Friday

The next day was a complete blur. I have no idea how I got through my classes, and I don’t remember the lessons at all. Even things as easy as socializing with friends were done on auto-pilot. My entire focus was occupied with thoughts of that night. Every now and then I’d get so wrapped up in the logistics of the party arrangements that I’d even forget why I had cooked up the plan in the first place.

By 7:00 that night, Taemin had been at my house for an hour already, helping me get the place tidied up and putting away anything that might get broken. Word of my party was getting around pretty quickly at school, and I wasn’t entirely sure who was coming, so I figured it would be best to be cautious.

“I don’t know why you’re so concerned,” complained Taemin. “You’re going to be right here to keep an eye on things.”

“Well...yeah...but I can’t be everywhere at once, can I?”

Taemin shrugged and picked up a vase and one of mom’s china figurines. “I guess. But why’d you invite so many people then?”

So it wouldn’t seem weird to invite Eunhyuk. “Taemin, we’re almost seventeen. Throwing big parties is normal,” I said, putting some bags of chips on the end tables.

Taemin shook his head. “You’re way too concerned with what’s ‘normal,’ Jonghyun. Where are we putting these?”

“Stick them in the laundry room. They should be safe there.”

As Taemin headed out of the room, the doorbell rang. It was Minho and Key. Minho was carrying several bags, and Key had a casserole dish.

“Wow, you cooked?” I asked, holding the door open for them.

“Of course!” answered Key. “Where are we setting up?”

“Uh, I just put some chips around...” I said, gesturing to the living room.

“Are we animals?” Key rebuked me. Then to Minho, “I told you.” Key breezed into the dining room. “Bring the stuff in here,” he called out. I took a couple of bags from Minho, and we followed Key. “You too,” he said to me, “go round up those bags,” he instructed, waving an arm toward the living room.

When I returned, Key had spread a tablecloth out and was busy arranging plastic plates, cups, napkins, and serving bowls. “Chips in the bowls,” he dictated. Minho and I did as we were told.

By the time people started arriving, Key had us all organized and the place looked pretty great. Taemin put some music on and people began milling about, eating and chatting. This was definitely going to earn me some points with the school crowd.

I wandered over to the hall mirror to check my hair. I had put some gel in it and swept it up today. I thought it made me look older. But now that the house was getting kind of warm, my bangs were starting to droop. I was busy fussing with it when Taemin called out—“Your hair looks great! Just leave it!”—a little louder than I would have liked, but no one seemed to notice. I nodded a thank you to him and abandoned the mirror.

When Eunhyuk turned up, I tried to play it cool. I waited a full minute for Key to show him where to put his jacket and snacks before I made a beeline for him. He was wearing a white t-shirt and skinny jeans, and, god, he looked so good I wasn’t sure how I’d manage to talk to him. But Eunhyuk was so relaxed and personable, it wasn’t long before we’d spent a good half-hour chatting, mostly about music. Periodically, I’d forget my plan and just lose myself in conversation. Then I’d remember what I was up to and my insides would quiver like jelly and my tongue would turn to sandpaper.

My big problem was how to get him upstairs. I mean, how do you segue from talking about music to, “Hey, wanna go to my room and deflower me”? Internally I was scrambling for excuses, but all of them were stupid.

Then an opportunity presented itself.

“Oh, you collect Pokémon cards,” Eunhyuk observed, spotting my card album on an end table. Mom had told me to put it away, and I was wishing I had remembered. Way to remind him you’re only a teenager, .

“I used to collect them,” he continued.

“Yeah, me too. I mean...I used to...also.” Smooth. Then, wishing I would stop talking about it but continuing nonetheless, “I have some that are pretty rare.”

“Oh yeah? Which ones?”

OK, he was actually interested. That was unexpected. “I have most of a set of Gold Star cards. And I even have a Charizard First Edition,” I stated proudly, getting a little carried away.

“Cool. Where are they?” he asked, flipping through the pages of the album.

“Oh, not in there. They’re up—” I halted, suddenly realizing that Opportunity was knocking loudly. I cleared my throat. “Upstairs. In my...room.” At this point, I could hardly talk. My throat was scratchy, and I felt like I was blinking too much. “Would you like to see them?”

Oh, god, am I really doing this? I wiped my palms against my hips, so distracted that I didn’t notice that Eunhyuk wasn’t the only one listening. Apparently, we had drawn the attention of Taemin and several others once we started talking about Pokémon.

“Sure,” he answered, waiting for me to lead the way.

“Uh...give me, like, ten minutes.”

“Um, sure?” He raised an eyebrow.

“My...uh...room’s a mess,” I stammered.

How I walked across the room to disappear into the stairwell, I still don’t know. Every move felt unnatural, like I’d never done it before.

Once I was out of view, I sprinted into my room and shut the door. Earlier, I had strategically placed some candles around the room, and I struggled now to light a match to get them started. All I accomplished were inept wisps of smoke.

The candles abandoned, I checked the time. I’d been up here four minutes already! He’d be here soon!

I undid my pants and worked on pulling them down with one foot as I yanked my top off over my head. Fairly shameless, I know. But I was worried that if I wasn’t completely forward, we’d actually end up looking at Pokémon cards. Not what I intended.

Clothes balled up and thrown in a corner, I began applying some body oil. Not so much that I’d end up feeling greasy; just enough to make my muscles stand out. Unfortunately, my hands were shaking so badly, I dropped the bottle, which proceeded to spill oil all over my floor. I righted the bottle and frantically began “scooping” up the oil and rubbing it on my arms and chest. This idea was going from bad to worse, and I eventually grabbed a towel out of my hamper, wiped off my hands, and threw it over the stain on my floor.

Next, I grabbed the K-Y out of my dresser drawer and sat it by my bed. (Yes, I’ve moved on from margarine.) I don’t want him thinking I’m inexperienced. I mean, I am, but I don’t want him thinking that.

Rapidly running out of time, I checked myself in the mirror. My hair looked OK. I’m not sure that I quite accomplished the body builder look with the oil, but my arms and abs looked alright, I guess. The image from the hips down was less astounding.

I gave myself a couple of quick jerks. Nothing. Come on, come on, I willed myself. You can hardly impress him with Flaccid Fred, here, can you? Geez, I was way too nervous. OK, stop thinking about yourself. Think about him. Undressing. Sliding that shirt off his shoulders. ing those jeans. That did it.

There was a knock at the door. “Hey, Jonghyun? You in there?”

I scrambled for a cool pose to strike. Lounging on the bed? Nah, too presumptuous. Bent over the bed? Geez, Jonghyun, that’s even worse. I caught a glimpse of my awkward reflection in the mirror, just as I heard the door opening. With no time left, I raised an arm to lean casually on the wall. And as the door opened fully, I made the erroneous decision to also grab my .

“Oh.”

Oh indeed. Eunhyuk’s mouth dropped open and his eyebrows shot up as he took in the scene displayed before him. Then his lips curled at the sides and I heard, albeit quiet, a breathy laugh emit from him.

The sound was quickly absorbed by the tramping of footsteps, and suddenly Eunhyuk was joined in the doorway by Taemin and five or six other party-goers trailing close behind him.

So, it turns out I do not have grace under pressure. In my mortification, I neither came up with a good excuse for the tableau that appeared before them, nor remedied it somewhat by grabbing a sheet to cover my shame and save a shred or two of dignity.

Eunhyuk spoke first. “Jonghyun, I’m...uh...sorry, we must have misunderstood each...” He looked apologetic. “I came...to see your...uh...”

“Pokémon cards,” finished Taemin. I expected him to burst out laughing, but actually he looked more astonished than anything. His mouth hung open, and he just stood there.

Eunhyuk chuckled. “I’ll...uh...catch you later, Jonghyun,” he said, turning and disappearing from the doorway, regrettably leaving more room for the people behind him to get a better view.

At first there were giggles of surprise. That was followed people shoving each other out of the way, a few rhetorical questions, and finally raucous laughter. Backs were slapped, fingers were pointed, “clever” jokes were made.

I could feel the blood rushing to my face—well, why not? Certainly my didn’t need it anymore. So I continued to stand there, my cheeks glowing like beacons while my manhood deflated and endeavoured to crawl inside me.

Although two spectators were curled up, laughing so hard they couldn’t breathe, the others had the brilliant idea to run downstairs to spread the word about the hilarity ensuing in my bedroom. It was the realization that I was just moments away from having even more witnesses that finally snapped me out of it. I strode forward and hurriedly closed and bolted the door, leaving Taemin and our moron schoolmates on the other side.

Later That Night, Still Hiding Out in the Hall of Shame

So, there it is. My attempt at avoiding an awkward first ended up as yet another mortifying experience in the Life of Kim Jonghyun.

And as much as I really don’t feel like facing anyone right now, I heard the last of the party-goers leave some time ago, and I really should check on Taemin. I haul myself out of bed and throw on some jeans and a t-shirt. As expected, Taemin’s still in the hall. He isn’t asleep, though; he’s just sitting on the hallway floor, his back against the wall.

He looks up as I open the door.

“Hey.” He gets to his feet. “You OK?”

I sigh. “I will be.”

“I’m really sorry, Jonghyun.” Taemin chews on his lip.

“Sorry? For what?”

“For bringing all those people with me. I really thought you were getting out your Pokémon cards.”

I shake my head. “There’s nothing to apologize for, Taemin. The whole dumb idea is totally on me.”

He looks unconvinced, and I consider giving him a hug, but something stops me. Taemin looks down and begins worrying a piece of carpet fuzz with his foot.

“Come on, Tae. I’ll walk you home.”

We go downstairs and don our coats and shoes and head out into the chilly night air. The two-block walk is pretty quiet and feels much longer than it actually is, despite the fact that we’re walking hurriedly. Neither of us really has much to say, and the only other noise comes from the occasional car passing by.

“You want to play GTA later?” Taemin asks, as we arrive at his door.

“Yeah, sure,” I reply, watching him head inside. He turns and gives me a little wave before closing the door.