Page 14

JULIE

London

Got us a reservation at Sook Jae! Check your email.

Me

Awesome. I’ll tell Randall.

Randall

London is asking you out

Me

No. It’s a school project meeting.

Randall

Yeah, okay. Sure.

When I arrive at Sook Jae, London is dressed in sleek black pants with a crisp navy short-sleeved shirt. He spots me and waves me over. I plaster a fake smile on my face. Everything screams “date.” The candles that burn brightly in the center of the table. The red rose he has placed on my seat. I pick it up before I sit down.

“This is pretty,” I say.

“Just like you,” says London. He leans close to kiss my cheek.

I press my hands on his shoulders to steady him away from me.

“I thought this was a group project meeting.”

London pulls his seat closer to mine. Thank goodness a waiter interrupts before London says anything more. The waiter places several banchan dishes down. I immediately nibble on the potato salad and marinated spinach.

London and the waiter speak Korean. I’m dying to turn around to the entrance to see if Randall is on his way. I fill my plate with banchan.

“I’m ordering off the menu,” says London.

“Can’t wait. I’ve only heard amazing things about this place. Mainly from Mercy,” I say.

London raises an eyebrow with a bemused smile on his face. “I didn’t realize you two were still friends.”

Crap. Technically, I’m not supposed to be friends with Mercy. But I never cut off contact.

I decide to ignore London’s line of questioning. I drape my starched black cloth napkin over my lap, then fold my hands in front of myself to show I mean business. Business being the school project.

I pull out my phone and scroll through my notes.

“I’ve got some ideas for the school showcase menu that will focus on the unique fresh vegetables from the cuisines at the farmers market.”

When I look up, I see that London is staring at me with a hopeful smile that definitely does not seem about my ideas. I plow through my speech.

“We could offer things like lo bak go and sell the daikon seeds at the event. I also think that having beautifully printed recipes for each dish would be great as a takeaway, so that people can prepare the dishes they’ve tasted.”

“Everything you’re saying is fantastic,” says London, still smiling sweetly.

I tense up because I know I need to say something to London. He has that look that every romantic lead has in a rom-com. I should tell him I have a crush on someone else.

“Hey,” says Randall.

The air rushes back into my lungs. Randall looks amazing in a white T-shirt under a thick gray sweater. London’s smile disappears immediately.

“Come. Sit. You got here just in time. London ordered a bunch of food for us.”

Randall pulls up a seat. His knees bump against mine and there goes my breath again.

RANDALL

When I scoot into my seat, my knees bump against Julie’s. Her hand briefly touches my leg gently. I keep my face still even though I swear my heart is in my throat.

I spot the red rose on the table, resting next to Julie. I get the sense that I am the third wheel, whether Julie wants to admit it or not.

“Am I interrupting anything?”

Julie jumps in, “Not at all. I was discussing the menu I’ve been planning out.”

A waiter arrives with sundubu jjigae, one of my favorite tofu kimchi stews, and tteokbokki, spicy cylindrical rice cakes—my grandmother makes these for me every week, but I never get tired of them—and several beef bibimbaps. Hot bowls sizzle with bubbling red sauces. In true Korean form, there is more food than we could possibly ever eat. I’ll bring some leftovers back for Halmeoni; she’d like to try it.

“Julie has some brilliant ideas,” says London.

“I’d love to hear them.”

Julie pushes her phone closer to me so I can read the notes she’s jotted down.

“I love lo bak go. The third graders are growing daikon right now so we should be able to harvest some fresh radishes for the event.”

Julie smiles at me and I swear that it gets warmer in here. It must be all the hot plates on the table.

“What else are you envisioning?” I ask.

Julie excitedly shares the details of the samples that she’d like to give out. Basically, a delicious sampling of all the best that the Pasadena Farmers Market has to offer. London starts to look incredibly bored.

He slides his seat closer to Julie. “Can I take a look?”

Julie gives him her phone. He frowns. “I’m not sure logistically we can pull this off. The menu is off the charts, but how are we going to cook all this food?”

Julie looks defeated. I interject, “Our families run numbers like this for bigger crowds than the school event.”

“Sure,” says London. “But the school’s industrial kitchen is far from the actual event space.” He clicks his silver chopsticks over the japchae and places a portion on Julie’s plate. It’s the ultimate loving gesture. Suddenly, my appetite has disappeared.

“What do you propose we do instead?” asks Julie.

London leans forward with a devilish grin on his face. “Why don’t we leave the school project for another night?”

“London, we have two weeks until the showcase. Another night won’t cut it. I refuse to get anything less than an A on this project,” says Julie.

“Relax. We’ve got this,” replies London.

He touches Julie’s fingertips. She freezes. Okay, I am definitely the third wheel here. She pulls her hand back, bumping her thumb against the thorn of the red rose.

“Ouch!” she says. She hops up. “I should go clean my hand. It stings. I’ll be right back.”

I look at London, who has a lovestruck look on his face. I fold my hands in my lap. This is so awkward. We say nothing to each other, mainly because London is fixated on Julie’s return.

I should make up an excuse, like my grandmother is sick and I should go. But Julie returns as I’m about to stand up, and London clears his throat.

“Julie, maybe I could take you out on a real date sometime soon?”

“This isn’t a date, London.”

“Oh,” says London, uncertain. “I… did I come on too strong?”

Julie cracks a small smile. “Maybe a little.”

London nods. “Most girls like it when I take them out to a nice restaurant, and they put up with me for what they get out of it.”

“I’m not most girls. And you shouldn’t want someone who’s just going to put up with you,” she says gently.

He hangs his head down. “Yeah… I think I should go. I’ve already taken care of the bill. Enjoy the meal.”

Julie touches his arm. “Thanks. I mean it.”

London nods and leaves. We watch him go. I nibble on the sundubu jjigae. It’s so damn good that I almost don’t notice how close Julie is to me.

“I told you he thought it was a date.”

Julie smiles. “I hate that you’re right.”

“I usually am,” I say with a silly grin.

Julie play hits me with her cloth napkin. I reach out to stop her. She grabs my hand. I freeze. I look up at her, unable to form words. Her beautiful brown eyes are fixed on me. She leans over, dangerously close to my lips. The fancy restaurant fades from my mind and all I can see are her perfectly pink, soft-looking lips.

“I was finally able to read the note you left,” she says, “I feel the same way.”

Our hands are still touching. My heart is lodged in my teeth. I want to say something but don’t want to ruin the moment.

I spent hours reworking the sentences until they felt right, writing them with invisible ink into our old notebook.

Dear Julie,

I hope that somehow you can read this because I’ve been wanting to say all of this to you in person, but I can’t. I’m sorry we stopped being friends. I wish we had talked sooner than this school project. But I’m grateful that we’re talking now.

When I realized I was trans, I wanted so badly to talk to you about it. Mercy listened to all of my ramblings, but I knew that you would’ve accepted me no matter what.

I’m writing this because I think I like you as more than a friend and I’m terrified that you don’t feel the same way. So if you don’t feel the same way, please rip this note out and burn it so it’s like it never existed.

But if you feel an ounce of what I’m feeling, can you please tell me?

Yours,

Randall

“Please say something,” says Julie.

“Me?” is all I can choke out.

“Yes, silly,” says Julie.

She brushes my cheek with her hand. The electricity that flows through me could light this entire restaurant. I don’t want to stop her, but I do.

“Maybe not here,” I say.

Julie nods. “Let’s enjoy the rest of this meal.”

The knots in my stomach loosen, and my appetite returns. Suddenly, I am ravenous.

I scoop brown rice into my bowl and top it with a variety of dishes. Bean sprouts marinated in sesame oil, tteokguk rice cakes simmered in clear beef broth, and thick pieces of beef bulgogi.

“It’s amazing,” says Julie.

“Don’t tell my halmeoni, but this bulgogi might be the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

We share a smile, then return to eating.

L ater in the parking lot, I follow Julie to her car. She pulls me into the back seat. Our bodies crush against each other. I suddenly feel incredibly nervous because I haven’t exactly kissed anyone lately.

“Could we take a moment?”

“Of course,” says Julie.

We settle into the seats so there’s more space.

“We don’t have to do anything,” says Julie. “I just thought we could be alone without anyone noticing us. Who knows who might tell our families, right?”

Once she says it, the mood changes because we realize that we can’t exactly be open about our relationship. First, our grandmothers would be royally pissed. Second, we both love our grandmas too much to disappoint them.

For a few moments, there’s nothing we can say. I debate whether I should leave the car before we do something we can’t step back from.

But she reaches for me, and I give in easily. She slips her hand into my hair. Air escapes my lips.

“Is this okay?” asks Julie.

I bite my lip before saying yes. “It’s more than okay.”

I’m pretty certain I have forgotten my own name. When she presses her soft lips against mine, I feel fireworks sparkling through me like Fourth of July. I return the kiss and find myself lost in the moment.

Goodbye, words. Goodbye, brain.

When we pull away, Julie’s lips look swollen. I blush.

“Okay, how do we do this?” asks Julie.

“Sex? I like you, but I’m not ready for that.”

Julie bats my hand. “No, silly, how do we date? It’s not like we can hold hands in the hallway.”

Suddenly, the fireworks inside me fade. The reality of our situation doesn’t match the way I feel inside. I can’t bring Julie over to introduce her to my family. I can’t kiss her in front of my friends. We have to pretend that what we feel doesn’t really exist.

“We have the notebook,” I say.

Julie leans forward to kiss me. “I’m going to need some way to kiss you again.”

I don’t say a word because her kiss feels that good.

“Maybe we could meet secretly. Like in Santa Monica?” I suggest.

Julie bursts out laughing. “No one in our family would ever venture that far.”

“It’s basically a foreign country as far as Halmeoni is concerned.”

“How exactly do I explain the fact that I need to go to the west side?”

“Part of the school project?”

“Perfect,” she whispers.

Our half-assed plan forms between warm kisses. How does one person feel so good in jeans? I could leave my hand on Julie’s hip for the rest of my life. My hand reaches under the edge of her shirt until I touch skin.

She kisses my neck and I bliss out. My hand goes higher until I touch the edges of her bra. I hesitate, but Julie whips off her shirt and tosses it aside. Suddenly, we are so close that I feel like every part of her is against me. I lean back until I’m laying down in her back seat with her on top of me.

“Is this crazy?” I murmur as I look up at her.

“Shut up,” says Julie. She kisses me hard.

For once, I do exactly as she says.