When we return to the dorm, I change into pajamas. After slipping underneath my blankets, I stare at my phone and debate who to text first – Nam or Chanyeol. Usually, I would text Nam. Nam is a great guy to talk to when I need another person’s advice. He always has my back no matter what. If I wanted to meet someone, he would arrange it for me. If I needed something done, he would help me. And I would do the same for him, too. He’s a database of information, and more than he is useful, he’s dependable. I love the guy.

But I can’t seem to text him for help about Chanyeol. I find that I don’t want to. He might scold me about looking for a guy, and he’s already reminded me in different variations that if I want something too much, I’ll never have it. I don’t want to hear that from him again.

Me: Hi Chanyeol. It’s Junah. I got your number from someone. (A white lie, I tell myself.) I was wondering if we could talk about what you were referring to earlier.

He replies right away.

Chanyeol: Hey Junah!! (Two exclamation points? Even his personality leaks through the cellphone). I’m not busy right now. Do you want to hang out?

Right now? Why right now?

Me: It isn’t too late? You don’t have anything you have to do tomorrow morning?

Chanyeol: I have class. But so does everybody. Let’s hang out! If you try to get out of it, it’s my last offer J

I scoff.

Me: Where?

Chanyeol: Do you want to meet at the steps like last time?

I think about it. He must have chosen that place because that’s where he first worded his offer. I hop out of bed and text him a reply.

Me: Sure.

Chanyeol: If you’re in pajamas, don’t worry about changing.

I stop walking to my closet. How did he guess that?

Me: That’s okay. I don’t like walking outside in pajamas anyway. See you in a bit.

I hurriedly change into a college sweatshirt and a pair of skinny sweatpants that Bora bought me during Black Friday. I grab my ID before heading out, and then I rush to the back of my dorm.

It’s different out here at night. Besides being colder, it feels much like it would if I were driving in the evening and playing music, except the scenery isn’t continually changing. The stars reflect against the ripples on the lake, casting an eerie yellow halo against the apartment grounds. I shiver and pull the collar of my sweatshirt up to my nose. The door behind me opens, and I turn around to see Chanyeol, dressed in a detailed tweed blazer, walk outside. I’ve never noticed it before, but he has a good sense of fashion, something I admire in a guy. Still, his blazer isn’t rational in this weather, and because of him I feel underdressed.

He sits down beside me, and for a while we just stay there, staring at the darkened view of our campus. He doesn’t act like he’s going to start the conversation, so I decide to take the initiative.

“Sorry for making you come outside,” I apologize.

“It’s okay,” he says, rubbing his hands together.

“Aren’t you cold? Your jacket looks thin.”

“Nah,” he smiles. He’s lying. His breath is so stark against the black air that it looks like it was drawn in white.

“We can go inside … “

“This is good,” he assures me. “So you like Lange, right? And you want me to help you figure out if he feels the same way?”

“Do you know him?”

He shakes his head. “I know of him, but I don’t know him. Personally, I think he’s a bad guy.”

“What?” I ask him, rather insulted.

“Ah! I don’t mean it like that!” He refuses, waving his hands back and forth in front of me in a frightened movement. “I mean, and I’m only saying this from experience, but he fills the quota of ‘bad guy’.”

I give him a chance to clarify himself and ask, “What’s that?”

“He’s popular, he’s good-looking … “ He lists off all of Lange’s attributes on his fingers and continues, “he’s nice when he wants to be, he’s talented at soccer … he’s good with girls. How do you know him?”

I smile as the memory washes over me. “It was the first semester during orientation.  All the freshman were invited to this karaoke event. I went to get to know people, and I saw him.” I breathe in the fresh air and watch the streetlights flicker as the wind bends the trees. “And I remember thinking, ‘Wow