CHAPTER FOUR
JASE
“ B abygirl. Please .”
Noel completely ignores me as she sniffs around the shrubbery, investigating as though some major event has occurred in this exact area in the nine hours between us being here right now and when we were standing in this precise spot before I went to work this morning.
“I know you have business to do, little dog,” I grumble.
Thanks to an after-school run-in with Tyler, who was complaining about having to sleep on the couch after forgetting his anniversary, and finding out the principal wants to put me in charge of yet another committee, I am running late. Normally, Noel and I would take a nice walk before thinking about dinner or whatever else the evening might hold. But today, I am keeping an eye on my watch because I have three minutes until I’m supposed to be in front of my computer for my session with Nikko, and I don’t want to keep him waiting.
Because that would be unprofessional, obviously. Certainly not because I’d been looking forward to seeing him all day. Which I would also do with any other student, of course. In a strictly educational service providing capacity. I keep telling myself this, like I’m trying to convince my own conscience that everything is fine.
The mail carrier decides to drive by in their little white postal van at that moment, of course, distracting Noel from the one task she’s out here to accomplish.
“Noel! Potty first, bark later!” I plead. I start walking toward the house, hoping she’ll take the hint. She does, finally, and I scoop her up to get her back inside. Dropping her on the couch, I quickly take her harness off and toss it on the ottoman to deal with later.
I allow myself one deep breath to attempt to slip into Serious Business Mode before connecting the call. I know it won’t last; it never does. I’ve all but given up on trying to keep our calls casual and impersonal. I don’t know what it is about Nikko, but everything about this has been different from the beginning.
Sure, he’s older than the students I usually tutor, so we can talk about more things. He’s also smart and interesting, which makes him a good conversational partner. And there is the possibility that he is the most gorgeous person I’ve ever seen. But really, I just like talking to him.
Maybe, though, that’s the crux of it right there, and Kija was right when he set this up for us, saying I needed the social interaction. I’d never tell him that, obviously. Would never admit he might have been right that I was missing this kind of connection.
I wonder for just a second—a fleeting moment—if it’s time to download a dating app again. I know that “dating” is an awfully strong word for what happens on most of them, and that’s what keeps me away, too. I don’t want to hook up with someone. I’ve never been that guy who could just hit and quit it. And I don’t want to be that guy now, either.
But maybe there’s someone out there who actually wants to get to know a person before the negotiation of whose body parts go where begins.
I startle when the chime comes through. It’s become something of a race—who can call the other first, the moment the designated time arrives. Even with the changes to our meeting time, neither of us have ever missed.
As soon as I see Nikko come into view, smiling as he squints at the screen, I forget everything I’d just been thinking about.
Instead of his usual probably-fresh-from-the-gym look, he’s more dressed up than I’ve ever seen him. He’s wearing a black shirt that fits him better than the tee shirts I’m used to, earrings all hoops instead of the variety of dangles and chains, and his hair is styled instead of tucked under a hat or held back by a headband. He looks so good that I honestly can’t remember a single word to say to start the conversation.
“Hello, Jase.” He smiles and gives me a little wave, light glinting off the rings on his fingers.
Entirely overwhelmed by everything he is, I’m not sure I know my own name right now. This will absolutely be embarrassing when I recall it later.
Nikko stares at me through the screen, regarding my silence. “How are you today? Are you okay?”
Finally shaking it off, I give him what I hope is a reassuring grin. “Yes. Yeah. Sorry. I just... it’s been a crazy day. I was running a little behind and…” I stop myself. The details don’t matter right now. I don’t want to waste time on them when I could be listening to him. “I’m good. And you?”
He gives me a glance that suggests he doesn’t entirely believe me, but answers me anyway. “I have had a nice day. Busy. But I do not mind that.”
I want to ask what he’s been doing, but I figure it’s better to wait and see if he volunteers the information. “Busy can be good. It makes the time go faster. I definitely prefer being busy to being bored.”
Nikko nods, but then says, “I do not... remember being bored. I am not that much.”
“Same,” I agree. “I honestly couldn’t tell you the last time I was bored, either. But I do know that a slow day at work is kind of a terrible one.” Which is the truth. The rare days when the library is quiet take so long to pass and I hate it. I much prefer the activity and noise that goes along with a space full of teenagers.
“Your work is slow? Sometimes?” he asks, his expression curious.
I have dropped a lot of pieces of trivial information in our talks, just to keep the conversation going or try to find some common ground. But like Nikko, I’ve never gone into much detail about anything. I have always believed people will ask what they want to know, and have often found that a lot of them just aren’t really that interested. Nikko hasn’t questioned me on many things, but I’ll answer whatever he asks. Tell him anything he wants to hear about.
“Sometimes,” I say. “The library is usually pretty full of students or classes. But there are days every now and then when it’s just me and my scary assistant, and those are very, very long days. I hide in my office a lot and try to stay out of her way.” I laugh as I tell him this, like it’s a joke, but it’s also not. Brenda and I have worked together for three years now, and she still unnerves me as much as she did the first day she walked into the media center like she owned the place. My name may be on the sign by the door, but she staked her claim immediately and made sure everyone knew it.
Nikko giggles. I’ve not heard this version of his laugh yet, and I love it. “Scary assistant?”
“Yes. She’s honestly kind of terrifying.” I’m about to tell him more when Noel decides she’s unhappy with how her afternoon is progressing and starts to bark in my general direction. I turn to glare at her, snapping my fingers to point her toward her bed. “ Shhh !”
When I look back at the screen, Nikko’s face is practically smooshed up against it and once again, I am not prepared for this virtual proximity.
“Is that a dog ?” he exclaims. “Do you have a dog and did not tell me?”
It shocks me to realize that Noel has never made her presence known before now, and that I somehow haven’t mentioned her. Although, to be fair, many of our sessions have been well outside of her standard hours of operation and she was not technically awake enough to dog properly.
“I do indeed have a dog.” I lean over to pick Noel up—she’s already doing half the work, stretching up toward me and demanding my attention—and arrange her in my arms so she’s visible to the camera.
The moment her furry little face appears, Nikko legitimately squeals with excitement, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen or heard anything cuter. Except perhaps Noel when she yawns.
Her attention is drawn to the giddy sound he’s making, and she gives him a little yip, squirming toward my laptop, tongue out like she’s going to give him a long-distance lick. I don’t want to admit it, but my initial thought was, ‘ me first. ’
Nikko is cooing at her in Korean, telling her how pretty she is, and I realize I’m losing the war I was half-heartedly attempting to fight in convincing myself I wasn’t into him. If I’m being completely honest, I’d probably lost already and was just hoping I might come to my senses about all the reasons that this situation is impossible and ill-advised. I’m technically his tutor. He’s halfway across the world. He’s young. I barely know him.
But he’s got his hand out toward on-screen Noel, like if he reaches far enough he’ll be able to pet her, and he just looks delighted—eyes bright, smile so warm and genuine it kind of makes my heart ache. And Noel is full-on slurping at my laptop, her tongue leaving a trail across the glass as she tries to get to him. They’re clearly crazy about each other.
How am I supposed to resist that?
???
I grab a beer from the fridge and pop the top as I walk over to the table. It just feels right to have a drink every now and then when I talk to Kija—even if it’s not our preferred brand. Beer contributed significantly to our early friendship, and there’s just something nostalgic about sipping on one when we get to have a chat. Every once in a while we’ll do a video call, just because it’s nice to actually look at the person you’re talking to.
At least, I think so. Kija teases me sometimes that he sees me more than he sees his mother, thanks to my inclination toward using virtual video options. I haven’t been in the same room with Kija in almost five years. If it hadn’t been for him making a trip to the U.S.—and me managing to meet up with him in Miami for a weekend—it would have been even longer since we’d spent time together in South Korea.
So yeah, sometimes I like to take advantage of the options we have for communications these days and be able to look my ridiculously handsome best friend in the face as he tells me about the latest k-drama starlet that hit on him. Which happens more often than might seem statistically probable, but I guess it makes sense with the circles he moves in and all the connections he has in the entertainment industry.
I have no problem slouching down in my chair in my old-ass t-shirt as our call connects. I feel much more relaxed chatting with him than I do, say, Nikko. Who makes me want to sit up straight and make sure my hair isn’t crazy.
I’m taking a long drink from my beer when Kija appears and immediately chuckles, raising his own bottle in a toast before he knocks some of it back. I don’t mention that it’s kind of early in the day for him to imbibe, knowing he’d just start teasing me about all the times we had soju and cold noodles for breakfast, standing at the counter of his tiny apartment in Sinchon.
“Starting your weekend right, I see,” he teases. “Life rough in the library these days?”
Shrugging, I say, “Nah. It’s not so bad. Brenda even brought in muffins that she baked yesterday and left one on my desk. I mean, she scowled at me when I tried to tell her thank you, but it seemed like a breakthrough somehow?”
Kija laughs, his shoulders shaking. I’ve always felt like his laugh didn’t quite match the rest of him, the way he lets loose so easily seeming out of place with his very serious business demeanor most of the time. “What kind of muffins were they?”
“Lemon poppy seed.”
He actually guffaws, a sound so hilarious it makes me snort in response. “Poppy seed? You ate a poppy seed muffin from that old witch? She’s probably trying to get you drug tested so you won’t pass and will get fired so she can take over.”
Even as my eyes go wide at this frighteningly likely scenario that I had somehow not considered, I appreciate the way he pays attention to what I say. He keeps up with my life and the people in it, remembering details that always impress me. His job and his day-to-day are so much more exciting than anything I will ever have going on, but he’s still invested in what I’m doing and who is around while I’m doing it.
“Damn. Now I’m going to be all paranoid!” I joke, but also, kind of not. “I guess it’s a good thing I’ve got a side hustle, huh?”
“How’s that going? With Nikko?” Kija asks, looking a little despondently at his beer as he notices it’s empty already. “You think it’s good? He said he thinks it’s been going well.”
I’m not even surprised at the way my whole body reacts to hearing his name. As much as I enjoy talking to Kija in general, I’m suddenly more invested in the conversation and very curious about what Nikko has said. I sit up and try to clear my throat in a completely nonchalant sort of way. “Yeah, I think it’s good. I feel like he’s making a lot of progress really quickly. He’s definitely more confident than he was when we started and second-guesses himself less, which makes me happy.”
Kija smiles. “You’re a gifted teacher. Of course your students will do well.”
I want to know what else Nikko may have mentioned about me. Feeling a little like an over-eager middle school girl trying to get the latest gossip on a crush, I try to prompt him to tell me more. “So he’s pleased then?”
“Yeah. We didn’t talk much more about it than just me checking up on him. You know, making sure I’d made a good recommendation.” He gets up from what appears to be a stool at the counter in his kitchen and moves out of frame, coming back with another bottle. “But I knew you were the right guy. For the job.”
“I appreciate your faith in me,” I tell him. I do. I always have. “Thank you again for hooking me up. I just wish this gig came with better hours.”
He chuckles a little. “Yes, the time zones can be a bit of a challenge. I know I never get used to it when we travel. I’m glad I don’t have to do that as often any more. I’m getting too old for that shit now.”
“Hey. Don’t be like that. We’re not old yet.” Kija only has 11 months on me, with not quite a year separating us. I refuse to entertain the idea that we aren’t as young as we used to be. Even though I know neither of us could keep up with the kind of lifestyle we were living when we were spending time together in person. “Although, I feel it some days. I don’t think I’ve gotten a full night’s sleep since I started working with Nikko and it definitely catches up with me.”
Kija cocks an eyebrow. “I’m guessing you don’t mean that the way it sounded.”
“Oh, god, no!” I mean, also, yeah, even if I’m not waking up to have a session with Nikko, there’s a good chance I’ve been thinking about him, but Kija doesn’t need to know that. “I just meant his schedule is crazy for some reason and we keep having to change the times we talk.”
He’s giving me a look that I don’t quite understand, but now I just feel awkward about everything, so it’s time to change the subject. I blurt out the first thing I can think of. “ So , have you heard anything more about Dae-Ho’s wedding plans?”