Page 10 of Teach Me K-Pop

“Well, I will not be doing any flipping or playing any instruments, but I will definitely be yelling, and I have been known to shake some pom-poms from time to time,” I admit.

Nikko’s whole face lights up as he requests, “Please have someone take a picture.”

“Absolutely not!” I laugh, imagining asking Tyler or another teacher to snap a photo of me with a handful of blue-and-gold plastic strands to show Nikko later.

“That is disappointing.” He makes an exaggerated sad expression and even though I know it’s fake, it’s almost enough to make me reconsider.

“Maybe next time.”

He perks up immediately. “Yes, please.” His phone buzzes with some sort of notification, and he grabs it to check. “I must go. Get some sleep, okay?”

“That’s the plan.” I cover my mouth as another yawn creeps up on me. I make a mental note to change out of my pajamas next time. Maybe that will help some.

“Please take care of yourself, Jase,” he says. “I like talking to you.”

It almost sounds like an afterthought—a whisper—but there’s something else that kind of sounds like a confession. I’m not sure how that makes me feel. Before I can say anything, he’s smiling at me again—the one I only see as we’re about to say goodbye; the one that turns some part of my brain inside out and upside down.

I don’t even get a chance to respond before the call clicks off, the image of his face somehow lingering on my screen for just a second before disappearing completely.

I’m still thinking about it when I crawl back into bed and close my eyes.

CHAPTERFOUR

JASE

“Babygirl.Please.”

Noel completely ignores me as she sniffs around the shrubbery, investigating as though some major event has occurred in this exact area in the nine hours between us being here right now and when we were standing in this precise spot before I went to work this morning.

“I know you have business to do, little dog,” I grumble.

Thanks to an after-school run-in with Tyler, who was complaining about having to sleep on the couch after forgetting his anniversary, and finding out the principal wants to put me in charge of yet another committee, I am running late. Normally, Noel and I would take a nice walk before thinking about dinner or whatever else the evening might hold. But today, I am keeping an eye on my watch because I have three minutes until I’m supposed to be in front of my computer for my session with Nikko, and I don’t want to keep him waiting.

Because that would be unprofessional, obviously. Certainly not because I’d been looking forward to seeing him all day. Which I would also do with any other student, of course. In a strictly educational service providing capacity. I keep telling myself this, like I’m trying to convince my own conscience that everything is fine.

The mail carrier decides to drive by in their little white postal van at that moment, of course, distracting Noel from the one task she’s out here to accomplish.

“Noel! Potty first, bark later!” I plead. I start walking toward the house, hoping she’ll take the hint. She does, finally, and I scoop her up to get her back inside. Dropping her on the couch, I quickly take her harness off and toss it on the ottoman to deal with later.

I allow myself one deep breath to attempt to slip into Serious Business Mode before connecting the call. I know it won’t last; it never does. I’ve all but given up on trying to keep our calls casual and impersonal. I don’t know what it is about Nikko, but everything about this has been different from the beginning.

Sure, he’s older than the students I usually tutor, so we can talk about more things. He’s also smart and interesting, which makes him a good conversational partner. And there is the possibility that he is the most gorgeous person I’ve ever seen. But really, I just like talking to him.

Maybe, though, that’s the crux of it right there, and Kija was right when he set this up for us, saying I needed the social interaction. I’d never tell him that, obviously. Would never admit he might have been right that I was missing this kind of connection.

I wonder for just a second—a fleeting moment—if it’s time to download a dating app again. I know that “dating” is an awfully strong word for what happens on most of them, and that’s what keeps me away, too. I don’t want to hook up with someone. I’ve never been that guy who could just hit and quit it. And I don’t want to be that guy now, either.

But maybe there’s someone out there who actually wants to get to know a person before the negotiation of whose body parts go where begins.

I startle when the chime comes through. It’s become something of a race—who can call the other first, the moment the designated time arrives. Even with the changes to our meeting time, neither of us have ever missed.

As soon as I see Nikko come into view, smiling as he squints at the screen, I forget everything I’d just been thinking about.

Instead of his usual probably-fresh-from-the-gym look, he’s more dressed up than I’ve ever seen him. He’s wearing a black shirt that fits him better than the tee shirts I’m used to, earrings all hoops instead of the variety of dangles and chains, and his hair is styled instead of tucked under a hat or held back by a headband. He looks so good that I honestly can’t remember a single word to say to start the conversation.

“Hello, Jase.” He smiles and gives me a little wave, light glinting off the rings on his fingers.

Entirely overwhelmed by everything he is, I’m not sure I know my own name right now. This will absolutely be embarrassing when I recall it later.

---