We danced until he finished singing in my ear and the music started up again from the other room. I wasn’t sure how long we were dancing. All I knew was that I’m completely happy being in his arms. We were still slow dancing even though the song was a fast one already. At first, I thought Jae would let go of me, but he held me close and danced even slower than before. I could feel the strength in his arms, the roughness of his jaw and neck against my cheek.

I saw Min fidgeting, then he rose and left us. The realization that I was this close and alone with Jae did strange things to me. My heart started skipping crazily. I’m not even sure if he felt the fast beatings, like sleigh bell music, but we moved together so slowly now that we’d almost stopped.

“What song are you dancing to?” I asked, trying to laugh, hoping it would cover my trembling.

“The same one you are,” he answered, his voice deep, melting me. Oh my goodness!

He says that to all the girls, Dara, I thought. He knows all the lines, just like my sisters. And just like their gullible guys, I was close to believing the words were reserved just for me. I pulled back suddenly, afraid of being hurt. “I…I don’t think so.”

He pulled me to him again. “I know so,” he replied, his mouth so close to mine, his words felt like kisses. “Close your eyes, Dara.”

“Why?”

He laughed quietly. “So you don’t go cross-eyed staring at my nose.”

“I…uh…was actually staring at your mouth.” I said, suddenly regretting those words. I wanted to hit my head with something because of what I just said. I felt my cheeks burning. I glanced past him, struggling to get back to the real world, the world where I belonged. In the room across the hall I saw my parents, Bom, and Aunt Hyori looking around as if they were trying to find someone.

I moved away from him. He pulled me back again.

“I thought you wanted to be kissed,” Jae said huskily.

“Kissed? By you?”

If my mouth touched his, I wouldn’t be able to hide my intense feelings. My parents and Aunt Hyori would see, my sisters would know, and worst of all, Jae would realize I wasn’t just another girl to fool around with but a hopeless, head-over-heels case. If my mouth touched his, I might never recover. It scared the hell out of me. “No.” I blurted out without thinking.

Jae gazed down at me, his eyes narrowing like he was trying to figure me out.

“My family is looking for me,” I told him.

“You know, I thought you were different from other girls,” Jae said, keeping me close so that I couldn’t avoid his eyes. He was staring at me so intensely. “But Hyun Joong was right – you play as hard to get as your sisters.”

That hurt.

I pushed him back, stung by his words. “You think I’m playing hard to get? I think you’ve got the wrong girl, Jae!”

He stared at me, his dark eyes turbulent. He was mad. I can tell. But I didn’t understand why. After all, he was the one who said something that offended me.

“There she is,” my mother called. “Hey, Dara, Jae, time to go.”

There was nothing he and I could do except act as if we’d been in the middle of a friendly conversation. I heard him take a long deep breath and let it out again. We met my family in the center hall.

Uncle Hyun Bin, Min, and Chaerin stood at the other end of the hall, putting on their coats. “Chaerin’s coming with us for the rest of our visits,” Aunt Hyori told me cheerfully. “Why don’t you come to, Dara?”

I wondered who had invited Chaerin and glanced at Jae. He looked serious.

“Min, would enjoy it,” he said stiffly, without smiling.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” I replied. “Tell Min we can do something tomorrow.”

Jae nodded silently and headed down the hall, Aunt Hyori following him.

My family and I left soon after. Bom and I rode to the next two destinations in silence, turning on our friendliness at each visit, then sinking back into our own thoughts once we were in the car again. At last we arrived home and wordlessly plodded upstairs to our bedroom. Then both of us forgot to knock, entering our shared bathroom from opposite doors at the same time.

“I’ll use Chaerin’s,” she said.

“No, I will,” I offered, “Bom, are you okay? You’ve been quiet.”

“And you haven’t?” she countered. She pulled her hair up into a ponytail and began to wash her face. “I guess I’ve been thinking a lot.”

“Should you be doing that on Christmas?” I teased.

“Christmas is what has gotten me thinking.” She dried her face, then put cream under her eyes and wiped away the mascara. “All the tinsel and stuff. Do you ever feel like you’re walking around with a smile plastered on?” She wiped off her lipstick. “Like you’re tired of faking it, tired of acting the way everyone expects you to, but you don’t know how else to be because you’re no longer sure what’s real for you?”

“In certain places I feel that way, Bommie.”

So what do you do?” she asked.

“I leave. I run back to a place where I know who I’ve always been.”

“Busan,” she guessed.

“But that’s not a good solution,” I went on. “I should be able to be anywhere with anyone and be myself.” I glanced at my own made-up reflection. “But I’m not. Especially when it counts.” She met my eyes in the mirror. “That makes two of us.”

**

About six-thirty that evening Bom put on a casual clothes, then drove off to exchange gifts with Siwon and meet up with some friends. She asked me to come, but I told her I was tired.

Can a person’s heart feel tired? Mine did. All the feelings I had developed for Jae that would never come to anything were taking their toll. The bottled emotions were making me weak and stressed. I was drained.

My father finally got his chance to read, and my mother went up to their bedroom to watch something on TV. I poked through the videos I’d brought from school, trying to find one that would sufficiently distract me from the fact that Chaerin had not yet returned. She and Jae must’ve been having a really good time. I imagined him putting his arms around her, saying, “I thought you wanted to be kissed.” She wouldn’t get scared the way I had. She would definitely go for a kiss.

I’d just picked out a foreign film from my collection, counting the fact that reading subtitles would keep my mind off other things, when the phone rang.

“Bom, Chaerin, Dara?”

“One of us.”

“Dara,” he guessed again, “this is Junsu.”

“Hey, Junsu, how was your Christmas?”

“Great!” he said. “I got the Nikon I’ve been wanting for three years and have been shooting film al