Page 60 of Teach Me K-Pop

“I think... I think I’m scared,” I admit, finally. “No, I know I am. I’m kind of terrified, really. So I let our visit end badly because I didn’t know what to do.” I let my gaze drift somewhere over his shoulder, away from his dark, intense eyes. “Is it always like this?”

“That’s a good question. And one I couldn’t begin to answer. We write songs about this kind of thing all the time, but none of us really know what we’re talking about. We’re just making it up as we go.”

There’s a bit of humor in his voice, like he realizes the absurdity of what he’s saying, the idea of these lyrics about emotions most of us have never really had the chance to experience seriously.

“I can’t sleep now,” I confess. “I just lie there and I think about him. I wish he was there with me. Or I was somewhere with him. And then, other times, I think that I wish I didn’t know what it was like. To have another person be so close. To be able to remember what their breathing sounds like or how it felt when they touched you.”

I know I’m blushing now, having spoken too freely, too intimately. But Lalo is just looking at me like he always does, always has, unfazed by these details. When he says nothing, I keep talking for some reason, relieved at being able to let the thoughts out and try to make some room for something in my head—in my heart—beyond all of the space that Jase currently occupies. “I can’t help but wonder what he is thinking right now. Even as I am saying all these things. Am I on his mind the way he is on mine? Has he been feeling lost, too? Is he replaying everything the way I am? Does he want to do it all again?”

Lalo bites his lip like he is trying not to grin. “You could just ask him.”

Scowling, I scoff at the suggestion. “The idea of calling or texting him to ask that makes me want to jump out the window.” I lean over to fling the curtain open, just to illustrate my point. For some reason, I’m kind of disappointed to see that not only does the window not open, but there is another roof level just below which really takes away from the impact of my statement.

“And I thought Lux and Ryo were the dramatic ones,” he comments, rolling his eyes.

He’s definitely not wrong about them, but I certainly feel like I have had more than my fair share of moments lately, too. Ready to change the subject, I nod toward his pen and paper. “What are you working on?”

Grabbing the notebook, he flips to a new page and makes a few quick marks like he wants to remind himself of something. “Just chasing a couple of ideas about watching someone fall in love.”

“Isn’t that an odd perspective?” I ask him. Most songs are written to immerse the listener in an experience and I’m not sure why that is one anyone would want.

“You know I like to try new things.” He gives me a look that suggests I’m definitely missing something. “And I’ve never had a front row seat quite like this before.”

“What…” I don’t even finish the question, as I suddenly realize that he’s talking about me. I feel a little like the wind has been knocked out of me.

Does he think I am in love?

Is that what this looks like to him?

I blink at Lalo, panic starting to rise.

I cannot… this is not…

I would not already be…

…Oh.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

JASE

“Jase? Hey Jase. Are you okay, man?”

I look up to see Tyler standing in front of my desk, looking more than slightly concerned. “Oh. Uh. Hi. Yeah. I’m okay.”

“You lie like a dirty rug,” Tyler retorts.

He’s right. I’m absolutely lying. If even he, with the emotional intelligence of a teaspoon, can pick up on that, I must look as bad as I feel. I shrug. “I guess I’m still kind of sick.”

“Damn. Some of that shit really sticks around,” he says, nodding sagely like he’s wearing a white lab coat instead of gym shorts and a tee shirt with the high school’s dragon mascot on it. “You have to shake it off. Do some shots of wheatgrass or vitamin whatever it is.”

“Yeah,” I mumble, not even entirely sure what I just agreed to.

Tyler reaches over to give me a very coach-y pat on the shoulder. “It’s the end of the year, my guy. We’re gonna be out of here in three days. You need to get back on your A-game so you can enjoy your freedom!”

I give him an incredibly half-hearted thumbs up.

“You’re killing my pre-victory vibe,” he informs me. “I’ll catch you next week for the final countdown.”

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