Page 5 of Teach Me K-Pop

“Not everyone is. Some people can talk to anyone about anything. It can be scary to start chatting with someone you don’t know. But it’s a good skill to have.” My mother is one of those never-met-a-stranger types. I’m fine talking when I need to, but I’ve never wanted to learn the intimate details of the lives of every person I encounter like she seems to.

I take another drink as he adjusts his beanie. “Can you tell me a little about yourself, Nikko?”

He looks startled for a moment. “Um.”

“Just whatever you’re comfortable with. I know we just met,“ I say with a joking tone. I think it’s a fairly innocuous inquiry, but I certainly don’t want to sound like someone who just sidled up to a bar and is hoping to score. As attractive as he is, I’m willing to bet he gets hit on all the time.

“I am 22,” he states, then pauses. “I am bad at making food.”

I can’t help but laugh. It’s not what I would have expected him to say, but it’s pretty endearing. “Me, too, Nikko. Me, too.”

There’s a hint of a smile on his lips and that makes me feel like I’m making some progress in helping him relax. “Do you go out to eat a lot? Or order delivery?”

“Some time?” He shrugs one shoulder, drawing my attention to the silver earrings that he’s wearing, jostled with the movement. I don’t know why I hadn’t noticed them yet, but I feel like they suit him somehow. “My... brothers cook.”

“Oh nice! Do you live with them?” I ask, because it seems like a logical next question, but then I wonder if that’s too much.

He nods, though. “Yes. We do.”

“So you share chores? They cook, and you clean up?”

“I am not... allowed? In the kitchen,” he says, then looks to me, checking the words he’s used.

“Not allowed? Uh oh. Did you set something on fire?” I tease, but the pink is back in his cheeks, and I feel bad, even though the embarrassment looks adorable on him. ”Don’t worry if you have. I made my entire dorm evacuate in the middle of the night when I was in college because I tried to microwave ramen but was too tired to get the time right and set it for 30 minutes instead of three.”

Pausing to let him catch up, I make a ‘whoops’ kind of expression. “I fell asleep and the noodles or the package or something went up in flames and set off the fire alarm and the sprinklers, and then everyone was outside in their pajamas.”

Nikko laughs out loud, but quickly covers his mouth like he’s made a mistake. “I am sorry.”

“Oh no, you should totally laugh at me. It was ridiculous. Everyone was mad at me for days because it was so cold out and there was still snow on the ground.” I smile at the memory, but also because Nikko looks more at ease.

There comes a point with every student where I can tell whether we’re going to get along and work successfully together. Sometimes it happens pretty quickly, sometimes it takes a while, and sometimes it never happens at all. But I don’t think it’s ever clicked in the first session before. It makes me look forward to what we’ll be able to accomplish together.

“Okay, so no cooking for you. What are your chores?” I wave an imaginary feather duster around. “Dusting?”

Nikko drops his chin, trying to stifle what sounds like a giggle in the collar of his shirt. When he raises up, he shakes his head ‘no.’ “I am the one who does...” He stops and scowls in frustration. “I put things away.”

“Oh, you’re the organized one? So you make sure everyone’s stuff is where it belongs. Very important.” It makes me want to look over my shoulder and see if there’s anything out of place behind me.

“No. Not all times. When I get... not upset?”

”Anxious, maybe? Nervous?“ I suggest. I know those feelings. I wish I did something as productive as straightening up when the anxiety kicked in, but I mainly just drag Noel on longer walks than she wants to take and end up carrying her back home.

“Yes. I get like that,” he admits. “My brothers have me in their rooms, too.”

“Oh, wow. That’s a good system. They feed you, and you clean their rooms. I could go for a trade like that,” I say, chuckling. Seriously, how do I arrange something like this?

“Clothes. Um, closet?” Nikko clarifies.

“Just their closets? So the rest of the space is a mess?”

He gives me a half-smile. “They can do that.”

“They can take care of that, huh? Yeah, that sounds fair.” I’m grinning again. I feel like I’m starting to get little glimpses of his personality and I’m relieved that he’s not terrible like I thought he might be.

I’m not sure how or why this has worked out the way it has, but I’m happy about it. I can’t deny the money is a perk, but it’s also nice to have an older student again who I can talk and joke with more than the young ones I work with. I think I’ll have a good time with his sessions, and that makes the idea of getting up super early seem less awful.

Glancing at the clock, I realize there’s not really enough time for a whole new topic, but I want to know more, so I ask him something anyway. “What do you like to do for fun when you’re not rearranging everyone’s closets?”

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