Chapter One
"Are you sure this is a good idea?"
"Of course it is! I'm always right, aren't I?"
"They're going to be mad when they find out."
"Shut up—no they won't. They'll be happy, you'll see!"
"You're so full of it, you know that?"
"Yeah, but that's why you love me."
********** I wake up reluctantly. The room is spinning, and I've never seen a more evil light coming from outside. It's staring me in the face, taunting me because I'm hung over. I don't think I've ever been this hung over. How much did I have to drink last night? My mind tries to go over the liquor: one glass red wine, two glasses champagne, four, no, five shots tequila...oh boy.
I pull my head off YiJung and looked around the room. The light is still there, the room is still spinning, but I can see a bottle of aspirin on the desk. It's ten feet. I think I can make it. Prying my hands out of his, I sit up. Only to fall back down on him, making him groan. It's apparently too early to get out of bed. Wait. Groan? Him? SHIT. YiJung is curled up in bed, and slightly drooling. Trying not to panic, I look around the room and realize it's not actually mine. I'm in his bed, hung over. It's only now that I bother to look at myself. I'm in my underwear, and so is he. Wow. I've finally done it, and slept with YiJung. If I didn't feel like I was about to throw up all over him, I might have actually been impressed. I've worked so hard to not sleep with the Casanova, and then I just give it all up on a weekend in Vegas. Classy, GaEul. Super classy. I can't say that I've never thought of sleeping with YiJung. I mean, look at him. He's gorgeous, and one of the most interesting people I've ever met. But, I was proud to say that I was the only girl who hadn't slept with him. Don't think I'm a prude—I just don't want to waste my time on someone who can't
commit, okay? And the worst part is that I don't remember any of it. I remember eating at the restaurant; everyone was happy. JanDi showed me wedding pictures for the millionth time, as if I wasn't there. YiJung looked over and I tried to talk telepathically to him. He eventually got the message and saved me from wedding terror. I mean, I love JanDi—she's my best friend—but a single girl gets tired of smug married couples, okay? I guess I always thought I'd be married by 25, or at the very least, in a relationship. Instead, I'm working in a shitty job that I just happen to love with no boyfriend, and no boyfriend prospects. I don't even have a pet. When I get home from school, it's just me, and dramas on TV. Thank God for those. Which brings me back to the present. What am I going to do now that I'm practically naked and in YiJung's bed? I look around for my clothes, and see them folded up neatly in a chair. Wait, what? I guess we didn't have crazy-drop-clothes-all-over-the-room-sex. But I can't imagine myself folding them before we did it. Was it that bad? He's always bragged about his supposed skills, but I don't remember a thing. Ah, whatever. I slowly get out of bed, and stumble over to the chair for my clothes. YiJung and I are going to have to talk about this sooner or later, and if we're both still naked there's an 80% chance of a repeat of last night. Hey. I'm strong, but when there's a big plate of chocolate cake with a fork in it on the table, mamma's going to eat some. Somehow, I manage to get my clothes back on, take some pills, and was ready to try to make it back to my room when I realize I don't have my key. Getting on all fours, I try looking for it on the ground. No luck. And can I just say that when you feel as terrible as I do, the floor is about the best place to be? I must have been there for ten minutes. Eventually I figure out that my key is not actually in YiJung's room, so I crawl over to the desk where the phone is, and call to the front desk. "Good morning Las Vegas!" Great. I've got Suzy Sunshine on the other end. I really can't handle this right now. "Hello?" My voice is tired and scratchy—I sound like I've been hit by a truck. Much like I feel. "What can I help you with?" Let's start with talking quieter, Suzy. "I've lost my room key." "That's too bad! But we can get another one to you in just a couple of minutes. What's the name?" It takes a minute to process the English. I'm too sick to handle another language. "Chu GaEul." "Excuse me Ms. Chu, but can you spell that." Ah, I forgot. Americans. They struggle with the simplest of foreign names.
