Plopping down on my bed, I shifted to sit cross-legged and towelled off my hair. I'd gone skating today and skated hard, hard enough to warrant a shower afterwards. Part of what had driven me so hard was the sheer joy of physical exertion; a smaller but significant part was me running from the new meaning the ice rink had taken on after Namjoon's sudden confession weeks ago.
The guilt I felt at my response had simmered down to be much less painful than before, but his disappointment and hurt still came to mind every time I thought of him. His messages and calls being so deliberately normal had helped a lot – he was obviously trying hard to do as I'd asked and stay as just friends. I was trying too, trying so hard, but things still didn't feel right.
Shaking my head slightly, I sponged at the dampest ends of my hair and then draped my towel over an empty laundry basket. I'd hang it up in a few minutes, but first it was time for the daily check for a history test grade.
I really didn't understand how the professor was allowed to take so long to grade things, but I supposed as a tenured professor he could afford to do things the way he wanted to do them at the pace he found most appealing. And if that was a snail's pace, well, I'd just have to deal with it.
Logging on to the site, I crossed my fingers as it loaded. There were no new notifications, which meant no new grades, but I went to the history course's grade section anyways. No new results there either – just the terrible test grade from last time that still gave me anxiety when I thought about it.
Oh well. I logged off and went to check my email. Nothing exciting there, although I took another look at the email Namjoon had sent with my ticket.
I'd been a little bit surprised that he had still gotten me a ticket, but he really was treating me as though he'd never said a thing about his feelings. For a few minutes when I'd first gotten the email I'd stared at it and contemplated sending a reply back, saying I didn't think it was fair for him to be giving me a free ticket and I didn't want to make things weird between us. I'd decided eventually, though, that if he was going to ignore his confession then so was I. Besides, I was sure that returning the ticket would make things worse than just attending would.
The concert wasn't until mid-December, still weeks away, but I was already starting to worry a bit about what it would be like. Was I supposed to dress up, would there be huge lines outside, would I actually be able to see him without binoculars – so many questions. Thankfully he'd given his parents and Areum tickets too, so they'd agreed to meet me before the concert and go together. They were much more experienced concert-goers, I was sure.
I still had to figure out, though, my question of what to expect musically. I'd listened to a few songs from Namjoon's band, but certainly not all – and probably only a couple that were likely to be played in a concert, I was guessing. I thought it would be nice to remedy that beforehand.
So, after hanging up my towel, I dove into his group's music. I spent a couple minutes scrolling indecisively as I tried to decide which, exactly, of their songs I should start with, but decided to stick with what would be easiest – chronologically. There was no way I was making it through his band's entire discography in one sitting, or one day even. Going by dates would help me be able to jump back in without accidentally listening to things twice or skipping things.
That was my plan, anyways. When the first song of the first album started with an anxiety-inducing recorded English voice, I almost regretted it, but then the actual music came in with some deliciously old-school record scratching and I had to grin. As I adjusted my headphones, slid my phone into my back pocket, and got up to start a load of laundry, the grin wouldn't go away – to think that they'd started with this music style, and come to the more polished pop sounds I'd heard in some of their more recent songs? I couldn't wait to listen to the transformation.
A load of laundry and a quick tidy of my room took me through the first one and a half albums, and the creation of some new history flashcards extended that to three and a half. When I wrapped a hairtie (no rubber band having conveniently presented itself) around the flashcards and tucked them into my backpack, I scrolled through the list of albums again. It was definitely going to take me three or four days to get through it all at this rate, but I had the time.
I took one last longing look at my laptop, but elected not to check the history grades again. The professor had probably gone to sleep hours ago, there was absolutely no reason to expect anything new.
So, with a sigh, I plugged in my phone and got ready for bed. Musing over the very limited extension to my knowledge of Namjoon's songs, I came to the conclusion that I should've started listening to his songs long before this – it was a new facet of him to discover, this artist-performer-idol side, and so far it was proving fascinating.
When I turned off the light and unplugged my phone to set my alarm, I saw that I had a message from Namjoon. Sliding under the covers, I looked at the time and decided that I could take a few minutes to reply.
His message immediately raised my pulse and made me regret my decision: Hi Chunhwa! Have you heard anything about that test yet?
NO!!! I replied, adding a string of appropriately irate emojis. I'm feeling less confident about the results by the day.
He actually replied right away – he must have been working in the studio or something and had time to check his phone. I'm sure you did fine.
I'll find out, I guess. Someday, if I don't die of old age before this professor finishes grading the exams.
xD, he sent, just that one emoticon, and I smiled. God, sometimes he texted like a person who had just learned the internet existed yesterday and was trying really hard to blend in with everyone. It was really funny and kind of cute.
Lol anyways, I'm looking forward to your concert! I sent back. Thanks again for getting me a ticket. I'm studying really hard to be able to go!
He replied, Awesome! I hope you'll enjoy it. You're all set to meet my family and come in with them, right?
Yep, we have the details worked out!
Great, he said. Thanks for coming, Chunhwa. I didn't know if you'd want to or not.
Of course I want to! Do you think I'd pass up on getting to see what you do for a living? I debated telling him that I'd listened to a few of his albums, then decided against it. It would be better to finish all of them and decide on a favorite song so I'd be armed with something to talk about before we had that conversation. I'm excited for it! But, sorry, right now I'm kind of starting to get tired :/ And I need to get a full night's sleep so I can study hard tomorrow and the next day and every day until the concert!
Of course, he replied. Sleep well!
You too, I wrote. You probably need it more than I do!
Maybe. Good night, Chunhwa!
Sending off a return Good night, I turned my phone to silent and set it to the side of the bed on my stack of textbooks. After a minute of staring at the darkness while thinking of Namjoon's concert ahead and my test grade that hung in limbo, I sighed, flipped on my bedside lamp, and pulled the history textbook out from under my phone. I could manage another few pages before sleep – anything to help me calm my nerves and keep my promise to attend his concert.
*
It wasn't really a surprise that the first and only thing I thought to do when I woke up was check my grades, but what was surprising was the little red circle at the bottom of the notification bell. There was no way it was actually the history grade, not after I'd complained so much –
Except yes, it was the grade for my history test. I stared at the 87%, the grade I'd worked so hard for, and couldn't stop my stupid grin.
I'd never been happy about an 87% grade in my life, but here and now this spelled victory. It was high enough that I'd be able to pass the class if I kept it up; more important, it was proof that I could still set goals and accomplish them. One bad day, and one terrible grade, didn't mean my entire education would be sucked into the whirlpool of trauma. The university therapist had said something like that, but I'd needed some concrete proof to hold onto.
After a few more moments of internal rejoicing, I logged off and shut my laptop. Glancing at my phone, I wondered if I should tell Namjoon. Probably, right? He'd texted last night asking about the exam, after all. But no matter how normal he acted, there was no way he was over his feelings this quickly, and I didn't want to give him false hope. Not again.
Then again, maybe he was over it. Maybe what I'd talked about when turning him down had made him realize what a mess I was and how difficult a relationship with me would be. Perhaps he even regretted speaking up at all.
Stretching out with a gusty sigh, I decided to take what he'd said at face value: forget he ever said anything about feelings for me. He'd been acting like a normal friend, so a normal friend he would be. And would I have told him about passing the test a month ago?
Yes, I would have.
So I sent off a message saying that I'd finally gotten a grade and had gotten the percentage I needed to have a chance to pass the class. I then turned my attention to the piece I'd written about my experience – I'd shown it to a friend from a journalism class last semester, and she'd given me some in-depth feedback. It would be difficult, but I wanted to incorporate that before bringing up the piece to my boss.
Some hours later, after I'd made very little progress on revising but had finished my homework for three classes, I remembered to check my phone. Namjoon had sent, Awesome!!! I'm so glad to hear that :D About an hour later, he'd added, Do you want to meet up to celebrate? It's been a while since we went skating.
Pursing my lips together, I tilted my head. Meet up? Namjoon had been normal enough over text, but how would meeting in person go? We were still trying to mend the awkward spot in our friendship; I was worried that seeing each other again would start us back from square one.
My thumbs hesitated over the screen, fiddling in midair, and I finally gave one shake to my head. I'd been overthinking things all day, or really ever since Namjoon had said he had feelings for me, and it was time to stop.
Sure! I sent. You want to meet there at 6:30? That was still more than four hours away, plenty of time to actually tackle the revision.
It wasn't long before he confirmed the time. I smiled – misgivings aside (and I had decided to put them aside for now), I was looking forward to skating with him again. The ice was fine alone, but even better with someone to talk to beside me.
With that anticipation growing, I turned back to the revision. I'd throw myself into it and consider the skating afterward a reward. No matter how frustrated I got, meeting up with Namjoon at the rink would help me forget all the finicky reorganizing and rewriting I would need to do to finish this piece.
*
Namjoon showed up just over half an hour late, dashing onto the ice with apologies already spilling out of his mouth the moment I was within hearing range.
"Namjoon, it's totally fine," I said, holding up a hand as he skated up to me. "No worries at all, I understand."
He sighed. "Sorry, just couldn't get away."
"I thought I said it was fine? No more apologies. Besides, that just means I'm already warmed up." I grinned at him and put on some speed.
He groaned but caught up. "Have you been skating a lot recently? I feel like you're better than the last time we did this together."
I shrugged. "I don't know about a lot, but I've certainly been coming here more than I used to."
"Oh, so does that mean you'd be ready for a race?" he asked, shooting me a perky grin.
Laughing, I shook my head. "You're really hung up on the whole race thing, aren't you?"
"Come on, Chunhwa, aren't you even the slightest bit curious whether you'd beat me or not?"
I glanced at him, mock-sizing him up, and actually considered the question. "Okay yeah, maybe a bit, but am I curious enough to put my pride on the line like that?"
Laughing, he reached out to lightly push my arm. "Oh, your precious pride? Would losing to me really damage your pride that much, huh?"
"Obviously."
He sighed, looking off at the rink walls. "Well then, perhaps I should give up, shouldn't I?"
"For now." I paused, debating my next words, then went for it. "After all, if I'm going to lose, I want you to be completely ready. If you weren't even warmed up yet but I lost anyway, that would actually hurt my pride."
He turned so quickly that for a second I was afraid he was going to be the one falling for a change. "So, there's the possibility of a race once I'm warmed up?"
"Maybe," I said, laughing. "No promises."
He grinned, cutting in towards the middle of the rink only to make a sharp turn and come back. "Very exciting indeed."
"Okay, if you're going to show off like that then I might just change my mind."
"Does that even count as showing off? I'm not even doing anything fancy."
"It counts in my book," I said. "I still feel anxious about the turns when I go around the edge of the rink, and those are much gentler turns than what you just did."
He started taking slower, wider steps, stretching his legs more. "You're doing great, seriously. It's crazy to think how bad you were the first time we went skating."
"I want to argue, but I was definitely terrible."
"It was like you completely forgot everything you learned about skating as a kid. I thought skating was supposed to be one of those things like riding a bike, where you never really forget how to do it?"
"I have no idea," I said. "On the one hand it seems like you'd remember how to do anything you've done repetitively over a long period of time, but on the other, your brain is a big computer that only keeps the important stuff."
"Valid point, but I really do not like the 'brains are like computers' comparison."
"Oh really?"
"Yeah, brains and computers are just so different, and even though computers are powerful there are just so many more things brains can do. The human brain can take in hundreds of bits of information from visual, auditory, sensory, and even just gut feeling sources and snap to a decision in milliseconds. It should put anyone in awe, the capacity of the human brain."
"But the human brain is also capable of astonishing stupidity."
He laughed. "That too, but in so many more interesting ways than computers and technology can be stupid. I just find it inadequate to compare the vast and complex human neural network to a machine that has to be programmed."
I hummed an agreement, skating alongside him, then added, "To be honest, Namjoon, it mostly sounds like you're jealous of computers and trying desperately to fend off the possibility that they could ever measure up to human standards."
"Excuse me, jealous?" he said incredulously, and I chuckled. "Frankly, though, who doesn't find the idea of a completely competent artificial intelligence terrifying?"
"Oh, I think it's is a fascinating idea! Wouldn't it be exciting to find out what a non-human intelligence thinks like?"
"Exciting?!"
So we talked about AI for nearly half an hour, with a small deviation to ponder theoretical alien cognition, as we went around and around the rink. At last, when we'd talked ourselves into near-agreement, I tapped Namjoon's arm with the back of my hand. "Ready for that race?"
He grinned, immediately dropping his complex conclusion. "Ready and waiting."
"Okay then. How many times around the rink?"
"Three?"
I nodded, adjusting my shoulders to resettle my jacket. "Sounds good." As we drew close to the entrance and exit from the ice, I lowered my center of gravity a bit. "On your mark... get set... go."
It was absolutely terrifying, racing around the ice with a rush of cold air against my face, but it was exhilarating at the same time. I'd never skated this fast before – close, but not quite. Amid the fear of falling at any moment, I listened to the bite and slide of my skates across the ice, my quick breaths, and the same sounds from Namjoon behind –
Behind me.
I grinned and resisted the urge to dig deeper into the ice, sticking with my current pace so I wouldn't fall. Around we went, once, twice, thrice, and although I almost fell once and he almost caught up several times, I blasted past the entrance/exit first at the end of the third round.
As I coasted along, I started to raise my hands in victory, felt myself wobble, and decided against it. Instead I looked back at Namjoon, who was bent over with his hands on his knees.
"Tired?" I asked cheerfully, skating over to him and patting his shoulder.
He looked up at me, huffing out a breath. "No, just trying to figure out how I lost to someone who basically started from scratch a few months ago."
I shrugged. "Maybe I'm just better than you." He stood up to glare at me, and I laughed. "Well, I was on the inside most of the time and you were on the outside. That probably didn't help."
He shook his head, smiling. "Nope, the best thing I can figure is that you won fair and square."
"Well thank you."
"I knew you could, you know. It just took a very long time to convince you."
"Oh, if we had tried this even a couple weeks ago I'm sure I would have lost."
"Then maybe it's a good thing we waited this long." He skated up and slung an arm over my shoulder. "What do you think, how about a couple slow laps to cool down and then we get some food or something to celebrate?"
"Sure," I said. "Sounds good."
We took the turns in near silence, and I had time to think. This had felt so natural, so like the friendship I was comfortable with; I hadn't even thought of his confession once until now. Now, though, as it crossed my mind, his arm around my shoulders grew heavy with significance. Would he take the fact that I hadn't moved away yet as a sign that I was changing my mind, or was it truly just a friendly congratulations?
He broke away to step off the ice. I sighed as I followed, hoping I hadn't screwed up again and given him false hope.
After some minor disagreement over whether or not I would let him be the one to buy takeout, we returned our skates and wound up heading to my apartment for just some hot drinks. Jisuk and her boyfriend were there, sequestered in her room watching a drama, so after I peeked in to say hello & that I had company, I shut their door around and put on the kettle.
Namjoon was leaning on the counter, looking around at the apartment. "Have I been here since... that day?"
I shrugged, reaching into the cabinets. "I don't remember – I don't think so, though."
"It feels... odd."
Giving a short laugh, I pulled my selection of teas and drink mixes out. "Imagine how I felt."
He nodded as I spread the selection of possibilities on the counter in front of him. "It must have been so much worse for you."
"Yep." Sorting through the packets on the counter, I added, "I have some teas, mostly herbal, it looks like a couple hot chocolate mixes, and...." I picked one packet up to examine more closely. "What the hell, this is a cheese packet for macaroni and cheese!" I tossed it in the trash. "Looks like tea or hot chocolate are our two options."
"Hmm." Namjoon pondered them for a moment, then looked at me. "What are you having?"
Crossing my arms, I regarded the selection. "I think I'll have to go with my favorite, chamomile tea. It's very calming, and of course tastes amazing."
"Not hot chocolate?"
"Not today." I shrugged. "I feel like hot chocolate is better to drink when you're outside or have spent a lot of time outside in the winter. Tea is for relaxing."
He smiled, reaching out to snag a packet of chamomile tea. "Then I'll have the same thing."
"Whatever you say."
While the kettle boiled and our tea brewed, Namjoon went through my movie collection looking for something we could watch. (I'd asked him if he really had time to watch a movie after skating, and he'd said something about how he'd be really busy up until the concert and wanted to take advantage of whatever time he had. Privately I thought he could probably use some sleep, but that was his choice not mine.)
At last I pulled out the tea bags, brought our mugs in, and set them on the tiny table in front of the couch. "Did you find something?" I asked Namjoon, who was no longer over by the TV and our movie collection but was instead sitting on the couch.
"Yes, and I already have it set up." He gestured at the screen, which had a paused image on it.
"Oh, and what is it?"
"You'll find out," he said with a grin.
Laughing, I sat on the couch next to him. "Okay, let's go."
As he pressed play on the remote, I took a sip of my chamomile tea and hummed. "That is good," I said softly.
"I'll have to try it." He reached out to take his tea, hand big around the mug, and took a sip. His first reaction was to make a very doubtful face, so I had to chuckle.
"Sorry, it might not be your – oh goodness I was about to say 'it might not be your cup of tea' and it wasn't even on purpose," I said, laughing.
"Thankfully you caught yourself," he said with his own little laugh. After a second, he took another sip and shrugged. "It's not bad at all. I just sometimes forget that herbal teas kind of taste like grass."
"They do not!" I said, aghast.
He chuckled. "Shh, I'm going to miss what's happening in the movie."
"Uh huh," I said, shaking my head.
Half an hour later, he was definitely missing what was happening in the movie because he was asleep. His neck was crooked in a really uncomfortable-looking angle, and for a moment I had the impulse to scooch over and gently lean his head onto my shoulder. But no, that would be too much like dating, and I'd already gotten his hopes up only to dash them. I'd been the one to draw the line in the sand, so I needed to be especially careful not to cross it.
As I looked at his face, though, relaxed as it was in sleep, it hurt. To figure out what exactly hurt would have taken a lot more thinking than I wanted to do just then, but it hurt.
Instead of thinking about it anymore, or watching Namjoon sleep like some psycho stalker, I took the mugs into the kitchen and washed them as the movie played on. I'd seen it before, so I didn't need to see the screen to keep up.
Namjoon woke up almost an hour after I sat back down on the couch, blinking over at me. "What did I miss?"
"Almost the whole movie, I'm afraid," I said. "It's okay, we can watch it again some other time."
He nodded. "Yeah. That sounds good. Sorry about that."
"Oh, Namjoon, don't you dare be sorry. I'm not sure how you stay on your feet with the sleep schedule it sounds like you have." I grinned. "Plus, chamomile tea can help people sleep, so I guess we shouldn't have been surprised."
He laughed. "You didn't tell me about that part."
"Well, it doesn't really make me sleepy, so I forgot."
"Okay." He sighed, then stood up with a small groan. "I'd better get back. Thanks for meeting up, Chunhwa, and congratulations on passing your test."
"Thanks." He held his arms open, so after a moment of hesitation I gave him a quick hug and walked him out. "I hope your concert preparations will go well."
"Thanks Chunhwa. Talk to you later!"
"Yep. Bye!"
He left, and I headed toward bed myself, unsure of how Jisuk and her boyfriend still had the energy to keep watching dramas at this late hour. Maybe if it was a good one, it would be worth staying up for. I'd have to ask what drama they were on now – they'd gone through several by now and I could no longer keep up with their drama-watching exploits.
As I slid into bed I heard them giggle through the wall, and I smiled. I wasn't sure I wanted to watch dramas all the time like that when I did feel like I was ready to date again, but a similar habit of doing something together frequently? I did want that.
Setting my alarm, I smiled. Who would have ever thought that Jisuk and the calculus guy would be any kind of couple goals? Jisuk would be so happy when I told her.
Maybe I'd also tell her that, overall, if you ignored some small awkward moments, I was starting to do an okay job of treating Namjoon like the good friend he was instead of overthinking everything.
***
A/N: Merry Christmas! I hope you all, whether you celebrate Christmas or not, have gotten to enjoy some quality time at home (yes, that is an NCT reference but I still mean it!) with your families, pets, or whoever your loved ones are. I'm sorry this chapter is so late - I don't know why this one was such a struggle. Thank you so much for reading! I really appreciate all of you! ❤❤❤