Somewhere Only We Know(38)

A voice crackled over the speakers as the ferry stopped with a gentle bump. Nausea came up in waves; whether it was from the movement or the look in Lucky’s eyes, I don’t know. I wasn’t prepared for the depth of feeling in them.

“Let’s go,” I said, dropping her wrist. Because I was confused by my own feelings, too. Guilt mixed with, well, being flattered.

We both staggered up and got off the ferry, ending up at a port across the street from giant buildings filled with super-high-end stores. Everything in Kowloon was larger than life.

I walked ahead of her, trying to sort out my thoughts with every brisk step. When we reached the crosswalk, I jabbed at the walk button and felt my head ache with every ring of the crosswalk signal.

What. Ding. Are. Ding. You. Ding. Doing.

Earlier today, I felt like I knew exactly what I was doing. The mission was clear: Get the photos. Get the story.

But now? Now everything was all muddled. I was Lucky’s first kiss. She trusted me enough to do that. She had told me she liked me. The matter-of-fact confession had shocked me, but I had hid the feeling. Self-preservation had kicked in.

I needed to ignore feeling pleased by it. And I had to stay focused. Despite the guilt. I could not fall for this girl.

We crossed the street. I glanced behind me to make sure she was close. She was, keeping her head down, her body turned inward again.

It wasn’t a good feeling. This shaking of my confidence. Feeling like I crossed a line somehow.

“Do you want to know where we’re going?” I asked after a few silent minutes walking past the long lines for Prada, Hermès, Gucci, etc. Lucky shrugged in response to my question.

Today felt like a tug-of-war between me feeling good and feeling like a jerk. And now, after she told me she liked me, after being her first kiss … I knew that I couldn’t keep doing this to her. Celeb undercover or not, she had no idea why I was going hot and cold today.

Story or no, she didn’t deserve it.

“I’m taking you to a movie theater with a bookstore. I think you’ll like it.”

She nodded, concentrating on keeping her face hidden as she dodged the crowds. I reached for her hand and held it tight. Sending reassurance through the firm grip. Even if she didn’t know that I knew why she needed it. Even if it made her like me more. Made me like her more.

The hand-holding relaxed her and she smiled at me. “So that’s where my pointing led us? To a bookstore?”

“It’s special,” I said. “You’ll like it. Old movies are always showing at the theater. It’s all very … romantic.” I muttered the last word.

But Lucky was back to her feisty self. “Pardon? Romantic?”

I laughed, and it felt so right to be holding her hand at that moment. “Yes. Romantic.”

“Well, you do strike me as a romantic guy. Reacting the way you did to me telling you I liked you.” Our hands swung between us.

The crowds started to thin, and the buildings transformed from sleek glass behemoths to older apartments with businesses on the ground floors. Kind of like in Sheung Wan but way bigger. There was a lot of construction going on, bamboo scaffolding encasing entire buildings. Men in jumpsuits teetering on ladders as they worked at impossible heights.

As we walked I thought of what Lucky said on the ferry. That she liked me. There was a Korean word for that sort of confession but I couldn’t remember it.

“Hey, what’s the word in Korean? When you confess your feelings for someone?” I asked.

“Gobaek.” She paused. “Isn’t it interesting that Koreans have a specific word for that? Because we understand that even saying you like someone is meaningful. In America, the moment is sealed by like, sex or some dramatic love confession. But in Korea, ‘I like you.’ That’s a big deal.”

“Wow, you’re being very subtle about this right now,” I said, with a smile, so she knew I wasn’t bothered by it. “I get it, girl. It was important.”

She shoved me with our clasped hands. “Well, is it though? We’re not going to see each other again.”

We both knew this was true from the beginning. But hearing it said out loud … Some invisible clock in my brain started its countdown.

There was still so much to learn about Lucky. How and why did she get into K-pop? I hoped I had enough time to find out.

“You don’t know that we’ll never see each other again,” I said lightly.

She glanced at me as we walked by a store packed floor to ceiling with pots and pans. “We live in different countries.”

“Within the manageable continent of Asia.”

“Are you saying,” she said with a laugh, “that you would visit me in Korea? After one day together?”

I shrugged. “You never know what the future holds!” It was meant to be glib but Lucky’s expression was serious.

“I know my future,” she said in a calm voice, resolute but also resigned.

“Church choir forever?” I teased.

We let go of each other’s hands to step around an old lady sitting on a stool, fanning herself on the sidewalk.

“Something like that.” Lucky reached for my hand again. “When you commit to something like choir, you commit to a life that’s kind of different from everyone else’s.”

She had to know that sounded weird. But it was also vulnerable. So I let my guard down, too. “I hope I get to see you again.”