TAEYON

I sat in the Astor Place Starbucks, freezing my off for no apparent reason –well actually, I was waiting for my glorious step-sister, who decided it was necessary to buy the Thanksgiving dinner by herself(I was on Christmas gift duty). Me, being the sensible one, finished in about two hours –one of which was dedicated wholly to lining up at the counters. And her, being the fussy one(made extra fussy by the sudden escalation of her drama queen tendencies due to watching too much Gossip Girl and Pretty Little Liars), took three –no wait, three and a half hours to get everything on the list.

She actually called me half an hour ago to tell me she was running late because of some fiasco she was in(knowing her, she ended up stalking a cute guy). And when she finally finds me at Starbucks, she was breathless and red-cheeked from running in heels in the winter cold. She collapsed in the chair in front of me and I hand her the complimentary hot chocolate the Starbucks manager handed me earlier. I still couldn’t get over the skirt and heels thing. It was only  two weeks ago that her daily wear consisted of ragged pants and black shirts.

‘Get up, drama queen,’ I told her. ‘We gotta go.’

She eyed the shopping bag she’d just set on the floor next to her seat. ‘Why, Taeyon?’ she pleaded. ‘I just got here. And I’m so tired.’

I stood in front of her, arms crossed over my chest and a patient expression on my face. Finally, she stood up with a small grumble and grabbed the shopping bag on the floor. I grabbed her arm and we were off, right back outside into the cold, hard pavement, where we immediately fell into our newly-typical Tiffany & Taeyon routine of laced-arms-and-cup-holding, while we hurriedly walked and talked –carefully maneuvering our way through the sidewalk people. it was funny how sisterly(gag) we’d gotten although people still found it bizarre. Ms. Mead from next door almost lost her false teeth the first time she saw us walking hand in hand out our door. Our parents called that evening to check if we’d been body-snatched by aliens –not kidding here.

‘This isn’t the way home, Taeyon,’ she complained. ‘You’ve lived here for a year. At least memorize your way home.’

‘Trust me,’ I answered.

She didn’t even ask me where I was leading her –proof of the more comfortable, albeit disturbing sisterly relationship we had developed. ‘Was it so necessary to make me miss the Kiss Me Café poetry session to discuss your latest dork exploits? No one(except maybe Kai) really cares that you beat your latest trivia machine score. And in case you hadn’t noticed, it’s below freezing outside, and there are a million things I’d rather be doing right now. For instance, making eyes at a cute manager –in a heated café, by the way.’ She unlinked her arm from mine and hugged her shopping bag, which was a bad idea, because there was a large frozen turkey inside.

I pulled her to a stop at a fence in front of an abandoned parking lot. The wall that separated it from the array of buildings behind it is massive, dank and dirty, graffiti covered and looked like a pool of germs and other organisms not yet known to science. The parking lot itself was empty except for a couple of cars that looked worse for wear. The whole area was surrounded by criss-cross –sort of chicken wire fence.

‘I was thinking, we should get married here,’ I muttered with a smirk.

‘Ew. Are you going lesbian on me again, Taeyon? Anway, what happened to the Egyptian Temple inside Staples? I’m against everything except for that one so that I get to wear the Nefertiti ivory gown with Cleopatra kohl eyes. I’m one of the few people who can pull of the ancient goddess look,’ she muttered in one breath. ‘Except maybe you.’

‘No, no, no. Not me and you,’ I corrected her firmly. ‘Not you and me, Tiff. Me and he.’ I pointed to one of the street basket players on the parking lot who’d just pulled off a violent dunk in the netless basketball rim. He had his arms up, his head down as he landed on the ground, causing the hoodie over his head to fall to his shoulders and present his beautiful face for our viewing pleasure.

Tiffany looked at me with sparkling eyes. ‘Worth missing the poetry session for,’ she said, smiling. ‘How did you ever know he hung out here?’

We turned back to the game. This was one of the moments I allowed myself to deviate from my usual activities, mainly involving trolling around the Bookleech, mainly because I get to hang out with my sudden-bestfriend. Even if it was a bit shallow, watching some guy play basketball when it was freezing out. But we stood there and admired. Heechul wasn’t only the most attractive guy on the court, he also looked like the star player. Run. Pass. Jump. Another dunk. DAMN. Graveyard-shift doorman by night, superstar pick-up b-ball player by day.

Once the game ended and we were back to walking towards our charming little cul-de-sac, Tiffany bowed down to me(a bit awkwardly because of the shopping bag she was still hugging) –as I’m positively owed. My discovery of the new night doorman at our apartment, whom everyone in the neighborhood wanted to know about –but no one really knew anything about him other than how gorgeous he was, and whatever more there was to know, he wasn’t telling –that was some prime sleuthing on my part. Although it wasn’t as much the sleuthing as it was the not-so-accidental alone-together-in-the-elevator ride and the possible exchanging of numbers, and the possible occasional texting marathons that went into the dawn. There was also the slight possibility that he mentioned he played ball in this particular lot on weekends.

‘I can’t believe I haven’t thought of this earlier,’ she exclaimed suddenly as we walked up our building, waving at the not-so-attractive daylight doorman. ‘Heechul the hot doorman clearly belongs to the No Kiss List.’

I rolled my eyes. Ever since Tiffany knew about the List I had made in the aftermath of the short-time-ago Spin the Bottle party, still sometimes referred to as the You-Made-Out-With-Kai-To-Make-Donghae-Jealous Incident, she had been constantly adding and subtracting names to it so that it had become ‘Tiffany and Taeyon’s No Kiss List’. We had argued for hours at a time about whose name should come first, but it never got anywhere, so we settle on arguing about the contents of the list. The book where we kept it was some journal I found in the Bookleech a while back. I had no idea what the other lists in it were for, but TTNKL had evolved into a masterlist of the people my step-sister and I were never allowed to kiss(or date, or hold hands with, and ado anything that entails kissing with). It was based on my Obsessive Study Time over Observational Secret Crush Time multiplied by Tiffany’s ratio of PMS and boredom. The agreements in the list certainly filled our time and made sure that there weren’t further problems with our sisterly relationship, and ultimately, it made sure we didn’t get involved with certain people that may cause problems in our lives.

It was sort of an insurance against the break-up of our newly-formed best-friend-sister-hater thing. Especially after she lost her original best friend to his jerkiness. I think I’m beginning to get into her drama queen tendencies.

‘Heechul is way over anyone in the list right now,’ I answered instead of making a scnee like she usually does, and pulled the notebook out of its hiding place behind the TV. I watched Tiffany unload the groceries on the counter. ‘I vote we put him directly to number two.’

‘Totally,’ Tiffany answered.

Interesting. That argument was won so easily this time.  I opened the notebook and stared at the page where we wrote our weird little list. It looked a little abused with its many colored slashes and arrows, but it was still at an acceptable level of messiness.

#1 Lee Donghae –the hot twenty-ish brother of Tiffany’s ex-bestfriend; big-shot new surgical resident and Taeyon’s tutor-slash-lustfest model. The fact that he is an evil person’s brother has no effect to his position or standing in the list.

#2 Welcome Kim Heechul, steaming midnight doorman, lusted after by every teenage girl within a three-mile radius(possibly farther, but we never dared ask). Possibly an ex-actor in an Asian country, based on his initial hotness.

#3 The evil ex-bestfriend, Park Chanyeol(Donghae’s younger brother but he took their mother;s surname), who is understandably attractive, but also a real jerk and is on the No Kiss List as a blacklist member.

#4 My cousin, Jessica (hits an A perfectly everytime she sings, enough said)

#5 Tiffany’s cousin, Taylor(Lautner? Played Jacob? ENOUGH SAID) and-

#6 My twenty-five year-old step-uncle(Tiff’s uncle) who will remain unnamed just in case someone reads this.

Tiffany read the lines I wrote over my shoulder. ‘I still can’t believe we put Chanyeol in there. He’s contaminating the list.’

I giggled.

‘Not funny,’ she poked my side. ‘Okay, well maybe it is.’

‘He’s there because of the worst reason possible. Or do you want one of us to try and kiss him sometime?’ I asked her.

‘True, true,’ she conceded. ‘Remind me to tell you how much I love you for giving up the chance to ever have a shot at Heechul.’

‘I have a boyfriend,’ I reminded her.

Kai and I have a weird sort of relationship –it looked dysfunctional, but was really fun. Like when we get together to study, I was the only one who would open my books and he would avoid studying at all costs and would settle to dancing all over the place. I would occasionally look up from my book because his body wave gets so distracting sometimes. He’d look at me, sometimes wink and lean down to kiss my nose or my lips. Then he’d say, ‘Why study? You always get an A, babe.’ And then I’ll answer, ‘I get As because I study.’ It was a reasonably boring conversation, but it made sense to us somehow. And when I get tired of reading and he gets tired of moving around, he’ll pull me up into an embrace with him standing by the side of the bed and me kneeling and leaning onto him. Probably –sometimes developing a very immature-mature physical reaction, but he ignores it and he would whisper, ‘God, you’re pretty.’

Suddenly, I noticed how silent Tiffany had gotten. She was rooted on the spot behind me, slumped against the wall.

‘What’s wrong?’ I asked her. Her face was flushed and I can see the worry lines around her pretty crinkly eyes.

‘I have to tell you something.’

‘What?’ Suddenly, I was very concerned about what she was about to say. But owing my rational brain, no hysterical theories rushed into my mind –thankfully.

Then she answered. ‘I kissed Kai.’

TIFFANY

 As soon as I said it, I wanted to take it back and bash myself in the head –yeah, about a hundred or so times. Firstly because what happened was entirely an accident(sort of), secondly, because Taeyon looked like she was about to cry –which she never did, and thirdly, because I was feeling pretty guilty about what I just said(and done, for that matter). Especially now that Taeyon was more or less being sisterly to me, and she also kept the Chanyeol thing a secret from my dad and her mom who were constantly checking in from Bora-Bora. For heaven’s sake, we were even in cahoots with fooling both her parents about where she was staying.

            Before I further incriminate myself on my pure brainlessness, let me first make one thing clear. There are many, many ways to force yourself to decide –we do it all the time, make decisions. But if we actually thought about it everytime we decided on something, we’d be somewhere between paralyzed and insane. What to say next, where to turn, what to look at, which number to dial, do you  have to dial at all. You have to decide which things you actually have to decide on, and which you just have to let go(let the chips fall where they may). And it’s those things that make you assume you have a choice that really mess things up badly.

 For example: Taeyon wasn’t home. That was the first factor. Kai was standing there by the outer door when I walked out in my scuffed boots and black army jacket, carrying the latest mess I made in the kitchen(and the living room, and the dining room, and my room). He took one look at me and smiled sheepishly like I just caught him doing something childishly naughty.

‘Are you protesting against something my sister did?’ I said. Note that I actually said sister here –which means I’m feeling really loyal to Taeyon at that time.

We’d never really gone past the occasional friendly waves and hi’s and goodbye’s, so I found it a bit surprising when he chuckled. Besides, he wasn’t really into me because he thought I was too nuclear and cliché –and well, generally just too boring for his taste, and I wasn’t really into him, because he thought I was boring(and ditto –who really wants to hang out, not saying anything for two hours straight, and just smiling and looking at each other?). And I never really hung out with him outside of being a forced third wheel to him and my step-sister. I was the innocent bystander –more like the chaperone.

I asked him if he wanted to come inside. I figured why not? Taeyon would probably kill me anyway if I let her boyfriend die of hypothermia. He looked gratefully at me and followed me inside through the front door. He was actually shivering a little –and he looked a little cute like that. Fine, he was attractive. A lot attractive actually. it’s not like I wasn’t aware of that, I have eyes, for heaven’s sake. It’s just that I never thought of being attracted to him. It wasn’t like I felt it, the way I felt it when there was an actual prime specimen around. Like Chanyeol. The difference was, this one actually like having thoughts. I’d found in my long withstanding conversations with my step-sister, that there were a lot of people who treated thoughts like they were a nuisance. Ergo, Chanyeol and the pop girls. And I happened to start to like the idea that I was allowed to think around people. the only hitch was that thinking brought me several problems that weren’t there before.

He followed me past the library’s open door where the walls were lined with floor-to-ceiling bookcases, and the books all looked new except for the first two parts on the bottom, where Taeyon was making headway on finishing the whole library by summer.

‘Just go into the her room,’ I told him. He shrugged and walked into the guest room, which was now Taeyon’s room as I’d mentioned. The gesture would have been obnoxious, but the way he did it –nonchalantly but with his face flaming(he’d never actually been in her room before –they were strictly living room and library) –made it almost charming. I stood by the door while he hovered around, furtively throwing glances around the room.

 ‘Do you want a drink?’ I asked again.

 ‘Your parents let you keep alcohol in the house?’ he looked surprised.

However, I was a little more surprised by his answer. ‘We don’t keep alcohol in the house.’

‘You just asked me if I wanted a drink.’ He looked a little confused with himself. I think the cold might have given him a brain freeze.

I said so, and added, ‘There’s a bit more to the drinking world than alcohol.’

He looked surprised, then laughed, flushing again. And I have no idea why, but I started laughing with him like it was the funniest joke I’ve ever heard. Although technically, there was no joke in it. which was proven by the fact that as soon as I giggled, he stopped laughing and looked at me with a serious expression. ‘Are you laughing at me?’

 I rearranged my face in what was hopefully a poker face.

‘Knock, knock,’ he said suddenly.

‘Who’s there?’ I asked.

‘Orange!’ he answered.

‘Orange who?’

‘Orange you glad to see me?’ he waggled his eyebrow like a vaudeville –and once again, without the actual funniness in the situation, both of us cracked at the horrible joke he’d just said. The little tirade went on for about twenty minutes, and I was pretty sure I humiliated myself at some point when I dredged up every single joke I’ve heard in the third grade –even the ones I’d already deemed too humiliating to repeat in public.

Finally, we needed to take a breath and actually think of a proper joke. He was lying down on the bed clutching his stomach. Then the inevitable silence that always follows the uncontrollable laughter. And he was looking at me intently like he was curious about how I really looked.

‘I like you,’ he said.

‘Well, don’t sound too surprised. Everybody likes me,’ I replied nonchalantly.

He leaned his head on the side of the bed and stared at me some more. The fringe that was always shielding half his face fell away, and I realized he might actually be more attractive than I originally thought. ‘It doesn’t really matter that everybody likes you. The point is, I do.’

There were footsteps outside the window. He snapped to attention and walked to the window like he owned the place. ‘Just the guard. Rounding.’ He muttered. ‘Don’t worry.’

I understood the ‘Don’t worry.’ Because I admit, I didn’t want it to be Taeyon. I wanted to stay like that, just enjoying Kai’s company –and for the first time since Chanyeol, I could be around a boy without feeling the need to bash his head on the floor and feed him to the stray cats who sometimes manage to get in the house(I still have no idea how they do that).

‘Let’s listen to music,’ Kai said suddenly.

I said sure, assuming he’d turn on the stereo that was staring straight at us. But instead, he pulled out his iPod, which was covered in stickers(I assume that was Taeyon’s doing) that ranged from Hello kitty to Marvel heroes. He scanned it for the album he wanted then beckoned me forward with a finger. I sat beside him and he slipped one earbud in my ear. I recognized the song immediately. It was actually one of my favorites –Enya, Sweet November. It seemed to ease itself from the earphone to my head. Kai leaned against his hands and looked up at Taeyon’s sky-blue ceiling. I closed my eyes and felt the song –felt my breathing, felt ...happy.

Song followed song. At one point, i realized we might have already been sitting there for hours, which meant it was nearing dinnertime(where was Taeyon?). i let it go. There was something about the silence that made me feel comfortable. He wasn’t talking to me, but i didn’t feel at all ignored –unlike those many times i felt alone in a crowd. It just felt like we both knew we were part of the same moment, and it didn’t need any definition.

Finally, I decided to talk, ‘Do you think I’m an unbearable drama queen?’

He snorted. I felt his body turn to me. ‘What?’

I shrugged, a little embarrassed I said anything. I thought he’d turn back to the ceiling, to the music. Instead he stared at me for almost a minute. I felt his warm breath on my cheek. Eventually, I opened my eyes and turned to look back at him.

‘No,’ he said finally. ‘I don’t think that. I do think that sometimes, you let yourself feel bad about things too much ...but clearly that’s something you and change.’

The answer took me by surprise. How can you spend hours every day trying in small ways to figure yourself out, and then have a near-stranger give you a sentence of yourself that says it better than you ever could? We sat there looking at each other. It made us both smile.

Then out of the blue –somewhere blue and hidden in me, i found myself saying, ‘I like you too. Really, i like you.’ There was something so intimate about saying the truth out loud. There was something so intimate about hearing yourself say the truth out loud. There was something so intimate about sharing the truth, even when you’re not completely sure what it meant. And that’s when he leaned in to kiss me once, lightly, on the lips. As if he’d read exactly what i needed.

It broke the spell. It’s not that I stopped feeling happy. I was still, utterly, inexplicably happy. But suddenly the implications of that happiness presented themselves. My face must have shown it.

‘I –I...’ Kai stuttered, his voice freaking out a little bit. ‘I shouldn’t have done that.’

‘No,’ I told him.

‘Really, I shouldn’t have.’ He stood up, and I sat there for a few more seconds, watching the indentation on the cushion rise up. Then I stood up. Kai started to walk away, the action looking almost involuntary. I stayed where I was, but turned to face him when he got to the doorway. He made noises that must have been some sort of excuse for leaving, and I muttered something just as unintelligible about understanding why he had to leave. Before he left, he said simply, ‘I wanted to.’

I waited until I was sure he really wanted to leave before answering, ‘I did, too.’

(OMAKE)Author-nim

As many of you probably noticed, my title is based on the novel by Rachel Cohn and David Levithan(cheers, mates!), and the plot is based loosely on the said plot. I’m having a hard time compressing it into five chapters T.T

Sorry to say I’m not into writing Yuri though I have to use two girls as the main characters D: I can write decent (something coming soon as soon as I start writing regularly again –I have a new laptop now, so hooray!) but I can’t seem to come to terms with the girlxgirl thing. Although I ship girlxgirl OTPs all the time. Am I being silly? I wrote a yuri version first, and it was more vulgar(not though) and liberal in the language sense, but when I re-read it, it felt like a mechanical, cliché storyline. And it made me want to kill myself. No aspiring writer should let someone else read her work which she herself thinks is not good enough.

That’s why it’s for a fact that I have about a hundred and sixteen(that’s a bluff, I really counted them) finished and unfinished stories on my flash drive which I’ve written in the past year, and I only publicized about twenty of them. XD Stupid me. I keep rewriting the bunch and redressing the prose because I’m a stupid perfectionist.

Also, there’s the fact that I can’t seem to write a straight comedy, which is downright depressing, because it was supposed to be one. So I’m going for the comical satire-slash-parody thing. Is it working? I keep reading the chapters to myself and looking for something to smile about. I’m beginning to think I’m just too downright depressing to be able to write something fun.

I’ll try to do better next time!

XOXO,

Alexses