My stomach somersaults.
Jason stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “But I think we should just be friends.”
“Friends?”
Bewilderment swirls inside my head. When did I ever say that we should be anything more than that?
“Yes,” he says. “I can’t date right now.”
“And you think I would ever date you?”
“I—” His cuts himself off. “What?”
I shrug, hoping for nonchalance when I actually feel like my insides are being squeezed. “Kind of egotistical on your part to think that just because you would want to date me, I’d be fine with it.”
“But I—”
“Don’t worry about the kiss,” I interrupt. “It’s already forgotten. And, you know, I don’t really need any distractions, either. I need to focus on my studies right now. Besides, you’re not really my type.”
I consider throwing in a few other stereotypical rejection lines like, It’s not you, it’s me, but I couldn’t say them in sincerity because it is him. And his gigantic ego.
“Merry Christmas, Jason.”
I leave him standing there, just like girls do in movies. And for the first time, I feel like I could be one of them. My chest may be aching, but I comfort myself with the fact that I’m not letting him get under my skin again.
My feelings for him were nothing more than a silly crush. And now it’s all over.
Chapter Eighteen
“But it’s New Year’s Eve!” Sophie pulls on my arm, trying to force me out of my chair.
I grab on to my desk to keep myself from getting yanked to my feet. “Actually, New Year’s was weeks ago. This is the end of January and, you know, I think I’m still recovering from the travel back to school.”
She rolls her eyes. “We left Seoul almost three weeks ago, and it’s not like we traveled that far. And it’s Seollal, the biggest holiday in Korea, and we were invited to the hottest party in Seoul!”
“I thought Korean New Year’s was supposed to be a family thing.”
She scrunches her nose. “Umm … it is. But my mom said it was okay for me to go to the party with Jason instead, so we’re good.” She gives me a serious look. “You can’t ditch me.”
“I have homework.”
“Don’t even start that. If I’m not worried about homework, you’re not allowed to be.”
She has a point. I do have homework, but the truth is I don’t want to see Jason. I get twitchy when I think about another entire semester of sitting beside him in class every day.
Sophie digs through the pile of clothes I just washed that’s resting on top of my bed and throws a black dress at my face. “You’re wearing this. Let’s go.”
I groan, knowing I can’t win. But I take my time getting ready, passive-aggressively hoping we’ll be late. When I’ve finished curling my hair and touching up my makeup, Sophie’s standing by the door with both our purses in hand.
We rush downstairs and meet up with all three boys of Eden. I try not to notice Jason wearing the black leather jacket I bought him for Christmas when it was on sale and I wasn’t pissed at him, and instead wrap my arms around my middle and stare down at my fuchsia heels, shivering in the six inches of snow that fell last night.
We jump into the limo and begin the long trek to Seoul. The boys are booked for a big bash downtown that their agency wants them to be seen at; it’s the kind with lots of star power and schmoozing. When Sophie heard her biggest celebrity crush was going to be in attendance, she weaseled her way into the party—dragging me along with her.
We reach downtown around seven thirty. Traffic’s light, since most people are at home with their families, but when we reach the club, there are so many people standing outside I can’t even see the front door.
The limo pulls up to the curb, and I crawl out behind Sophie, only to be met by a hurricane of flashing lights. A roar of screams fills my ears as Sophie links her arm through mine and we follow the boys down a short carpeted path to the front door, lined on either side by fans clamoring to get around the ropes separating them from their favorite stars. It’s not a red carpet—it’s white—but I feel like a celebrity all the same.
A bouncer hurries us down the line, and we slip inside the dark club. The cigarette smoke and heat in the air press against my face, which still smarts from the cold outside, and when someone offers to take my coat, I peel it off as fast as I can.
The club’s decorated like a swanky lounge, with plush black chairs and sofas crowded with guys in flashy shirts and girls wearing lots of eyeliner. Arrangements of tall white candles litter the corners, and the bar sits inside a sunken seating area in the middle of the room.
An R&B song plays, giving the entire club a cool, relaxed vibe, but the crowds of well-dressed, beautiful Koreans send my anxiety levels rocketing through the ceiling. I scan the dimly lit room and find zero other Westerners. Or normal-looking people. It’s like the club only lets in gorgeous people—and me. I take a reflexive step closer to Sophie.
Eden’s manager pounces on us as soon as we’re inside, and he shuffles the boys away from the entrance. Tae Hwa grabs Sophie’s hand, and a surge of relief floods me as we follow them through the club.
Yoon Jae falls into step with me.
“Excited?” he asks.
I scratch the back of my neck, offering him a self-conscious laugh. “I don’t really know what to be excited about.”
He grins. “Maybe we can dance again, like we did on Jason and Sophie’s birthday.”
Embarrassment heats my cheeks, but Yoon Jae isn’t the one filling my memories from that night. “You’re a way better dancer than me. I’d just embarrass myself.”
He bumps his shoulder against mine. “You’re a good dancer.”
“Not as good as you.”
He laughs. “Maybe. But I’ve had more practice. My mom got me into lessons when I was seven.”