Page 9 of XOXO

“Sorry,” he says.

“It’s fine,” I say, though I feel a tingling sensation where he touched me. Like before, I look around at the other patrons, noticing that the majority of the people at the other tables are couples, flirting over food and drinks.

Jaewoo pushes the plate of tteok-bokki toward me, and I see that he’s left me the last piece. Anyone observing us might thinkwewere on a date.

Behind Jaewoo, the girl who was staring earlier approaches, along with her friend.

I glance at Jaewoo, wondering if I should warn him. He probably gets hit on by people on a regular basis. Though I wonder who these girls thinkIam? What if this were an actual date? Are they really about to flirt with him in front of me? For some reason, I have this sudden urge to scowl.

“Hey,” the first girl says, “you look so familiar. Have I seen you somewhere?”

The cup Jaewoo is holding stops midway to his mouth.

For a moment, no one speaks. Then I look up and realize the girl’s eyes are on me.

“You were at the All-State competition last weekend, weren’t you?” she says. “I saw your performance. It was incredible.”

I stare at her. I don’t know what to say. I’ve been praisedbefore, usually following performances, but no one has ever approached me out of the blue, as if I were a celebrity. Jaewoo slowly puts down his chopsticks. Propping his good elbow on the counter, he rests his cheek against his hand as he watches for my reaction.

I wave off her compliment. “Thank you.”

“Seriously, my mother, who was a cellist for the Los Angeles Philharmonic, said you’re very talented.”

“I don’t know what to say—” I start, then cut off when I meet the eyes of the second girl. “Eunice.”

Eunice Kim, Sookie’s daughter. She glances at the counter and I have this wild premonition that she’ll yell at me for sharing her mom’s cooking with a boy.

“Hey, Jenny. I’m surprised to see you out on a Friday night.” She smiles, and it’s subtle, but she looks a bit hurt. “You’re always so busy. I didn’t think you had time to hang out.”

“Oh,” I say, “yeah, it just turned out that way.” Could Ibemore awkward? It’s just that we haven’t really spoken much in the past five years, and before that, we were practically inseparable.

“Anyway, we gotta go,” Eunice’s friend tugs at her arm. “Enjoy your meal!”

Eunice throws me one last glance. “Bye, Jenny.” They leave the tent.

In the awkward silence that follows, I say hurriedly, “We used to be friends when we were younger. But then I started to become more serious about cello and...”

I don’t know why I’m telling him this. It’s like whiplash, one girl telling me how great I am in front of him, only for another to reveal I’m actually a terrible friend.

Jaewoo leans back from the table. “Something similar happened with me. When I moved to Seoul from Busan, some of my friends back home thought I was a sellout.”

“Wow.” I don’t really know much about cities outside Seoul, but I guess the equivalent would be someone moving from their hometown to New York City.

“So you’re a cellist,” he says.

“Yeah.”

“Was that always your dream? To be a cellist.”

“Sort of. My dad played the cello. He wasn’t a professional or anything, but when it came time to choose an instrument, a rite of passage for all Asian American kids—”

Jaewoo laughs.

“My dad’s cello was there and, yeah, I ended up really loving it. It’s also been nice having that connection to him.”

This is the most I’ve opened up about my dad to anyone. I wait for that sense of sadness, that familiar pain, but all I feel is comfort. Five years isn’t a long or short time, but it istime.

I look at Jaewoo. What is it about him that makes me want to open up to him? Is it because I know I won’t see him again after tonight or for another reason entirely; that with him, I can be myself?

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