Dara

“Listen, baby—,” Jiyong says when we’re driving to my mom’s store a few minutes later.

My hands tighten on the steering wheel. “Don’t call me that anymore,” I tell him.
 

“What do you want me to call you, then?”
 

I shrug. “Whatever. Just not baby.” I reach down to turn on my stereo but realize it still doesn’t work. I grip the steering wheel tighter and concentrate on the road ahead, even when we’re at a stoplight.

Jiyong holds his hands up. “What do you want from me? You want me to tell you lies, is that what you want? Okay, I’ll give you lies. Dara, without you I’m nothin’. Dara, you own my heart and soul. Dara, when I’m not with you I feel like life has no meaning. Dara, I love you. Is that what you want to hear?”

“Yes.”

“No guy who actually says those things really means them.”
 

“I bet your brother says them to Bom and means them.”
 

“That’s because he’s lost all common sense. I thought you were the one girl who didn’t fall for my bull.”

“I don’t. Consider my wanting you as my real boyfriend as a lapse in judgment,” I tell him.
 

“But I’m over it. I expect less than nothing from you from now on, and I’ve realized you’re not my type at all. In fact,” I say, glancing at him, “I might call Jaejoong. He wants to go out again.”

Jiyong reaches down to my purse and pulls my phone from the side pocket. I try to snatch it out of his hand, but he’s too quick. “What are you doing?”

“Concentrate on the road, Dara. You wouldn’t want to get into an accident ’cause you weren’t payin’ attention, would you?”

“Put it back,” I order.
 

“I will. I need to check somethin’ first.”
 

At the next stoplight, I reach over and take the phone out of his hand. I read the text message

Jiyong just sent Jaejoong. 4Q. “You didn’t.”

“Yeah, I did.” He sits back, looking pretty pleased with himself. “You can thank me later.”
 

Thank him? Thank him! I pull off the road, pick up my purse, and swing it like a war club aiming right at Jiyong’s head.

He grabs the purse before it hits him. “Don’t tell me you really wanted to go out with that tool again.”

“I don’t know what I want anymore.”

I get back on the road, heading for my mom’s shop. I stop the car and get out, without waiting for Jiyong.

“Dara, wait.” Jiyong growls as he climbs out of the window. I hear him jog to catch up with me. “I’m gonna fix that damn car door if it’s the last thing I ever do.” He rubs his hand through his hair. “Listen, if things were different . . .”

“What things?”

“It’s complicated.”
 

I turn my back on him. If he won’t tell me, there’s no use in arguing.

“Hi, guys!” My mom greets us at the front of the store, so our conversation is cut short.

“Dara, I pulled out the receipts from last month and the past week. Feel free to reconcile those. Jiyong, come with me.”

While I sit in the office and tally receipts and reconcile the books, I hear my mom explain to Jiyong how to separate the boxes of loose teas that were just delivered.

At around one, my mom peeks her head in the door and tells me to meet her in the break room for lunch. My m