Technically, prom ends at midnight, but around eleven o'clock. Park Chanyeol and his date Hana stop by the little cluster of chairs where NamJoo, Kyungsoo, Jieun and I are sitting. Hana is wearing her prom queen tiara, and Chanyeol, a purple sash. The girls sit up a little straighter, as if Chanyeol and Hana are the king and queen of England, not of prom.

          "Do," Chanyeol says as a greeting. "After-party, my house."

          "Sweet," Kyungsoo says, holding out his fist for a bump.

          Chanyeol gives him one with the arm that Hana isn't hanging off of. "You too, Jongin."

          "Wouldn't miss it," I promise, even though I owe it to Jieun to take her to the school-and father-sanctioned after-party. There's no way that I'm going to no abide by Mr. Choi's only request. I'll just go to Chanyeol's after that.

The school-sanctioned after-part wasn't well attended, so there was plenty of food-appetizers, pizza, and every variety of cupcake known to man. I ate five.

Which is why I turned down the beer Chanyeol offered me when Kyungsoo, NamJoo, and I walked into his kitchen. Beer and cupcakes somehow didn't go together.

          "You got soda or something?" I ask.

          "Sure, man," Chanyeol says. He opens a cooler.

          I choose a can. "Thanks."

          "So, you driving people home?" Chanyeol asks me.

          "Yeah, I guess."

          Chanyeol holds out a fist for a bump, then gives me one of those half-handshake-half-hug deals. "You're the best, Jongin."

          Kyungsoo taps his cup to my can. "Yeah," he says, "Jongin's awesome."

          "And dateless?" Chanyeol asks, looking around. His gaze stops on NamJoo.

          "She turned into a pumpkin," Kyungsoo explains for me.

          "Too bad." Chanyeol says this with half a grin and a little sarcasm. He's looking at NamJoo like guys look at girls-adding up her pieces and aprts as if to determine her score.

          She notices and blushes.

          "Can I get you something?" he asks her, ignoring us completely.

          "Sure, a beer would be great!"

          I glance at Kyungsoo, see if he's noticed the obvious flirting that was going on between his date and the school's basketball star. No, Kyungsoo's attention is on the deck-turned-dance-floor just past a set of French doors were some couple are still in formalwear and others are in street clothes, and all are dancing like they've been drinking.

          Once NamJoo has her drink, she follows Kyungsoo outside. Since I no longer have a dance partner, I stay inside and mingle. I get called in to ref a drinking game and then pulled away to argue the band geek vs. dorkestra hierarchy.

When I go to find Kyungsoo and NamJoo, its after three. I'm getting tired and don't want to fall asleep at the wheel-that'd pretty much cancel out my designated-driver status.

I didn't see Kyungsoo and NamJoo, so I pan the fenced-in yard from the apple trees to the fire pit. No luck.

          Until I see them.

          Kissing.

          My body runs cold as my heart stops pushing warm blood to my extremities.

          His wide, pale hands are cradling her face-thumbs on her delicate cheekbones, fingers in her hair.

          Oh God.

          Their lips move over each other's.

          I shouldn't be watching this.

          There's tongue involved.

          I can't look away.

          She presses closer, wrinkling his tuxedo jacket-that she's wearing.

          His thumbs slide towards her ears, deepening the kiss.

          All of a sudden I want to look away.

          Want to run, hide.

          Cry.

          I study the laces on my Converse, how they've gone gray near the eyelets. I wonder how much string I'll need to tie up the hole in my heart. Because, even though I know Kyungsoo doesn't like me like I like him, I haven't had proof before tonight. 

          No. This is more than a bruise. There's some major breakage.

          I love him.

          When I look up, NamJoo notices me standing there.

          Kyungsoo turns, sees me.

          "Hey," I manage. "I was thinking of, um, uh, leaving."

          NamJoo runs the back of her hand over her moist lips. "So soon?"

          "It's three in the morning!" I snap, my voice crackling on "three."

          "Past someone's bedtime?" she asks, equally y.

          "Easy," Kyungsoo says slowly. "We can go."

          NamJoo shoots him a look.

          "Or we can walk," he replies with a shrug.

          "Okay, okay," NamJoo says. "Let me find my shoes."

          And when she's busy, Kyungsoo mouths the word sorry, nodding his head in NamJoo's direction.

          Is he apologizing for NamJoo's attitude? Or for making out with her?"


________________________________________________________________________________________________

          "We should go to Gyeongju," Kyungsoo says over school pizza and french fries. He has this geektastic day planner open.

I thought I'd talked him out of this. We went to prom instead.

          "Just for the day-your mom won't kill you if it's just for the day," he says. "We won't even set foot in your uncle's precious condo."

          "But when? We have exams coming up."

          I watch Kyungsoo's kips as he says a single word.

          "Friday."

          Mesmerized, I fall speechless. When I recover, I ask, "Friday? This week, Friday?"

           Kyungsoo taps the day on his phone's calendar as if it's already planned.

          Thursday is the senior prank and Friday is senior skip day, so I tell him, "No one will want to go, not after being up all night with the prank."

           "Not everyone," he says. "Just us." 

          And the way he says it, with his voice soft and his brown eyes both molasses and serious at the same time, has my heart expanding like a balloon filling with air; one dub beats louder than the others. "Okay," I say, not because my brain thinks it's a good idea, but because my heart tells