CHAPTER 7

After he’s gone, I shower and stretch out on my bed and just smile up at my ceiling fan as the morning light intensifies. I thought I would feel dirty and guilty and gross after this, but I don’t. If anything I feel like I just won a race I didn’t even know I’d entered. Everything feels new and exciting, and nothing feels bad. I can’t focus, I can’t function, I can’t think…not about anything other than Kyuhyun, at least, and what we just did. I think of his brown doe eyes, his inked shoulder, his cool clothes, his low voice, his electrified smile, his messy brown hair, the way he made me feel like it was washed clean and struck by lightning in the same rainstorm. Two days ago I’d never been interested in another guy in my life, and now Cho Kyuhyun is becoming the light in my eyes. But I’m not going to question it…I am going to give myself to this joy, wherever it leads me.

Before I step into the shower, a text makes my phone ping:

Two things: I had the time of my life with you. Also: if you think I’m not going to use your contacts to meet Lady Gaga one day, you’re ing nuts.

A smile that is too big for my face cracks my lips in half. A disco ball is exploding around me, and I am getting lost in the lights.

After suffering through my first class, my best friend Kangin texts me, wanting to get coffee. I grow more and more nervous as I approach the Starbucks on the Main Avenue. Everything with Kyuhyun flashes through my mind in a strange, distant, hazy montage, and sometimes I wonder if it even happened. But the messages on my phone are real, along with the one I just got saying I kinda like you. Okay, not kinda like you, I definitely like you. But I don’t respond, even if it makes me giddy to read. I need time to adjust. I don’t feel bad about what we did, but still: it makes no sense, and besides, Kangin is as straight as can be. How will I ever approach this subject with him?

He keeps wanting to talk about the latest baseball game, but I fend off the conversation. The first thing he does after we get our coffees and sit down is look over at me like my clothes are on fire.

“Dude - he asks incredulously - Do you have a hickey? I haven’t gotten one of those since we were in Mrs. Lee’s sixth grade homeroom class together.”

I try not to let the horror show on my face as I take out my phone and stare at the reflection of the violet marks blooming north of my collarbone. How the did I let him do that? I didn’t even let girls do that…

“Seriously, what’s the deal? - he asks with a wink - Did you hang out with Liu again? Go back to the old ex, eh?”

I look away. I don’t want to talk about her at all for some reason.

“Nope - I say as I slide my phone away again - I got…a shot. On my neck.”

“Um. Okay.”

He’s still looking at me.

“What?”

“Nothing at all. Anyway, what’s new?”

We talk about our assignments for a second, but I’m distracted.

“Hey - I interrupt as he’s ranting about Professor Lee Minho - Got a question for you.”

“Yeah?”

I can’t believe I’m asking him this, but I feel more comfortable around him than anyone. The fact that he’s extremely tolerant also helps a little.

“Well…have you ever…I know you have a girlfriend. But have you ever looked at a guy, instead of a girl?”

He leans back. He doesn’t look suspicious, just confused.

“Nah. Don’t think so. Why?”

“I don’t know, I’m doing…a project, for Dr. Han’s class, and I’m supposed to study mating habits. It seems like everybody’s got a story from summer camp or whatever, and so I was curious…”

He bites his lip.

“Well.”

“What?”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but remember Hwa Joong, that kid from our science class in middle school?”

I nod.

“I don’t really know why, but we used to sleep in my bed together when he’d stay the night. We never did anything, but yeah…he always just slept with me - He shakes his head - But no, nothing against gays, but you know I’ve always been straight. Is this because of…”

“Because of what?”

He glances over my shoulder, then plays with his cuticle.

“Nothing, it’s just…did I see you outside your house with that one kid? The one who wears eyeliner? ‘Prettier than girls,’ as people call him?”

I grip the table.

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