All My Words for You | TXT Huening Kai

Chapter 3

The dance studio is called Playground LA. Upon seeing the sign, I almost turn straight around. What level on the scale of stupid decisions did I achieve in the Starlit Games parking lot?

I turn around, hiding in the shadow of a clothing boutique. Melrose Avenue is alive with tourists and regulars alike, and all are unaware of the sweat beginning to form on the nape of my neck. If anyone were to ask me what's wrong?, I wouldn't be able to answer. I'd just attempt to shrug my shoulders and smile politely—as if looking calm is the same thing as being. With anxious and empty thoughts swirling in my head, I freeze in this position for quite a while. Maybe I really am useless for everything but sweeping underneath tables and polishing computer screens.

"Excuse me, are you Huening Kai's friend?"

I turn around to face the blaring sunlight and one of Huening Kai's teammates. This one has more piercings than I'd ever dare to get in a lifetime. His lips are pouty, and his hair is mostly covered by a black bucket hat. He wears sweatpants accompanied by a gunmetal jacket with buttons in asymmetrical positions.

He definitely recognizes me, and his fox's smile confirms it. He seems to waver for a bit, those pouty lips pursing slightly. Then he reaches out and takes my hand. "Huening Kai can't really stop talking about you." We take off in the direction of Playground LA, my doom drawing near in the form of its looming sign. "It's a good thing I can speak English too. I'll act as your correspondent."

A correspondent needs both parties to speak to him, I want to say.

Yeonjun lets go of my hand as we enter the studio. The air condition should partly cool my nerves, but my panic is elevated instead. My sweat turns cold. The pull in my chest unravels to a panicky whirlpool.

Get a hold of yourself, seriously. Sometimes, silence doesn't mask the fact you're a complete mess inside.

"Okay, okay." Yeonjun doesn't seem to mind my eyes being wider than a deranged cat's. "You can wait here. I think Huening Kai is signing up near the front desk."

I watch the stylish boy walk off, drowned out in a tidal wave of other confident dancers. The conversations are all related to the coming lesson. Someone complains about the ankle they almost sprained. Another person laughs so loud I swear the glass behind me trembles in matching joy. I feel lost.

There was no specific time that I became aware that I can't speak in public. But there was one instance where I first hated this particular part of myself. I walked into the cafeteria at Orion Elementary in the fourth grade and sat down at my usual table—with a few others who were also quiet. Except... the kids weren't so quiet anymore. They'd formed their own clique, talking about the latest Pokémon game with just as much fervor as the loudest, most eccentric kids in the lunchroom. After a few bites of square pizza, I turned downwards, facing the wooden laminate of the table, and tried to form the first syllable of hello. Nothing came out but a faint whisper of air. And when I looked up, the classmates I thought were closest to me were staring, snickering. One thought echoed throughout my little skull that day—where am I supposed to sit now?

I have a similar feeling right now, like belonging is a word that doesn't quite fit into my vocabulary. I'm tempted to sneak out, but then I wouldn't get to see the sunshine-like, beautiful boy again. Gosh, the hopeless romantic in me is not letting loose. Sometimes, you'll do anything for a chance for something different. For someone different.

"Nova!" Huening Kai runs up to me, parting the sea of dancers.

Over his shoulder, his teammates wave. By the time I wave back, Huening Kai is only a foot away.

"Are you ready to dance?"

Even if I could speak, I'd never give him no as an answer, if only to sustain the stupidly contagious grin on his face.