Kris. Beautiful angelic Kris, standing right in front of me.

And guess what I did.

Take a few steps back coolly, as if we were talking bro to bro?

No.

Give him a sweet, aegyo-ful smile and excuse myself?

No.

Fling myself into his arms and sob like a maniac?

No.

I can’t believe myself, even unto this day: today.

I just turned around and walked away.

I know. Shocker. My major crush standing in front of me eliciting a friendly conversation open to flirting, the biggest moment of any teenager’s life, and I walk away. What. The. Hell.

Before you criticize, being all pissy and testosterone-filled makes you problematic, okay. I bet you’ve done the exact same thing, turned right around after staring smack-dab at the face of opportunity (aka a god, no less). Don’t blame me for something I was obviously not in control of. So close your mouth because I know it’s obviously open out of surprise, and get ready for the real awkward part.

Kris just stood there, stunned. And then I heard him jogging to catch up, managing to fast-walk alongside my breakneck pace. “Tao...”

So okay. Maybe he knows the secret that he’s the key to unlocking my heart. I melted a little at his slight, whiny voice that I doubt he ever used to anyone else.

He tried again. “I need to talk. To you!” But I just kept on going.

Finally Kris growled, a rumbling y sound of frustration, more like his normal self. He jogged a couple more steps, planting himself in front of me. And just for pointers, if you ever try that to a PO’ed anyone, don’t. It doesn’t happen like the dramas or movies where the fast-walking guy just stops. It doesn’t. Maybe because we’re too pissed, or maybe because we have so much momentum propelling us forward, but more or less you both end up crashing into each other and falling facefirst to the floor.

Um.

Awk warning. Extreme awk warning.

“Oww...” Kris groaned.

I mean, it was awkward. I was sprawled on top of him. In an. Um. Awkward position.

And worse? The cafeteria went dead silent. Why? Because we tripped over each other in the middle of the entire auditorium. Hundreds of pairs of eyes were trained on us.

Got something worse? Let’s hear it.

EXO was the first to react, and they shouted all at once, scrambling from their tables and running over, all the while trying to hide their snickers. (Yeah I saw you. I saw you ALL. O_O)

Kris, having taken a hard hit to the head by the tile floor, just grunted inaudible mutters, something probably like “Taogetoffme”

And you’d think I’d be enjoying this? Well, probably. Maybe on better circumstances. But not at that moment. NOT then.

Chanyeol was the first to reach us, with his long basketball-practiced legs. The problem was, all he did was hover aimlessly, feeling the tension but not really knowing how to deal with it. You’d think that scrawny awkward turtle, awkwardest of the awkward, would know what to do in an awkward situation. Well, bam. He didn’t.

I would’ve scrambled straight on my feet—I mean yeah, love the Kris-Tao closeness but not when a gabazillion fangirls are glaring at me for molesting their kingka—except something near my ankle was really hurting. I could feel the piercing and horrified stares of everyone around me, and Kris was grunting, coming to his senses.

“I can’t move,” I snapped, kind of in a bad mood already. Yeah. Kinda. “My ankle hurts.” I tried to shift, but couldn’t really.

And in that moment, Kris’s eyes flashed open. They became wide as saucers, and he started to writhe wildly. Maybe it was lack of oxygen with my entire body squashing his internal organs or whatever, but it looked like he was having a mini-seizure underneath me.

In short, Kris panicked.

“YEOL! YEOLLY! CHANYEOL!” he started screaming. I knew he wanted Chanyeol’s help to get me off him, but to the onlookers it probably sounded like I was bringing a knife to him.

“TAO! You okay?” Suho and Chen rushed to my side. Kai and Kyungsoo-I-like-to-be-called-D.O. lingered behind, but they looked worried. Sehun and Luhan were both wearing overly exaggerated expressions (cut it out, Sehun and Luhan, this is not effing drama class). Kris looked somewhere in between partially demented and insane to somewhat miffed that he wasn’t getting any attention from EXO.

Bacon, that slowpoke, finally caught up and started helping me to my feet. “You shouldn’t be testing those bandages already,” he groaned in my ear as he dragged my larger shoulder around his smaller frame to support me. "You're not healed enough. And if you don't want anyone to know about your injuries, you gotta let it rest!"

But really. I’d stopped focusing on what they’d been saying long ago. Way even before Kris screamed for Chanyeol.

Because I was really only thinking about one thing, and I couldn’t remove my mind from it.

You know it was awkward?

Yeah. It was.

But more awkward than anything, where our very awkward and very private spots touched...

His was. Uhm.

Hard.