“I’m serious,” he says.
And I pause, because his tone is dangerously close to honest. He glances down at his fingers curled around my arm, then meets my gaze. A silent plea flashes in his eyes, and I falter. But before either of us can speak, the bell shrills overhead, and classroom doors slam shut as the last students leave them.
Jason’s hand releases its grip, and I take a step back. I consider throwing him another warning, but the words die in my throat. I think back to sitting in the limo, his head resting against my shoulder and the pain that hid in his eyes. And all the fight inside me dissipates.
I escape to the dining hall, my thoughts spinning. Even when I hop in the lunch line and search the cafeteria for Yoon Jae, I’m still thinking about Jason.
And what could have created the grief I see inside him.
*
At dinner, Sophie’s quiet. She absently pushes the rice around in her bowl, and I realize this is the longest I’ve seen her go without talking. When she drizzles fish sauce onto her apple, I can’t stay silent any longer.
“Sophie, is something wrong?”
She looks up. “Huh?”
I point to her fruit, and she blinks the glazed look out of her eyes. She laughs, laying her chopsticks across the top of her bowl.
“Guess I’m done,” she says.
“Are you still thinking about what happened on Saturday?” I venture. Maybe I’ll finally get to the bottom of whatever’s going on.
She shifts uncomfortably on the bench. “No.”
I wait for her to continue.
“I talked to Jason earlier. He told me about the conversation you two had. After Korean class. I let it go the first time, when you guys argued after the concert. So I guess it just sorta bothered me that you did it again.” She picks at her napkin, ripping off pieces. “I don’t want you to get the wrong impression of him. He’s not a bad guy. Really.”
I fight the urge to snort. Could have fooled me.
“He just … has some problems, you know? He’s been really stressed since Eden debuted, and their label puts a lot of pressure on them. I mean, he’s always been a perfectionist, but he’s gotten more so since the album released.” She chews on her bottom lip. “He’s my brother, so sometimes I get upset with him. But I don’t want you to think that he’s … you know … a bad person.”
A blush blooms in my cheeks from what feels dangerously like shame.
Sophie straightens her spine and levels an even gaze at me, her eyes hardening behind her giant glasses. “I would really appreciate it if you would try to be nicer to him. And umm … Jason and I can take care of our own issues.”
My embarrassment soars, now twisting in my stomach and threatening to bring my supper back up. I push my bowl farther away from me, the smell close to triggering my gag reflex.
I’m ready to hold up a white flag, but she keeps going: “Yoon Jae told me about your dad, about you growing up with someone famous for a parent. I’m sure you had to deal with a lot of people being nice to you just because of him, and I know that gets old.” She hesitates, her speech slowing like she’s walking on dangerous ground. “Maybe you’re not used to people being rude sometimes, but that’s life, you know? Nobody’s perfect. And I think it’s sort of refreshing not to have people placating you all the time.”
My eyes widen. She thinks I’m spoiled, that I’ve never had anybody stand up to me before. Although half of me wonders if she may be right, it doesn’t lessen the sting.
“And honestly, you’re going through culture shock right now. I recognize the signs. You’ve been sorta harsh about … everything. I know it’s hard to adjust to Korea right now, but just realize that you’re in transition.” She winces, leaning back from the table, almost cowering. “You’re not mad at me, are you?” she whispers.
I struggle to unravel my conflicting thoughts, vigorously shaking my head. “No! Definitely not.”
I force a smile, and she sighs in relief, her entire body relaxing.
“Okay, good.” She grins. “I was afraid you wouldn’t want to be my friend anymore.”
“Sophie, you’re my only friend. I’m pretty sure I would be screwed without you.”
“Right.” She giggles. “I guess that gives me the power, huh?”
I guess it does. And after growing up as the one everyone wanted to hang out with, as the girl with the cool family who called the shots, I’m not sure how I feel about the role reversal.
Chapter Nine
Sophie doesn’t bring up the come-to-Jesus moment again, and neither do I, even though it’s all I can think about when I see Jason in class on Tuesday. He ignores me like always, but that night, I get a text from a number I don’t recognize that reads: This is Jason. Meet me in the library tomorrow night at 6 o’clock to study for the Korean test.
Three thoughts rush through my head simultaneously—one, that he somehow dug up my number; two, that he must not be mad at me anymore; and three, that he is one of those annoying people who text with correct grammar and punctuation.
Wednesday evening, I scarf down an early dinner, then make the long trek across campus to the library. As I enter the gigantic, glass-faced building, I pull out my phone and send him a message: Where are you?
My phone buzzes a minute later. Third floor. Walk all the way to the back left.
I climb the stairs, cursing him with each step my already weary legs have to trudge up, then follow his directions. Although I find a number of empty tables around the book-filled stacks, he occupies one in the back corner that feels completely isolated from the rest of the library.