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“What do you mean you’ve never had bubble tea?!”
It’s funny how the tables have turned. Kim expected this lie to last, at most, a week.
Now he’s sitting across from a boy, being more honest than he has been with anyone. Ever.
Kim shrugs, sipping his black coffee. “Never had the chance.”
“Never had the chance? There are shops everywhere!” Rather than argue, Kim looks down, a small smile tugging at his lips. He’s not embarrassed at how Chay blurts out these simple truths, nor does he care about the stares when Chay slams his coffee cup onto the small table. “Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do. Tomorrow’s lesson is canceled.”
“Chay-”
“I’m serious. This is criminal, Kim.”
Oh, if only Chay knew.
“Alright, alright.”
Kim wakes up early on the bubble tea date.
Hang out. Tutoring session. Whatever they’re calling this.
He only slept five hours. He spent the night before looking up the ingredients in a standard bubble tea. Kim read and read some more and debated on flaking. He hadn’t canceled on Chay yet. Not once. Sitting with Chay, playing guitar beside him, gives Kim the peace of mind to actually think about music. Being with Chay makes all the numbers and PRs float away, and all that’s left is silly guitar riffs and cheesy lyrics. Even when Chay started adding other things for them to do, like grabbing coffee or dinner, they didn’t seem like colossal tasks. Ideally, he’d want more time to plan, but most menus had something safe and familiar to eat. Except this time.
It’s okay, Kim thinks to himself. He’ll focus on cardio today and tell Chan to get off his back. It’s not like he’s part of the family. It’s not like anyone’s looking at him anymore: assessing him, training him.
Kim laces up his sneakers and leaves his apartment before the sun can even yawn.
“What will you get, Kim?”
Kim doesn’t know what to order. He thought he studied the right menu. But it turns out Chay’s first choice was closed on Wednesdays, so they pivoted to a second location. So now Kim feels like he’s stranded on a raft, and Chay’s on an island, waving him down.
“I… I’m not sure,” he stutters out. The menu is overwhelming, spanning three different television screens. The colorful signs and bold letters are distracting too. There are, apparently, different types of jellies. The other menu only offered the tapioca balls. And the other menu didn’t have seasonal flavors. “What do you usually get?” Maybe if he distracts…
“I really love a classic taro milk tea! Wanna try one?”
“Sure.”
Chay places the order, and before Kim can pull out his wallet, Chay slaps down some bills. He, Chay, and the cashier make eye contact amongst each other before Chay explains, “Kim, you’re always paying. Let me.”
“Names?”
“Kim and Chay!”
The bored cashier scribbles on the cups and then hands Chay his change. “You’re number 84.”
“Thank you!”
They cross to the other side of the cafe. “You didn’t have to pay, Chay.”
“Yes I do,” Chay insists. “You’re my friend, and this was my idea. So I’m treating you.” Without another word, Chay steps ahead and leans his hands on the counter, leaving Kim to stare at the back of his head.
This is the end.
Chay bought this treat for him. Spent money on him. Was excited to have Kim try bubble tea, and now… Now Chay would find out that not only is his guitar tutor not just a guitar tutor, but also a heartless, obsessive health freak. Kim won’t finish the drink, and Chay will be heartbroken, and thus would be the end of their budding-
Kim tries to swallow, his throat becoming dry. “Do they have water here?”
“Of course, Kim.” Chay waves someone down, and seconds later, there’s a cup in Kim’s hand.
He swallows it all in one gulp, hoping it’ll help with the anxiety as two purple drinks slide down to Chay. Chay picks out straws for them: blue for himself, yellow for Kim, before guiding them to the corner of the shop.
“So you take the pointy end, and you stab the top!”
Kim’s hand trembles.
“Do you need help, Kim?”
“No, no. I got it.” He does; one fluid motion, and the straw pierces the plastic film. There’s a sweet smell in the air, and while it’s not all bad, it does make Kim’s stomach queasy.
One sip. One sip, and you can tell him that you feel sick. One sip shouldn’t hurt you, it’s just one sip-
“Cheers!”
The plastic cups bump against each other, and Kim wraps his lips around the straw. He doesn’t draw any of the drink up yet. He, instead, watches Chay take gulp after gulp of taro tea. Kim can’t help but smile. Chay looks so silly, but so happy. It makes the pit in Kim’s stomach grow. Chay is easily pleased.
One sip. For him.
The drink is overwhelmingly sweet, though there is a faint taste of tea. One of the bubbles comes up too, and Kim spends some time chewing. And chewing.
“What do you think?!”
“It’s not bad, but I feel a bit sick.”
Chay tilts his head. “Yeah? I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were sick.”
Kim rubs his palms into his jeans. “It’s okay.”
An awkward silence falls between them, and Chay slurps at his drink. Kim looks out the shop window, feeling guilty. He knows he should take another sip, like he does with the whiskey that his father presses into his hands during meetings. Two real sips among several fake ones usually pacifies everyone. And he doesn’t want to give Chay the wrong-
“Kim?”
“Yes, Chay?”
“You didn’t like the bubble tea, did you?”
Kim wishes he could vanish. After hesitating, he says, “I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry, Kim? You’re allowed to not like things.” Chay shrugs. “Maybe you’ll like another flavor next time.”
“I…” Kim swirls the straw in the drink. “I don’t really like sweet drinks,” he confesses. It’s not a full lie.
But it’s not the entire truth either.
“Oh! Why didn’t you say so?” Chay smacks Kim’s hand. “You could have gotten an herbal tea with jellies instead!”
“Oh,” Kim breathes. “What are those?”
“They’re just iced teas. You don’t have to sweeten them either. Do you like Oolong?”
Kim nods.
Chay smiles. “Then stop drinking that. I’ll get you an iced Oolong tea with jellies. Is that okay?”
“Yeah, that would be great.”
“And Kim?”
“Yeah?”
Chay reaches across the table and covers Kim’s hand with his own. “You can always be honest with me. I like all the parts of you.” Chay flushes before quickly tacking on, “Even though you hate bubble tea. But I’ll forgive you.”
“Thank you, Chay,” he teases back, relief flooding him.
“I’ll go order it.”
Kim watches Chay get up and head to the cashier. Kim can't explain it, but the mental math he's done all day fades, for the moment. Minutes later, Chay calls out his name.
“Kim!”
Kim looks up and sees Chay, smiling brightly, holding up his unsweetened tea. With jellies.
The pit in Kim’s stomach suddenly doesn’t seem so endless.