Page 57 of Sporty Girls Don't Fall For Loners

Before we sit down at our table, we make a stop at the back office to say hello to Mia’s harabeoji. He takes care of the day-to-day operations of the restaurant while Halmeoni is in charge of the kitchen. He, too, is super happy to see us, but he’s swamped with work, so we keep our visit short and head to our table.

The place is pretty full, as it is most days. The hostess leads us to a table that seats four people.

“Cool, we get a window,” Mia says as we lower ourselves on the chairs. One of the servers, Ae-Cha, hands us menus, and we start scrolling through the options. I know everything on the menu by heart, but it’s still fun to look through it.

“I know what I’m ordering,” Rylee says as she returns her menu to Ae-Cha. “Japchae.”

“I was going to order that, too!” I say.

“And me,” Mia says with a giggle. “You know that’s my family’s favorite dish.”

Ae-Cha smiles. “Three orders of japchae coming right up!”

“Gamsahamnida,” we say.

“You’re welcome.” She smiles and leaves.

“The awesome smell is making my stomach literally eat itself up,” I complain.

“Me, too!” Rylee says. “I love your grandma’s cooking, Mia. She puts her heart and soul into her dishes. Every bite feels like a kiss from my own grandma.”

Mia grins. “Thanks. Sometimes I catch her tearing up in the kitchen because the restaurant has come such a long way. I can’t believe how much it’s grown in the last few years. Poor Harabeoji is stressed out all the time. My dad wants to hire an assistant to help him, but he’s so stubborn.”

“I’m so happy for your family’s success,” I tell her. “Ji-Ho’s has become a staple in Edenbury. Maybe it’ll one day rival Mikey’s.”

“If the high schoolers hijack it,” Rylee says. “Mikey’s is still the popular teen hangout while Ji-Ho’s is more of a family thing. Which is actually better, I think.”

“Me, too,” Mia says. “That’s our mission. To make this place feel like somewhere families can spend a wonderful evening together.”

Ae-Cha comes with our japchae—stir-fried glass noodles and vegetables—and rice, of course. My friends and I waste no time digging in and sighing in pleasure at how freakin’ delicious the food is.

“I’m in heaven, I’m in heaven, I’m in heaven,” Rylee says as she gobbles down the food. “Excuse my manners. I can’t hold back when it comes to Halmeoni’s cooking.”

“Same,” I say as I stuff my face.

We don’t talk much because we’re enjoying our food, but halfway through, Mia’s eyes light up. “Oh my gosh! You have to hear what happened last night with WillowBot.”

WillowBot is the robot her sister built in eighth grade, where she won the robotics competition. Now that Willow is at MIT, going for an engineering degree, she left her robot in Mia’s care.

“She’s supposed to be on standby while I sleep,” Mia explains. “Sort of on alert in case there’s an emergency, but she’s not supposed to disturb me. You know how much WillowBot worries about me getting enough sleep.”

“We know,” we both say. Sometimes Mia stays up too late gaming. WillowBot has scolded her many times to get her butt in bed at a decent hour.

“So all of a sudden, I’m woken up at like three in the morning because WillowBot was making these really weird sounds. Like, really loud weird sounds. It scared the crap out of me! I thought someone was trying to break into my room or something.”

“What happened to her?” Rylee asks.

“No idea! She was making those sounds and then she started spinning around. I caught her before she fell off my desk. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to press any of her buttons because I don’t want to damage her. And then she got even louder and I was worried she’d wake up my parents. So I had no choice but to wake up Willow in the middle of the night.”

“Did she know how to fix her?” I ask.

“Yeah, she walked me through what to do. WillowBot is as good as new.”

Both Rylee and I sigh in relief. We’ve practically grown up with WillowBot and care about her, even if she can be a bit overbearing sometimes.

“Yeah, she already yelled at me this morning for eating a chocolate bar instead of breakfast,” Mia grumbles.

I grin. “Yep, she’s as good as new.”

---