Chapter 39 Catch Me
ALL IN GOOD time , I remind myself. Kang told me about his brother and my heart breaks as I imagine what he must have felt when he found Jung dead.
The helplessness, the guilt. I don’t want to get into the sad story of how my mother died, not tonight.
It’s his turn to open his heart to me. There will be time for me to share my story with him on future dates.
There’s a special connection created with someone who has gone through similar pain: the feeling that we’re no longer so alone, so misunderstood.
“You got very quiet all of a sudden,” Kang says.
“I’m just thinking crazy things.”
“Crazy? Like what, try me.”
“No, another time.” I smile nervously; even though I feel comfortable with him, his presence still makes my heart flutter. I have to look away from him when I gaze into the depth of his eyes. “When are you going to invite me to see you sing at the bar on Fourteenth Street?”
Kang raises an eyebrow. “Klara, it’s our first date and you already want to commit a crime together?” he jokes.
“Oh, come on, singing in a bar is not a crime.”
“It is if you’re underage, which you are.”
“Can’t you persuade the owner to let me in? Just turn on your charm.”
“I think you’re overestimating my charm.” He rests his elbows on the table and leans toward me. “Am I charming?”
Without meaning to, my eyes drop to his lips and I instantly remember the feeling of his kiss. I scrape the bottom of the ice cream cup to buy myself time, though there hasn’t been any left for a while now, then place my hands in my lap. “As if you didn’t know…”
He leans back and I’m grateful for the distance between us. “Maybe I don’t know, Klara.”
“I’m not going to tell you how charming you are, Kang.”
“Ouch, why so hostile?” He runs his hand through his hair, tousling it, which makes him look even hotter.
“I’ll tell you how charming you are when you take me to see you play at that bar.”
“Oh, are we negotiating now?”
“I learned it from you,” I say, shrugging.
I remember all the times Kang got information out of me. It seems like a long time ago, back when I was still stuck in my room, not going out, and the thought of seeing him someday hadn’t even crossed my mind. Yet here we are, face-to-face, having our first date.
“Fine, if you don’t want to take me to see you play, then at least tell me the story behind the mask.”
Kang looks down at his empty cup, moving his spoon around, as if contemplating what to say.
I’m about to tell him we can save it for another time since he’s already opened up so much to me, but to my surprise, he takes a deep breath, then begins.
“I only ever played for my brother.” He pauses.
“He was the one who believed in me, who swore I belonged on a stage even when I laughed it off. But after he died… playing didn’t feel right anymore.
Music was ours—something that existed in late-night jam sessions, just the two of us.
I wasn’t ready to share it with the world, not without him.
The mask… it keeps it that way. It lets me play without feeling like I’m giving away something that was only his to hear.
Up there, no one knows me. No one sees me.
And for now, that’s the only way I can do it. It’s stupid, I know…”
I place my hand on his and rub it gently with my thumb. “It’s not stupid, Kang.”
He offers a barely-there smile, then says, “As much as I’ve enjoyed sharing ice cream and a painful part of my past with you, and as much as I wish this day would never end, I don’t want Dr. Rodríguez to get mad at me for having you miss your curfew.”
I sigh, but give in. “You’re right. We should head out.”
All the way home, I pester him about inviting me to see him play. I really want to hear him sing. I can’t even imagine how his voice might make me feel.
Suddenly his phone rings and he hands it to me. “Can you get that? Tell him I’m driving.”
It’s a video call from Erick. Suddenly I remember that I’m not wearing a wig. I don’t feel brave enough to face someone like Erick. I stare at the phone in my hands for a few eternal seconds as thousands of thoughts flash through my mind. Kang calls out to me, but he sounds distant.
Erick is going to laugh at you.
No, he won’t.
Maybe not, but he’ll pity you, like everyone does when they see you without a wig. Remember the sad looks at the hospital when you got your treatment?
I close my eyes and picture my mother’s smile, how beautiful she looked even without hair. “It’s just hair, baby, it’ll grow back,” she said, winking. “Let’s look on the bright side: I won’t have to wear a hairnet when I’m baking my cakes anymore.”
I inhale deeply, puffing out my chest and feeling the air fill my lungs, and then release it all before accepting the video call.
Erick appears on the screen with messy hair, sitting on a sofa.
“Hey,” he says, looking confused when he sees me.
“Hey.”
“You’re not Kang.”
“Nope.”
“I’m driving!” Kang shouts and I turn the phone so Erick can see him. “What do you want?”
“That’s how you say hello?” Erick snorts. “Klara”—I turn the phone back to me—“can you believe how he treats his best friend?”
He doesn’t even seem to notice that I am not wearing my wig, and here I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown about it.
“Sometimes, our anxious mind causes us to worry about other people’s reactions or perceptions and we give life to an entire cycle of anxiety even though these thoughts have never even crossed their minds. We create anxiety based on assumptions.” Dr. B.’s words return to me. How right he is.
“Don’t be dramatic, Erick. What do you want?” Kang asks.
“I was going to ask for the notes for Professor Johnson’s upcoming final, but actually, better question is, does she know?” Erick asks, and Kang frowns.
“Know what?” I look at Erick for an answer.
“Kang finally signed up for the talent show in Charlotte—you going with us to cheer him on or what?”
“Ah… I…”
“Erick, leave her alone. I don’t even know if I’m actually going,” Kang explains, shaking his head.
“Come on, man!” Erick whines, but I’m suddenly distracted by Kang as he motions for me to give him the phone. I hand it to him.
“Bye, Erick.”
“Wait—”
And Kang hangs up. “Sorry, Erick can be a pain in the ass.”
I lick my lips. “So… are you… going to the talent show?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“You should go,” I say with a reassuring smile.
“Would you go with me?”
My smile fades.
Charlotte is three hours away by car and one hour by plane.
Neither option sounds like something I’m capable of handling at the moment, especially after my panic attack tonight.
I’ve grown comfortable around campus, but a road trip so far away is another level.
It’s in this moment that I realize I still have more work to do.
Kang glances at me. “Is that a no?”
“I don’t think I’m ready yet.”
“That’s okay. Like I said, I don’t think I’m going.”
“Is it because of what you said earlier?”
Kang runs a hand over his face while keeping his other hand on the steering wheel. “Yes… No… I… I don’t know. I may not be ready for it.”
“I get it.” I nod.
We ride in silence the rest of the way, both of us deep in personal thoughts, until Kang pulls up outside my house. He rests his forearm on the steering wheel and turns to me.
“I had a great time,” I say. “Tonight was… very special to me.”
“I’m so glad. That means… second date?”
“Of course,” I say, too quickly, and then grimace with embarrassment.
Kang smiles and his adorable dimples appear.
He takes off his seatbelt and leans toward me.
His face isn’t even close and I’ve already closed my eyes, squeezing them tightly shut.
His lips brush mine and I can feel my heart beating in my throat.
Kang kisses me softly, giving me time to catch up with him.
I put a hand on one of his shoulders and kiss him slowly.
After a few seconds, he speeds up the movement of his lips against mine, tilting his head to deepen the kiss as he puts a hand on my waist and pulls me closer to him.
I squeeze his shoulders and feel the kiss growing in intensity.
Kang’s breathing becomes heavy and so does mine, whether because of nerves or the sensations this kiss awakens.
His hands around my waist grip me longingly and it’s as if the heat from that contact penetrates my clothes and makes my skin tingle.
Kang’s kisses become more passionate, and when I feel his tongue, I lose all sense of where we are.
I want… I need to feel more of him, all of him .
A moan escapes my lips and becomes trapped in his mouth.
I can’t stop, even though I know I have to; this is addictive.
I pull away to pant. Kang rests his head against mine and kisses my nose before straightening up in his seat.
We’re both out of breath, flushed, with swollen lips.
He bites his lower lip and gives me a crooked smile.
“Good night, Klara,” he whispers, and I can’t help but smile, too.
“Good night, Kang.”
I go inside, walking on air.
I’ve spent the entire weekend buried in textbooks, my hand cramping from nonstop note-taking, until I finally force myself to take a break.
With a sigh of relief, I grab my popcorn and Coke, settling in just as Kang’s special Sunday broadcast begins, something he gives his listeners to make up for shows he misses due to holidays.
It’s a completely different experience now that I know him and we’ve shared so much; now, my interest in him has become tangible, real.
I replay our last kiss over and over in my mind, my cheeks instantly flushing.
As soon as he finishes his show, Kang calls me.
“We have to go see them play live one day,” says Kang, talking about one of the local bands he promotes on Follow My Voice .
I take the last sip of my Coke. “I love that idea.”
Kang sighs. “I already have our next date planned. We’re going to Carowinds. How about Saturday?”