Pressing my forehead against the cold stall door, I suck in deep breaths through my mouth. Heat still courses through me, and my body aches to feel Jason’s arms wrapped around me again. What is wrong with me?
My trembling fingers fumble with the latch on the door, and I exit to find a line of girls scowling at me. The first in the line pushes past me and slams the stall door closed, the sound jarring all the way down my spine.
I check myself in the mirror and see my cheeks flamed with a deep blush. Too emotionally spent to care, I go back out to the main room. I find Sophie, Tae Hwa, and Yoon Jae congregating at the bar, and I make my way toward them.
“Where’s Jason?” I ask, forcing my voice to remain level.
“He’s not with you?” Sophie asks. “I thought I saw you guys dancing. I’m proud of you for getting him out of his comfort zone.”
“I don’t think I succeeded. He’s not one to let loose, if you know what I mean.” I add a trite little laugh in the hopes that they can’t see my face burning even hotter.
The others agree, then drop the subject, although Jason is the only topic filling my head. They go dance again, but I can’t muster the energy or motivation to join them. I search the room for Jason, now a little worried that he’s passed out somewhere. Maybe he’s puking his guts out in the bathroom, though I didn’t think he was that drunk. Yet. Also, I feel sure there’d be camera flashes tipping us off if something that exciting happened.
I pull out my phone and check to see if Momma responded to my email. Nope. But I have one from Jane:
gracie: i looked up the sexy korean you told me about and OMG I WANT! please bring him home in your suitcase. or else. but the singer is cute, too! have you met him? you can have that one, but I call dibs on the drummer.
love, your stuck-in-america little sis.
p.s. you better write me! that one measly email with the james bond, “from south korea, love you” or whatever thing at the end (how lame is that, btw)? not enough. send me deets about the smokin’ hot koreans ASAP!
p.p.s. did you see that new article on e? totes lame.
I laugh so hard, I snort. So like Jane. I can hear her voice in my head, reading the words in that matter-of-fact tone she always uses. If I don’t bring Yoon Jae back to her, she might disown me. She’ll threaten to, anyway.
But when I click on the link she added at the bottom of her message, my stomach clenches. My face in JPEG form stares back at me, beneath the headline, “Where is Grace Wilde, and why isn’t she with family during this hard time?”
I don’t bother reading the article. I don’t have to. I know what it says, what it’s saying I did—abandon my family when they need me the most.
Sophie and the others party on, but I’ve lost the energy to dance or do anything besides linger at the bar and sip my soda, surfing the Internet on my phone, Googling my name and letting each new article about Dad or Nathan slam into me like a bus.
No one asks me to dance, and I can’t decide if I’m more relieved or irritated to finally be just a girl instead of Nathan Cross’s sister or Stephen Wilde’s daughter. I left home to get away from people recognizing my face, away from reporters like the ones talking about me online, but now that I’ve finally got that anonymity, I don’t know what to think of it.
Ten o’clock, and I still haven’t seen Jason since I abandoned him on the dance floor. Anxiety grows inside my chest, but I push it back down. He’s fine. And who am I to be worried, anyway?
Around ten thirty, Sophie drapes her arm around my shoulders and says through pants, “Are you ready to go? Tae Hwa said he has a surprise for us back at the dorms.”
I’m not sure how many more surprises I can handle after my interaction with Jason, but I force a smile and a nod.
Sophie’s gaze sweeps the bar. “Where’s Jason?”
“I haven’t seen him in over an hour,” I answer.
Her face pales, then she says something to Tae Hwa, who disappears into the crowd. Sophie pulls out her phone and presses it to her ear like she’ll be able to hear anything in here. She groans, still searching the room, and calls again.
“Shouldn’t have left him alone,” she says. “So stupid.”
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
She throws her phone back into her purse with unnecessary force. “I’m an idiot, that’s what’s wrong.”
I open my mouth to ask her to clarify, but I spot Tae Hwa making his way through the crowd, half carrying someone at his side. My stomach drops when I recognize Jason, arm tossed across his friend’s shoulders and head slumped forward.
Sophie rushes to him, taking her brother’s face in her hands and letting out a stream of frantic Korean at him. He peers up at her with glazed-over eyes, and she frets over him even more.
“We need to get him back,” she says, throwing bills onto the bar to pay for our drinks. “Come on.”
She leads us out back where no one will see us, Tae Hwa hauling Jason a few steps behind us. When we step out onto the sidewalk, I can hear Jason muttering under his breath, though I’m not sure if it’s Korean or just unintelligible English. He stumbles over a crack in the pavement, nearly sending both him and Tae Hwa to the ground.
Yoon Jae makes to support his inebriated bandmate on the other side, but Jason shoves him away.
“Get off me!” He staggers free of Tae Hwa, running a hand through his hair and swaying like he might lose his balance.