She doesn’t seem happy. In fact, she looks more depressed than me. I wish I knew what I did to hurt her so I could make it right again.
If I approach her here, maybe she won’t be so upset. One apology, however huge, was probably not enough.
“Hey,” I say, tapping her shoulder. “Everything alright?”
She doesn’t turn around. “Why are you asking?”
“Whatever I did,” I say, not swayed by her gruffness. “I want to fix it.”
She scoffs, still facing away from me. “I think it’s a little late for that.”
No, it’s not. If it’s too late to fix things with Abby, then it’s too late to fix things with Minji, and I can’t take either of those options without giving up on life.
“If you liked Dylan that bad,” I say, taking a shot in the dark. “I should’ve just stepped out of you way instead of making him the bad guy. It was wrong of me to do the things I did.”
That gets her to look over her shoulder, but not turn around. “You don’t like Dylan?”
I laugh. “No. I never have. Honestly, I wish you had told me. I would’ve gladly handed him over. You’re my best friend. Sisters before misters, ya know?”
She turns all the way around and really looks at me. “But, I saw you hugging him that day.”
He hugged me? When? “Oh!” I say, my eyes going wide as I remember the conversation I had with him outside the cafeteria. I almost forgot about it because Minji showed up. “Yeah, that was icky. I really don’t like him.”
Abby half smiles. “Then, you’re not going to try and get him back?”
“Never,” I say, and I mean it.
She reaches over my desk and gives me a really awkward hug. “Thank you.”
I hold out my pinkie for a promise. “Friends again?”
She grabs it with her pinkie, holding tight. “Sisters before misters.”
As we laugh, her eyes drift to my shirt. “Hang on a second,” she says, her mouth dropping open. “Were you already a K-pop fan?”
I hold out my shirt. “You know who this is?”
Then she does something I don’t expect, she bursts into tears. “I’m so sorry, Corrine. I shouldn’t have hurt you. I was being such an idiot.”
Finally, I’m starting to understand and see it from her perspective. Neither of us made the effort to help each other because we were both keeping secrets.
She lets out a giant sob and puts her head on my desk. Everyone is looking at us now. The starting bell rings and the teacher points to us. “Take it out the hall girls. Come back when you’re ready.” Thank goodness our teacher is so cool.
I nod and pull Abby from her seat. She’s uncontrollably balling as we reach the hall. We find a place in the student lounge and sit in between a wall and a vending machine so no one can see us. As I sit I bring my knees to my chest.
“It’s okay,” I say, one we’re settled “I was a jerk too.”
Abby shakes her head, tears glistening in her eyes. “I didn’t know you knew who Minji was when he first came to our school.”
No way, Corrine knew Minji from the beginning? I never would have pegged her as a K-pop fan. Then again, I wouldn’t have pegged myself as one either.
“I hated you,” she says, dabbing some snot on a tissue I hand her from my bag. “First you had Dylan, and I was jealous. I actually threatened his little sister. Told her she couldn’t do freshman cheer anymore. That’s the only reason he did that balloon prank with me.”
My shoulders sink. No wonder. I guess Dylan really is a good guy. He was helping his sister. I still don’t like him that way, though.
“Then Minji saved you,” Abby says. “And on top of that he put together that amazing apology with you. I didn’t know what to do, so I panicked. I did what I could to make you look bad. It was wrong.”
“Oh honey, come here.” I pull her into a hug and she cries into my shoulder. “It was probably a good thing. Minji and I... well, it’s over now.”
She looks up at me, pushing away. “What happened with that?”
“He found out I was K-pop fan after we kissed.”
She shoves me. “You kissed Minji?!” My ears are ringing she was so loud. I look around to make sure there are no hall monitors. Even if the teacher excused us, behavior like that could get us sent out.
“You probably hate me again, don’t you?” I say.
“No way,” Abby says. “I actually like Dylan. Totally. More than K-pop. Which, trust me, is saying something. I do have to give you mad props though. Tell me everything!”
If she likes Dylan that much, I’m going to support her no matter what. I guess what she needed was time and the right kind of support. I was too rash before.
“I met him at a fan gathering and accidently took his phone. Somehow it got turned on back on at my house. I don’t know how, but once he figured out it was me, he ran.”
“So...” she says. “He dumped you because you like him?”
My shoulders shake as I laugh at the irony. “Yes.”
“Girl,” Abby says, playfully shoving me. “We have to do something about this!”
She’s sweet. If she’s really a K-pop fan then she knows there’s nothing that will fix it. “What can I do? I can’t find him again.”
Abby’s brows pull together as she twiddles her thumbs. “You’re not gonna believe this,” she says. “But I’m actually The PTS fan club president for the area. I’m the one that hosted that fan gathering last month—”
“Shut up!” I say, shoving her a bit harder than she shoved me. “I was the girl who tripped over the projector chord. How come I didn’t see you?”
Memories of the night flood back. I remember how crowded it was, and how I couldn’t see whoever spoke at the microphone. I thought it sounded like her, but I never dreamed... Heck, I should’ve known I sat next to Minji, but I was too focused on myself. Turns out I knew she was there all along.
“No way,” Abby says, once she sees the recognition dawning. “I can’t believe you were a K-pop fan, too. We were meant to be friends.”
“For sure!”
Abby grabs my hands. “I have an idea. If you and Minji met at a fan gathering before, maybe I can host another one.”
My heart skips a beat at the thought. It worked once, why couldn’t it work again? “Are you sure?”
“Yes, Corrine,” Abby says. “I have to make it up to you. I want to be your best friend again, and I think I need to earn that back.”
It’s my turn to hug her. I guess all it took to have a great friend was to be a great friend.
When All Else Fails, Keep Fighting
Abby is seriously the best. We’ve been plotting for the past week, hoping this fan gathering turns out. We’re offering free light sticks to the first two hundred people who come to the show. It wasn’t cheap, but since my parents have so many hookups, we ended up getting a good deal.
Mostly it was because my mom became a K-pop fan. I still haven’t completely accepted that one. After I told her about my obsession she did some research behind my back and ended up watching a drama about kids training to be K-pop stars. After that, she totally fell in love with Korean culture. Now I finally understand why she’s been so cool about Minji.
She got us the venue too. Instead of that cramped restaurant, we have a huge ballroom space located in the heart of Koreatown. All that’s left is to make sure there are no mistakes.
The whole way there, I pray. I pray that people will show up to this thing. I pray that the word has spread far enough to reach Minji. I pray he’s still in Houston. Mostly, I pray my apology will work.
Mom has a stage set up, and she’s decked the whole place out with PTS posters and some of the photo cards from my room.
“Where did you get those?” I ask her as she tacks another photo card to the wall.
Her face gets red. I didn’t think my mom blushed at anything. She turns around and sets her supplies down, then pulls me in for a hug. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I
was the one who turned on Minji’s phone. I swear, I didn’t know it was his. I saw it and got curious. You can’t blame me for wanting to make sure you were safe, right?”
The old me would get upset about this. Even now I can feel the desire to throw a fit, but then I remember that keeping secrets is what brought me here. If Mom knew she could trust me, she wouldn’t have snooped.
“Yeah, Mom,” I say, patting one of her arms around my neck. “It’s okay. But maybe you can trust me a bit more?”
She smiles. “I’ll try.”
***
The place is packed. I have a fair amount of hope Minji will be here because all the light sticks have been given away. There’s no way to spot Minji, though. Lots of people are wearing hats and masks because it’s PTS fan gear.
I’ll just have to do my thing when the time comes.
We start the night off with a few games—guess the PTS member by one body part, random dance play, and fill in the lyrics to PTS songs.
Mom had the whole thing catered and even got a few prizes to donate. I’m in awe of her social prowess. I guess all her networking isn’t so bad after all.
Once the crowd is officially pumped it’s my turn to take the stage. Swag starts blasting from the speakers. Abby and I do a routine we put together, complete with double back hand springs followed by a back tuck. The crowd has gone wild, getting their phones out to record the show.
The energy is incredible. It gives me the courage to do what I’m going to do next.
“We’re going to slow it down for a second,” I say, taking the microphone even though I’m out of breath.
PTS’s Downpour is on softly in the background, a rap set to jazz piano. “I have to take a minute to first thank the PTS fan club for putting this together.”
Abby takes a bow as the crowd cheers.
“And now,” I say, not ready for this moment, but knowing it’s probably my last shot. “I have a confession to make.”
The crowd goes silent, and I can hear Minji’s voice singing on the track behind me. I’ll never understand how someone as manly as him can hit those high notes.
I clear my throat. “Honestly, I lied to someone. I didn’t tell them something that was important to our relationship.”
There’s a lot of curious looks from the crowd, but I press forward anyway. “You see, he thought I fell for him because of K-pop, and in a way, I did.”
A few people lean forward, all ears.
“But,” I continue, “He became someone I loved because of who he was. Not because of the music. If he was here I would tell him how sorry I was, and beg for a chance to make it up to him.”
“You can do it!” Abby shouts, holding up her fist in the fighting sign. The audience follows, fists raised to the air, shouting, “Go for it,” and, “Hwaiting,” in their best Korean accents.
“Thank you all,” I say giving out a wave. “Thanks for coming here, and enjoy the rest of your night!”
PTS’s Teen Anxiety comes on and gets the audience booty shaking once more. I stand on stage for a second longer and search the crowd, hoping I can pick out Minji somewhere, but I can’t see through the sea of black fan shirts and grenade light sticks.
I twist my hands and search, search, search, hoping for a sign of something. Anything, but there’s nothing.
He didn’t come. He must’ve known I would be here. He had to find out somehow. Which only leaves one conclusion, he choose not to be here. As much as I try not to let that thought bother me, it does.
“So?” Abby asks, when the hall is cleared and I sit alone on the side of the stage.
“So,” I say. “That’s it. I said what I wanted to say and he wasn’t here.”
Abby sits next to me, laying her head on my shoulder. “Are you sure? I heard you talk about him. I know you love him. You can’t just let this slide.”
I take a shaky breath. “How can I not, when I love him all by myself?”
“Because,” Abby says, sitting straighter. “Even when I hated you, you convinced me that love is more important than pride. Sometimes to really let someone know you love them, you have to be willing to do whatever it takes.”
She’s right. How can she be right? But it’s true. Maybe I didn’t get a chance tonight, but I can still try and figure something out. I have to. If only there was a way to get my heartfelt words right to him.
“I have an idea,” I say, the realization dawning on me. “I’m going to need you to take a video on your phone.”
Mom helps Abby and I set up the lighting just right and works all three of our phones as cameras so we don’t lose a second of footage.
Abby and I start with our performance again, slaying the PTS song, even landing the back tucks. Next, we put together the best of the footage until it’s just long enough to say my piece over it.
“My name is Corrine,” I say into the phone, speaking over the routine. “And I’m a coward.” We pan to a close-up of my stunt, then return to the dance. “I kept a secret because I didn’t want to lose a person. I kept that secret even when I knew it would hurt them. I kept that secret because I knew they wouldn’t see me the same way again.
“I’m making this video to say one thing. I promise that person I won’t say anything more after this, but let them live in peace.”
The routine ends and we switch to filming me sitting in a chair, alone.
“Nothing we did together was fake,” I say, my voice cracking. “For the first time in my life, I showed my true self to someone. Even my best friend didn’t know who I was when you did. I’m not going to plead for anything. I know how pathetic it’s made me. I just wanted to thank you.
“If it wasn’t for you, I never would’ve found myself. I never would’ve believed I was worth the kind of attention you gave me. You didn’t focus on how I looked. You’re the only person who treated me like I was worth more than the clothes I wore. I can’t thank you enough.”
It’s too hard to look at the camera, so I focus on my feet instead. “I promise, you’ll never have to see me again, but I couldn’t let you leave without you knowing that. And...you promised to take me to the Winter Ball next weekend.”
I give Mom a nod and she puts away the phones.
Now I can go knowing I’ve done everything I can to get to him.
“It’s up on YouTube as Awesome PTS Dance,” Abby says as we pack up the last of the stuff.
It’s late, past two a.m. by the time we get home I’m exhausted, but I also can’t sleep without checking my phone one last time.
I sit up when I see Minji has posted on Instagram. It’s not one of his usual selfies, but instead a black square.
The caption reads sometimes it’s darkest before the dawn.
I want to believe that means something, but I can’t keep getting my hopes up.
Instead, I chose a fit-full and heartbroken sleep.
At Least I Remembered How to be a Friend
“Ten thousand views, can you believe it?” Abby says.
“Pretty crazy,” I respond, not really listening. So what if our video has gone viral? It hasn’t brought Minji back.
It’s Friday, the Winter Ball is tomorrow, and I’m not going. For the first time since intermediate school, I’m not going to a dance. It’s fine because I’m not in the mood, and I don’t even have a dress.
“Earth to Corrine,” Abby says, waving a hand in front of my face.
I shake out of my reverie and give my full attention to her. “I’m sorry Abby, I’m just really out of it.”
She nods like she understands, and I know she does. Things haven’t been great with Dylan lately. She made up with his sister, but it’s still touch and go. I’ve done what I can to send him her way, but she can’t make him like her.
I told her if things ever work out with Minji, I could set her up with Hyungkook and she seemed pretty happy with that.
“You know what we need?” Abby says, getting that look in her eye. The one that tells me she’s up to no good.
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“Oh no,” I groan. “What is it?”
“Chill out,” Abby says through a laugh. “I was thinking we could have a girl’s night. We’ll get our nails done, do some shopping, buy hair accessories.”
“I don’t know,” I say, it sounds fun, but lately I’ve been worried about jinxing my own happiness.
Abby snaps her fingers. “I just got the best idea!”
I’m really worried about her ideas right now. “What’s that?”
“We go to the winter ball,” she says, hands clasped together like she’d begging.
“With no dates?”
Abby rolls her eyes. “No, silly. We’ll be each other’s dates. We’re going to blow everyone out of the water.”
It’s absolutely ludicrous. Finding a dress right now will be a mortal pain. I look in Abby’s big brown puppy-dog eyes, watch the quiver of lip, and I know I can’t disappoint her. It’s probably just the thing I need, anyway.
“Please, please, please,” she says, tugging on my arm.
This is why the squeaky wheel gets the grease.
“Okay, okay, I give.”
She jumps in the air, lifting her hands above her head. “Yes! I win!”
I can’t help but giggle at her energy. “Let’s go before the mall closes.”
Taking her arm in mine, we set off to conquer the world.
***
The Winter Ball is the usual cheese fest that high school dances are. Paper snowflakes hang from ceiling, glitter sprinkled on their surfaces. A disco ball dangles in the middle of the room reflecting rainbow light onto the floor.
But none of that matters. This has been the most fun I’ve ever had at a dance. Abby and I play up being complete hams, even dancing with each other on the slow songs and teasing the couples making out under the low light.
I’m a little sad I don’t have a guy with me, because I look freaking amazing. Abby found me this blue gown that’s tight around the top and huge are the bottom with plenty of glitter on the bodice. My shoes are killer too, silvery sparkly heels. They may not be glass but I still feel like Cinderella.
“The next song goes out to Corrine.”
Undercover Fan Page 9
