CATALYST

DAVID

         While I'd been at the gym punishing myself with an especially grueling workout this morning, Sowon had called and left a voicemail begging me for another favor—could I please help Travis locate his friend today and drive him where he needed to go?

      On the way home, I'd called her back and given her a ton of shit about it, although secretly I didn't mind. I genuinely liked Travis and wanted to make sure he was okay, plus my head felt much clearer this morning.

      It was the dark that had gotten to me last night.

      The late hour.

      The wine.

      The loneliness.

      And Travis was very charismatic. It was exactly the right combination of factors to mess with me, make me think I wanted something I didn't. Today would be different. I could never confess my sin out loud, but I could at least atone for it by doing him kindness. And if I felt any inkling of what I'd felt last night, I wouldn't let it overwhelm me—I'd fight back.

      Then I saw him in my clothes, and the first thing I thought was, Take them off. Not because I don't want you to have them, but because I want to put them on right now, feel them on my body like I want to feel you there.

      Not exactly fighting words.

      But I rallied, keeping my thoughts clean even as he moved around my kitchen like he lived there. It felt so good I had to talk myself down. It's not him. It's because you're lonely. You want someone to share your life with. You want this kind of closeness with someone. You like taking care of people, and he seems to need it. Don't confuse that for anything else.

       During breakfast, I'd been okay as long as we didn't make eye contact. Because every time we did, I felt like I unwittingly gave away a little piece of my secret. It was unnerving, the effect he had on me. I'd never experienced anything like it.

      Sunglasses. That would help.

      I reached for a pair on the back hall shelf and slipped them on. "Ready to go?"

      "Yes," he said, showing me the screen of his phone. "Here's the address."

      I cringed a little at the thought of an apartment in Guryong area, but to Travis Gangnam probably sounded like the most glamorous address in Seoul. I didn't want to hurt his feelings. "Got it."

     "On the way there, I asked him what his plan was.

      "My plan for what?"

      I glanced his way. He looked completely unconcerned, even though he had nothing but a phone, a bag of dirty clothes, and a notebook to his name. "For living here. You must have made a plan before you came, right? What you'll do, how you'll live."

      "Oh." He was quiet for a moment. "In Japan, we say, 'Kami o warawasetainara, anata no keikaku ni tsuite kami ni hanashite kudasai.' It means 'If you want to make God laugh, tell Him about your plans.'"

      I rolled my eyes. "God's not asking you. I am. And I'm pretty sure God's a planner, anyway."

      "Well, I have the apartment. I paid my first month already."

      "And it's nice enough?"

      "I don't know. I've never seen it."

      "I frowned. "What do you mean you've never seen it? You said you paid rent already."

      "I had to, in order to make sure I would get it. Jake—that's the guy who was supposed to pick me up—says there aren't a lot of places for what I can pay in rent when I'm starting out."