I finished my cereal in one continuous gulp and sprinted to wash out the bowl. Charlie had been watching me nervously the whole time. I thought he was afraid I'd choke, but he was still eyeing me when he joined me at the sink. We rinsed our dishes in silence for a moment.

"Me and the guys from the station are going fishing on Saturday," he said, staring into the soapy water. "I just wanted to ask if you changed your mind about Seattle. I could come with you."

"No," I replied casually. "I'm all good. Thanks, though."

"Minho," he said, putting the plate down and facing me. I stared at him, waiting tensely.

"There are rumours about you going around town. About, um, who you" — he grimaced — "like. I just want to say that I, uh, love you."

"Oh. Okay." I couldn't tell if he meant my non-relationship with Jisung or my sexuality in general. Either way, my eyes started to prickle and my cheeks turned red. I shook my hair into my face. "I love you, too."

More wordless scrubbing.

"Am I going to meet him?" he asked then.

"Who?" I said innocently.

"Your... boy... friend? Boyfriend? Is that right?"

I smiled a little. "It would be. But I don't have one."

"Do you... have your eye on anyone?"

"Um."

"You don't have to say," he said quickly. "But you're still skipping the dance?"

"Yup. Dances suck — a date wouldn't change that."

"So you don't have a date?"

I looked up at him. "I have a something, but I don't think he's a date. It's complicated."

"I'm, um, here to, uh, talk, if you, er, need..."

I smiled. "I know. But I'm never bringing this up again."

"Thank god," he said. I laughed. We finished the dishes together.

~ * ~

As soon as Charlie was out of the house, I zoomed upstairs and brushed my teeth. I ran a comb through my hair — finding an adamant tangle and Brute Forcing my way through it — and glared at myself in the mirror. I catapulted myself off the top of the staircase, scrambling to the window. The silver Volvo was there. I grabbed my backpack and ran to the door.

I crossed the lawn with more composure today, even taking a moment to adjust my shoe.

I opened the passenger door and sunk into the seat, looking at Jisung as soon as I possibly could. He only smiled once our eyes met.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," I said back. We both sounded high.

"Guess what happened," I said.

He backed out of the driveway. "What happened?"

"I came out to my dad."

"That's awesome!" he yelled. He held up his hand for an awkward sideways high five.

I smacked his hand as hard as I could. He didn't flinch.

"How did it happen?"

"Apparently, there are rumours going around about me." There was a bit of pride in my voice.

He nodded. "I've heard those."

"You what?"

"'Chief Swan's kid is gay' — that kind of thing."

"Well, Charlie heard one of them." I smiled, but controlled it quickly. "Are you a part of the rumours?"

"Some. Those are localized at school."

I smiled and didn't try to control it. "Charlie didn't seem to know about you, but he was asking if I had a boyfriend."

"What did you tell him?" His voice was irritatingly impartial.

"I said I had a, 'something, but I don't think he's a date.' Happy?"

"Maybe. Did you tell him about Seattle?"

"No, not yet."

"You have to at some point, I'm begging you."

"We'll see what happens."

"Or you could just do it."

"Or I could just not."

"Minho," he said. It was supposed to be a warning, but I swooned at the way my name sounded when he said it.

"Look, I'll think about it," I said. "I need to think it through."

"Fine," he murmured, pulling into the parking lot at school. Then he smiled over at me. "I'm glad you finally understand Port Angeles wasn't a date."

"No, I said YOU weren't a date." I got out of the car. He did as well, and we faced each other over the roof. "I'm still pretty sure that was a date."

"You're incorrigible."

"You're in denial."

He narrowed his eyes deliberately, meeting me at the hood of his car. We set off walking across campus.

"We're gonna start dating at some point, you know," I poked.

"We will not."

"Here's why I think we will."

"Don't list."

"I'm gonna list."

He sighed.

"One, you said you think about me all night, every night. That leads me to believe you like me."

He blushed noticeably.

"Two, you said I was cute."

"You are cute, anyone can see that."

"Literally nobody's ever called me cute before — not even my mother."

He grimaced.

"Three, you watch me sleep at night."

"You asked me to do that."

"And you were very willing from the get-go."

He pressed his lips together.

"Four, we apparently hang out every day now."

"You coerced me into that as well!"

"Then stop following me around!"

His nose wrinkled in either direction. "No."

I smiled. "Should I continue?"

He met my eyes. "That all happened," he allowed, "but we are not dating — nor will we date in the future."

The bell rang.

"We're continuing this later." I pointed at him, and then myself, and then him again.

He just nodded, smiling like he was annoyed and having fun at the same time.

I turned away, walked into class and sat down in my seat — watching the clock. The hour resembled the consistency of sludge. I held my face up by my fist, staring into space.

He met me outside of English, and I jumped right into it.

"So we aren't dating and never will, but you said I'm cute and think about me all the time."

"Can't we spend time together without putting labels on it?" His neck shrank into his shoulders.

"But I want to put labels on it," I huffed, looking down.

"I want to hang out with you. I don't know if I can call it dating."

"So you want to do all the dating stuff without calling it dating."

"I want to leave your options open."

I laughed loudly. "That's insane."

I realized he'd stopped, and I backed up to meet him.

"I... want to be your friend," he said.

"I honestly don't think that's true," I replied.

He fidgeted. "It's not true. I want more, but it's not that simple."

It took a second to respond. I was still stuck on the 'more.' It was unbelievable to hear him say it.

"Is it vampire-related?" I whispered.

"Isn't everything?" He almost smiled. "I can't get close to humans without putting them in danger. It could cause problems for my family as well. I've already broken so many rules by telling you about me — about what I am."

I was hoping his reasons would be less valid. I couldn't find something to say, and then I noticed we were outside of my Spanish class.

"See you soon," I said, but it sounded like a threat.

He nodded, and we parted ways. I dropped down in my seat, starting to feel anxious. It was only hitting me now that the person I was in love with was flat-out saying we couldn't be together. I should have kept my mouth shut earlier — let myself live in blissful ignorance. I watched the clock again, squinting like it would make the hands move goddamn faster.

He met me outside of class. I didn't know what to say at first — it felt too real to tease him about now. He didn't speak, either. He stared at the floor and fiddled with his backpack strap.

We made it to Trigonometry in silence. I looked at him, my mouth falling open wordlessly.

"I'm so sorry for leading you on, Minho," he said. "You make me happy, and I wasn't thinking about anything but that fact. I was being selfish. I'm really sorry."

I blinked at him.

"Lee," Mr. Varner called from inside the classroom. I looked at him, and then back at Jisung.

"Lunch?"

"Of course," he said, shaking a bit, not smiling.

I turned and walked away. I stewed in my thoughts, in the hopelessness creeping up on me from every angle, clouding my brain. When the lunch bell rang, I sprinted out of the room before Mr. Varner or Jessica or anyone else could even think to talk to me.

We almost crashed into each other. As I screeched to a halt, he jumped back like a cat. I didn't know who started smiling first, but there we were, smiling. He headed for the cafeteria, and I followed. We didn't speak until we were at our table. I skipped the 'eating' part of lunch — I was too wound up.

"Jisung," I started, but when I looked at him, my words left me again. I looked down. "Jisung, can we... be together?" I wished I didn't sound cheesy and lame when I asked that. I wished we weren't somewhere as mundane as the cafeteria. I wished I didn't know what his answer was going to be, and how broken it was sure to leave me.

When I looked up, his fists were clasped tightly together, and his face was torn. His eyes were darting around — to my face and away again in the shortest milliseconds. He didn't answer. He held his face in his hands, becoming small.

I stared at him like that for all of lunch. I suppose I could have done something — yelled at him or pleaded with him or thrown my shoe at him — but I felt like I was glued to my seat. When the bell rang, and the other students started to leave, we stayed.

I saw his shoulders twitch, and I couldn't take it anymore.

"Talk to me." My voice came out scratchy. "What are you thinking?"

He looked up at me, resting his hands on the table. "I'm thinking about the repercussions of... letting you in."

"Let me in," I begged, thoughtlessly leaning forward.

"I want to," he murmured. "You have to believe me — it's what I want. More than anything."

"Not more than I want it."

He made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a cry. "No, Minho. Not more than me."

His tone was utterly certain — not an inch of room for doubt. I stared at him until I organized my thoughts.

"I know what I want," I said. "I want you. And I know you want me, too. You figure out your vampire stuff, and I'll wait for you."

He stayed completely still — tensed — examining the table. He seemed to calm down, though he was still twitching faintly. He met my eyes, and smiled. I smiled back.

"All right," he whispered. "And I'm sorry. For everything."

"It's okay," I replied.

"I will think about it — us. What we are."

"Hurry."

He smiled, and then flinched. "Biology."

I'd completely forgotten. I hopped up and gathered my bag, rushing toward the door. He was right by my side.

"Hurry," he teased, smiling and skipping a little.