Chapter 9 Surprise Me
“KLARA.”
The sound of the water running as I wash the dishes almost drowns out the insistent voice calling my name.
My body is present, but my mind is elsewhere.
Even though it’s been two hours since Kang’s show ended, I can’t stop replaying his last words over and over, confirming that he in fact sent me those messages the other night.
A hand waves in front of my face. “Klara.” Someone shakes my shoulder, bringing me back to reality.
“What is it?”
Kamila appears at my side, studying me like always. “What are you thinking about? You’re on the moon.”
“Oh…” I soap a cup with the sponge. “Nothing.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure? That’s the fourth time you’ve washed that same cup; I’m sure it’s more than clean by now.”
I rinse the cup, turn off the tap, and dry my hands with a dish towel. “You wanted to talk to me?”
She nods and gestures for me to follow her to the living room sofa.
I can already guess what she wants to talk about, so I’m not surprised when she begins.
“We didn’t finish our conversation the other day.
Now, before you get worked up, I just need you to hear me out.
The fall semester just started, and I want you to sign up for classes before the window for registration closes.
” She tries to sound firm, but her eyes are wary, attentive to my every reaction.
“I know it seems fast, but I’ve checked with your therapist and he agrees that you’re ready to take this next step.
He wants to see you before you start your first day. ”
“What, like he’s going to be able to prep me for it?”
“He wants to give you some advice in case you have any difficulties at first.”
“Difficulties? Do you mean like a nervous breakdown or a panic attack?”
Kamila purses her lips; the possibility obviously concerns her. “I can go with you on the first day, if that would make you feel better.”
“Of course, what better way to keep from attracting attention than to have my sister there as a bodyguard!”
To my surprise, Kamila smiles. “Your sarcasm is back, that’s good.”
I look out the window behind the couch. My chest constricts with fear as I imagine myself surrounded by dozens of college students, all examining me, expressions of disgust on their faces; the girls who used to say they were my friends, whispering about me.
That was high school, Klara, my subconscious reminds me. Maybe college is different.
Can I really give it a shot just because I hope the mean teenagers from high school have matured, though?
It seems like wishful thinking. Dr. B. would probably say something like “ How bad can it be? If it doesn’t work out, then we’ll try something else .
” I bite my lip, considering my options.
What if it’s too soon? We can wait another month, right?
That’s probably a safer approach, and that’s what I need: to be safe.
I’m about to say no when I look away from the window and my eyes land on my sister.
I face her hopeful expression, the glint in her eyes and those small wrinkles between and above her eyebrows that have gotten worse since Mom died, and I can’t say anything for a minute.
She’s been with me through everything and she lost her mother, too.
And she almost lost me. In this instant, as I stare at her, I can’t take that hope away from her.
Maybe Follow My Voice ’s topic was meant to land on my ears. Thinking of remote classes makes me believe there’s a way I can appease my sister while still protecting myself as much as possible.
I take a deep breath because I need to believe that I can make an effort for myself and for her, too.
“I’ll give college a try, on two conditions,” I say.
Kamila’s eyes widen in surprise; she obviously didn’t expect a positive response so readily. “Sure, whatever you want.”
“I want to start with just one in-person class, and if it’s too much, I’ll drop it. The rest of the classes will be online, and I’ll choose them.”
“Okay, what’s the second condition?”
“I want to start out at community college.”
Kamila frowns. I have a feeling it’s because she was hoping I’d want to attend Duke University, the school she graduated from with honors.
But my ex-best friend now attends Duke and I have no desire to run into her.
Besides, the acceptance process takes months, and even though Kamila still knows people there and could probably pull some strings, that feels wrong, unjust to others.
Kamila thinks about it for a second. “All right, I’ll see about getting you enrolled in community college. You’ll probably start a few weeks late, since classes have already begun, but I’ll try to make it happen as soon as possible.”
I give my sister a tight-lipped smile and take her hand. “Thank you. I really appreciate everything you do for me.”
Kamila squeezes my hand gently. “It’s my pleasure, K.”
We hear the sound of the front door opening and shortly after, Andy appears, loosening his tie. “What do we have here? Girls’ meeting?”
Kamila lets go of my hand. “Klara has just agreed to start college this semester.”
“I agreed to give it a try,” I correct her.
Andy can’t hide his surprise. “Really? That’s great.” He sits down with us and we chat for a while about a case he’s working on that has been keeping him in the office longer hours than usual.
Andy is a lawyer and has just started his own law firm with a couple friends from law school.
He’s been a little stressed, but he assures us it’s nothing he can’t handle.
But when the conversation switches to community college, it’s me who begins to wonder if it’s something I can handle.
My mind starts spinning with every possible thing that could go wrong, and I feel my heart starting to accelerate.
I can’t help but excuse myself, pretending I’d like to get a head start and look at possible college courses.
I don’t want to burst Kamila’s bubble, even though by the way she’s looking at me, I can tell she’s already worried.
She’s about to say something, no doubt ask me if I’m okay, but I stand and wish them a good night.
When I get back to my room, I nervously check my phone in hopes of finding a text from Kang: zero messages. I toss it onto the bed; what did I expect? I demanded that Kang confirm his identity and now that he has, am I supposed to text him? I’m not going to.
I sit on the bed, stretch out my legs, and pick up my laptop.
I navigate to the webpage I use to watch my favorite K-dramas and click on an episode, but I can’t concentrate, constantly glancing at my phone.
It would be better for everyone if Kang just never messaged me again, a sign for me to come to my senses and stop feeding these impossible delusions.
He wrote to me because he doesn’t know how messed up I am.
It was simple curiosity, as he himself said.
It’s late now, almost eleven o’clock, and I know he’s not going to text me tonight. Why does it make me so sad?
You’re an idiot, Klara. Don’t get your hopes up, don’t expect anything from him. That’s the only way to keep yourself safe .
That’s what I’ll do. Everything will be fine.
My phone buzzes, announcing a new message, and all my previous thoughts go out the window, because I know it can only be him.
No one ever texts me, with the exception of Kamila and Andy, and they’re home, so they would come to my room if they had something to tell me.
I pause the Korean drama and open the message.
Kang: Are you there?
Me: Yes.
Kang: Forgive me for writing so late.
Me: No big deal.
Kang: I got tired of waiting for you to text me.
Me: Was I supposed to?
Kang: I thought you would after I confirmed my identity.
Me: Oh, sorry…
Kang: Am I bothering you, K? If so, just tell me. I’ll understand.
I hesitate for a moment. If I say yes, he’ll stop texting me and my heart will be safe; if I say no, we’ll keep talking and I know my interest in him will only grow.
What should I do?
My finger scrolls up and down the screen, scanning through the conversation with Kang as I try to make a decision. I have to stay inside my safe zone. I’m not sure it’s a good idea to keep talking to him since I’ll never be able to get to know him in person.
Gritting my teeth, I prepare to lie and tell him that he is indeed bothering me.
“We should all live as if we were going to die tomorrow; we would have much fuller lives if we didn’t assume we had all the time in the world.
” My mother’s sweet voice echoes in my mind.
No one knows better than I do that we don’t have all the time in the world.
Before I have a chance to regret it, I respond.
Me: No, you’re not bothering me.
Kang: Sweet :) What’s your name?
Me: Just call me K.
Kang: You’re shy, aren’t you?
Me: I guess so.
Kang: Well, what are you doing up so late, K?
Me: I was watching a Korean drama.
Kang: Why does that not surprise me?
Me: What do you mean?
Kang: They’ve become very popular.
Me: Have you watched any?
Kang: Yes.
Me: Really? I didn’t expect that.
Kang: My sister forces me to watch them with her.
Me: I like your sister.
Kang: What about me? From your messages to the show, I could’ve sworn you liked me.
I remember all the messages I sent professing my admiration for Kang and the show… but I did so thinking I would never talk to him.
Me: I really like your show.
Kang: My show, or me?
I didn’t expect him to be so direct. I bite my lower lip, unsure of what to say. Kang seems to sense my discomfort.
Kang: Just joking, K.
I need to change the subject. I’m so careful with all of my responses; editing them over and over before I send them.
I don’t want to write something dumb or make any spelling mistakes.
Maybe I’m overthinking it, but I’m talking to the guy I’ve been listening to on the radio for the past year, so I think it’s understandable that I want to be meticulous.
Me: And what are you doing awake?
Kang: Just thinking. I’m not sleepy.
Me: I’ve been there. Thinking too much keeps me awake.
Kang: And what do you do to get to sleep?
Me: Chamomile tea helps.
Kang: I have some, I’ll give it try. Talk to me while I make it. What K-drama are you watching?
Me: A romantic one.
Kang: How specific!
Me: Was that sarcasm?
Kang: Yes.
Me: Wow, I didn’t know you could be sarcastic.
Kang: There are a lot of things you don’t know about me.
Me: Like what?
Kang: Like how curious I am about you.
My heart beats faster. Why did he have to say that?
Me: Don’t waste your time. I’m nothing special.
Kang: That’s hard to believe considering that you’ve quoted Edgar Allan Poe six times on my show.
Has he counted? I don’t remember how many times I sent him lines from different poems, stories, and books I like.
Me: So you’re curious as to why I quoted a famous poet?
Kang: No, because you’ve sent quotes from a lot of my favorite books.
Me: So I’ve piqued your curiosity through literature?
Kang: You could say that.
Me: Seems a bit cliché.
Kang: Why can’t I be cliché?
Me: You can be anything you want to be.
That’s the big difference between him and me: He has a bright future ahead of him. I, on the other hand, have limited horizons.
Kang: I owe you one, K.
Me: Why?
Kang: The chamomile worked.
Me: Oh, I’m glad.
Kang: Think I’ll be able to sleep now :) Talk tomorrow?
Me: Okay, good night, Kang.
I feel a strange sensation in my stomach as I type his name.
Kang: Good night.
I put my phone down, but another message comes in.
Kang: And you can be anything you want to be, too, K. Talk tomorrow.
I lay in bed, a big grin on my face. I spend the next few minutes going through our conversation, wishing it could’ve gone on a while longer.
As I read through our texts, I try not to think about one of the main things causing me to stress about community college—something I haven’t allowed myself to voice inwardly or outwardly: I’ll be attending Durham Community College—the same college Kang goes to.