Read Online Hello, I Love You by Katie M. Stout - Free Book Online
Authors: Katie M. Stout
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said no.”
“You’re shooting a music video?”
My mind spirals back to watching from behind the camera crew as Nathan and his band shot their videos. I doubt Eden’s video will have any big trucks, girls in cowboy hats, or beer kegs, however.
He jerks his chin down in a nod.
“Well, that will be fun!”
His lips twist into a smirk. “Says the girl who thinks we’re just a group of pretty faces instead of musicians.”
My cheeks burn, but I hold his gaze. I swallow the sarcastic retort that bubbles on my lips. Sophie would want me to be nice to him. Hold in the snark, Grace.
“I’m sorry about that,” I say, the humility burning my throat like acid. “It was rude, and I shouldn’t have said it.”
He tilts his head back and peers up at the sky, the stars dimmed by the lights of the buildings below us. “No, you were right.”
“What?” I gape at him.
“Our music,” he clarifies, emotionless. “It’s terrible.”
Yoon Jae breaks through the crowd, bumping into me in his hurry. His cheeks pink and sweat trickling down his temples, he grins at us.
“Sorry,” he says. “It looked like fun.”
“No!” I try to shake off the stupor Jason’s words threw me into and focus my attention on the cute boy who actually might enjoy my company. “You were great out there, and I’m sure all the fans loved it.”
His face gets redder. “Thanks.”
Jason takes off down the sidewalk without another word, over to where Sophie and Tae Hwa linger near their dorm. Yoon Jae and I hurry to catch up with him.
“We decided to watch a movie in Tae Hwa’s room,” Sophie says when we reach them. “Do you want to join us?”
I’m exhausted after that walk, but I don’t have many friends here. Playing nice with the ones I do have is probably a good idea.
“Sure,” I say.
Tae Hwa lets us into their building with his student ID, and we climb five flights of stairs— five! —to his room.
His room is just as small as mine and Sophie’s, but he has a TV, DVD player, and gaming system sitting on his desk. A guitar and a bass have taken residence in the only empty corner of the room, sitting up in their stands.
Sophie climbs onto the top bunk, but I hesitate. Tae Hwa isn’t a childhood friend like he is for Sophie. Am I allowed to sit on his bed? Or would that be weird? I wouldn’t even think twice about it at home, but I’m not sure of the customs here.
Yoon Jae checks his watch, then says, “I need to work on a paper that’s due on Monday. I haven’t started yet.” His eyes search out mine, like he’s apologizing to me personally for having to ditch out on the movie.
“See you tomorrow!” Sophie calls from above us.
He flashes her a smile, then catches my gaze again. Not sure what he’s waiting for, I wave. He lingers a moment longer, then turns and leaves.
Tae Hwa pops a movie into the player, then launches himself onto the top bunk with Sophie. Okay, seriously, what is going on between them? Jason crawls onto the bottom bunk, but I’m not about to cozy up with him, so I take a seat on the desk chair of Tae Hwa’s roommate.
The movie pops up on the screen, and I realize within thirty seconds that I’m not going to understand a word of it. The actors speak in some Asian language, and subtitles appear at the bottom of the screen in another Asian language.
“Is this a Chinese movie or something?” I ask.
“Japanese,” Sophie calls down, then cries, “Oh! You don’t understand anything! Do you want us to switch the subtitles to English?”
“No, it’s fine. I’ll just watch what’s going on.”
But after ten minutes of only guessing the plot, my attention wanders. Tae Hwa’s roommate has books stacked on his desk—Algebra II, Biology, a dual-translation Bible. On the top shelf of his desk sits a long row of albums, some Korean and some English, most of the spines too dilapidated to read. But I recognize a few—the Beatles’ Rubber Soul, The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan, the
“You’re shooting a music video?”
My mind spirals back to watching from behind the camera crew as Nathan and his band shot their videos. I doubt Eden’s video will have any big trucks, girls in cowboy hats, or beer kegs, however.
He jerks his chin down in a nod.
“Well, that will be fun!”
His lips twist into a smirk. “Says the girl who thinks we’re just a group of pretty faces instead of musicians.”
My cheeks burn, but I hold his gaze. I swallow the sarcastic retort that bubbles on my lips. Sophie would want me to be nice to him. Hold in the snark, Grace.
“I’m sorry about that,” I say, the humility burning my throat like acid. “It was rude, and I shouldn’t have said it.”
He tilts his head back and peers up at the sky, the stars dimmed by the lights of the buildings below us. “No, you were right.”
“What?” I gape at him.
“Our music,” he clarifies, emotionless. “It’s terrible.”
Yoon Jae breaks through the crowd, bumping into me in his hurry. His cheeks pink and sweat trickling down his temples, he grins at us.
“Sorry,” he says. “It looked like fun.”
“No!” I try to shake off the stupor Jason’s words threw me into and focus my attention on the cute boy who actually might enjoy my company. “You were great out there, and I’m sure all the fans loved it.”
His face gets redder. “Thanks.”
Jason takes off down the sidewalk without another word, over to where Sophie and Tae Hwa linger near their dorm. Yoon Jae and I hurry to catch up with him.
“We decided to watch a movie in Tae Hwa’s room,” Sophie says when we reach them. “Do you want to join us?”
I’m exhausted after that walk, but I don’t have many friends here. Playing nice with the ones I do have is probably a good idea.
“Sure,” I say.
Tae Hwa lets us into their building with his student ID, and we climb five flights of stairs— five! —to his room.
His room is just as small as mine and Sophie’s, but he has a TV, DVD player, and gaming system sitting on his desk. A guitar and a bass have taken residence in the only empty corner of the room, sitting up in their stands.
Sophie climbs onto the top bunk, but I hesitate. Tae Hwa isn’t a childhood friend like he is for Sophie. Am I allowed to sit on his bed? Or would that be weird? I wouldn’t even think twice about it at home, but I’m not sure of the customs here.
Yoon Jae checks his watch, then says, “I need to work on a paper that’s due on Monday. I haven’t started yet.” His eyes search out mine, like he’s apologizing to me personally for having to ditch out on the movie.
“See you tomorrow!” Sophie calls from above us.
He flashes her a smile, then catches my gaze again. Not sure what he’s waiting for, I wave. He lingers a moment longer, then turns and leaves.
Tae Hwa pops a movie into the player, then launches himself onto the top bunk with Sophie. Okay, seriously, what is going on between them? Jason crawls onto the bottom bunk, but I’m not about to cozy up with him, so I take a seat on the desk chair of Tae Hwa’s roommate.
The movie pops up on the screen, and I realize within thirty seconds that I’m not going to understand a word of it. The actors speak in some Asian language, and subtitles appear at the bottom of the screen in another Asian language.
“Is this a Chinese movie or something?” I ask.
“Japanese,” Sophie calls down, then cries, “Oh! You don’t understand anything! Do you want us to switch the subtitles to English?”
“No, it’s fine. I’ll just watch what’s going on.”
But after ten minutes of only guessing the plot, my attention wanders. Tae Hwa’s roommate has books stacked on his desk—Algebra II, Biology, a dual-translation Bible. On the top shelf of his desk sits a long row of albums, some Korean and some English, most of the spines too dilapidated to read. But I recognize a few—the Beatles’ Rubber Soul, The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan, the
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