Chapter 22 Understand Me
I’M GRATEFUL FOR the upcoming weekend; it will provide time for well-deserved rest. I consider the days I’ve managed to attend in-person classes a small victory, as well as my online class, since I have to leave my camera on.
Now I can once again enjoy the comfort and safety of my room.
I won’t have to see Kang, which is a relief for my anxiety, but it also makes me sad.
Now that I’ve met him, I want to continue seeing him.
It’s dark out and I’m sitting by the window, remembering my last panic attack and how Kang stayed on the phone with me until it passed, distracting me with thoughts of autumn. He’s been so kind, so understanding.
Part of me still can’t believe what happened today.
I had face-to-face conversations with Kang, Erick, and Diego, three guys my age, and I didn’t die trying.
A few weeks ago, if someone had told me that I would do what I did today, I wouldn’t have believed them.
I didn’t think I was capable of talking to anyone my age. Let alone a guy I like.
I guess Dr. B. is right: Every breakthrough, no matter how small, propels me further down my path to a normal life. Today felt pretty normal. I felt normal.
For the first time I truly begin to believe that I can do this. I feel even more motivated, especially after the conversation I had with Diego. The fact that my words had a positive effect on Dario’s family feels gratifying.
I breathe on the window, fogging up the glass, and trace the letter K with my finger. It reminds me of finger painting, which was one of my favorite techniques.
I hear someone clear their throat and I turn around. Kamila is at my bedroom door in her pajamas with two steaming mugs in her hands.
“Hot chocolate?”
I beam. “Is there anyone alive who can say no to hot chocolate?”
She nods. “Andy.”
“Andy doesn’t count.”
She comes into the room and sits beside me at the window, handing me a cup. For a moment we don’t say anything. It’s not awkward—it’s just us, two sisters enjoying a nice cup of hot chocolate. I take several sips before breaking the silence. “I know what you want to ask.”
She raises an eyebrow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Kamila…”
“What?”
“You don’t have to pretend. I know you.”
She takes a sip from her cup. “I’m a new person. I’m trying to be less… invasive.”
“Asking people questions and analyzing their answers is part of who you are. That’s why you studied psychiatry. So go ahead and ask.”
“I don’t want to pester you, Klara.”
“Kamila, I admit that your constant questions can be annoying at times, but I’m used to it. I love you just the way you are; I wouldn’t change anything about you.”
Her eyes redden and she lets out a long breath of air. “Don’t say things like that, you’ll make me cry.”
I take her free hand and squeeze it.
“But, since you’ve given me the green light, I’m dying to know how your day went. You have no idea how worried I was when the storm suddenly hit, with you stuck on campus.”
“I did so well, Kami. I had a normal day—can you believe it? I can’t. I talked to people my age, made friends.”
“I’m so glad, K. I can believe it. You’ve fought hard to get where you are. It’s time to reap some rewards, like today.”
“Hey.”
Kamila and I turn to see Andy in the doorway.
“You’re having a pajama party and you didn’t invite me?”
“No, come on in. The entrance fee is a cup of hot chocolate.”
He opens his mouth to protest, but Kamila cuts him off. “No exceptions.”
Andy leaves and comes back a few minutes later with a cup in his hand. Kamila and I share an amused look as he sits on the bed since there’s no more room at the window.
“What? I wanted to join the PJ party.”
Kamila narrows her eyes at him. “We know that’s tea in there.”
I smile and the three of us sit enjoying our hot drinks.
“So, what did I miss?”
“Klara was telling me how well she did today, despite the storm.”
“We’re so proud of you, Klara.” Andy fist-bumps me.
I thank him, and we continue to chat about my first couple weeks of college until eventually Andy looks at his watch and asks, “Isn’t it time for that radio show you like?”
I sigh. “There’s no show today because of the storm.”
“Don’t worry,” Andy says. “I’m sure it’ll only be for today.”
I glance at my phone: zero messages. I haven’t heard from Kang since I left campus this afternoon, and I can’t deny that it has me feeling a little anxious.
We’ve never gone this many hours without texting.
My insecurities return: He’s met me now and I’m not what he expected, so he doesn’t want to talk to me anymore .
I consider sending him a message, but I don’t want to seem desperate or intense. But then again, he’s always the one who reaches out first. Maybe it’s time for me to take the initiative.
Andy and Kamila leave and I get in bed, but I can’t fall asleep. Every time I close my eyes, I see Kang—his smile, his eyes, his expressions… those dimples that just disarm me.
I could get started on my reading assignment for my American Literature course or look over my slides for the presentation we have coming up—that will definitely make me tired.
But I’m not sure I’d be able to concentrate, especially when I know the cause of my restlessness: Kang not having texted me.
I give in. I pick up my phone and send him a message.
Me: Awake?
He doesn’t answer. He can’t be asleep. It’s barely ten o’clock and Kang is a night owl, as he’s told me many times. Well, at least I tried; now maybe I can fall asleep.
My phone buzzes with a new message and I sit up to check it.
Kang: Yes.
Something’s not right. Kang has never been one for dry, one-word responses.
Me: What are you doing?
Kang: Nothing.
His message seems to confirm my greatest fear: Now that he’s met me, he no longer wants to talk to me. Why would he? He’s seen what I look like: a skeleton in a wig.
Did you really think a guy like him would ever be attracted to you? He clearly only said you’re hot to be nice. Again, that cruel voice inside my head.
I don’t bother to respond, because I get it, I’m not stupid.
I put my phone under my pillow and stare up at the dark ceiling.
My chest burns and my stomach aches; this hurts, a lot.
These feelings of rejection and disappointment are much more heartbreaking than I thought they would be.
Even though I’ve tried to keep my expectations in check, I couldn’t help but get my hopes up, especially after how much fun we had today. I’m such an idiot!
My phone buzzes under my pillow, and I check the screen. It’s an incoming call from Kang. My broken heart wakes up and beats with hope once again.
“Hello?”
“Hey.”
How is it that he can make me melt with just one word? I don’t know what to say. He sighs and I begin to chew on a fingernail. “What’s wrong, Kang?” I ask. Ignoring the fact that he’s acting different won’t get us anywhere.
“Nothing, just…” He pauses, and his voice sounds off. “I’m sorry, Klara, I was being an idiot.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I was dying to text you, and I shouldn’t have responded like that. I just got carried away by my emotions.”
“Emotions?”
“I was a bit hurt by you.”
I’m even more confused now. “Why? What did I do?”
“It doesn’t matter, Klara. Let’s pretend it didn’t happen and talk like normal, okay?”
“I’m so confused, Kang.”
He lets out a long sigh. “I know, it’s my fault… What are you doing? How did the rest of your afternoon go?”
I hesitate. I know he wants to move past this, but how can he expect me not to ask what I’ve done to upset him? But he’s always been so patient with me, never pressuring me to explain things even when he’s dying to know. I can return the favor; I can be understanding with him.
“Well, I had a hot chocolate with my sister and brother-in-law,” I say, making myself comfortable.
“Would you believe me if I told you I did exactly the same thing tonight?” His voice has recovered its usual charisma. “Not with my sister, of course—she’s not good at sharing when it comes to chocolate.”
“I believe you,” I say, smiling. “I missed your show today.”
He laughs and it makes me smile once more. “Yeah, I wish I could go on every weekday—days without my show are strange for me, especially when I’m supposed to be on.”
“For me, too. I hate not being able to hear you on Follow My Voice .”
“I’m curious, Klara: How long have you been listening to the show?”
I stay silent a moment, deciding whether to tell him the truth. That I have been listening to him every other night for a year now because his voice gives me peace and helps me forget my fears, my negative thoughts, my sadness. That his show has saved me.
“A little over a year.”
“A year? Really?”
“Yes…” I pause. “And I can’t thank you enough for… this whole year. You have no idea how much you help people with your show.”
“That means a lot to me, Klara. I started Follow My Voice with that intention, to help people, and if I’ve affected your life in a positive way, I’m glad.”
“Well, you have.” You’ve done so much more than help me. You’ve made me feel things that no one has ever been able to make me feel. I had a hard time feeling anything for so long after what I went through. But it’s so easy with you, Kang .
“Wow, but a year is a long time… Why didn’t you ever send any messages to the show before?”
“Well, I figured they would just get buried under so many others. That’s the only reason I even got the courage to finally message you; I never imagined you would actually read it.”
“I read all your messages, Klara, until I finally got the courage to get your phone number from the station and text you directly. Honestly, I expected you to call me a stalker and block my number.”
I smile. “I considered it.”
“Really? Then why go through the trouble of getting me to read a quote on the air? Erick teased me for days afterward, by the way—said I started incorporating more quotes into the show because of you without even knowing you.”
“Sorry not sorry about Erick, but I needed to make sure it was you.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why ? I didn’t want to talk to someone pretending to be you.”
“Well, it’s me. Just plain, boring me.”
“You’re not boring,” I respond. “How can you say that when you have a radio show that dozens upon dozens of people listen to? You’ve even got a little fanbase going on.”
“Fair point.”
“Someone’s cocky.”
He lets out a gasp. “Ouch. You wound me, Klara. Not cocky, I just happen to think you made a fair point, seeing as we did share some of those snacks today.”
I’m about to respond, but a yawn comes out instead, and he seems to hear it.
“I’ll let you sleep. Talk tomorrow?” he says softly.
“Talk tomorrow, Kang.”
“Goodnight, gorgeous.”
He hangs up and my heart skips a beat at that last word. Kang just called me “gorgeous.” I must be hallucinating. And even though I want to know why he was upset with me, I can’t help but fall asleep with a smile on my lips. I’m so tired after this long, normal day.