I was feeling smug later, during the week, because I hadn’t gotten sick and Tae Il kept asking if I was feeling alright.

            Until a few days later, my nose was running and I couldn’t stop sneezing.  The head teacher told me I had to go home or wear one of those medical masks.  I told her I wasn’t sick.  She said my nose was red.  I put on the mask.  What was I going to at home?  Sit on my bed and think about Tae Il?  No.  I needed to keep my mind occupied.

            That Friday, I insisted to the girls from work that I was fine enough to go out.  I wasn’t sick.  I needed to get drunk.  I needed to make out with a hot guy to keep Tae Il from entering my brain.  I was being cruel and selfish, hanging out with him so much.  But I couldn’t stop.  I’d seen him three times this past week.  Each time, he tried to give me something to make me feel better.  I told him I wasn’t sick.  He was kind of busy, that was his explanation why he could only see me three times.  He still managed to talk to me every night before bed though.

            Leah told me, on our way to the club district, that I should be at home resting.

            My blood was bad, not my immune system.  I didn’t say that.

            “I’m fine, let’s go party,” I’d told her.  Jenna cheered loud enough that I couldn’t hear what Leah mumbled in reply.

            I was tipsy by the time I received the third text message from Tae Il.  I’d ignored the others.  I must have looked bad, sitting at the bar though because no guys wanted to get anywhere near me.  I did kind of feel like crap.

            The girls from work were over the club scene for the evening and they didn’t argue too much when I told them I was fine and was going to stay.  Maybe it was the death glare I was giving them.  Or maybe it was when Jenna looked like she was going to puke so I rushed her into the bathroom.  When we came out, I told the others they should take her home.  Right away.  Go.  Now.

            I let my head fall forward onto the bar.  I couldn’t finish my drink.  My stomach was rolling.

            Someone tapped me on the shoulder.  I growled, but didn’t lift my head.  I was sure it was the bartender wanting to tell me that if I was going to be sick, I had to get away from his bar.

            The person laughed and slid an arm around my waist, easing me off the bar stool.  Great, now that I’m not in the mood, some desperate guy is all up on me.

            “You must be out of your mind.”

           I gasped, my eyes springing open.  “Tae…you!”  I giggled, feeling the floor slide around under my feet.

            “Are you drunk?  You’re sick.  How can you be drinking?” he asked, shaking his head at me. 

            “I’m tipsy.  There’s a difference.  How do you say ‘tipsy’ in Korean?  I don’t know that word,” I babbled as he put one of my arms around his shoulders and held me closer by the waist, taking on most of my weight.

            “Come on.  I’ll take you home,” he said instead, using his free hand to adjust his hat on his head.

            “Can you even see?  You’re wearing sunglasses inside a dark club.  Do you want to dance?  I’ll teach you how to grind.”  My fingers danced down his sides as I sloppily tried to drag him toward the dance floor.  He swatted at my hands, holding my wrists with one hand and my waist with the other.  My weight shifted and he stumbled.  “You’re so cute when you blush like that,” I laughed.

            “Try not to talk too much,” he replied, righting us as we approached the exit.

            It must have been hard to hail a cab while propping up a girl with a dilapidated sense of balance in the middle of a sneezing fit.  But somehow Tae Il did it.

            I curled up against the door in the cab.  I couldn’t touch him more than I had to.  It wasn’t fair.  y.

            When I refocused my attention, I realized the cab had stopped.

            “This looks like my building,” I mumbled, cheek pressed to the cool glass of the cab’s window.

            Tae Il just laughed and paid the driver.  He disappeared and a second later, I was falling out of the cab when he opened the door.  He caught me by the shoulders and helped me out the rest of the way. 

            “My feet hurt,” I complained, pulling off my heels and sneezing twice.  “Why are you blushing now?”

            He sighed and shook his head, his cheeks flaming, as he bent at the knees.  Scooping me up effortlessly, he cradled me against him as he hurried into the building.

            “You can’t walk around barefoot,” he said, using his pinky to hit the up button on the elevator.

            He insisted on carrying me into my apartment.  “You leave the TV on when you’re not here?” he asked.

            “I don’t like silence.  Ever,” I answered.

            He let out a light laugh as he put me down next to my bed and pulled the blankets down on my bed.

            “Get into bed.  I’ll get you some water.  You shouldn’t be drinking when you’re sick,” he told me as he walked the whole three steps into my kitchen and got me a water bottle out of my fridge.  I wasn’t feeling as tipsy as before, just sick and a little lightheaded.

            A sneezing fit of five or six sneezes wracked my body as I stood there.  When I was done, I slumped onto my bed, sitting on the edge, I watched him walk back over.

            He handed me the water.  I didn’t really want it, but I took a long gulp anyway.

            “Thank you, Tae Il,” I mumbled.  “Help yourself if you’re hungry or thirsty.
            Smiling, he sat on the floor in front of my bed.  “I’m ok, thanks.”  Then he frowned, hugging his knees to his chest.  “Why do you go out drinking so often?”

            Because I don’t care.  “Something to do.”

            “There’s lots of other stuff to do.  You should take better care of yourself.”  His eyes held such concern, I got the chills.  It felt like he knew.  I stuck the opening of the bottle back into my mouth and guzzled more water.

            “I’m fine.  Alcohol, guys, what else is there?” I sighed.

            His eyes were glued to the floor as his cheeks filled with color.  “Usually, do you get drunk and…”  He looked up at me and shrugged.  “Never mind.  I-I just meant, your body is weak from the cold you have.  You should be careful.”

            “I do get drunk and have ,” I admitted.  Will this make you leave?  Will this make you forget about me?  It’s better if it happens now rather than later.  There’s still hope now.  “That’s what you were going to ask, wasn’t it?”

            He looked back down.  “Still?”

            “What?”  Two sneezes.  One cough.

            “Still.  Do you still do that?”  His chest rose and fell with the deep breath he took before he looked at me.  Still looking a little uncomfortable.  “Even after you met me?”

            “Once,” I confessed.  I couldn’t remember exactly, but I thought it was one night the week after we’d met.  Some guy.  Some club.  Did the details really matter anymore?

            “But you said you don’t love any of those guys.”

            “I don’t.”  The water felt cold, like it was freezing my throat, the more I drank.

            “Wouldn’t you rather be with someone you had feelings for?”

            Yes.  I shrugged.  “In the end, does it really matter?”

            He stayed silent a moment, nodding to himself, before he stood up and sat on the edge of my bed, next to me.  “What do you mean?”

            “Nothing.  I’m tired.  Don’t listen to me.”  One sneeze.  Two coughs.  I felt like crap.  I finished my water and put the empty bottle on the floor near the head of my bed.  My throat hurt.

            “What about me?” he wondered, not looking at me.

            “You want to have with me?” I asked, my voice gravely.

            All the color disappeared from his face and he forced a laugh.  “I-I didn’t mean that!  I meant, um, just…why do you have to get drunk and have with guys you don’t care about?  It could just be me and you.”  He then laughed ironically.  “Sorry.  This isn’t any of my business.  It’s just, I like you.  I want to be with you.”

            I blinked at him.  “We barely know each other.”

            “All those hours on the phone?  All those hours we spent talking and wandering around the city?  We know enough.  This isn’t a drama.  I’m not saying we should run off and get married because we’re meant to be.  It’s only been a couple of weeks, but we’re getting to know each other.”  He turned to face me.  “I also know there’s something you’re not telling me.  Something that must really bother you.  Something that makes you feel the need to drink and have like that.”

            I sighed, but it turned into a coughing fit.  When my body finished heaving with that weird hacking cough, I finally looked back at him.  “Tae Il, you’re too nice a guy to be wasting your time on damaged goods like me.”  Now I had a headache.

            Damaged goods with such a fast approaching expiration date.

            He smiled.  “So you like me, too then?”