Chapter 44: When sweet karma kicks in

Feeling irritated but left without any choice, I bit my lip. I looked at Evan, who was now leaning on his motorcycle, an extra black helmet in his hand before I mulled over the thought that I would ride on his motorcycle. I fell silent as I stood in front of him, eyes silently sending the thought that I was not too fond of this idea of Kayla. Evan just stared at me, probably wondering what was inside my mind about why I was still staring at him. "Hey," Evan called. "Huh? I responded with my usual tone of having just woken up from a trance. "Let's go." He was still leaning on the motorcycle with one of his legs diagonal on the ground. He looked so cool in that position, I thought. And I had no idea why I even noticed this kind of thing when I should be thinking of surviving on riding Evan's motorcycle. I mused: How does Evan drive his motorcycle? Is he one of those naughty men who drive their vehicle as if it's at full speed, not caring if they would get caught by a police officer? Or is he very obedient when it comes to road policies? Either way, I should've just backed out from this absurd plan Kayla has plotted for me to spend time with Evan. He was wearing only a plain, simple white long sleeve, black leather jacket, and straight denim pants. His clothes were so simple, but it was as if they were perfectly tailored-from the type and color of the cloth and the way the stitches were made by tailors-for Evan's body measurement and no one else. God, how could this man wake up every morning and walk around getting everyone's attention, including mine, and still act chill as if he didn't do anything to a person's mind? Needless to say, whatever clothes Evan wears would look good on him anyway. "Misty?" From the wicked smirk on his face, I could already tell that he was plotting something I wouldn't like. I really shouldn't have agreed to Kayla. I could've opted to commute via bus or taxi, even if it meant that I would need to wait for a few minutes for such vehicles to arrive. Well, I actually didn't agree to this plan, though. Kayla was just very insisting. And one more thing, I didn't expect Evan rides a motorcycle. There were times he would fondly mention his mom to me, and she imposed rules on him. I could always feel his love and respect for his mom by doing so. He said once that his mom doesn't want him doing things that could put him in danger. So, it was so unexpected of him. Hmm, Evan, should I tell your mom how naughty of a son you are? "So, are we buying Kayla's ingredients, or are you just going to stare at me all day?" Evan suddenly asked, making me stand up properly. "Holy sh*t, that looks dangerous!" I exclaimed upon seeing his motorcycle closely. Although I was immediately astounded seeing how extravagant it looked-a black BMW motorcycle of the edition I didn't know-I still felt frightened just with the thought that I'll be riding it. What if I fly away, and Evan wouldn't even notice that I'm not behind him anymore? "It's not. And no, you won't be flying away as long as you hold on to me." Did he just actually read what was in my mind? Or was it that obvious that I was feeling frightened? Either way, I shrugged the thought off to feel calm. "You're really wealthy, aren't you?" Evan chuckled. "Why are you mentioning that?" "Your motorcycle is BMW! I have never-" I got interrupted by the sudden arrival of some people. Some fangirls of Evan, to be specific, asking for his autograph. About ten of them politely swarmed into Evan's position, holding their pen and paper. They must be so excited seeing their idol on the street in bright daylight without having to worry about security. Evan mentioned once that he doesn't care about being caught by fans outside as he really likes interacting with him. And as I saw how happy he is right now, it was clear that he treats his fans so dear. Evan is a nice guy. Could you believe that? "Evan oppa, can you sign on this too?" a cute girl cheerily asked Evan while showing him a white paper with tiny hearts printed on it. (Oppa: a Korean term used by a woman calling or talking to an older man whether he is related to her or not; a term of endearment for your boyfriend.) Being a polite person, Evan took the paper without hesitation and immediately signed it. He even drew more hearts to complement his signature. "Here you go. Study well, okay?" Evan said to the same girl and even tapped her head. Evan's interaction with his fans continued-him signing on their notebooks or any piece of paper they had, taking photos with them, talking with them. Being aware of how lovely the moment was, I realized I was blocking his sudden mini gathering with his fans, so I stepped a little far away from them and patiently waited for it to finish. It took a couple more minutes before Evan's fangirls bid their goodbye to him. When everything seemed solemn again, Evan looked in my direction, his lips forming into a smile of relief. He must've thought I would be leaving him, seeing how a little hectic his situation was earlier. But no, I honestly didn't mind it. I was even astonished that he has this kind of freedom where he's allowed to go everywhere or do anything he wants even if his manager is not around, compared to other idols with strict rules to follow. I slowly approached him, a little flustered that his fans might still be around the area and, unfortunately, see me with him. "Should I-" "Sorry for the interruption. I didn't expect them coming here," Evan muttered. He was still smiling ear-to-ear as I found myself in front of him. "It's fine. But wait, I just need to ask something from you before we go," I reckoned. "Go on. What is it?" I cleared my throat, mentally deliberating if I should proceed with my plan of making fun of him this time. However, that was not necessary, to begin with. He might get along with my silliness, anyway. But seeing how his aura emitted a full-on delighted expression, I should take this as a perfect time to proceed because I knew he wouldn't mind. "Hang on." Trying to suppress my already growing chuckle, I took my journal from my sling bag and tore a piece of paper from it. The sudden spontaneous act of mine made Evan wonder as to what I could be planning. His eyebrow furrowed as he crossed his arms over his chest, quietly observing me. I couldn't help any longer but puff a snort as I looked for my pen. When everything was set, I faced him. "What? What's with the paper and pen?" Evan asked with an evident confusion growing on his face. I smiled eerily. It might've scared Evan a bit, seeing how he meekly took a step back. "Evan oppa. . .." I giggled like I was being tickled with a feather and lightly elbowed the side of his stomach, though I was also a little surprised that those words came out sounding so natural-without any pinch of shyness. A total crap, as I was cringing deep inside me. Evan was apparently speechless-more like shy. He fidgeted with the hem of his leather jacket while occasionally clearing his throat. When he looked like he finally collected himself, he made eye contact with me."As far as I can remember, we're both 26 years old." "I don't care." I tilted my head to get his attention. "Oppa. . ." This time he had to cover his face with both of his hands to hide the embarrassment he felt. He clearly didn't expect this from me, but I enjoyed his expression, so I resumed. "Oppa, can you-" "Misty, stop it." In an apparent state of having to burst from embarrassment, Evan turned his back and put his palm on his forehead as though he was having the most horrendous migraine he'd ever had. "-give me your autograph?" I went to the other way he was facing to get his attention back to me. "Oppa, please sign on this," I spoofed before playfully pinching his arm like a kid. Evan was still silent. It seemed like he had no idea how to respond to the silly situation I had created, so he put his hands on his waist before looking at me. By the look on his blank expression and how his cheeks turned scarlet as though they were slathered with red cayenne powder, he was still trying to figure out how he would react. But all I knew was that my teasing worked. I couldn't hold it any longer, so I burst into an enormous peal of laughter, but Evan abruptly took the paper and pen from me and signed it. "Happy?" he asked me. "Yes!" I exclaimed and was about to take the paper from him but- "Now, you're not," Evan chuckled and tore the paper in my face, and put the pieces in the pocket of my jacket. "Hey!" Evan didn't respond but playfully stuck out his tongue at me instead, like he just lost to me and didn't want to deal anymore. I could not blame him, though. He, unfortunately, lost his playing card to continue dueling with my silliness. Instead, he put on his black full-face helmet and gracefully positioned himself on his motorcycle. I had to refrain from talking as his sweet aura turned to an angst-like aura real quick-almost comparable to mafia gang leaders in an action-packed film. Evan looked insanely cool, handsome, sexy, appealing, and God, why did it seem like he purposely attracted me to him that my heart almost combusted into shatters. This was it, I thought. Karma kicked in instantly. "You okay there?" he asked and put on the key in the motorcycle. "Y-yes. Just a bit regretful," I stuttered and intended on running away. "Right! I'll just take a bus. Be careful on your way, Mr. Evan Park. Good-" Evan suddenly threw the extra helmet to me. "No. I'm pretty sure your friend would scold me when she finds out that I let you take a bus." "Kayla won't know," I insisted. "Oh, yeah? Are you sure? I suppose your friend seemed to have worked undercover for the FBI?" Evan's gaze turned behind me. It appeared that Kayla was standing at the entrance of her cafe, quietly observing and waiting for us to go. She waved at me when I looked at her, so I just returned the wave. When she saw that I was about to get on the seat, she finally went inside her cafe. Although hesitating for the last second, I carefully put on the helmet and sat on the great seat of the motorcycle. The seat was so high for me to reach. I struggled a bit, and as much as I wanted to avoid it, I held on to Evan's shoulders for support. Are motorcycles always this high, or was I just not tall enough? When I finally positioned myself, I silently deliberated if I should hold on to his shoulder. That wouldn't be a problem as his shoulders were broad. Thus, such a plan would be acceptable. As long as I hold on tight to Evan, I will be fine, I thought. "Are you set?" Evan asked and started the engine. "Yes." I tightly hold on to his shoulders. "You better not do anything funny, I'm telling you, Evan," I immediately denoted with a firm voice because I felt like he was up to something. "Sure thing." The motorcycle released some light noise, a blissful sound cranking up-but wasn't irritating to the ears, to be honest-when Evan turned on the engine. I had no idea how motorcycles work, except for the one obvious thing that you have to balance it perfectly for you not to fall on the ground, so I patiently waited for him to finish checking if everything was fine. It took a couple more seconds of making the motorcycle ready before we were set to go. "Evan, let's go. I don't want Kayla to-Evan Park! Oh, my God!!!" I screamed. He started running the motorcycle for what felt like only a millisecond and immediately stopped it by clutching the brake level. But such devilish act of Evan made me startle so hard my head almost felt like ripping from my neck because of the sudden halted gained momentum. Fortunately, I was able to maintain my grasp on his shoulders. On the other hand, Evan burst into a big whoop of laughter, his hands even clapping at their best. "You"-he slapped his thighs to control the laughter-"look so frightened. Relax." I removed my helmet before clutching my chest to breathe correctly before I gravely smacked Evan's back for the number of times I couldn't even count. "Are you trying to kill me?!" I yelled at him and continued smacking his back. "Ouch, Misty! Okay, I will-Ouch!" He opened the visor of his helmet to look at me. "Do you think-" I didn't care if he was hurting. He scared the hell out of me. "Ouch! Sorry-ouch! Misty!" "-that was funny?!" I stopped. "Alright. I will drive properly now." Feeling frightened, I held on to the hem of his leather jacket this time. Evan had to get back at me because of the teasing I did to him earlier by doing such a horrendous motorcycle act-calling him oppa even though we were the same age. After this, I won't ever think of riding on his motorcycle again. Never again. Evan squeezed the vehicle's throttle again to warm it up. "Okay, let's go," he reckoned. I put my helmet back. "You better not do it again, or I will tell Ms. Grace that-Evan Park!!!" I screeched at the maximum volume of my vocal range, not realizing I was already hugging him, my arms tightly wrapped around his torso. Evan laughed so hard at my reaction and at the sight of my arms wrapped around his torso like I didn't want to let him go. He did the same thing as he did earlier-started running his motorcycle and abruptly stopping it. With me being all frightened, Evan, on the other hand, just continued laughing while occasionally checking out the awful and fearful look on my face. But this time, his laugh was a bit more mocking than earlier. Mocking in a sense that he wasn't judging me or something, but more like an unmistakable laugh that he was making fun of me. He was enjoying the moment of my demise, the moment of me facing instant karma. "Evan Park!!!" I screamed once more and slapped his back so hard. "Oh, why are you calling me by my first name now? Did we break up already? Ouch-" he teasingly asked. "What?" I bleated. "Why did you drop the endearment? I thought I was your oppa?" I swallowed a big gulp at what he said, making me stop slapping him and realize what he meant. Break up? Endearment? Oppa? He indicated that romantically. "No, not anymore!" I slapped his back once more. "Evan Park, let's go our way. I want this to end already!" I scowled. He snorted. "Alright, hold on tight." "I am." "By holding the hem of my jacket?" "Yes! I've had consumed enough multivitamins to survive this," I reasoned even though I knew pretty well how fast motorcycles could, especially at the thought of what he did earlier. He would not do that again. Right? "Misty, I'm going to count. If you don't hold on to me-" "I don't want to-" "1 . . ." "I said I don't-" "2 . . . If you won't hold on to me, then-" "Okay! Happy now?" I tightly wrapped my arms back on his torso, but I made sure there was still a little space between our bodies. I could almost feel the firm abdominal muscles underneath his clothes. Our position looked like I was giving him a back hug if you would picture it. Evan ultimately fell silent for absolutely no reason at all. "Why are you not saying anything? What? Did I suddenly make your heart flutter because I'm practically giving you a hug?" I must've chugged in a large amount of some weird, unauthorized chemicals taking over the proper functioning of my neurons-of my whole brain-to have some nerve in asking him that. Evan cleared his throat. "What? No. Why would I feel that?" he stuttered. Of all the times I spent with Evan, I learned how adorable he would be whenever he was shy or couldn't take in some big compliments. "Really?" "Yeah," he whispered and abruptly pulled me closer by grasping my arms, so now it looked like I was fondly giving him an actual back hug, my chin resting on his shoulder. I suddenly felt hot and felt muted even though I wanted to object. Although he was wearing a full-face helmet, I could feel that he was smirking. "Why are you not saying anything? What? Did I suddenly make your heart flutter, Misty?" What the- Did he copy me again? But why did it feel like I was the one who lost in this teasing game I started-the rhythm of the pounding of my heart was loud inside, almost wanting to jump out.