My palms are sweating. I am awkward. I don’t know what to say. My throat is dry. This is how I felt when I was with him at thirteen. It is miserable. Why did I voluntarily subject myself to this back then? Puppy love was painful. I glance at him. His eyes are straight ahead. He seems uneasy. Its probably about his interview. Though I am curious about the interview, I don’t ask any questions. I don’t want to seem interested. I am terrified of seeming interested.
He stops in front of the fish market. Its been awhile. The market looks different too. Its painted sky blue instead of teal. For a moment he gazes at the building. I start to get out. He says, “Wait, we need to exchange numbers in case my meeting runs long.”
“Okay.” I hand him my phone and he hands me his. He puts his number into mine. Thirteen year old me can not believe I finally got Hae-in’s number! I put my number in his. Thirteen year old me is even more excited that he now has my NUMBER! We exchange phones again. As I get out of the car, he says, “Call me if you need anything.”
Thirteen year old me is currently doing cartwheels. “Thanks.” I point at his lapel and say, “Gong Yoo left his mark.”
Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.
He looks down at his jacket and brushes the hair off. “Thanks for telling me. Have fun.”
I nod and turn toward the market. I hear the VW pull away. I force myself not to look back.
A woman is exiting the market as I am entering. Abruptly she stops and asks in English, “Izzy is that you? It’s me Dami. Remember me?”
How could I forget her? She has changed. Thick glasses no longer frame her face. Her wild hair has been tamed. I say, “Yes I do, it is good to see you.”
She reaches for me wraps her arms around me. She releases me and says, “Oh, it is so good to see you too. Your auntie told me you were coming for a visit. Mrs. Song told me Hae-in is visiting her. Please tell me that ya’ll finally got together.” Her eyes are full of hope.
I shake my head.
She says, “Bummer.” I can see her disappointment. During that long ago summer, the hours she and I spent on the phone talking about Hae-in are wrapped in a layer of bittersweet dreams.
Dami’s phone rings. She pulls it out of her purse, glances a the screen and says. “It’s my sitter. No telling what my boys have gotten into now. It was so good to see you.” She answers her phone and walks away.