thirty-eight

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That afternoon, when I got home, I went straight over to my aunt’s house and smashed Lizin a hug.

“Stop,” she said. “I’m still mad at you.”

“You aren’t. I know you aren’t. You talked to Yeonjun for me.”

She smiled. “Fine, I’m not. Just don’t ever talk about me on the podcast again.”

“Never.”

“Thanks for editing it out.”

“Did Jake find out, anyway?”

“Yes, but we laughed about it and I told him about how I liked Saerim so it worked out fine.”

“Wait. You like Saerim?”

“Yes. But no, we’re not talking about me right now. What happened with Yeonjun? Did you guys finally spill your guts to each other?”

“We did.”

“Good. I like Yeonjun.”

“Me too.”

I left Liz’s house feeling lighter, and I called Arin as I walked down to the marina. A guy answered her phone. “Hello.”

“Um, did I call the wrong number?”

A loud mechanical noise sounded in the background.

“Nope. Arin is just in the middle of making smoothies.”

“Soobin?”

“Yep.”

That was fast. “Tell her to call me when she’s done.”

“Is that Beomgyu?” I heard Arin ask in the background. “Ask him if he finally caught his fish.”

“Tell her yes,” I said.

“Nice,” Soobin said. “Speaking of catching fish—me, Arin, you, and Yeonjun, my boat, this Saturday.”

“Okay.” I sat down on the dock and dipped my feet in the water. The sun was low in the sky and sent a shimmery reflection off the lake and backlit a sailboat in the distance.

“Yeah?” Soobin asked.

“Yes.”

“Awesome.”

“As long as you aren’t a punk on the lake.”

“I will try my hardest.”

—————

Friday, at lunch, Yeonjun and I sat on a bench in the commons waiting for Arin. She’d told us she had a surprise.

Yeonjun held my hand, like he had every time he’d seen me for the last two days. It still made me incredibly happy.

“You don’t post a lot of updates online,” Yeonjun was saying. “Why not?”

I shrugged and tried to unwrap a burrito one-handed. Yeonjun laughed but when I tried to take my hand back he wouldn’t let me.

“You’re a brat,” I said.

“Yes, I am.” He brushed a kiss to my knuckles.

“I don’t know,” I said, answering his social media question. “I’m private. You don’t post a lot, either.”

“I know.” He set down his bag of chips and took his phone out of his pocket. “But I think we might need a picture of the two of us together. Since you have so many of you and Taehyun.”

I tilted my head his way. “Those pictures are like six months old. Have you been stalking my social media?”

“Yes,” he said unapologetically. “How else was I supposed to see you when you were constantly ditching me?”

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