Undercover Fan Page 7

  He’s looking so hard my way people are turning to see what he’s looking at. I try not to notice them and focus only on him.

  “Were you waiting for me?” I ask when we’re in talking distance.

  Heavens, that smirk. “Of course. I decided you need a bodyguard here at school.”

  I laugh, batting my lashes. “Do I?”

  He bites his lip and I find myself staring. How can he do this to me right here, so publicly. I don’t think my heart can take it. “At least until things are better between you and Abby?”

  Yeah, I’d rather not remember Friday night, except for the part when Minji carried me to his car. Swoon.

  He tilts his head in the direction of the school and I nod. He’s walking so close his arm keeps brushing mine. I hold tight to my books so I’m not tempted to grab his hand.

  We’re friends. I keep telling myself. He’s leaving. In less than two months. He belongs in Korea, and I’ve been lying about knowing who he really is.

  But man, do I wish it was more.

  He walks me to my class, and this time the whispers that follow me are different. I understand what it must look like. Dylan dumped me a week ago, and now I’m cozy with the new kid. I guess it goes to show how wrong perceptions can be when people don’t know the whole story.

  We get to the door of my first class, American History, and stop. I lean against the wall, still hugging my books to my chest. “So are you going to follow me in?” I ask, not hiding the flirt in my tone.

  “No,” he says putting his hand above me. He’s in my personal bubble, but not overly-close. I wish he was closer, anyway. “I’m going to GED class until lunch.”

  I press my lips together as I nod. “I’ll see you at lunch, then?”

  He stands straight. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

  I watch his backside as he disappears into the crowd, then try not to melt into the wall behind me. He is so freaking perfect, it’s my new life mission to figure out if he has any flaws.

  Abby is already in class when I take my chair. She doesn’t look up or acknowledge me in any way. At least she has the decency to realize when to back down. I still want to make up with her. Whatever’s happened, she wouldn’t act like this if she wasn’t under extreme stress. I have to figure out what happened to push her to the edge like this. I’m just not sure where to begin.

  ***

  Minji’s Taste

  Likes:

  Cotton tees. I swear, he’s always wearing them.

  Jackets.

  Meat.

  Dislikes:

  Green Beans, especially the canned kind.

  When people don’t know how to park.

  How hot it is in Texas.

  I set down my pen and lay my head on the desk. All week I’ve been asking Minji questions, trying to figure out if he has any flaws. The answer is no.

  There’s no cheer practice today so Minji asked if we could hang out. I told him he could have the whole Saturday. I’m still pinching myself daily to make sure this is real.

  Friendship is something I’ve had in the past, but never appreciated. It’s fun to hang out with Minji. Even in our quiet moments I enjoy being around him. It’s more than simple attraction, I crave his company. Whenever he’s around, I find myself drifting his way like he’s the center of gravity.

  I opt for sneakers and jeans today, because I have no idea what we’re doing, and I want to be prepared.

  Mom likes Minji. I’m not sure if it’s an act or what, buy he’s been here a couple times and Mom has never kicked him out or told me she doesn’t approve. I’m glad I shared my secret with her, even though we fought. I think she understands more than I give her credit for.

  “Have a good time!” she calls to us as we leave.

  “You look good,” he says when the door is shut behind us.

  My hair is in a ratty bun and my jeans have holes in them. “You sure about that?”

  “Yes,” he says. “You should be casual more often.”

  I frown. “So you don’t like it when I dress up?”

  “I never said that. I like you both ways.”

  I’m not sure how to take that. I usually think I look like crap if I’m not on my best game, but I guess if he thinks I look good today, too, I’ll accept it.

  Minji’s more comfortable with driving, and he’s told me traffic doesn’t bother him, so I let him be the chauffeur for the day.

  “What should we do?” I ask once I’m in the car and buckled.

  He sifts to reverse, looking over his shoulder as he goes. “I already have a plan.”

  “So...I’m just supposed to trust you,” I say.

  He smiles. “Yep.”

  He’s not even sorry. Somehow I’m still okay with it.

  “Come on,” I pout. “Don’t I get a hint?”

  He thinks on it. “Um...Yes.”

  I wait for him to say more but he doesn’t. “And the hint is...?”

  He chuckles to himself. “It’s something I don’t like doing.”

  What? That makes no sense. “Why would we do something you don’t like?”

  He sighs. “You’ve been asking me all week if I’m afraid of anything, so I thought I’d give you an answer today.”

  Seriously? Now I’m a little worried. “Am I going to be scared, too?”

  “Maybe,” he says, “But I hope not, because I need one of us to be strong, and it’s not going to be me.”

  I don’t mean to laugh at his pain, but seeing him shake in his boots at the prospect of doing this thing is pretty cute.

  “It’s not dangerous is it?”

  His eyes go wide. “I really hope not.”

  I’m expecting us to go somewhere mind-bending downtown, but we drive right through the heart of Houston without taking a single exit.

  “How far south are we going?” I ask when we get to Pasadena.

  “Will you relax?” he says. “You told me you had all day, so we’re taking advantage of it.”

  Honestly, I’ve never been this far south before. I mean, I live in the Houston area, but the area is huge. Most everything I want to do is close to home, so there’s no need for me to travel this far. We’ve already been in the car for an hour, and Minji doesn’t look like he’s going to stop anytime soon.

  I decide to take his advice and find a different way to pass the time. “Should we play a game?” I offer.

  “Oh no,” he says, “Not Twenty Questions again.”

  I start to laugh. “What’s wrong with Twenty Questions?”

  “You’re going to ask me a bunch of questions about where we’re going, and I’m going to give in and divulge everything. I’m not doing that.”

  I stick my bottom lip out. “Fine.”

  “But I do know something we can do,” he says, a half smile on his face.

  I don’t like his tone of voice, it’s too mischievous. “What’s that?”

  “We can play Truth.”

  “Truth?”

  “Yeah, it’s Truth or Dare, but without the dare part.”

  I put my hands on my knees and try to stretch out my legs. He’s overly eager, and that worries me. If we’re being honest, then I might let my secret slip. Then again, if I say no, he’ll suspect me even more.

  “Okay,” I agree, “But only if I get to ask you a question first.”

  “Shoot,” he says.

  “Have you ever had a girlfriend before?”

  The question comes out almost before he’s done talking. It’s the one thing I know he would never report in Korea, and it’s been eating at me for days. I wasn’t going to ask him out of the blue, but he’s the one who opened that flood gate.

  He cringes. “I should have seen that coming. Yes, but I was only fourteen and we we’re both awkward trainees.” He shutters.

  Crap, he’s just revealed part of his K-pop life. So there was a girl at his company that he dated while working to become a star. I want to ask who it is and if she’s debuted in a girl group, but tha
t would give me away, so I go for the good ‘ole American answer.

  “Trainees?”

  His knuckles turn white as he grips the steering wheel. “Yes,” he says slowly. “When I was younger I was training for a career. Which is why I’m in GED class now.”

  Smooth, but not smooth enough. The next question comes naturally. Bonus: it’s my way out. If he answers this I can pretend to look him up and discover K-pop all on my own.

  “What career?” I ask, feeling pretty proud of myself.

  He shakes his head. “No way. You can’t ask that yet.”

  I turn to him. “Why not?”

  “Because,” he says, “We’re playing a game. The only way you can ask me more than one question is if I don’t answer. Right now it’s my turn to ask you something.”

  Crap, he’s right. If I wasn’t so dang competitive I would tell him to forget the game so we can talk, but he knows how much I like to win fair and square.

  “Alright,” I concede. “Ask away.”

  He smiles, straightening his back like he’s proud of himself. Stinker.

  “How long were you and Dylan dating?”

  Do we have to come back to that? Then again, I suppose it’s only fair since I asked him the girlfriend question. “You want the truth?” I say.

  He nods, watching the road as he waits.

  “Truth is,” I say. “My relationship with Dylan wasn’t real, but only the two of us knew that. We both needed a way to keep people from asking us out all the time, and it was a good solution. I never, ever, thought of Dylan as anything more than a friend. Apparently, it was different for him. But he wasn’t lying when he said I never really liked anyone before. Not until now anyway.”

  I can’t believe I added that last part on, but it was the honest truth. It occurs to me that I’m telling a lot more than he told me, but that’s okay. I wanted to tell him, get it off my chest, that sort of thing.

  “And who do you like now?” he asks.

  My face warms and I look away so he can’t see the blush he brought on. “It’s my turn to ask you a question. You said it was the rules.”

  It’s just an excuse. He knows I’m talking about him. He has to know. This was my way of trying to figure out if he likes me too.

  “Corrine,” he says, turning the mood somber. “Before you ask me anything, I need you to understand something.”

  I really don’t like this tone of voice. He said understand the way my dad does when he’s trying to teach me a life lesson.

  “What’s that?” I ask, still afraid to look at him.

  He sighs, and I wait a few moments for him to say something, but he doesn’t. I turn to him and see his brows pinched, lips pursed, and jaw ridged.

  “You can’t...” he starts, taking in a deep breath. “I can’t...” he falters.

  “Honestly, Corrine,” he says, making my heart twist in my chest. “This is the hardest...” He stops himself again and clicks his jaw shut, nostrils flaring.

  “I’m leaving in a month and half,” he says outright. “I can’t get involved with anyone right now.”

  If it were possible to hear a heartbeat outside a body, Minji would know just how loud and deep mine is at the moment. It feels like it’s throbbing so hard it’s going to quit any second.

  “I know that,” I say, and I do. Did. Doesn’t make it hurt any less. I was really hoping since we’ve been spending so much time together that he’d changed his mind, but I guess he hasn’t.

  “If I had any other choice—” he starts.

  “Save it,” I say. I don’t want him to be like this to me. We were having such a good time until I stepped in and ruined it.

  “Please don’t be mad,” he says, reaching over and patting my head. “I really enjoy hanging out with you.”

  His hand brushes down my hair, again and again, petting me like I’m a dog.

  “Please?” he asks.

  There’s nothing he needs to beg about. It was my own self-perceptions that got us here, but I still don’t feel like perking up, yet.

  “How about a deal?” he says. “We stay friends for today and put this whole thing behind us, and before I leave, I’ll take you to the Winter Ball.”

  Now that can make me change my attitude. “Seriously?” I say, sitting forward in my chair.

  A whole night of dancing with the best dancer I know? Yes please.

  “Seriously,” he answers, “Besides, I’m dying to see you all dressed up.”

  How can I say no to that? “You have a deal!”

  My smile can’t be contained, and I look out the window so he can’t see how goofy I am. Once I’m not so focused on him, I notice we’re about to go over a huge bridge.

  “Are we going to Galveston?” I ask.

  “Yep,” he answers, “And we’re almost there.”

  Maybe Fear Isn’t Such a Bad Thing

  My whole life in Houston and I’ve never crossed the Gulf of Mexico to get to Galveston Island. I never been to the beaches here, either. My friends tell me they’re crappy, so I haven’t had the desire, but this is actually kind of cool.

  The bridge is massive and painted bright blue. I can see refineries to my left and open water to my right. People are out sailing, homes on stilts stretching over the shore.

  As we come down from the bridge I see something totally out of place in a beach town. A pyramid.

  “What is that?” I ask, pointing. I don’t expect Minji to know the answer, but he does.

  “That,” he says, “Is where we’re going. Moody Gardens.”

  Okay, now I’m even more excited. Seeing as how the secret is out, Minji turns the GPS on his phone and it takes us through stop and go traffic all the way to the shore.

  I’ve been to a few beaches in my life. California and Florida mostly, and they’ve been great. This beach doesn’t look too dissimilar from those places. Sure, the water isn’t sparkling blue, but it’s not terrible either.

  There aren’t many people out and about, which makes me think we Houstonion’s don’t take advantage of this beach enough. Now I wish I brought my swimsuit. I wonder why Minji didn’t tell me to pack one.

  We pull up to Moody Gardens and park across from a huge yellow and green structure with ropes all through it.

  Minji leans over me to point at it. “That,” he says, “Is what I’m afraid of.”

  At first I think he’s just pointing at the weird building thing, until I notice someone flying on a zip-line over the waterpark. Holy crap that looks fun.

  “Are you serious?’ I ask, feeling giddy. “We’re going to do that?”

  He pales, sitting back in his own chair. “I guess it doesn’t look too high up.”

  No way, Minji Park afraid of heights? But he’s constantly on raised stages, and he’s even done wires before. I had no idea.

  Being high up gets my stomach feeling wonky, but I’m not afraid of it. Especially if I’m in a harness like the ones they’re going to put us in.

  This is more than just a zip-line. It’s a ropes course first, but you have to zip-line across the waterpark in order to get down.

  “Would you mind going ahead of me?” Minji asks as they strap us in. “That way if I’m scared I can hold onto you.”

  I giggle at the thought. “For sure.”

  The beginning of the course isn’t so bad. I even run over a few of the wooden obstacles that lead us to the top, but then Minji begs me to slow and stay close.

  When we get higher up, it’s more tedious. Minji reaches out to cling to the back of my shirt now and then, and I keep hearing him tell himself not to look down.

  “At the zip-line,” I say to him over my shoulder. “Close your eyes until you start moving, then you can look down all you want because there will be nothing to stop you.”

  He grips my shirt harder, pinching the skin on my back. The last obstacle before the zip-line is open tight ropes with thicker green ropes to hold onto as we go across.

  We’re standing at the platform, and
I can see everything from here, all of the buildings at Moody Gardens, the pyramid, and the Gulf of Mexico in the other direction with colorful houses and loads of palm trees. It’s absolutely breathtaking.

  “I think I’m ready now,” Minji says, his voice coming out a pitch higher than normal.

  “You sure?” I double check. I can take in the view forever, and I want Minji to be comfortable.

  “Yes,” he says, closing his eyes and breathing.

  I step out first, clinging to the rope above and doing my best to balance. I can feel when Minji gets on the rope behind me because it sways a bit in the breeze.

  “Corrine!” he calls.

  “Yes?” I answer looking back.

  He’s staring at the ground, his face drained of color. I back up, slow as I can so I don’t disturb the rope, and touch his arm. “Are you okay?”

  His head shakes, but he still won’t look at me. I carefully half-turn, then lightly touch the edge of his jaw so he’s forced to look at me.

  “Focus,” I say searching his eyes. “Right here, on me.”

  He swallows, then nods. Those black eyes searching me face, depending on me for comfort and support. I want to give it to him, all I’ve done yet is take.

  “I’m going to go forward now,” I explain to him. “Nice and slow.”

  He nods again, his eyes huge.

  “Okay,” I instruct. “I’m going to step.”

  I put one foot in front of the other and the rope shakes, but only slightly. Minji wraps his arms around my waist and clings to me, giving me a full back hug.

  “Can we go like this?” he asks, rubbing his cheek into my hair.

  Of course we can. He has no idea how much I’m enjoying this, and by what I can feel, he doesn’t hate it either.

  “Hang on tight,” I say, “We’ll be there before you know it.”

  It’s not as easy to balance on this thing as it would be if Minji wasn’t holding on, but we manage thanks to the upper arm strength I’ve gained from cheer and gymnastics.

  “Almost to the platform,” I call.

  There’s an attendant waiting on the other side. She’ll unhook us from the course and hook us up to the zip-line. I try to step up, but the weight of both Minji and I makes that impossible.