I sprung out of bed and all but bounced toward the window.  I peeked down and saw Ji Ho below, waving excitedly up at me.  I flung open the window.

                “Scale it,” I dared him.

                He jutted out his lower lip.  “I had practice after school today.  All those pull ups,” he whined, rubbing his right shoulder.  He grinned up at me.  “Can’t you come let me in?”

                Like I was going to say no to him…ever.

                “Come up stairs.  I’ll let you in,” I told him.  He saluted me and darted over to the front entrance of my building and disappeared.

                I crept out of my bedroom.  In the pitch blackness of the hallway, I passed the bathroom and went down the stairs silently.  I tip toed past my parents’ bedroom door.  It was open slightly.  I could hear my dad snoring and the soft sounds from the TV meaning my mom had fallen asleep watching something.

                By the time I pushed open the front door, Ji Ho was sprinting down the hall towards me from the exit to the stairs by the elevator.

                He grabbed my hand and let me yank him into the apartment.  He slipped off his shoes as I locked back up.  Taking his hand again, we retraced my steps soundlessly back up to my room.

                His sneakers tumbled to the side near my desk when he let go of them.  I closed my bedroom door with a hushed click.  He stretched his long arms over his head and groaned.

                “What did you do tonight?” I asked, leaning against the edge of my desk.  He belly flopped onto my bed and began surfing channels on my TV.  He stopped at a Korean music video show.  “Where did you take Soo Rin?”  His flavor of the week.

                “We met up with some of the guys from soccer and their girls.  We had dinner and went to no rae bang,” he answered, bobbing his head to the music of some girl group on the screen.  He pushed the remote to the side of the bed and rested his chin in his hand to look at me.  Scrunching his nose, “She’s a bad singer,” he laughed.

                “Oh well, then,” I jutted my thumb toward the door, “Kick her to the curb.  Bad singer?  That’s just unforgiveable,” I sighed sarcastically.

                He continued to laugh.  I always really liked his laugh and his deep voice and…

                “It was fun though, I guess.  I walked her home and we made out hidden in an alley behind her place.”  He smirked and let his head fall to my mattress.

                “Totally makes up for the bad singing,” I replied with a nod.

                “Totally,” he agreed, the word muffled by my comforter.

                “Dani,” he whimpered.  I smiled at his nick name for me.  My parents and friends call me Jo sometimes, but he’s the only one who turned Jordan into Dani.  He began pounding his fist against his shoulder blade.  “Coach almost killed us today.  Rub my back?” he asked.

                “Rub your own back,” I teased, my fingers already itching to touch him.

                I could almost hear him pouting.  He flailed his arms and legs out like a toddler having a temper tantrum.  He fell still.  “Please?” he pleaded softly.

                I sighed dramatically.

                “Come lie with me then,” he suggested.  Stretching his arm on the bed out to me.

                Who was I kidding?  Rubbing his back was only one thing on the long list of things I wanted to do to him.

                I knelt on the bed and crawled over to the middle where he lay, sprawled out on his stomach.  His eyes were closed and he had a peaceful smile on his face.  I sat just above his waist, one leg on either side of his body, and began massaging his upper back.

                “Are those my shorts?” he asked after a moment of neither of us speaking.  It was a familiar five member boy band’s music video on TV now.  I didn’t know which song it was for though, but I’d heard it before.

                “Yes, I stole them a while ago when a bunch of us were hanging out at your house,” I admitted.  Each one of his friends were heir to some big time Korean conglomerate, but his parents were the only ones who constantly were needed in China or Japan for business.  In turn, leaving Ji Ho in the hands of a caring staff of house keepers.  Therefore making his house the choice place to spend ‘adult supervision free’ time together.  “It’s a new season, you don’t even wear these for games or practice anymore,” I reminded him, putting pressure on a knot at the back of his neck.

                “It’s cool,” he sighed.  “It’s just funny to see you wear shorts.  You never show skin,” he kidded.

                He had a point.  Baggy, loose fitted clothes were my thing.  Don’t know why, don’t care either.  I’m sure a psychologist would have a field day picking at my brain.

                “They’re so big, they go past my knees,” I argued.

                “Yeah, showing your shins.  That’s a big deal for you.”  I pinched under his shoulder.  He snorted and wriggled under me, too tired to swing at me.  “I just meant that most girls would be in a tank top and roll the shorts until they just about covered their asses.”

                “Well, I’m not most girls, now am I?” I countered with a sniff.

                “That’s why I like you, Dani,” he confessed.  “You’re a weirdo and you embrace it.”

                I laughed and smacked the hell of my hand against his spine.  He coughed in pain and flipped onto his back so quickly, I almost went flying.  He braced me up by holding onto my forearms until I regained my balance.

                And now I’m straddling him, I thought horrified.

                “Quit picking on me,” he pouted, letting go of my arms and crossing his over his chest.  I choked out a laugh and eased off him.  I stretched out on my stomach next to him.

                “How was your date with Soo Won anyway?” he asked as he pushed onto his side to face me, resting his head on his arm.

                I shrugged.  “Fine.”

                “Just fine?  That’s it?” he pressed.

                “That’s it.  Just fine,” I repeated.

                “Maybe your standards are too high,” he chuckled.  “If you want a boyfriend out of the guys at school, you have to lower your standards.  You’ll find a nice one then.”

                I shrugged again.  “I’m not too worried about it.”  Even though I think, every moment of every day, of what it would be like for you to be my boyfriend.

                “But don’t you want to kiss guys and stuff?” he wondered.  “Where are your hormones?” he laughed exasperatedly.  Oh, they’re here.  Fantasizing about kissing you, I told myself bitterly.

               Bizarre how the king of the playboys and the ‘never been kissed’ 16 year old tom boy became so close.

                I giggled.  “Not all of us want to go around kissing everything that walks by them,” I scolded playfully.

                “Fine, fine.  I give up.”

                He shifted closer, wrapping his arms around me.  Molding me against his body, my back flattened against his chest.  He tucked his forehead into the crook of my neck.  My eyes fluttered shut.

                “Are you coming to my game tomorrow?” he asked.

                “Yes, of course.  Amelia and I are going together.  I wouldn’t miss it.”

                “Good,” he murmured.  “It’s at five.”

                “Five,” I repeated.  “And my track meet is next Thursday right after school.  Can you make it?”

                “I always do,” he answered automatically.  “Just remind me again.  I don’t want to forget the time or anything.”

                “I will,” I promised.  I may be tiny, but tiny translates to aerodynamic for runners on the track.  He snuggled closer.

                I felt his breathing get heavier.  “Are you going to sleep here?” I whispered, hoping to sound casual and not hopeful.

                He reached into the sleeve of my tee shirt through the neck and adjusted my bra strap and tank top strap that had both slipped down my shoulder and could be seen out the bottom of my short sleeve.  He smoothed down my sleeve and let his arm fall over my wasit, hand on the mattress.  It was a caring gesture and his hands were far from groping range like always.

                Damn it all.

                “If that’s ok with you.  Are your parents working in the morning?”

                “Only one morning class on Saturdays,” I replied.  “They’ll be back around 11.”

                “I’ll sneak out before then,” he promised, his voice deep and sleepy.  His parents, when they aren’t away on business, wouldn’t be home from work until way past midnight only to wake up early the next morning for another day at the office.  They’d never even notice he was gone.  If they were home at all this weekend.

                I shimmied down a little until my head came to rest on his arm.

                Like I said, he may date a million and one girls left and right, but he always snuggles with his tom boy best friend at the end of the day.

                If that’s all I can get, that’s what I’ll take.