Monday night’s date met my every expectation. We ate Chinese food while I giggled at Donghae’s skills with chopsticks. When he brought me home, Jiyong opened the door before he could kiss me. When we went out the following Wednesday night, Donghae made sure to kiss me in the car.

Thursday at lunch, Donghae met me in the cafeteria and surprised everyone when he sat in Jiyong’s spot. When Jiyong finished his cigarette and came inside, he walked past Donghae with indifference, sitting at the end of the table. Tiffany approached him but was instantly disappointed when he waved her off. Everyone at the table was quiet after that, and I found it difficult to focus on anything Donghae talked about.

“I’m assuming I just wasn’t invited,” Donghae said, catching my attention.

“What?”

“I heard your birthday party is on Sunday. I wasn’t invited?”

Bom peeked at Jiyong, who glared at Donghae as if he was seconds away from mowing him down.

“It was a surprise party, Donghae,” Bom said softly.

 “Oh,” Donghae said, cringing.

“You’re throwing me a surprise party?” I asked Bom.

She shrugged. “It was Jiyong’s idea. It’s at Siwon’s on Sunday. Six o’clock.”

Donghae’s cheeks flushed a faint red. “I suppose I’m really not invited, now.”

“No! Of course you are!” I said, holding his hand on top of the table. Twelve pairs of eyes zeroed in on our hands. I could see that Donghae was just as uncomfortable with the attention as I was, so I let go and pulled my hands onto my lap.

 Donghae stood up. “I have a few things I need to do before class. I’ll call you later.”

 “Okay,” I said, offering an apologetic smile.

Donghae leaned over the table and kissed my lips. The silence was cafeteria-wide, and Bom elbowed me after Donghae walked out.

“Isn’t it creepy how everyone watches you?” she whispered. She glanced around the room with a frown. “What?” Bom yelled. “Mind your business, erts!” One by one, heads turned away, and murmuring ensued.

 I covered my eyes with my hands. “You know, before I was pathetic because I was thought to be Jiyong’s poor clueless girlfriend. Now I’m evil because everyone thinks I’m bouncing back and forth between Jiyong and Donghae like a Ping-Pong ball.” When Bom didn’t comment, I looked up. “What? Don’t tell me you’re buying into that crap, too!”

“I didn’t say anything!” she said.

 I stared at her in disbelief. “But that’s what you think?”

Bom  shook her head, but she didn’t speak. The icy stares from the other students were suddenly apparent, and I stood up, walking to the end of the table.

“We need to talk,” I said, tapping Jiyong’s shoulder. I tried to sound polite, but the anger bubbling inside me put an edge to my words. The entire student populace, including my best friend, thought I was juggling two men. There was only one solution.

 “So talk,” Jiyong said, popping something breaded and fried into his mouth.

I fidgeted, noticing the curious eyes of everyone within earshot. When Jiyong still didn’t move, I grabbed his arm and gave it a good tug. He stood up and followed me outside with a grin on his face.

 “What, Butterfly?” he said, looking at my hand on his arm and then at me.

 “You’ve got to let me out of the bet,” I begged.

 His face fell. “You want to leave? Why? What’d I do?”

 “You didn’t do anything, Ji. Haven’t you noticed everyone staring? I am quickly becoming the pariah of Seoul U.”

 Jiyong shook his head and lit a cigarette. “Not my problem.”

 “Yes, it is. Donghae said everyone thinks he has a death wish because you’re in love with me.”

 Jiyong’s eyebrows shot up and he choked on the puff of smoke he’d just inhaled. “People are saying that?” he said between coughs.

 I nodded. He looked away with wide eyes, taking another drag.

 “Jiyong! You have to release me from the bet! I can’t date Donghae and live with you at the same time. It looks terrible!”

 “So quit dating Donghae.”

 I glared at him. “That’s not the problem and you know it.”

 “Is that the only reason you want to leave? Because of what people are saying?”

 “At least before I was clueless and you were the bad guy,” I grumbled.

 “Answer the question, Butterfly.”

 “Yes!”

 Jiyong looked beyond me to the students entering and leaving the cafeteria. He was deliberating, and I grew impatient while he took his time making his decision.

 Finally, he stood tall, resolved. “No.”

 I shook my head, sure that I had misunderstood. “Excuse me?”

 “No. You said so yourself: A bet’s a bet. After the month’s up, you’ll be off with Donghae, he’ll become a doctor, you’ll get married and have your 2.5 children and I’ll never see you again.” He grimaced at his own words. “I still have three weeks. I’m not giving that up for lunchroom gossip.”

 I looked through the glass window to see the entire cafeteria watching us. The unwelcome attention made my eyes burn. I shouldered past him to walk to my next class.

 “Butterfly,” Jiyong called after me.

 I didn’t turn around.

 That night, Bom sat on the tile floor of the bathroom, babbling about the boys while I stood in front of the mirror and pulled my hair into a ponytail. I was only half listening, thinking about how patient Jiyong had been—for Jiyong—knowing he didn’t like the idea of Donghae picking me up from his apartment every other night.

 The expression on Jiyong’s face when I asked him to let me out of the bet, and again when I told him people were saying he was in love with me, flashed in my mind. I couldn’t stop wondering why he didn’t deny it.

 “Well, Top thinks you’re being too hard on him. He’s never had anyone he’s cared enough to—”

 Jiyong poked his head in and smiled as he watched me fuss with my hair. “Wanna grab dinner?” he asked.

 Bom stood up to look at herself in the mirror, combing her fingers through her Red hair. “Top wants to check out that new Mexican place downtown if you guys wanna go.”

 Jiyong shook his head. “I thought me and Butterfly could go alone tonight.”

 “I’m going out with Donghae.”

 “Again?” he said, annoyed.

 “Again,” I said in a singsong voice.

 The doorbell rang, and I hurried past Jiyong to open the door. Donghae stood in front of me, his naturally wavy hair sitting atop his clean-shaven face.

 “Do you ever look less than gorgeous?” Donghae asked.

 “Based on the first time she came over here, I’m going to say yes,” Jiyong said from behind me.

 I rolled my eyes and smiled, holding up a finger to Donghae to signal him to wait. I turned and threw my arms around Jiyong. He stiffened with surprise and then relaxed, pulling me tight against him.

 I looked into his eyes and smiled. “Thanks for organizing my birthday party. Can I take a rain check on dinner?”

 A dozen emotions scrolled across Jiyong’s face, and then the corners of his mouth turned up. “Tomorrow?”

 I squeezed him and grinned. “Absolutely.” I waved to him as Donghae grabbed my hand.

 “What was that about?” Donghae asked.

 “We haven’t been getting along lately. That was my version of an olive branch.”

 “Should I be worried?” he asked, opening my door.

 “No.” I kissed his cheek.

 At dinner, Donghae talked about Harvard, and the House, and his plans to search for an apartment. His eyebrows pulled in. “Will Jiyong be escorting you to your birthday party?”

 “I’m not really sure. He hasn’t said anything about it.”

 “If he doesn’t mind, I’d like to take you.” He took my hand in his and kissed my fingers.

 “I’ll ask him. The party was his idea, so …”

 “I understand. If not, I’ll just see you there,” he smiled.

 Donghae took me to the apartment, slowing to a stop in the parking lot. When he kissed me goodbye, his lips lingered on mine. He yanked up the parking brake as his lips traveled along the ridge of my jaw to my ear and then halfway down my neck. It took me off-guard, and I let out a quiet sigh in response.

 “You are so beautiful,” he whispered. “I’ve been distracted all night, with your hair pulled away from your neck.” He peppered my neck with kisses and I exhaled, a hum escaping with my breath.

 “What took you so long?” I smiled, lifting my chin to give him better access.

 Donghae focused on my lips. He grabbed each side of my face, kissing me a bit firmer than usual. We didn’t have much room in the car, but we made the space available work to our advantage. He leaned against me, and I bent my knee as I fell against the window. His tongue slipped inside my mouth, and his hand grabbed my ankle and then slid up my leg to my thigh. The windows fogged within minutes with our labored breaths sticking to the cool windows. His lips grazed my collarbone, and then his head jerked up when the glass vibrated with several loud thumps.

 Donghae sat up, and I righted myself, adjusting my dress. I jumped when the door flew open. Jiyong and Bom stood beside the car. Bom wore a sympathetic frown, and Jiyong seemed just short of flying into a blind rage.

 “What the hell, Jiyong?” Donghae yelled.

 The situation suddenly felt dangerous. I’d never heard Donghae raise his voice, Jiyong’s knuckles were white as he balled them into fists at his sides—and I was in the way. Bom’s hand seemed tiny when she placed it on Jiyong’s arm, shaking her head at Donghae in silent warning.

 “C’mon, Dara. I need to talk to you,” she said.

 “About what?”

 “Just come on!” she snapped.

 I looked to Donghae, seeing the irritation in his eyes. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”

 “No, it’s fine. Go ahead.”

 Jiyong helped me from the Porsche and then kicked the door shut. I flipped around and stood between him and the car, shoving his shoulder. “What is wrong with you? Knock it off!”

 Bom seemed nervous. It didn’t take long to figure out why. Jiyong reeked of whiskey; she had insisted on accompanying him, or he’d asked her to come. Either way she was a deterrent to violence.

 The wheels of Donghae’s shiny Porsche squealed out of the parking lot, and Jiyong lit a cigarette. “You can go in, now, Bom.”

 She tugged on my skirt. “C’mon, Dara.”

 “Why don’t you stay, Dee,” he seethed.

 I nodded for Bom to go ahead and she reluctantly complied. I crossed my arms, ready for a fight, preparing myself to lash out at him after the inevitable lecture. Jiyong took several drags from his cigarette, and when it was obvious that he wasn’t going to explain, my patience ran out.

 “Why did you do that?” I asked.

 “Why? Because he was mauling you in front of my apartment!” he yelled. His eyes were unfocused, and I could see that he was incapable of rational conversation.

 I kept my voice calm. “I may be staying with you, but what I do and who I do it with is my business.”

 He flicked his cigarette to the ground. “You’r