9

“Kyungsoo knows we went to the cafe together this morning.”

We had reconvened the same way we separated earlier, me through the old buildings and Jongin on the lookout for potential witnesses. I couldn’t suppress the comparisons that generated at the sight of him waiting to pick me up in his BMW. Then I imagined his reaction to being likened to an Uber driver, and it became even harder to stifle my giggles as I walked over to the car. Of course, all that humor has now left me upon the troubling news he has just broken.

I say that, but in reality, he does not appear as bothered by the matter as expected. In fact, I may be unsettled more because he is not than because our secret might be exposed already.

“What are you going to do?” I ask. We had established that we would confer with each other before revealing to the truth to anyone else, but I did not actually expect then for Jongin to comply.

He shrugs and says, “That’s why I’m telling you. What do you think I should do?” His eyes remain on the road for the most part, but I notice his quick glimpse to the side. Asking me for my opinion is really just an act of common decency, but I’m a little touched by his consideration nevertheless.

Without much pause, I reply, “If you think he’s trustworthy, you can tell him.” This is one of nine answers I’ve been practicing ever since we created the rules. But I suppose it’s the fact that I consented so easily to the idea he had been dancing around that surprises him so. “I’m kind of ready for you to tell your whole gang, to be honest.”

“Why?”

I hold back a scoff. “It’s pretty well-known how ‘tight’ you guys are.” If a day went by in our school that someone didn’t remark on Kim Jongin’s many bromances within his social group, that day d