I can’t stop thinking about last night. That was the first time I confessed to someone so recklessly. I don’t know if it’s because he’s so merry all the time, but his reliable smile and his loud aplomb effortlessly pulls at all of the stories within me. I feel emotionally around him, and I don’t like it.

How can someone that cheery be that sincere? How can someone who seems to be so social know how to listen to one person?

I scratch my head. Forget pride. I need to ask Nam who he is. No, no, that’s wrong. I should ask Chanyeol himself what he is and why he offered to help me solve my boy problems. What incited him to do that?

I take out my cellphone on my way back to the dorm. Shoving my inhibitions into hiding, I text Chanyeol.

Me: Hey, Chanyeol. I’m really sorry about suddenly leaving last night.

I stop typing. Confrontation? Yeah, I’m not about that. I delete my message and rewrite it.

Me: Hey, Chanyeol. Do you think we could eat lunch some time?

He texts me back when I arrive at my dorm.

Chanyeol: Hey, Junah! I’m at lunch right now, so feel free to join.

I drop off my books and head to the cafeteria. I scan the area until I find the only tall guy with hair like his, and then I sit down at his table. He looks up from staring at his phone, and with a mouthful of food, asks, “You didn’t get lunch?”

“I’ll be right back,” I apprise, and then I wait in line and have my tray filled with food. After getting a drink, I return to the table, where Chanyeol is now focused on playing a game on his phone.

“What’s that?” I ask.

“Granny Smith,” he says, showing the screen of his iPhone to me. It’s a game that shows a grandma with a cane who jumps over valleys and catches apples. “It’s really fun. You should get it.”

“Is it free?”

“Nah,” he says, pausing the game and setting it on the table. “Used to be, but I guess the people who made it decided they could make money off of it, because it’s got a price tag.”

“I’m not getting it then,” I say. “I like free.” I eat my food, waiting for the right moment to mention the subject. However, it’s Chanyeol who brings it up.

“You said last night that you didn’t really know why … anything.” He taps the table in thought. “What about now?”

“Well … no,” I tersely chuckle. Taking a deep breath, I say, “I’m sorry if this is rude, but I’ve only talked to you a few times, and having someone I don’t know come up to me and ask me if I need help getting the guy I like is a little daunting and questionable.”

“Ah, that,” he laughs. “Sorry. I consider everyone I’ve talked to more than once a friend.” I can’t argue with that. “By ’I don’t know’, maybe you mean, you don’t know why I asked?” I shake my head. “It was obvious you liked Lange.”

My face crashes. “Really? It’s that bad?”

“But I’m naturally observant,” he says, tapping his head, “so it could be nothing to someone else. Anyway, I asked because you’ve been like that since last semester.”

Confused, I interrogate, “How did we meet last semester?”

“We didn’t,” he answers. “But I’ve seen you around. I knew I’d seen you from somewhere before besides the mall. If that sounds creepy, I’m sorry. I’ve seen a lot of people at school. I know everybody’s faces, but I don’t always know their names.”

“So if you’ve seen me tons of times … why haven’t I met you until now?”

“Who knows?” He shrugs while grinning. “Maybe you were too busy looking at someone else.”

I glance away. I was definitely looking at someone else, and for too long a time.

“I’m a wingman,” he suddenly asserts.

I narrow my eyes at him. A wingman? I’m tempted to scoff. “So you do that … for fun? And you ask people if they need help, even if they don’t know you?”

“No. People usually ask me for help,” he says, stirring his drink, “but I asked you, because you seemed nice. And I wanted to help you, since you looked like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you lost something you didn’t know how to look for,” he murmurs.

I glance down. He’s done it again. He has successfully changed the mood from friendly to intimate. How does he do it? And so smoothly, too, so that I can barely tell the difference between acquaintance and amity.

Striving not to take him too seriously, I inquire, “Then … you basically pair people up in your spare time?”

He pouts. “It sou