That soldier.  He’d stayed there all night with me.  His was lolled off to the side, mouth open slightly.  I rolled my head from side to side.  The sickening cracking sound that came from my neck sent sparks of pain all the way down my spine.

                He looked kind of cute, sleeping like that.  He also looked uncomfortable.  I patted his shoulder lightly.  He didn’t even stir.

                “Hey…”  Oh, crap.  I don’t even know his name.  “Hey, Soldier,” I whispered, still shaking his shoulder.  Nothing.  I placed my hands on either side of his face and slowly righted his head.  He smacked his lips a few times and squeezed his eyes shut.  He moaned a little.

                “No…” he mumbled.

                “Soldier, wake up.  I bet you’re going to be in as much pain as me,” I told him.  I happened to glance at his uniform.  I knew the Korean alphabet, but I read like a kindergartener still.  I took in the characters on his name patch.  Lee...Seung...Ri?

                His eyes fluttered open.  I let go of his face.  His eyes took in the classroom and my appearance.  Recognition flashed through his dark brown eyes.  He smiled a little at me and sat up some.  He arched his back and rubbed his neck.  “Morning,” he said, cracking his neck.

                “You must be in so much pain.  I’m sorry.”

                He yawned and stretched his arms over his head.  “No, it’s cool.  Just a little stiff.”

                “You stayed with me all night,” I said, feeling my face flush with color.

                He chuckled a little.  “You cried most of the night.”

                “I’m sorry.  I hope you don’t get in trouble for disappearing.”

                “Nah,” he shrugged and looked at his watch.  “As of 2AM last night, I was officially off duty for 48 hours.”

                “You stayed with me here when you weren’t even on duty?” I asked incredulously.

                He shrugged again, but didn’t say anything.

                “Thank you.”

                He smiled at me and shrugged, but this time something popped in his neck causing him to lean forward and clutch at his neck.  “Ow…” he whined.

                I sat up, alert.  “Oh man, I bet your neck is all messed up from sleeping like that for so long.  Wait, I bet I can help.  I…”  I thought of lying to him and saying that someone taught me this, but I changed my mind.  “I saw this work in a movie once.”

                He laughed, but stayed doubled over in pain.  I tugged his arm so he’d move forward a little and slid behind him.  Between his back and the wall.  I bent my legs on either side of him, holding him in place with my knees.  I used the heels of my hand to press into the base of his neck.  I put pressure onto the sides of his neck, massaging the muscle there.  The moan he let out made me think this would actually work.  “Supposedly this will help loosen everything up and then when you crack your neck again, it won’t hurt as much.  You’ll feel less pressure.  Supposedly,” I repeated.

                His head rolled back, blocking my hands.  His eyes were closed.  He moaned again.

                I could feel my face burning red with embarrassment.  “Stop making those noises,” I whispered, pushing his head up so I could keep working on the base of his neck.  “Someone is going to think something against regulations is going on in here.”

                “Ahh…” he moaned again.  “Sorry, but it feels good.  Ow, right there.  Ow, ow.”

                “Sorry.  You have a knot in your muscle here,” I said kneading my knuckles into his muscle.  He let out a muffled moan.  I laughed, feeling more at ease.  “Ok,” I said patting his shoulders.  “Try cracking your neck now.  A good crack and the pressure should release.”

                He straightened his neck and then rolled his head in a circle.  His neck let out tiny cracks and pops.  He moaned again.  “Ah, yeah, feels good now.”  He rolled his head back and forth, shaking out his shoulders.  “Wow, thanks.”  He turned his head a little to smile at me.  “Come, sit here.  I’ll do you now.”

                I gasped and coughed.  “I…what?”

                His English was good, but I don’t think he caught how that sounded.  He looked at me with concern on his face.  “Sit here,” he repeated patting the space in front of him.  “Doesn’t your neck hurt, too?”

                “Oh,” I sounded.  “Yeah, a little.”

                He shifted a little to the side so that I would move.  He helped guide me to sit in front of him, his legs how my legs were.  I felt uncomfortable sitting between his legs like this.  He didn’t seem to notice anything was awkward about this situation.  He stretched out his arms and cracked his knuckles as if he were getting ready to play a really difficult piece on the piano.  He wiggled his fingers before getting to work on the base of my neck.  I moaned before I could catch myself.  I clamped my hand over my mouth and he laughed.  “Feels good, right?  I told you.”  I bit down on my lip and focused on not making any noises.  “I’m Lee Seung Ri, by the way,” he said after a moment of working magic on my stiff muscles.  I kept my head forward, chin to my chest, eyes on my hands in my lap.  Ah, so I was right.

                “I’m Nikki,” I replied.  Seung Ri?  Seung Ri.  That sounded like a Korean word I’d learned.  Seung Ri.  I kept saying his name over and over in my head.  “Does your name mean something?” I finally asked when I couldn’t figure it out.

                He chuckled and began massaging my shoulders.  Ooh, that felt good.  I chewed the inside of my cheek.

                “It means victory,” he answered with another laugh.  “It’s weird, I know.”

                “Your parents actually named you victory?”

                “I told you it was weird,” he sighed, moving his hands back to my neck.  “I guess they wanted me to do something good with my life.”  He sighed again.  “Not doing such a fantastic job of that so far,” he mumbled.

                “How old are you?”

                “Nineteen.”  He was a year younger than me.

                “You have time,” I replied.  He made a quick humming noise, but said nothing.  Then, something occurred to me that made me laugh a little.  “You know something?”

                “Hm?” he sounded.  He began using his thumbs to press into the base of my neck.  Goosebumps appeared down my arms.

                “My name is Nicola.  It’s French.  I read somewhere some years ago that it means ‘victory of the people.’”

                He laughed.  “Sounds like you have a stressful name, too.  Maybe your parents wanted you to be victorious for the people of your country.  Mine only wanted me to do something good for myself.  They didn’t have high standards for me,” he joked.

                I smiled a faded smile.  Letting out a sigh, I leaned back against his chest, closing the distance between our bodies and forcing him to stop massaging my shoulders.  He let his arms fall to his sides.  My head came to rest next to his neck.  He pushed some hair behind my ear.

                “My parents don’t have any standards for me,” I said in a hushed tone.  I closed my eyes and relaxed against him.

                He stayed silent for a minute.  “Are you mad at them?  Is that why you didn’t call them?” he wondered quietly.  I swallowed.  “I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t be prying.”

                “No, it’s alright,” I said.  I put my hands on his thighs and pushed myself up and curled onto my side, placing my cheek over his collar bone.  I knew it wasn’t real or anything, but I liked the comforting feeling I got from being close to him.  “My parents weren’t ever really around when I was growing up.  Too busy in their own lives to remember they had a daughter.  I went off to college and I think they forgot about me completely.  They would talk to me if I called, but if I didn’t, they didn’t.”  I shrugged.  I was slightly embarrassed at my lack of emotion when I talked about them.  Shouldn’t I feel sorry?  Regret?  Longing?  I felt nothing.  “I don’t even think they know I’m here in Korea.”

                He smoothed his hand down my hair, letting it rest on my back between my shoulder blades.  “I’m sorry,” was all he said.

                “What about your parents?” I asked, turning the conversation on him.

                “I get along with them.  You know all Korean males must do two years military service, right?”  I nodded.  I’d heard that before.  “Well, they wanted me to go to college before I did my military duty, but I’ve always kind of hated school, so after I graduated high school…”  He paused and laughed somewhat sarcastically.  “Barely graduated high school.  I just signed up to do my two years right away.”

                “Do you see them often now that you’re doing your duty?”

                “No.  I’m from Gwangju.  It’s almost all the way down south, near the bottom of the country, you know?”  I nodded.  I didn’t really, but I wanted him to keep talking.  “It’s very far, so I don’t see them.  I won’t see them probably until my service is up.”

                “You must miss them.”

                He sighed.  “Yes, I do miss them sometimes.”

                “Do you have any siblings?” I wondered after a minute.

                “No.  It’s just me.  Do you?”

                “No, I don’t have any.”  I began thinking of other things I didn’t know about him.  The list was quite long obviously, but it felt good to talk about something other than the chaos that was unfolding in the country.

                “Did you leave a boyfriend back home in America?” he questioned.  He picked up, running his fingers down my hair.  It was a soothing, comforting gesture.

                “No, there’s no one.  Do you have a girlfriend waiting for you back home?”

                His fingers froze in my hair.  “Yes,” he answered quietly.