| |
I lean against the wall, hoping to support myself. The sound of rain highlights how quiet it is, but I have nothing to say. “Rain, eh?” isn’t exactly a stunning conversation starter.
“I—”
“You—”
We say at the same time.
I stay quiet so he can talk, but he stays quiet too, leaving nothing but weight between us.
My good leg aches so I try to shift positions, but I end up putting weight on my sprain. I wince as I draw in a breath through my teeth.
The guy reaches out a hand, but seems to remember to keep his distance.
“Are you okay?” he asks, keeping firmly to his space.
“Yeah,” I say, even though it’s not true. “I just slipped a little in the rain.” Since I’m pretty sure this guy’s not going to kill me, I decide to sit again.
“You...” he starts, pausing as if to gather his words. “You don’t know who I am, do you?”
I look in his eyes and feel myself getting warm again. “No,” I say. Because I don’t.
He sighs, and it looks like he’s relaxing for the first time since he came into my tower. “That’s good,” he answers with a nod.
I nod with him, even though I don’t know what I’m nodding about.
He sits cross-legged, facing me. I can tell he wants to ask me something more, so I stay quiet.
“You really don’t recognize my face?” he asks again. “Even a little?”
This is getting weird now. “No. I don’t. But I’m not Chinese.” I don’t know why I felt the need to add that part, but it seems relevant.
“I mean,” I correct. “I am Chinese. But I’m from America. I’ve only been here for three days now.” Why am I still talking? Shut your mouth, Jenica.
He smiles, his eyes turning to half-moons. “That makes sense, then.” He says this in English, and his English is way better than his Mandarin.
“I grew up in Hong Kong mostly speaking English, but I took Mandarin classes while living there, too,” he explains when he sees my face.
I smile back, feeling like a total idiot. I shouldn’t have made the assumption.
“In that case,” the guy continues, extending a hand. “I’m Woon.”
Woon? Doesn’t sound like a Chinese name. I wonder if he has another ethnicity in him. Korean, maybe?
“Jenica,” I respond, hesitantly taking his hand and shaking. It’s warm, and my fingers are freezing.
He points to my foot. “Do you mind if I take a look at your ankle?”
I’m a little weirded out, but I’m also worried I won’t make it back to the buses in this condition. “Um,” I say, not ready to give in. “Are you a doctor?”
“Hardly,” Woon says. “But there’s a lot of ankle injuries in my profession.”
What kind of profession? “So you’re an athlete?” I guess.
He looks at the light playing across the ceiling as he contemplates. “Sort of.”
I stare at the ceiling too. We’re alone, and he hasn’t done anything but be kind. Not only is my ankle hurting, but my knee and elbow have taken a beating, too. I still have to get home at some point. If I’m going to do that, I need his help.
“Go ahead,” I say like I don’t care, even though I do.
He shuffles closer to me, hands hovering over my injury. “Let me know if it hurts.”
I suck in a breath, readying myself for the pain.
“Don’t worry,” he says. “I’ll be gentle.”
There’s talking, and there’s doing. I’ll reserve my judgement until he proves it.
His touch is so soft my shoulders ease away from my ears, body relaxing. He nudges at my sock, pulling it down to expose the skin.
“Still okay?” he asks when my ankle is totally bare.
It’s just my foot, but I feel a tad naked. “Yeah.” My voice comes out all wobbly.
His fingers prod at the flesh near the bone. “No discomfort?”
“It’s a little sore, but not unbearable,” I answer, barely managing to keep my tone level.
“Now,” he says, raising his head so we make eye contact. “I’m going to move your foot. Let me know if it hurts. I don’t want to push it.”
Is this a bad time for me to notice he’s beautiful? Because he is. Truly.
He eases my toes toward me, and I cringe but don’t cry out. He takes his time moving my foot forward and back, side to side. I can handle the ache, even if it still hurts.
“Good news,” he says. “Nothing is broken, but you’ll still want to rest your foot today.”
I nod, but can’t seem to find the right words. I’m so awkward around guys. My only boyfriend didn’t ask me out for months because he thought I hated him. It wasn’t until I started opening up that he finally had the courage to tell me how he felt. Neither of us knew how to communicate, which left the relationship doomed.
Basically, I’m going to be single forever.
“That rain was really someth—” Blain interjects as she walks in.
I’ve been so lost in Woon’s eyes, I didn’t notice the rain stopping.
“Hello,” Blain says to Woon, narrowing her gaze at him.
Crap. She’s about to get territorial. I have to jump in before she yells at him for touching me. Because ankles are so sexy.
“Blain,” I say, giving her my stop-before-you-embarrass-me voice. “This is Woon. I hurt myself running in here, and he was helping.”
Blain doesn’t uncross her arms or lower her chin. This is going to take real damage control.
Woon slowly lets go of my foot and backs to his side of the tower. He gives Blain a quick bow, saying hello in Chinese and English.
“I should go,” he says. “It was nice to meet you, Jenica.”
Already? But I was just about to get over my shyness. “Likewise,” I respond, bumbling the word.
He points behind Blain, who’s still standing in the entryway. “I’m going that way.”
After all the rain, he’s still hiking on? Why?
Blain moves to let him by, keeping silent. Her expression has softened a bit, but she won’t stop staring at Woon.
“Could you help me up?” I ask Blain, not wanting to put too much weight on my foot.
“Yeah,” she says, still watching Woon.
After I gather my stuff, she puts my arm around her neck. We stand together, and I lean on her as we hobble out of the tower.
Blain’s so much taller than me I know she must be hurting, but she doesn’t complain. I don’t complain either, even though it’s awkward and every bit of weight shoots pain up my leg. At our current pace it’ll take us three times as long to get back. I hope it doesn’t rain again.
“We can rest,” I say when we get to the next tower.
Both of us are panting. This isn’t going to work. I’ll have to try and walk on my own through the pain. It might make it worse, but we’re low on options.
Blain pulls out her water bottle and sips while we catch our breath. I take a drink, too, hoping what I have left will survive the rest of the hike.
“That guy,” Blain says after a moment of silence. “He looks familiar.”
“Does he?” I ask, remembering the way she watched him leave.
“Yeah.” Blain tucks her water bottle in her backpack. “I know I’ve seen him somewhere before.”
Huh. That’s weird because I swear I would recognize him if I saw him again.
Blain turns her head to glace at the way we came. “Speak of the devil and the devil shall appear.”
I furrow my brow. “What?”
“That dude who helped you is running back here.”
My cheeks warm. “You better not be messing with me, Blain. He just left.”
Blain shakes her head. “I wish I was. Take a look for yourself.”
I lean around her, and sure enough, Woon is headed full speed in our direction. Weird.
“Excuse me,” I say, pushing past Blain to the outside.
Woon slows his pace when he sees me. He also smiles. Why does that make my stomach spin?
“Woon?” My voice is a pitch too high, and I know it.
He stops right outside my personal bubble. A little too far away.
“You shouldn’t be putting weight on that,” he says, pointing to my ankle.
I laugh. Where did he come from?
“I know,” I say, because I’m smooth like that.
If I were to speak my mind, I’d ask him why he came back to me. Luckily, my filter is working well enough for me to know I’m not the center of the universe. Maybe he just went the wrong direction and he was running because he had to double back.
“I mean,” I correct, trying to get my bearings. “Blain has been helping me, but it’s slow going.”
“That’s okay,” he says. “If you’d gone faster, I’m not sure I’d have been able to catch up to you.”
So he was coming back for me. I hope the red in my cheeks isn’t showing, even though my face is on fire.
“Well,” I respond with my usual flare. “You found me.”
He smiles, looking at the ground, and then back up at me. “Yes, I did.”
I’m pretty sure heart rates drop when resting, so I don’t know why mine is suddenly kicking into overdrive.
“I was thinking,” he continues, rubbing the back of his neck. “You could help me.”
My teeth snap together to hold in my immediate reply of, “Anything!” Instead, I let my sensible side rule by taking a second to think. I place my hand on the side of the tower entrance so I can put less weight on my foot. “What do you need help with?”
He meets my gaze, clear brown eyes bright. “It might take me all day to get where I’m going. Which is fine, but it could be faster if I call someone. That’s when I remembered you have a phone. Do you mind?”
My chest tightens as my heartbeat slows. My phone. Of course. All he needed me for was my phone. He had no other reason to return, and I was stupid enough to entertain the fantasy for one brief second. This is why I never let impulsive Jenica out of her room.
“Of course,” I say, shaking my head as I reach into my bag.
I hope my outside doesn’t look how my inside feels, because my inside feels like it’s weeping.
My phone is conservative like me. It’s a smartphone, but an older model. I have a simple black case and an unassuming background. Unlike Blain’s, which is glittery and loud.
I swipe it open, and halfway through punching in my code the phone goes dark. I forgot how quickly the flashlight drains the battery.
“Crap,” I say, trying to punch it back to life. “Blain, let me see your phone.”
My hand is behind me waiting for her to put it in my palm. When nothing happens, my gaze travels to her face. She’s pouting.
“What?” I ask, afraid of the answer.
Blain pulls her arms to her chest and turns sideways like she’s scared I’m going to hit her. “I left my phone at the dorm.”
So typical of Blain. I don’t even know why her parents bought her such an expensive one. She always forgets it.
“I’m sorry,” I say to Woon.
He won’t look at me, and it’s making me feel small. I should be used to it since I’m only five-four, but it stings.
“It’s okay,” he says, but his actions say otherwise.
I can’t believe I’m about to tell him this, but I hate that he’s hurt. “If you really need a phone, you can come back with us and we’ll get you one.”
“No,” he says while shaking his head. “It’s too risky.”
Risky? The way he says that word makes me think he’s in trouble. Maybe it’s better if we part ways. I’d rather not rock the boat.
I point behind me even though he’s not looking in my direction. “Blain and I really need to get back, so...”
“Yeah,” he says, nodding his head. “Don’t let me keep you.”
That’s it then. There’s nothing more to say.
I try to turn around, but it proves difficult with one foot. Habit kicks in and I put my injured ankle into normal walking position. I’m not ready for the pain, and I end up over-correcting my balance, which throws me backward rather than keeping me upright.
I’m going to fall and I have no idea how to stop it. My arms circle the air like I’m trying to fly, but I’m obviously not built for aerodynamics. I can just picture my face turning into a #fail gif meme.
Before my head can hit the bricks, arms surround my waist, my back pressing into muscle behind me. I turn my head to see Woon’s face right next to mine, a hint of dimple on his cheek.
I can feel everything. The definition in his chest, the grip of his arms around me, his breath on my skin. He smells like rice, honey, and spices. It reminds me of home.
There’s always a moment when eye contact goes from nice to awkward, and the second I hit that limit I look away. Rationality dictates that Woon should let go of me. He needs to get to wherever, and I have to go back to the dorms on a bad foot.
The only things I know about him is that he can make a lamp from simple things, and he’s in shape. Must come with his athletic career, whatever that may be.
Rationality, however, seems to be something Woon isn’t aware of. He slides his hands across my stomach, and I suck in as goosebumps tickle from the point of contact up my body. His fingers grip my hips as he slips his head under my arm. Hope I don’t stink.
“You need to stop trying to walk on that foot,” he says, laughter in his eyes.
The only thing going on in my head is brain static. I’ve been completely paralyzed by Woon. I pride myself on my smarts, but right now I don’t know how to speak. For once, I’m glad my day isn’t going according to plan.
