He thought I was cute.
I practically skipped to Biology, forgetting I was late and disgraced. Making good impressions and avoiding awkward human interaction seemed pretty insignificant now. Mr. Banner glared at me, but I just smiled back at him. Mike and Angela were looking at me, too — curious. I shrugged, taking my seat.
Mr. Banner dropped a few cardboard boxes on Mike's table, telling him to pass them around.
"Okay, class," he started, and I was already suspicious of his pleased tone. "I want you take one piece from each box." He stuffed his hand into a latex glove, stretching it out and letting it snap back to his wrist. "The first should be an indicator card." He grabbed a white card with four squares on it and showed it to us. "The second is a four-pronged applicator" — he held up something that looked like a nearly toothless hair pick — "and the third is a sterile micro-lancet." He held a small piece of blue plastic and split it open.
"I'll be coming around with a dropper of water to prepare your cards, so please don't get started before I get to you." He began at Mike's table again, putting one drop of water into each of the four squares. "I want you to carefully prick your finger with the lancet..." He took Mike's hand and flipped it up, jabbing the spike into the tip of Mike's middle finger. "Put a small drop of blood on each of the prongs." He demonstrated, squeezing Mike's finger until blood dripped from the wound onto the card.
"And apply it to the card," Mr. Banner finished, holding the card up for all to see. "The Red Cross is having a blood drive in Port Angeles next weekend, so I thought you should all know your blood type. Those of you who aren't eighteen yet will need a parent's permission — I have slips at my desk."
He continued through the room with his water drops. My classmates around me were giggling and squealing as they had their fingers kebob'd. I wrinkled my nose. Pain hurt, and I tried to avoid it, but this seemed mandatory. The anticipation was making me uneasy.
Mr. Banner took one look at me, then asked, "Minho, are you okay?"
Maybe more than uneasy. I cleared my throat. "Yup, I'm okay. Sir."
He seemed skeptical, but he took my hand anyway.
The spike hadn't even pierced my skin when I fainted. I vaguely felt my head hit the table, heard the gasps of my classmates, and then I pulled myself up again — disoriented and deeply embarrassed already. I felt a small sting on my forehead, and Mr. Banner's hand on my shoulder. I looked up at him.
"I'm okay," I said.
"No, you're not," he replied. "Can someone take Mr. Lee to the nurse's office?"
"I can." I looked over to see Mike standing up from his table.
"Can you walk?" Mr. Banner asked me.
"Yes," I said, getting to my feet. My knees wobbled. "Um, Mike?"
He took the cue and threaded his arm under mine, steadying me. Mr. Banner moved out of the way, and we stumbled past him out into the hallway.
We made our way across campus. For once, the chilly air was nice. As soon as I was sure we were out of Mr. Banner's sight, I slowed.
"Can I just sit down for a minute?" I asked.
Mike let me down, and I practically slumped onto the edge of the sidewalk. I touched my forehead — it was sore. I groaned. I still felt like I was swaying.
"You fainted," Mike said nervously.
I looked up at him. "Yup."
"Do you feel any better?"
"I don't even know." I knew talking didn't help.
"Minho?" another voice said, and I was instantly alert. That familiar, melodic tone cured me in a second — less.
I looked up, and there he was — closer than I expected. He was trading glances between me and Mike.
"Are you okay?" In a balletic movement, he was on one knee, eye level with me, holding his hands out while also staying out of arm's-reach.
"I'm fine," I said quickly. His eyes were anxious, and it made me anxious.
"He fainted," Mike said, leaning down to our height.
"What happened to your forehead?" Jisung asked.
"It hit the desk," Mike answered.
"I wasn't talking to you," Jisung hissed, whipping his head to Mike. Mike flinched backward and fell on his butt. My eyebrows shot up.
Jisung turned back to me, eyes gentle. "Can I take you to the nurse?"
"I'm supposed to do it," Mike protested. I could tell he was trying to be tough, but his voice was small. I wondered why taking me to the nurse was the hill he was willing to die on — metaphorically, of course...
Jisung glared at him, and Mike instinctively put his hands up, like he was protecting himself. I rested my chin on my knees, wondering how much longer they were going to keep sparring.
"Can I pick you up?" Jisung asked then, moving closer to me. His honey eyes were devastatingly clear. I nodded blankly.
And then the pavement disappeared from underneath me, and Jisung held me in his arms (purposefully away from his body). Already we were walking toward the nurse's office, and away from Mike — whom I heard wheeze quietly from the corner of my ear. I almost couldn't tell we were moving; Jisung's gait was so graceful and controlled that I wasn't jostled at all. As soon as I got my bearings, I slyly hooked my arm around his neck.
He kept his eyes ahead of us.
I gave up trying not to stare. Being that close to him, I could see every detail of his skin. There was a strip of light on his nose, reflected from the grey sky, and it accentuated the soft roundness of it. His lips were thin, sort of heart-shaped, and the sweetest cotton-candy pink colour. I could see the slight remnants of acne scars on his cheeks — a change in texture. I was so mesmerized by his beauty that I unthinkingly brought my hand to his cheek and ran my thumb over the rough patch. His skin was still cold, but I didn't even want to interrogate him about it. I just wanted to keep staring at him, touching him.
His eyes darted to my face.
I sucked my lips into my mouth and took my hand away. "Sorry."
"So you pass out at the sight of blood?" he moved on.
I scoffed. "Bold of you to assume I needed more than a poker to my finger to make me faint."
He blinked at me, like he was sidetracked for a second. "Just the poker?"
"Yup."
"You're afraid of the wrong things."
I rolled my eyes. "You're not as scary as you think. I honestly can't tell if I'm speaking to a human or a puff pastry right now."
"Okay, do you want me to dump you right here on this sidewalk?"
"I know you won't."
He let me fall for a fraction of a second — I shrieked and flailed my arms — but he caught me, smiling and pulling me closer than he had before.
I hit his shoulder. "Jerk." But I linked my hands around his neck. "I thought you were ditching."
He shrugged. "I hadn't made it off the grounds yet."
"What were you going to get up to? I don't mean to pry," I tacked on.
"That's all right. I'd probably listen to music — in my car, or I'd drive home. Maybe play piano once I was there."
"So you're a musician?"
"I wouldn't call myself a 'musician...'" A sheepish smile. He must have been an exceptionally talented musician. "I sing a little, I play piano."
"So you know what C major is?"
"Yes."
"Wow, you're good."
He rolled his eyes, but he was smiling.
I didn't know how he opened the door while carrying me, but we were suddenly in the nurse's office.
"Oh my," a voice gasped. I looked up to see Ms. Cope rise from behind the receptionist's counter. "What happened?"
"I'm fine, I just fainted — briefly," I said. I didn't want to freak her out. I expected Jisung to let me down, but he kept walking past the counter. Ms. Cope hurried in front of him to open the nurse's door.
The nurse was a little old lady who was poring over a book and a cup of tea. A name tag on her lab coat said 'Nurse Hammond.' When she looked up, her jaw dropped. I waved self-consciously and apologized as Jisung lifted me onto the cot with crinkly paper.
Jisung spun around to stand on the other side of the room.
"What happened, sweetie?" Nurse Hammond asked, touching my forehead.
I sat up, demonstrating my fineness. She looked worried — more liable to faint than I was.
"Fainting spell, it's not serious."
Jisung walked a little closer, hands behind his back. "They were blood typing in Biology."
She nodded sagely. "There's always one."
Jisung laughed, and the sound of it totally overwhelmed Nurse Hammond, as well as me.
"Just lie down for a minute, it'll pass," she said to me, shaking her head.
"Thank you," I replied.
She turned to Jisung. "You can go back to class, hun."
"I'm supposed to stay with him, Ms.," he replied. I thanked my lucky stars.
"Well, if you're staying, would you like some tea?"
"You're too kind, but no, thank you. I'm more of a... coffee person." He grinned like he was enjoying an inside joke.
"Suit yourself, but it's chamomile," she singsonged. Jisung gave her the most crushingly beautiful smile I'd ever seen, and shook his head.
Nurse Hammond noticed I was still there. "Um, I'll go get you some ice for your forehead."
She left the room, and Jisung's eyes immediately focussed on me.
"You still look green."
"I'm fine."
"I know. I was scared for a second. It looked like Mike had murdered you. I thought I'd have to murder him in retribution." He looked like he was disappointed he didn't get the chance.
"What's up with you and Mike?"
"He doesn't like me."
"Why doesn't he like you?"
"Because I don't like him."
"Why don't you like him?"
He made a cute sound, and his shoulders bounced. "We have history."
"That's so vague."
"Exactly."
Nurse Hammond returned with a cold compress. "Here you go, dear." She laid it on my forehead.
She turned back to Jisung. "You know, you remind me of my grandson."
"Oh, what does he do?"
"He is a nurse at the hospital."
"If he's anything like you, then he must be impeccable at his job," he crooned. Nurse Hammond giggled.
"I don't usually do this, but would you like a lollipop?"
His head tilted like he was deliberating. "Um, yes, please, Ms."
Nurse Hammond rummaged around in her desk and pulled out a plastic tub full of suckers. She held it out to him.
His eyes flitted to me for the shortest second, and then he fished a strawberry lollipop from the bucket. He pocketed it.
"Thank you," he said sweetly to Nurse Hammond. She patted his head.
Ms. Cope peeked her face into the room. "We've got another one."
I took the compress from my forehead and hopped off the cot. My knees weren't shaky anymore. I joined Jisung at the other wall.
Mike staggered in with a kid named Lee Stevens — also from Bio — hanging off his shoulder.
I shuffled to the door and held it open. Jisung walked past me, and we left Nurse Hammond and Ms. Cope and Lee Stevens to do whatever it was they needed to do. I heard the door open and close again, and I turned around to see Mike sidling up to me.
"You look better," he said. His eyes flitted to Jisung, and then he looked back to me.
"Yup."
"Are you coming back to class?"
"I don't know if that's a good idea." Mr. Banner might try to stab me again.
"Yeah, I guess... So are you coming to the beach this weekend?"
While he was speaking, his eyes slipped toward Jisung again, who was leaning against the far wall, staring into space.
"Um, yeah, I said I'd be there." I didn't want to go, intrinsically, but I couldn't think of an excuse to get myself out of it, either.
"We're meeting at my dad's store, at ten." The way he pointed his mouth away from Jisung — as if that would keep him from hearing — made it clear it was not an open invitation.
"I'll be there."
"See you in Gym, then."
"Yeah."
He turned around and walked past Jisung, out the door. With the way his shoulders slumped, I felt bad for him. I thought about seeing his pouty face again... in Gym.
"Gym," I gagged.
"I can help with that." I hadn't noticed Jisung move to my side. "Go over there and look tired."
I was skeptical, but complied. It wasn't a problem to act tired — my sleep hadn't evened out since the dreams started. I sank down in one of the scratchy waiting room chairs and let my eyes close.
I heard Jisung speaking softly at the counter.
"Ms. Cope?"
"Yes?"
"Minho doesn't feel well enough to attend Gym. I think it would be better if I drove him home."
My eyes shot open for a second, and then I squeezed them closed again, remembering my ruse. Was he really going to drive me home? Maybe he just wanted an excuse to get out of school, too...
"Would you excuse him, please?" Jisung's voice was just the right mix of gentle and assertive, still intoxicating, like a knife sliding through butter.
"Oh, the poor dear," Ms. Cope said. "Do you need to be excused as well, Jisung?"
"I have Mrs. Goff — she won't mind."
"All right, it's taken care of. You're excused. You take care, Minho," she called to me.
"Thank you, Ms. Cope," I said back in a weak voice.
Jisung walked up to me and shoved his hands into his pockets.
"Do you want to walk, or should I carry you?"
I knew he was being sarcastic, but I put my arms up.
So he picked me up and toted me out into the rain. I told him to put me down a minute later. I felt like I was abusing the fact that he'd offered to carry me in the first place.
I stretched my legs as I fell into step with him. He was marching toward the parking lot.
"So you can just carry people around?" I said. And stop vans when they smash into you.
"It's, um, all in the knees."
"So if I just ran at you and jumped, you'd catch me."
He eyed me like I might actually do it. "I guess, but don't."
"I won't. And thanks. For getting me out of Gym. It almost makes fainting worth it." Aside from the dozens of other things that made fainting totally worth it — like talking to him, like being carried by him, like learning more about him.
"You're welcome." He smiled in that small way again — the way that pushed his cheeks up. I huffed ruefully. I should have squished them when I'd had the chance.
"Are you going to the beach this Saturday?" I asked. The thought of him being there painted the outing in another light entirely.
He brushed some wet hair from his forehead, mumbling a drawn-out, "Um."
I waited.
"I don't think I'm invited," he finally said.
"I'm inviting you right now, so..."
He smiled a little, sighed. "Let's not push Mike any further. He could snap." He mimed a snapping motion with his hands.
I pressed my lips into a line — the only sign of disappointment I allowed myself to show. Wow, I couldn't wait to pack myself into a crowded mini van, make small-talk with people I was Emotionally Ambiguous about, drive for hours just to sit on a cold, rocky shore and think about the one person who didn't come.
"See you later, I guess," Jisung said then, backing toward his car.
"Wait, aren't you driving me home?" I called without thinking.
His eyes opened wide, circular instead of the usual almond shape. "Um, do you want that?"
"I don't think I should drive myself," I hedged. "I could faint at the wheel, drive into a hydro pole and set everything on fire. So, yeah... but, I mean, unless you have other stuff to do..." I was such a dope. He had a day off now — why would he want to drive me home when he could go horseback riding or hang gliding or something cool he would definitely be amazing at?
"Sure, that would be okay."
Yes!
"Great." I took a step closer to him. And then another step. His beauty was like a siren song; it pulled me in, and I got lost in it. I could see every detail of his face, every bump and groove on his brown skin. I frowned.
"You okay?" he asked, backing up a little.
"Uh, yeah," I said, blinking. He was mesmerizing. "Thanks for the ride."
He walked to the Volvo and opened the passenger door.
I realized he was holding it for me. I shuffled forward and sank into the car. The inside was just as polished and fancy as the outside. It smelled stupidly good — I breathed more than was necessary.
It was barely half a second before he was swinging the driver side door open and climbing in.
"You don't have to drive me if there's something else you have to do," I told him, losing my confidence. I basically coerced him into doing this. "Like hang gliding or horseback riding."
"No, it's fine."
"So you don't hang glide or horseback ride?"
He looked like he was picturing it. He shook his head. "Those both sound terrifying."
"So you've never hang glided?" I was just making fun of him now.
"Do I look like someone who hang glides?"
"Maybe." I reached over — he flinched — took his arms, and positioned them outstretched over the steering wheel. I curled his hands into fists. I considered him. "No, not really."
His head veered to the side, and his mouth fell open wordlessly — like he had either too much to say or nothing at all. He gave up and fiddled with the buttons and levers on the dashboard. It didn't register that we were backing out of his parking spot until I looked away from his hands and out the windshield.
We were silent, but it didn't feel uncomfortable. Even if it was, I was too wrapped up in my own head to notice. I felt very aware of him. We hadn't been alone together in such a small, enclosed space. (The ambulance didn't count. The EMT dude was there, ruining the mood.) I stared out the window. We must have been going very fast; the outside world was a blur of grey and green and raindrops streaking across the window. The engine was unsettlingly quiet — even the rain sounded faraway.
I noticed jazz playing softly in the background. I cleared my throat. I was privy to what happened in cars sometimes, and the music coming from the car's stereo was almost comedically sensual.
Jisung had the same thought, I guessed. He turned the volume down till it was muted.
Then I realized we were parked. I squinted out the window and saw the vague outline of Charlie's house.
"What is your mother like?" Jisung asked in his warm, dulcet voice. I turned to look at him, and he was angled toward me. I shifted to face him, too.
"Um, she looks sort of like me, except shorter hair and more wrinkles," I said. "She's more extroverted than I am, and an optimist. We used to go clothes shopping. We ate breakfast together every morning. We would go to musicals, too, and sing the songs on the drive home. She's, uh, my best friend." A lump had caught at the back of my throat, so I stopped talking.
He'd been listening intently, like every word was important. "Why did she marry Phil?" was his next question.
I was surprised. I had mentioned Phil's name once or twice — weeks ago, and only in passing. Even when he wasn't being told anything particularly interesting, he was listening. I added that to the growing list of things I liked about him.
"My mom likes to feel young, and I think he makes her feel even younger. But she genuinely loves him, so, you know, whatever."
"Do you approve of them?"
"I don't think it would matter if I didn't."
"Hmm." His nose twitched to either side like he was thinking. "Do you... do you think she would do the same?"
"What?"
"Would she support you — no matter who your choice was?"
"You mean if I chose a guy?"
Why the hell did I say that? Was I a total idiot? Did I want to die alone? He probably meant facial piercings and sleeve tattoos and tight pants — why did I immediately think he was talking about gender?
"I didn't mean that, really...," he said cautiously. I made a mental note to drop the toaster in the bathtub and get in. "But, I mean, would you...? Are you...?"
Holy goddamn hell. "Um, yup. What about... you?" I had to know. If I didn't find out, I would die.
He cleared his throat. "Yeah." He was staring at the emergency brake. I couldn't help but stare at him. Did this mean he liked me? He said I was cute, he drove me home when he didn't have to... but just because he was into guys didn't mean he was into me. Guys who liked guys could be friends with other guys who liked guys — obviously. Of-goddamn-course the universe would demonstrate just how possible it was with me and this guy specifically. Goddamnit.
"So, what about your family?" I changed the subject.
He looked up at me again. "What about them?" His tone was playful.
"Dr. Bang adopted you?" I didn't know his other dad's name.
He nodded. "Mmhmm."
"What happened to your parents?"
"They died, um, a while ago." His tone was sober, not emotional in the slightest.
"I'm sorry."
"It's fine. I don't remember them very well, anyway. Chan and Haseong and the rest of them have been my family for a long time now."
"What about your brothers?"
His eyes flitted to the clock on the dashboard.
"My brothers will destroy me if they have to wait in the rain for me to pick them up..."
"Oh. Yeah, I guess you have to go." I shifted, so it gave the illusion that getting out of the car was something I wanted to do.
"And you probably want your truck back before your dad gets home. So he doesn't find out about the whole thing in Bio."
I briefly wondered how he'd get my truck back to me. I forgot immediately.
"That would be nice, but I doubt he hasn't already heard about it."
He smiled sympathetically. "Have fun on the beach."
"I won't." I smiled back. "Will you be there?"
"No. My brother and I are going hiking."
"Where are you going?"
"The Goat Rocks wilderness, just south of Rainier."
The words were all normal, but together they sounded stupid. "Okay, well, have fun." I tried to sound enthusiastic, but I don't think I fooled him. His eyes narrowed just a little.
After a second of silence, I decided to rip the bandage off. I reached for the door.
"Minho," he said. I whipped back to him. "Um. I got this at Nurse Hammond's office." He pulled a lollipop — the one he seduced out of the nurse — from his pocket. "I don't like them. But I thought you might. I guessed you would be okay with strawberry. I'm sorry."
I contained the burst of warmth in my chest and plucked the lollipop from his hand.
"I like strawberry," I said. "Thanks."
He smiled like he was relieved. "You're welcome. Bye."
"Bye."
I opened the door and climbed out of the car, into the pouring rain. I turned around to wave, but the Volvo was already gone. I couldn't be bothered by it. He had been thinking about me.
Later that day, while we ate dinner, Charlie made it clear that he had, in fact, heard about the Bio incident. He poked my hand with his fork, and then reached out as if to catch me — laughing the whole time. It was funny to see him so cheerful, so I laughed along.
That night, I slept soundly for the first time in a month, clutching the lollipop in my hands.
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About all that blood drive stuff, I copied it from Twilight, so that's why it doesn't make any sense (lol kidding but am I?). You don't have to think hard about it — it never comes back to the story.
bye bye <3