His focus is on me, and I close my eyes to avoid his laser-gaze. It’s probably better that he knows exactly what kind of person I am now so we can end this charade. If he wants to call his uncle to pick him up now, he can.
“Yes,” I say again. “I did.”
He touches my upper arm, only brushing it. “Hey,” he says. “We all do things we regret.”
Does he? He seems perfect in every way.
“I can’t answer yes or no to that,” I respond, not ready to end our game. At least under those rules I don’t have to spill all.
“Okay,” he says, a laugh in his voice. “Fair enough. Then did you do something you regret?”
That’s the spirit. “Yes.”
He’s gone back to thinking, and I take a moment to look him over. I still can’t believe he’s next to me, talking to me like this.
“Because you regret your actions,” he starts, like he’s still thinking it through. “You want to take back the thing you did.”
“Yes,” I say, even though it hurts to say it.
“And,” he continues, “You don’t know how to do it.”
“Yes.”
“Soooo,” he says, the word slow like he’s still trying to understand everything. “You want me to help you fix things.”
“No,” I answer, thinking how ridiculous that would be. It’s my own problem.
“You want to fix it yourself?”
“Yes.” Duh.
“But you don’t know where to start?”
Exactly. I can’t seem to stop myself from being a jerk. “Yes.”
“And you wouldn’t accept my help even if I offered?”
“Yes,” I say again, even though this time I’m not really sure.
He snaps his fingers. “I’ve got the answer. Because you don’t know what to do and you don’t want to ask for my help, you’re completely stuck. So I’m going to help without you asking.”
I hold back my eyeroll, unsure how he came to that conclusion. “Minji—”
“I knew it,” he says clapping his hands. “I was right, and I even had three questions to spare.”
He is so cute when he’s arrogant. “I really don’t want to make you do anything,” I say.
“No, no, no,” he says, puffing out his chest. “I insist. I’m only going to be here a couple of months, and I’d like to do something good while I’m around.”
My shoulders fall and I lean back in my chair wishing I could curl up and die. I forgot he was on a deadline. I wish I could keep him, but then he wouldn’t be a pop star anymore. I’m not sure which is worse.
Friday Night Lights Never Looked so Dull
For the first time since Monday, the blue on my face is starting to fade. It’s Friday night which means football, and makeup can finally cover the stain. There’re still faded hints on my arms and legs, but nothing crazy. No one would notice from the bleachers anyway.
The school had some extra uniforms, so I borrowed one until the school could order a replacement. There was no getting rid of those stains.
I take one last look in the mirror finally feeling cute again. My brown hair is in a high ponytail with curls hanging down my back and a green ribbon tied up at the top. Today’s eyeliner game is on-point and the green sparkles I applied to the tops of my cheek bones really make the green in my eyes pop.
It’s been almost a week and Minji has never seen me when I’m not a wreck. I have worn makeup to school, but not like this. Each day with him is a gift. We’ve been together every day during lunch and after school planning for tonight.
From now on, things are going to be better. I’m going to be better, and it’s all thanks to him. I grab my Spring Lions duffle and start down the stairs.
I slow when I hear Mom’s voice, is she having guests over tonight? Usually she saves that for the middle of week. She wanted to drive me to the game tonight too, it’s the one thing we normally do together.
“That’s right,” she says. “I think I saw your picture before. You’re one of those pop...what did she call it?”
“Mom!” I scream, leaning over the banister.
Minji is standing in my doorway. He’s wearing another v-neck tee, this time a blue-gray. It’s layered with a leather bomber jacket and jeans. Tight jeans. His hair is all styled up and out of his face like he’s about to go on stage. Basically he looks like a Korean Adonis casually standing in my entryway. It’s beyond unfair.
“What are you two talking about?” I say, rushing down the stairs, hoping my mom didn’t spill my secret.
Things have been tense since our argument over K-pop, but Mom seems to really wants me to be happy, which makes my outburst at her even more deplorable.
Minji puts on that winning smile that threatens to knock me over dead. “I was just meeting your mom.”
He should never meet my mom. As kind as my mom is being, I’m still not sure she’ll understand this.
“Really?” I say, my jaw taut as I reach the bottom of the stairs. “I thought we agreed to meet at the school.”
Mom looks between the two of us. “You know what, you kids can go on ahead. I need to run to the store before the game anyway.”
Something is up, my mom is being incredibly cool about this.
“Are you sure?” I ask, because this must be a trap. How could it be anything else?
“Yes,” she says, giving me a gentle shove. “Go, have fun.”
Minji raises a hand to wave at her as she leaves. “Thanks misses Miller!”
Now he knows that my mom is the Miller and my dad is the Hayden. How does he keep finding this stuff out about me?
He tugs at my arm, but I’m still watching my mom until we’re out the door. I keep quiet as we get in a car. I’m not sure where he got a car from, but I guess there’s a way to do anything if you’re a celebrity.
He opens my door and I sit, too zoned-out to process what’s happening. The shock wears off after Minji’s in his seat and the engine has started.
“What did you say to my mom?” I attack, so worried that he’s figured out my secret. If he knows I’m an undercover fan, I don’t think he’ll ever forgive me.
He laughs. “Relax. I told her I was your friend and asked her permission to take you to the game. She said it would be okay, then...”
I watch him as he trails off, his mouth hanging open. His full lips look amazing even with that expression. One corner quirks up into a smile and he looks at me. Fire starts in my belly and spreads through my veins with that single glance. This is a bad time to remember that we’re completely alone in this car. Parked in my driveway, but alone.
“She said you have a picture of me.”
Oh crap. He can’t know it’s a photo-card from an album. “Oh, that,” I say.
“Yeah,” he answers, copying the very tone I used on him the other day. “That.”
“She must’ve gone through my phone,” I pander. I have to think of something.
If he thinks I took that picture of him without him knowing, it’s better than admitting I’m a K-pop fan. If he knew that, he’d probably run. I bet it’s been refreshing for him to hang out with someone who doesn’t know K-pop. That’s the impression I’ve gotten from him anyway.
“And,” he says, “Why would you have a picture of me on your phone?”
The fire has made its way up to my face. It’s a good thing it’s dark because I’m probably bright red. “Because...I think you’re cute.”
Did that just come out of my mouth? I need to learn to think before I speak. I’m so worried about covering up my lie that I’ve revealed a truth I probably shouldn’t have. I’m head-over-heels for Minji, and there’s no doubt he’s noticed. He hasn’t run yet, though, so there’s that.
His smile is the widest I’ve seen yet. Nothing is said between us as he puts the car in reverse and starts to drive.
He turns on the radio and starts to sing along to Paramore’s Still Into You, and he convinces me to sing too, even though I’m off key. I decide
he won’t care if I can really sing or not since we’re having fun together. We end up car dancing the whole way there, which gets me plenty pumped for cheering tonight.
“You ready for this?” he says as we pull up.
I nod. “I haven’t gotten the chance to thank you. I really want to make things up to Abby, and this is perfect.”
He shrugs. “I’m just glad you let me help. It’s been the experience of a lifetime.”
For real? I cock my head his direction and find him totally blushing. Huh.
“I hope you mean that,” I say, then grab my duffle and flee his car.
“See you out there!” he calls as I run away as fast as I can.
I grab my chest as I approach where the cheerleaders are stretching. My heart feels like it’s about to beat straight out of my chest. That was some serious direct flirting.
It’s only been a week, I remind myself. Maybe he’s attracted to me, but I doubt he likes me.
Then again, my mom told me she knew she was going to marry Dad after two weeks. It’s been twenty years for them. Anything could happen.
I set my duffle by Abby’s and start stretching right next to her. She doesn’t look at me as I do so.
“You ready to ramp things up?” I tell her, keeping up our pre-game tradition.
She blows out a breath and rolls her eyes, ignoring me.
“Look,” I say, knowing she’s listening even if she’s pretending not to. “I’m sorry about that note I wrote on Tuesday, I didn’t mean it.”
She looks at me directly, jaw clenched. “If you wrote it,” she said. “You meant it.”
I expected this. These past three days we’ve been completely avoiding each other. Not that I’ve meant to, I’ve just been spending every spare moment getting this ready for tonight. This is why Minji and I put the plan in place to begin with. I knew she wouldn’t accept my apology.
It might be November, but it hasn’t been cold here at all until tonight. It’s not freezing, but I would like to be wearing more than my cheer outfit. I’ll just have to use all my energy to warm up.
Good thing football is life here in Texas. The school gets a banner for the boys to break through every home game. There’s always a huge hubbub. The bleachers are full to capacity, all decked out in their green, black, and white.
It’s my job to be swept up in the energy of the crowd, and I am. We do a few cheers to get everyone psyched for the game to start, and I spot Minji handing out our poster-board, ready for me to give the signal.
The first half goes well. No touchdowns, but the boys are playing good offence. Dylan is rocking the quarterback position, the way he does. For the first time I notice how intently Abby watches him. How could I have missed that before?
When they all come in for a rest, the drill team takes the field for their half-time performance. Abby runs straight to Dylan and starts chatting with him, but he keeps looking my direction. Could what he said behind the school the other day be true? If so, I wonder what Abby did to force him to embarrass me like that.
The players head back to locker room for their pep-talk, and the cheerleaders go out to the field for their turn to entertain. I give Minji one serious nod and he gives me a thumbs up signaling he’s ready.
Music pounds from the speakers above and I zone out into the routine. We’ve gone for a more fluid concept then our usual straight arms and perfect triangles. I let it carry me away as the beat leads me through.
When it’s time for the finale, two girls are standing on the boy cheerleader’s hands and Abby and I cross paths doing our back-hand springs. Both of us totally stick it, then we pick up each other’s pom-poms to wave at the audience.
A chant starts to take over the crowd. Not the usual, li-ons li-ons, but instead a name. Abb-y, Abb-y, Abb-y! She freezes, her brow furrowed as Minji directs the audience like a conductor.
We spent countless hours designing and cutting out poster boards so that 50 people could put together a sign. It’s bright green for the school colors, but instead of a lion there’s two white words—I’m Sorry.
Minji flourishes his hands again and the crowd flips over their signs. This side is red with a white word—friends? In the middle, and my name written at the bottom.
“Seriously,” I say to Abby. “Can we please quit this madness?”
I expect her to soften, to understand I want to repair things between us. Instead, her fists are balled, muscles tight, with a vein popping out of her neck.
“Never!” she screams, throwing her pom-poms at me and running off the field.
I stand there, totally blindsided. That was supposed to work. I don’t get it.
Silence rings out, the hush more embarrassing than having a wardrobe malfunction. I pick up two sets of pom-poms and run after Abby, abandoning the rest of the cheer team. I should be the one leading them out there, but I’m sure they’ll figure it out.
I find Abby in the girl’s locker room standing in the corner. Tugging her arm, I twirl her around. “What the crap?”
She shoves me into the metal rows of lockers grabbing my uniform as she goes. “You don’t see, do you?” she screams in my face.
“Hey,” I say, trying to fight her off. Her face is in my face and the rage is so hot her she’s bright red.
“You think saying sorry is enough,” she spits.
“No!” I beg, wishing I understood this reaction.
I knew saying sorry wouldn’t be enough, which is why I planned the whole show to start with. I thought she would love a big gesture like that. She normally does.
She shoves me again, the steel nobs of the locks cutting into my back. “You are such a brat. You don’t even know what you’ve done wrong. If you took one second to figure out what I’m upset about, you wouldn’t have done that.”
“I’m sorry,” I cry, scared of Abby for the first time ever. I can’t think of anything that deserves this level of wrath. “Please tell me what I can do to fix it.”
“Yeah right,” Abby says through barred teeth. “You just want to make yourself feel better, because it’s always about you.”
She lets go of my uniform, but raises her arm like she’s going to hit me. I cower to the ground, shielding my face as I wait for the blow. It doesn’t come. I hear Abby struggling and peek through my fingers to see Minji.
He’s gotten hold of both her wrist and is trying to get her to sit down on the bench in the middle of the room.
“Shh, shh,” he sooths. “Just calm down and we can talk this out.”
I never thought I’d be so happy to have a guy in the girl’s locker room. I don’t know what I’d do if he didn’t come save me, again.
Abby fights against him, her black hair flying around her face as she thrashes.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Minji keeps crooning until Abby folds into herself and sits. “It’s going to be okay,” he finishes. “Whatever this is, we’ll work it out.”
Abby is sobbing now, in control enough that Minji lets go of her as she puts her head in her lap and cries into her arms.
He rushes over to me, checking my body for bruises, “Is everything alright?”
I snuggle into his chest and let him cradle me as ragged breaths escape my lungs. He cups one arm under the bend of my knees, and the other around my shoulders, then lifts. I close my eyes, burying my face into the warmth of his jacket.
His gait is slow and gentle as he carries me out of the locker room and into the humid night air towards the parking lot. The sun has gone down, the cicadas chirping through the dark.
“You saved me again,” I whisper.
He laughs, and I love the way it makes his chest shake. “Guess that’s what I’m meant to do.”
I dare to look into his face. There’s so much more here than a man or a K-pop star. There’s someone who’s put their life on the line for me. Someone who has their neck out for me when they don’t have to.
As much as I resisted, I think Minji is someone I can’t live without.
Heaven Couldn’t be Better Than This
Monday is the best, and I’m not being sarcastic. I haven’t seen Minji all weekend because my parents dragged me on their social rounds with them. I think Mom was afraid when I didn’t show back up to the game Friday night. She wanted to make sure I hadn’t done anything crazy with that Asian boy. Her words.
We did, however, text. I still haven’t turned Minji’s phone back on, and he assumed it got stolen. Since none of his personal things ended up online he got himself a prepaid phone and called it good. All weekend he kept sending me cute emojis and making sure I was still okay.
He also sent me a selfie of him lying in bed at the apartment he’s staying in. I haven’t stopped looking at it since Saturday night. Replace that picture you took with this one. He said. I’m not replacing anything, I’m just making it my new background.
My phone dings and I squeal as I see a new text from him. See you at school today?
How can something so simple make me do a little jig in my bedroom? If he saw this side of me, he’d be so embarrassed.
I might actually be on time today. I write back, giggling to myself.
Today’s outfit is a long flowing top, leggings, and heels—of course. All of the dye is officially off my skin and I’m looking killer. I hope Minji eats his heart out.
My leg bounces all the way to school. I can’t wait to see him. This weekend without him has been torture. When I pull into the parking lot, I spot him immediately.
Minji is leaning against the hood of his car, which I now notice is a classic Mustang. Girls from the school who’ve never looked at an Asian before are stopping and staring. He’s wearing something totally casual, even by Texas standards, which are low. Yet, that whole bad boy vibe is rolling off him. That’s when I notice just the barest hint of guyliner. It makes his already intense eyes smokin’.
I’m the one eating my heart out.
It takes an astronomical amount of willpower to not run his direction. I compose myself before getting out of the truck and strutting the best I can his direction. When he sees me he stands, shoving his hands in his jean pockets.
Undercover Fan Page 6
