Some girls do

Chapter 27: Chaewon

I forgot that I left my car at Jimin's until I stepped outside Kazuha's apartment.

And with Kazuha's sore ankle—it doesn't matter that she's trying to hide it; I noticed right away when she got out of the shower—no way am I letting her walk all the way to Karina's with me. Instead, I convince her to let me borrow her bike and set her up on the couch with frozen peas—despite her protestations—and pedal my heart out.

Jimin isn't home when I get there, but a quick text tells me that she left my keys under the front seat of my car. I text her back a quick thank you, along with a kissy face, before shoving my phone into my pocket and going for the keys.

There's something else under there too, and when I slide it out, I see it's the picture Jimin took of me, lust-struck on the bleachers. She must have printed it out after I left. There's a hot pink sticky note on it that says, We need to talk. Love you. And I know. I know. I run my hand over my face and head behind the car, safely depositing the picture in the trunk. I don't want Kazuha to know it exists, to know how far gone I was on her from the start. It's safer this way, I think as I shut the trunk.

I recline the passenger seat and hit the quick release on the front tire of Kazuha's bike before sliding it inside. I have to take a couple really deep breaths when a little mud gets on my nice leather seats, but Kazuha is worth it.

When I get to her apartment, though, I ask her if she's cool with hanging for a little bit so I can get it cleaned up, using a little of the car interior cleaner I keep stashed under the passenger seat—okay, a lot of the car interior cleaner. She laughs and says yes before disappearing back inside.

When everything is said and done and I finally go in, marginally sweaty but feeling a thousand times better, Kazuha is carrying plates to the table, pizza and salad already sitting on it.

"You didn't have to do all this," I say, torn between marveling and panicking at the utter domesticity of it all.

"No trouble." She grabs some napkins off the counter and slides into one of the seats at the table. "I just reheated some old pizza and opened a bag of lettuce."

"I know, but—"

"Eat," Kazuha says. "This is more of a precaution than a good deed."

I raise my eyebrows.

"I get very, very, very hangry when I don't eat. And I skipped breakfast."

I laugh. "I'm sure I can handle you a little hangry."

"Oh, it's not a little. It's like DEFCON one—run for cover, scorched earth, the whole nine. You will cower in the face of a hungry Kazuha."

"Good to know," I say, passing her the salad. "Eat up, then. I didn't leave any time in the schedule for cowering."

* * *

"So where exactly are we going?" Kazuha asks within minutes of us being on the road.

"You'll see," I say, desperately trying to ignore the constant thrum of What if this is a terrible idea? spiraling through my head.

"I can't wait." She sets her hand over mine as I shift gears, giving it a little squeeze, and for a second my fear flies out the window, disappearing into the warm spring air.

I'm alone in this car with the person I like. And she likes me back. And right now, that's enough. I flex my hand, catching her fingers between mine, and her lips curve up in a smile.

Roughly ten minutes later, we're pulling up in front of Hyojong's garage, the comforting scent of grease and gasoline wafting in through my open windows. I glance at Kazuha, who stares inquisitively at the building.