“He’s definitely staring at you,” Bom whispered, leaning back to peek across the room.

 

 “Stop looking, dummy, he’s going to see you.”

 

 Bom smiled and waved. “He’s already seen me. He’s still staring.”

 

 I hesitated for a moment and then finally worked up enough courage to look in his direction. Donghae was looking right at me, grinning.

 

 I returned his smile and then pretended to type something on my laptop.

 

 “Is he still staring?” I murmured.

 

 “Yep,” she giggled.

 

 After class, Donghae stopped me in the hall.

 

 “Don’t forget about the party this weekend.”

 

 “I won’t,” I said, trying not to bat my eyes or do anything else ridiculous.

 

 Bom and I made our way across the lawn to the cafeteria to meet Jiyong and Top for lunch. She was still laughing about Donghae’s behavior when Top and Jiyong approached.

 

 “Hey, baby,” Bom said, kissing her boyfriend square on the mouth.

 

 “What’s so funny?” Top asked.

 

 “Oh, a guy in class was staring at Dara all hour. It was adorable.”

 

 “As long as he was staring at Dara,” Top winked.

 

 “Who was it?” Jiyong grimaced.

 

 I readjusted my backpack, prompting Jiyong to slide it off my arms and hold it. I shook my head. “Bommie’s  imagining things.”

 

 “Dara! You big fat liar! It was Lee Donghae, and he was being so obvious. The guy was practically drooling.”

 

 Jiyong’s expression twisted into disgust. “Lee Donghae?”

 

 Top pulled on Bom’s hand. “We’re headed to lunch. Will you be enjoying the fine cafeteria cuisine this afternoon?”

 

 Bom kissed him again in answer, and Jiyong and I followed behind. I sat my tray between Bom and Kwanghee, but Jiyong didn’t sit in his normal seat across from me. Instead, he sat a few seats down. It was then that I realized he hadn’t said much during our walk to the cafeteria.

 

 “Are you okay, ji?” I asked.

 

 “Me? Fine, why?” he said, smoothing the features of his face.

 

 “You’ve just been quiet.”

 

 Several members of the football team approached the table and sat down, laughing loudly. Jiyong looked a bit annoyed as he rolled his food around on his plate.

 

 Lee Seungri tossed a french fry onto Jiyong’s plate. “What’s up, Ji? I heard you bagged Choi Sulli. She’s been raking your name through the mud today.”

 

 “Shut up, Lee,” Jiyong said, keeping his eyes on his food.

 

 I leaned forward so the brawny giant sitting in front of Jiyongcould experience the full force of my glare. “Knock it off, Seungri.”

 

 Jiyong’s eyes bored into mine. “I can take care of myself, Dara.”

 

 “I’m sorry, I …”

 

 “I don’t want you to be sorry. I don’t want you to be anything,” he snapped, shoving away from the table and storming out the door.

 

 Kwanghee looked over at me with raised eyebrows. “Whoa. What was that about?”

 

 I stabbed a Tater Tot with my fork and puffed. “I don’t know.”

 

 Top patted my back. “It’s nothing you did, Dara.”

 

 “He just has stuff going on,” Bom added.

 

 “What kind of stuff?” I asked.

 

 Top shrugged and turned his attention to his plate. “You should know by now that it takes patience and a forgiving attitude to be friends with Jiyong. He’s his own universe.”

 

 I shook my head. “That’s the Jiyong everyone else sees … not the Jiyong I know.”

 

Top  leaned forward. “There’s no difference. You just have to ride the wave.”

 

 After class, I rode with Bom to the apartment to find Jiyong’s motorcycle gone. I went into his room and curled into a ball on his bed, resting my head on my arm. Jiyong had been fine that morning. As much time as we had spent together, I couldn’t believe I didn’t see that something had been bothering him. Not only that, it disturbed me that Bom seemed to know what was going on and I didn’t.

 

 My breathing evened out and my eyes grew heavy; it wasn’t long before I fell asleep. When my eyes opened again, the night sky had darkened the window. Muffled voices filtered down the hall from the living room, including Jiyong’s deep tone. I crept down the hall, and then froze when I heard my name.

 

 “Dara gets it, Ji. Don’t beat yourself up,” Top said.

 

 “You’re already going to the date party. What’s the harm in asking her out?” Bom asked.

 

 I stiffened, waiting for his response. “I don’t want to date her; I just want to be around her. She’s … different.”

 

 “Different how?” Bom asked, sounding irritated.

 

“She doesn’t put up with my bull, it’s refreshing. You said it yourself, Bom. I’m not her type. It’s just not … like that with us.”

 

 “You’re closer to her type than you know,” Bom said.

 

 I backed up as quietly as I could, and when the wooden boards creaked beneath my bare feet, I reached over to pull Jiyong’s bedroom door shut, and then walked down the hall.

 

 “Hey, Dara,” Bom said with a grin. “How was your nap?”

 

 “I was out for five hours. That’s closer to a coma than a nap.”

 

 Jiyong stared at me for a moment, and when I smiled at him, he walked straight toward me, grabbed my hand, and pulled me down the hall to his bedroom. He shut the door, and I felt my heart pounding in my chest, bracing for him to say something else to crush my ego.

 

 His eyebrows pulled in. “I’m so sorry, Butterfly . I was an to you earlier.”

 

 I relaxed a bit, seeing the remorse in his eyes. “I didn’t know you were mad at me.”

 

 “I wasn’t mad at you. I just have a bad habit of lashing out at those I care about. It’s a piss-poor excuse, I know, but I am sorry,” he said, enveloping me in his arms.

 

 I nestled my cheek against his chest, settling in. “What were you mad about?”

 

 “It’s not important. The only thing I’m worried about is you.”

 

 I leaned back to look up at him. “I can handle your temper tantrums.”

 

 His eyes scanned my face for several moments before a small smile spread across his lips. “I don’t know why you put up with me, and I don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t.”

 

 I could smell the mixture of cigarettes and mint on his breath, and I looked at his lips, my body reacting to how close we were. Jiyong’s expression changed and his breathing staggered—he had noticed, too.

 

 He leaned in infinitesimally, and then we both jumped when his cell phone rang. He sighed, pulling it from his pocket.

 

 “Yeah. Kim? Jesus … all right. That’ll be an easy grand. Jefferson?” He looked at me and winked. “We’ll be there.” He hung up and took my hand. “Come with me.” He pulled me down the hall. “That was Daesung,” he said to Top. “Kim Junsu will be at Jefferson in ninety minutes.”

 

 Top nodded and stood up, digging his cell phone from his pocket. He quickly tapped in the information, sending exclusive text invitations to those who knew about the Circle. Those ten or so members would text ten members on their list, and so on, until the every member knew exactly where the floating fight ring would be held.

 

 “Here we go,” Bom said, smiling. “We’d better freshen up!”

 

 The air in the apartment was tense and buoyant at the same time. Jiyong seemed the least affected, slipping on his boots and a white tank top as if he were leaving to run an errand.

 

 Bom led me down the hall to Jiyong’s bedroom and frowned. “You have to change, Dara. You can’t wear that to the fight.”

 

 “I wore a freaking cardigan last time and you didn’t say anything!” I protested.

 

 “I didn’t think you’d go last time. Here,” she threw clothes at me, “put this on.”

 

 “I am not wearing this!”

 

 “Let’s go!” Top called from the living room.

 

 “Hurry up!” Bom snapped, running into Top’s room.

 

 I pulled on the deep-cut yellow halter top and tight low-rise jeans Bom had thrown at me, and then slipped on a pair of heels, raking a brush through my hair as I shuffled down the hall. Bom came out of her room with a short green baby-doll dress and matching heels, and when we rounded the corner, Jiyong and Top were standing at the door.

 

 Jiyong’s mouth fell open. “Oh, hell no. Are you trying to get me killed? You’ve gotta change, Butterfly .”

 

 “What?” I asked, looking down.

 

 Bom grabbed her hips. “She looks cute, Ji, leave her alone!”

 

 Jiyong took my hand and led me down the hall. “Get a T-shirt on … and some sneakers. Something comfortable.”

 

 “What? Why?”

 

 “Because I’ll be more worried about who’s looking at your in that shirt instead of Kim,” he said, stopping at his door.

 

 “I thought you said you didn’t give a damn what anyone else thought?”

 

 “That’s a different scenario, Butterfly .” Jiyong looked down at my chest and then up at me. “You can’t wear this to the fight, so please … just … please just change,” he stuttered, shoving me into the room and shutting me in.

 

 “Jiyong!” I yelled. I kicked off my heels, and shoved my feet into my Converses. Then I wiggled out of my halter top, throwing it across the room. The first cotton shirt that touched my hands I yanked over my head, and then ran down the hall, standing in the doorway.

 

 “Better?” I huffed, pulling my hair into a ponytail.

 

 “Yes!” Jiyong said, relieved. “Let’s go!”

 

 We raced to the parking lot. I jumped on the back of Jiyong’s motorcycle as he ripped the engine and peeled out, flying down the road to the college. I squeezed his middle in anticipation; the rushing to get out the door sent adrenaline surging through my veins.

 

 Jiyong drove over the curb, parking his motorcycle in the shadows behind the Jefferson Liberal Arts building. He pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head and then grabbed my hand, smiling as we snuck to the back of the building. He stopped at an open window near the ground.

 

 My eyes widened with realization. “You’re joking.”

 

 Jiyong smiled. “This is the VIP entrance. You should see how everyone else gets in.”

 

 I shook my head as he worked his legs through, and then disappeared. I leaned down and called into oblivion, “Jiyong!”

 

 “Down here, Butterfly . Just come in feet first, I’ll catch you.”

 

 “You’re out of your damn mind if you think I’m jumping into the dark!”

 

 “I’ll catch you! I promise! Now get your in here!”

 

 I sighed, touching my forehead with my hand. “This is insane!”

 

 I sat down, and then scooted forward until half of my body was dangling in the dark. I to my stomach and pointed my toes, feeling for the floor. I waited for my feet to touch Jiyong’s hand, but I lost my grip, squealing when I fell backward. A pair of hands grabbed me, and I heard Jiyong’s voice in the darkness.

 

 “You fall like a girl,” he chuckled.

 

 He lowered my feet to the ground and then pulled me deeper into the blackness. After a dozen steps, I could hear the familiar yelling of numbers and names, and then the room was illuminated. A lantern sat in the corner, lighting the room just enough that I could make out Jiyong’s face.

 

 “What are we doing?”

 

 “Waiting. Daesung has to run through his spiel before I go in.”

 

 I fidgeted. “Should I wait here, or should I go in? Where do I go when the fight starts? Where’s Top and Bommie?”

 

 “They went in the other way. Just follow me out, I’m not sending you into that shark pit without me. Stay by Daesung; he’ll keep you from getting crushed. I can’t look out for you and throw punches at the same time.”

 

 “Crushed?”

 

 “There’s going to be more people here tonight. Kim Junsu is from State. They have their own Circle there. It will be our crowd and their crowd, so the room’s gonna get crazy.”

 

 “Are you nervous?” I asked.

 

 He smiled, looking down at me. “No. You look a little nervous, though.”

 

 “Maybe,” I admitted.

 

 “If it’ll make you feel better, I won’t let him touch me. I won’t even let him get one in for his fans.”

 

 “How are you going to manage that?”

 

 He shrugged. “I usually let them get one in—to make it look fair.”

 

 “You …? You let people hit you?”

 

 “How much fun would it be if I just massacred someone and they never got a punch in? It’s not good for business, no one would bet against me.”

 

 “What a load of crap,” I said, crossing my arms.

 

 Jiyong raised an eyebrow. “You think I’m yankin’ your chain?”

 

 “I find it hard to believe that you only get hit when you let them hit you.”

 

 “Would you like to make a wager on that, Dara Park?” he smiled, his eyes animated.

 

 I smiled. “I’ll take that bet. I think he’ll get one in on you.”

 

 “And if he doesn’t? What do I win?” he asked. I shrugged as the yelling on the other side of the wall grew to a roar. Daesung greeted the crowd, and then went over the rules.

 

 Jiyong’s mouth stretched into a wide grin. “If you win, I’ll go without for a month.” I raised an eyebrow and he smiled again. “But if I win, you have to stay with me for a month.”

 

 “What? I’m staying with you, anyway! What kind of bet is that?” I shrieked over the noise.

 

 “They fixed the boilers at Morgan today,” Jiyong said with a smile and a wink.

 

 A smirk softened my expression as Daesung called Jiyong’s name. “Anything is worth watching you try abstinence for a change.”

 

 Jiyong kissed my cheek, and then walked out, standing tall. I followed behind, and when we crossed into the next room, I was startled by the number of people packed together in the small space. It was standing room only, but the shoving and shouting only amplified once we entered the room. Jiyong nodded in my direction, and then Daesung’s hand was on my shoulders, pulling me to his side.

 

 I leaned into Daesung’s ear. “I’ve got two on Jiyong,” I said.

 

 Daesung’s eyebrows shot up as he watched me pull two Benjamins from my pocket. He held out his palm, and I slapped the bills into his hand.

 

 “You’re not the Goody Two-shoes I thought you were,” he said, giving me a once-over.

 

 Junsu was at least a head taller than Jiyong, and I gulped when I saw them stand toe to toe. Junsu was massive, twice Jiyong’s size and solid muscle. I couldn’t see Jiyong’s expression, but it was obvious that Junsu was out for blood.

 

 Daesung pressed his lips against my ear. “You might want to plug your ears, kidd