Hello, I Love You by Katie M. Stout

you a drink. I’m famous, remember? I can do whatever I want.”
    He winks, but I shake my head, anxiety clutching at my gut.
    I force a smile. “No, I’m fine, really.”
    I’ve seen what alcohol can do to a person, and I’m not ready to get in line behind my brother. I order a soda instead.
    Tae Hwa holds up his shot. “Happy birthday, Sophie, Jason!” he shouts.
    The rest of us raise our drinks and shout in unison, “Happy birthday!”
    Sophie and Tae Hwa head to the dance floor, and Sophie grabs onto my wrist, dragging me with them. Yoon Jae follows, but Jason stays rooted at the bar. I glance back over my shoulder to find him already nursing a beer. Alarm bells sound inside my head, but I quiet them. We’re at a club—drinking is what people do here. I’m just being overly sensitive.
    As we meld with the crowd, I get separated from Sophie. A flash of panic rips through me before I spot Yoon Jae pushing through the crowd toward me. He reaches me, and I let my body relax, giving in to the hypnotic power of the music, which zips through my muscles and orders them to move.
    I attempt to match my rhythm with Yoon Jae’s, but it’s obvious his dancing skills far surpass mine. Just watching him brings a smile to my lips. He personifies abandon, completely free from inhibitions and insecurities, and I envy him the release. Girls all around us watch him, and I can’t really blame them—everything about him, from his easy smile and bold hairstyle to the self-assured way he carries himself, oozes potential boyfriend material.
    The crushing heat of bodies sends me seeking refuge at the bar, sucking in deep, smoke-filled breaths. We’ve lost the other stool, but Jason still sits on his. He doesn’t offer it to me.
    “I didn’t know you could dance,” he says as I gulp down my soda.
    “I didn’t know you couldn’t.” I laugh until I see his expression darken and realize it’s true. “Oh, come on. Everyone can dance. You just need to try.”
    He winces. “I don’t think so.”
    Maybe it’s the hint of anonymity the dimness in the club provides. Or maybe it’s my rocking outfit, coupled with the adrenaline rushing through me. But, with a surge of confidence I’ve never experienced before, I grab Jason’s hand and pull him off the barstool.
    “Come on,” I say as I drag him to the mass of swaying and jumping bodies. “It’s your birthday. Have fun.”
    I find a place for us to stand, but he doesn’t dance. With a huff, I grab both his wrists and pump our arms above our heads to loosen him up, like what Nathan would do to cheer me up.
    Nothing better to get rid of the blues than to laugh at yourself, he liked to say.
    But Jason just stands there, chin down and staring at me through his black hair like I’m a child to be patiently placated. I drop his hands, sighing, ready to give up on him as hopeless, when he steps closer and places his hands on my hips.
    I freeze, my eyebrows shooting up into my hairline. He presses his body close, and my heartbeat kicks into overdrive, the skin on my arms prickling. The music slows to a groovier, sexier song, and I wonder if your heart can race so fast it explodes.
    “Yoon Jae shouldn’t be the only one with your attention tonight,” he mumbles into my ear as we begin to sway.
    My nose pressed against his shoulder, I pick up on the reek of alcohol. He’s drunk. Mortification washes over me, and I’m tempted to pull away. But his hand, pressed into my lower back, anchors me, and I can’t breathe.
    This isn’t right. He would never do this sober. I extricate his hand from my back and step away. Desire and hurt swirl in his eyes, a heady mixture, and my throat tightens. It’s not real. Doesn’t mean anything. Not any of it. The alcohol in his system is making him someone he’s not, just like with Nathan.
    I flee the dance floor, ignoring the curious glances from people who were obviously watching us. The lit-up sign indicating the restrooms draws me through