Page 17 of Baby Love

“One of the reasons,” I admit. “It’s hard being so small. I wish I were tall like you are.”

“I think you’re cute,” P’Park says, taking a sip of his beer.

I roll my eyes. “There’s that word again.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being cute. You said Anya was cute,” P’Park reminds me.

I scowl at him. “She’s seven!”

P’Park laughs, and, even though my height can be a sore spot with me, I find I really don’t mind when P’Park calls me cute–in fact, I kind of like it. Kiet always says that I hate to be small and cute until the moment I can use it to my advantage.

“You obviously don’t realize how difficult it can be to be tall,” P’Park says seriously.

“Oh, please. Enlighten me,” I say sardonically.

“Well, for one thing, every time I’m in a grocery store, I have to get something off the top shelf for at least one person.”

“Poor baby,” I say. “At least you don’t have to be the one asking someone to get something off the top shelf. It’s so embarrassing.”

“And people can’t keep up with me when I walk,” P’Park continues. “I have to keep slowing down for them.”

I hum, unimpressed.

“And people always assume I’m good at basketball.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You’re not?”

P’Park smiles. “Okay, I am. But not every tall person is. I don’t think.”

“So lame,” I say.

“No leg room on a plane?” P’Park tries, and I can’t help but laugh.

P’Daeng and Aod return, sweaty from dancing.

“Sure you don’t want to dance?” P’Daeng asks me.

“I’m not big on crowds,” I say.

“Really? Why is that?”

“Not being able to see over other people’s heads makes me feel trapped.”

P’Daeng smiles at that. “Oh. Well, you’re really cute, though.”

P’Park snorts, and I smack his arm.

Giving me a mischievous look, he holds out his hand. “Come on. Dance with me. I promise to take care of you, and we can practice skinship”

Taking his hand, I follow him to the dance floor. P’Park chuckles as he draws me into his arms.

“Be careful around Daeng,” he says.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“He sleeps around,” P’Park clarifies. “A lot. You don’t want to be a notch on his bedpost.”

I make a face. “You think I’m that easy?”