Minji’s POV

As soon as Minho and I got home from school, I checked the time—and sighed. My date with God knows who was in exactly one hour. And as much as I appreciated the fact that Key and the others were trying to help me, I still wasn't very enthusiastic about the prospect of this twelve-blind-dates-in-one-week thing.

I placed my bag on a chair and pulled out some books, figuring I might as well get some homework done before my date showed up. I was halfway through calculus when my phone rang. “Hello?”

“Hey, Minji, it’s Key,” came the reply. “Are you excited for your blind date?”

“Yeah,” I lied, putting my pencil down and twisting a strand of brown hair around one finger.

“Good. Because I need to tell you something,” Key continued. “At the end of it, your date will give you a little memento. You need to hang on to this memento, along with the eleven others you’ll receive, and bring them to me at the end of the week. They’re proof that you actually went on the dates and stuck to the plan. Okay?”

“Sure,” I said skeptically. “So, are you gonna tell me what these ‘mementos’ actually are?”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” Key answered sweetly. “In about half an hour, in fact.”

I looked towards the clock and saw that he was right. “Oh crap,” I muttered, almost to myself. “I’ve got to get ready. Bye, Key, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Tell me how it goes!” Key chirped, and then the line went dead. I got up and hurried to my room, wondering what I was supposed to wear. Nobody had told me anything about the date, so I had no clue where we were going. I shrugged and decided to opt for casual.

I changed into a pair of jeans and a comfy cardigan. As I was standing in front of the mirror, speculating on whether I should do anything with my hair, I heard a tap on the door. I turned to see Minho leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed and a smile on his face.

“You ready?” he asked.

I nodded, returning his smile. “Yeah. But could you at least tell me the name of the person I’m going out with?”

To my irritation but not surprise, Minho shook his head. “Key made us all swear not to give you any details,” he said, slightly sheepishly. “But your date should be here in about ten minutes, so you don’t have to wait too long to find out.”

I sighed. “Okay,” I replied, and followed him out of my room into the front of the house. I sat on the stairs, peering out the window for any sign of my date.

Right on cue, a fancy silver Porsche turned the corner onto our street and pulled up in front of our house. The door opened, and a tall blonde guy with sunglasses stepped out, dramatically taking them off as if he were in a car commercial. I exchanged a look with Minho, then got up to open the front door.

“Hi,” I called out to the stranger, who looked up. He was really attractive, with slightly sharp, angular features and almond-shaped eyes. I found myself wondering where Key had found twelve guys willing to go on a blind date with me.

The guy nodded to Minho, then looked at me expectantly. I stepped off the porch, heading towards him, and when I reached the car I turned to wave at Minho. He waved back, then quickly stepped inside the house with a barely stifled laugh. I frowned. What was up with that?

“Hey, I’m Kris,” came a voice from behind me, and I turned to face the handsome blonde stranger. “Hi, I’m Minji,” I answered, smiling at him. He stared at me for a second, then turned away and got into the car. I pulled open the passenger door and slid into a luxurious leather seat.

“Nice car,” I commented appreciatively, my eyes doing a sweep of the impressive interior. Kris glanced at me sideways and said, “Thanks,” before putting his sunglasses back on and silently pulling out of the driveway.

Hmm…maybe he was a bit shy.

“So, do you go to SM High?” I asked, trying to start a conversation.

Kris nodded, his eyes on the road. “How old are you?” I tried again. There was a pause before he answered, “Same as your brother.” I nodded; so he was a fourth-year.

We lapsed back into silence for a few minutes. Gosh—Kris wasn’t incredibly talkative, was he?

“So…um, where are we going?” I tentatively asked, looking out the window. We were in an unfamiliar part of town, with shops on either side and people milling about on the sidewalks.

“We’re here,” Kris replied shortly, pulling into a parking space in front of a Chinese restaurant I’d never been to before. We got out of the car, and I followed him inside. A lady positioned near the entrance looked up in recognition as Kris entered and bowed, greeting him warmly in Mandarin. To my surprise, he responded in Mandarin, returning the bow politely. After the lady had seated us and hurried away, I spoke up. “You speak Chinese?”

Kris looked up from the menu in his hands. “Yeah, I’m from China,” he answered simply, then went back to poring over the list. I awkwardly picked up my own, and we reverted back into silence.

A waitress came by and asked us what we wanted to drink, to which Kris replied orange juice and I water. She returned with our glasses, and I sipped from mine quietly, trying to ignore the heavy silence.

“Hey.” I glanced up and nearly choked on my water when I saw Kris staring at me over his glass of orange juice, his dark brown eyes piercing mine. He beckoned to me with one finger and winked, then attempted to take a sip of his drink. Instead, he started coughing, spluttering and setting his glass down. I stared at him in shock and alarm. “Um—are you okay?” I asked timidly, leaning across the table.

Kris recovered his composure quickly and sat up, answering coolly, “Yeah, I’m good.” I stared at him dubiously as he returned to his menu, looking as though he didn’t have a care in the world. I clamped my lips together, but a giggle escaped. Kris glanced up in surprise, and then I couldn’t help myself, cracking up and holding my stomach.

Kris stared at me in shock. “W-what?” he said uncertainly, a hesitant smile breaking out onto his face.

“N—nothing,” I attempted to say through my laughter, “it’s just—are you always like this?”

“Like what?” Kris asked, looking a bit at a loss for words.

“Like you’re trying really hard to be cool, but—but you’re actually just hilarious instead?” And I reverted back into peals of laughter. To my pleasant surprise, however, Kris joined in, covering his mouth with his hand. We ignored the strange looks we were getting from surrounding tables, and eventually calmed down enough to speak in normal voices.

“Excuse you, but I’m not trying to be cool—I just am.” Kris feigned offense, and I rolled my eyes, playing along anyway.

“Right, sorry, my bad.”

Just then the waitress came back to take our orders, and for the next half hour or so we enjoyed delicious Chinese food as well as a lovely sarcastic banter—completely opposite of the awkward small talk in the car on the way here. I particularly enjoyed the orange chicken, and tried to offer some to Kris.

“Sorry, but chicken’s not my style,” he said loftily, holding up a hand. I ignored him and shoved a piece of chicken into his mouth with chopsticks. Kris’s eyes widened in shock, and he started choking for the second time in the short duration of our date. I cackled triumphantly as he swallowed the chicken while giving me the evil eye.

“Still not your style?” I questioned. Kris hesitated, and I raised an eyebrow. He glared at me, then sighed.

“Okay, it was better than I expected,” he admitted finally, and I whooped with exultant delight. “You are so not cool,” I teased playfully, flicking him on the forehead. Kris chuckled, swatting my hand away.

We paid (splitting the cost because Kris was too cool to pay for it all) and then left the restaurant, arguing over who loved orange chicken more. This incredibly important debate lasted the entire car ride home, so we pulled into the driveway long before I was expecting to.

“Anyways, the bottom line is that up until about two seconds ago you didn’t even like chicken, so I’m the winner,” I said, turning to face Kris.

“Fine,” Kris relented, grinning at me. I grinned back, and a moment passed before he pulled something silver out of his pocket. “Here, I almost forgot to give this to you,” he said, dropping a Hershey Kiss into my palm. It looked pretty typical, but upon closer inspection I noticed that instead of the trademark “Kisses” on the little slip of paper sticking out of the top, it read “Kris”.   I stared at it for a second before looking up at him. “Um…thanks?” I said, nonplussed.

Kris laughed at my confusion. “It’s your memento, to give to Key,” he explained. I suddenly remembered what Key had said on the phone a few hours earlier and nodded in comprehension.

We got out of the car, and Kris walked me up to the front door. I unlocked it to step inside, then hesitated and turned back.

“Thanks, oh Cool One,” I said, smiling at him. “That was really fun.”

“No problem, Chicken Fanatic,” he quipped, and I giggled. I stepped inside, giving him one last little salute, to which he replied with a wink. Then I closed the door, and turned to see Minho standing at the top of the steps.

“Hey Minji. How was your date with Kris Wu?” he snickered. I narrowed my eyes at him, suddenly understanding why he’d been trying not to laugh back when Kris had picked me up.

“It was actually good,” I said pointedly, shrugging off my jacket. “Great, in fact. Kris is a total doofus, but all in all a pretty cool guy—when he’s not trying to be.”

“That’s good to hear,” Minho said snidely. Then his expression turned more serious, and he looked at me closely. “So was it really okay, though?” he asked, in a much gentler voice. “Do you think you can handle doing this for the next week?”

I thought about it for a moment, remembering Kris’s failed attempt to woo me over his orange juice and feeling the little Hershey Kiss with his name on it still clutched in my palm. If all the other eleven guys turned out to be as “cool” as Kris…

“You know what, oppa?” I said suddenly, looking up to meet Minho’s concerned eyes. “I think I can.”

A/N:  Yehet for EXO's Showtime references! :3