Two weeks later, I’d fallen into a routine.  Perhaps I thought college would be just a little bit more like high school.  As in, it would take at least a month for it to pick up to a whirlwind speed. 

            Classes.  Study.  Library.  Homework.  Repeat.  Oh, and this.  This.  Less Kyung.  More Hyun Joong.

            That part .  Block b had a list of guest appearances and performances all over Seoul, plus they were beginning to record their new album.  Then me with my four classes and all that comes with that, plus that stupid marketing project left me with no time.

            I almost wanted to stop meeting Hyun Joong at the library to work on our project because the quiet made me nod off behind my international marketing book.

            Oh.  Wait, and I almost succeeded in blocking this out of my selective memory.  Almost.  My father was making me and my mother attend some ambassador ball coming up.  The US ambassador to Korea – my dad – and his whole entourage was going there and the Korean president with his whole entourage would be there.

            Not a fan of events that would make me wear ball gowns and heels.

            Oh, help me.  Heels.

            I was going to ask Kyung to see if he could come with me, but I was pretty sure he had a schedule already planned for that night. 

            He just had to be a superstar rapper.  He couldn’t just do karaoke like the rest of the country.  No, he had to be really, really good at it and sign with a label and become part of a hot shot idol group.  Sigh.  Way to be selfish, Madison.

            For now, however, I would block that ball thing out of my selective memory because I was at the library with Hyun Joong working on our project, going on three hours now.  I needed to focus on staying awake and thinking about Kyung.  Well, that part was kind of easy.  Absence does make the heart grow fonder.  I missed him.  And it’s only been two weeks.

            That must mean something.

            And I haven’t had anymore naughty dreams involving Hyun Joong.

            Thankfully.

            “I think we’re good for tonight,” Hyun Joong said, gathering all of the articles he’d gathered together and set them off to the side in a neat pile.  He’d printed out so many to help us with setting up the integration of our company into the Korean market.  Or whatever he said.  I wasn’t in the mood just then.  “Are you alright?  You’re spacing out.”

            I’m sure I was that obvious.

           I could barely look at him the same way after that dream I’d had of him.  Every time I did look at him, images would fill my head.  Images of him doing things and I just couldn’t take it.  I could feel my face getting hotter.

            I tried to laugh.  “I’m fine, thanks.  Just tired.”

            “I’ll run across the street and get you something to drink,” he offered, already standing up from his seat. 

            “No, no, it’s alright.  Thank you.  This was a good place to stop.”

            Cripes.  I can’t take you being any nicer to me.

            We started talking about nothing in particular.  Even though we’d agreed we were done for the night, every time we worked together, we managed to hang out together and talk.  Spend time together.  I’m going to hell.

            Somehow we got on the topic of family.  My family is pretty simple.  Only child.  Parents.  Mom’s an English teacher here in Seoul.  Started working at the school when Dad got sent here.  They liked life here so much, we stayed.  We’re originally from Florida, but we’ve been here so long, I can’t even remember Florida.

            “Your dad is the US ambassador here?” Hyun Joong exclaimed, thankfully we were the only ones in this private area of the library or we’d have some pretty angry students glaring at us right now.  “No way.  He works at the embassy, right?”

            “Yeah, it’s not too far from here actually.”

            “I know.  My dad works with the Korean head of defense.  He has an office at the embassy.”

            My blood froze in my veins.  “What?  Really?  Our dads work together?”

            He laughed.  “I guess so.”  Suddenly, his eyes widened and he sat perfectly straight in his seat.  His arms dropped on the table between us, grasping both my hands.

            Not ok.  Not ok.  His hands are soft.  Not. Ok.  But I couldn’t seem to pull my hands out of his.  I liked how he held onto mine and smiled.  He looked so excited.

            “Are you going to that ball for the President?” he asked, leaning into the table.

            Oh. My. God.

            “A-are you?”

            “Yes!  I have to go!  My parents pulled a guilt trip on me.  Are you going?”  He looked so excited and he was still holding my hands.

            I inhaled deep and slid my hands away from his and laughed casually, pretending I needed my hands to pull my hair back off my shoulders.

            “Yeah.  My dad always makes me go to these things.  He likes to show off his family so my mom and I always go,” I answered, twisting my hair around a few fingers.

            He sat back in his seat, smiling lazily at me.  Oh, that needs to stop.

            “If I had known, I would have gone to these things more often,” he replied huskily.

            I giggled breathlessly.  “They’re really not that much fun,” I joked.

            “Do you have a date to this one?” he asked, leaning forward with his elbows on the table.  Man, was it hot in here?  Are they trying to roast the students?

            “Not yet…” I mumbled, looking down at my hands in my lap.  That was when I noticed my bag, opened, on the pushed in chair next to me.  My cell phone peeking out.

            “You’re supposed to have a date to these kinds of things, aren’t you?” he asked, casually.  I glanced up at him and he was smiling at me. 

            He’d never asked me straight out if I had a boyfriend in any of the times that we spoke in the few weeks that we’d known each other.  He hinted, shyly, around the fact that he was single and that we really should hang out sometime, but so far – thankfully – we’d been too busy to set anything up.

            “I think so.  It’s a formal affair, so I think it’s kind of expected the guests would have a date,” I replied offhandedly.

            I looked back down at my bag.  My fingers tiptoed to my phone, without moving my arm, I hit a number on my phone to call back the last number I’d dialed.  I counted to ten and ended the call.  Then I quickly dropped my arms onto the table, drumming my fingers next to my book.

            “So why don’t you have a date yet?” he wondered.

            I knew it was coming, but it still made me jump when my phone vibrated loudly in my bag.  I shot him an apologetic look before I answered it.  I widened my eyes and waited a couple of seconds before I spoke.

            “Oh, my God!  I totally forgot!  I’m so sorry!  I’ll come back right away!  No, it’s fine.  I swear!  I’m sorry.  I promise I’m going now.  Yeah, I’ll see you in a few minutes,” I blurted out in one breath.  I ended the call and jumped up.

            “Hyun Joong, I’m really sorry.  My roommate is really sick and I told her I pick up some snacks and medicine for her earlier.  I got the stuff,” I patted my bag as I slung it over my shoulder.  “But I forgot to give it to her.  I’m sorry, I should really go.”

            Hyun Joong nodded and stood up, too.  “Yes, of course, I shouldn’t have kept you so long,” he apologized.  He began gathering papers and his books.  I froze in the middle of pushing in my chair.  Damn it.  He’s just that sweet.

            “No, it’s alright.  I like talking to you,” I admitted quietly.

            He finished shoving everything into his bag.  He walked over to me and smiled, right through my soul.  He gently squeezed my shoulder.

            “Come on.  I’ll walk you to your dorm.  Your friend needs you,” he said as he headed toward the exit of the library.

            It took me a second to get my legs to work again.

            Back at the dorm, Jordan asked me what that phone call was all about.  I laughed and told her I was just trying to get out of a meeting with some classmates.

            These girls, all three of them, are my very best friends, but even they don’t need to know what was going on in my head.

            I hurried to my room.  With Jordan in the living area watching TV, I could have the room to myself for a few minutes.  I called Kyung and told him about the ambassador’s ball.

            “I’m sorry, baby.  That weekend we have to film another episode for MTV and we have recording to do and we have to perform at this outdoor festival Saturday night,” he said.  It’s been too many days since I’d seen him – touched him – last.  I was getting cranky.  I fumbled up onto my sky high bed and fell onto my back with a pout.

            “I hate you.  I’m going to be dateless and bored.  Surrounded by old American and Korean politicians and embassy people.  And their wives,” I’d grumbled.  “I. Hate. You.”

            He chuckled.  “I’m sorry.  I love you.”

            I winced as if in pain.  “Ow, an ‘I love you’ to the chest.”

            “I’ll try though, ok?  I’ll call you when the performance is over.  Maybe I can make it for the end.  Black tie, right?”

            “Yes and I’ll be in a gown!  I have to wear heels!  I’ll wear stilettos for you!  And-and my dress, I’ll get one with a slit all the way up my leg if you can come!  Please!  Oh, and backless!  I’ll get a backless gown!”

            His laugh made me miss him more.  I could just see him clutching at his chest as he groaned in mock pain.  “Ah, Maddie, trying to bribe me with my love for your y legs?”

            “Is it working?” I asked in a mumble.

            “I’m going to try my hardest to show up, but it’ll be late if I can get away,” he promised.  I sighed naturally and then again dramatically, making him laugh.

            “Thank you.”

            “Do you love me again?” he asked playfully.

            Always and forever.  “Maybe,” I teased back.

            We talked for a bit more.  We’d known each other for so long that we were of course past the awkward conversations.  Our talks were natural.  Comfortable.  Fun.  I loved talking to him.  I could say anything to him.  Him to me.

            Conversations with Hyun Joong were a different kind of fun.  New.

            Stop it.

            I made sure to tell Kyung I loved him an extra time before we hung up that night.