Chanyeol: Chapter 10
Cupid's Match
When I see Chanyeol again, he is back to being his animatedly-wired self. He greets me with that spastic hand of his, and then he skips over and throws his arms wide.
"Is this a thing?" I ask him as I let him smother me with his arms.
"It's a thing," he concedes. He's so tall that his chest, which feels just as hard as his arms, suffocates my face. He pulls back and taps the side of my head with his knuckles. "What's up with you? You look angry."
"I'm not angry," I say as I cover a yawn. "This is what I look like when I'm sleepy."
"Did you not sleep enough last night?" He asks as he starts walking beside me.
"No, because I had a very important text conversation with Lange." I sniff and wipe my nose with my sleeve. I hope I don't get sick. I've got too many things to do this week.
"I'm guessing my pro matching skills have launched you into new relationship territory."
"You're such a nerd," I say. He laughs.
"Valentine’s day is in two weeks. Our school does this thing called 'Red Valentine', and you’re going to get one."
"What's that?" I question.
"Students can buy different sorts of valentines packages and have it delivered to a person of their choice. In his or her class. And if you wanted, you could buy that person a serenade, too. "
"Buy a serenade?" I say incredulously. "But I mean, that's actually really cute. "
"Exactly," he nods, "and I'm going to make sure Lange confirms everything on that day. "
"What's that mean?" I peer at him curiously.
"Can't say," he shakes his head, giving me an uneven grin where one of his eyes is closed more than the other. "I'm a behind the scenes kind of guy."
I think of the girl. Is she part of his behind the scenes work?
"Hey Chanyeol," I broach, "there's this girl I've seen around and I was wondering if you -"
"Channie!"
I'm so startled I almost choke on my own spit. Chanyeol glances at me to see if I’m okay, and then he greets the girl rapidly coming towards us. Even though she is wearing heels, she's still shorter than Chanyeol. It's amazing.
"What's up?" He asks her.
"Look at this," she says, showing him her text message. "What do you think? Progress?"
Chanyeol’s eyes dart across the screen as he mumbles the words to himself. He points at a message and says, "Why did you say that?"
"I don't know why I say anything," the girl laughs. She notices me and pulls her phone away from Chanyeol. "Sorry. Were you busy?"
"It's okay," I intercede. "I was about to head to the dorms. " I start saying my goodbyes so that I can politely excuse myself, but then I see Chanyeol share a tiny shake of his head, and I stop.
"We were going to do homework, so I'll talk to you later, okay?" Before she can protest, Chanyeol uses the advantage of his long legs to swiftly get away from her. I manage to keep up only by jogging alongside him. He doesn't slow until she's out of our sight.
"What was that?" I question.
"A friend that can talk forever," he observes. "I'm actually going to the dorms, so I'll see you later."
"Yeah. Bye, then," I say and watch him walk up the steps to the guys’ dorms. As I walk to my dorm, I start feeling bad about my relationship with Chanyeol. I’m willing to know more about his love life, but I don’t even know who he is. Apart from our match-making and customer relationship, we’re just students who see each other too often. I don’t want that. I want Chanyeol to be a friend of mine, whether or not things with Lange work out.
Last semester, Bora and I used to have game nights in the lobby of the other girls’ dorm building. I really liked those times, because even though we only planned for a number of people to come, other students would pass by and join us, and then our tiny group would turn into a mob. It was a great way to not only meet people, but to get to know them even more. We don’t do that anymore. I don’t know why.
I’m going to organize another game night sometime this week, and I’m going to invite Chanyeol. Plus, Nam and Bora, to my knowledge, haven’t gotten to know him yet. They have to get to know him. They are, after all, my closest friends.
An hour before I go to dinner, I get a group text from Nam, who asks Bora and me to help him get ready “like you guys promised.” We head over to the guys’ dorm building to help Nam prepare for his date. Although his roommates are there fluttering around him and teasing him about his date, they don’t do anything to help him with his outfit, which I suppose is why he agreed to let us help him out.
“Do you think I should wear this shirt?” Nam asks us as he pulls at the collar of his polo.
“Wear a long sleeves button down, and then roll up the sleeves,” I recommend. “Girls
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