In Which She Was Interesting

Park Chorong

I put on my stripped windbreaker and grabbed an umbrella beside the doorway before going out from my apartment.  Yoon Bomi, my-unwanted-housemate was following behind.  Wearing sleeveless stripes loose tee and skinny ripped jeans, she looked boyish—but—well—cool.  I admitted it.

“It’s not raining, why do you bring an umbrella?”  She pointed out my right hand, which playing the umbrella along.

“Just in case.”  I answered uninterested.

She nodded reluctantly hearing my answer.

We entered the lift, I went to the corner, leaned backward, and she followed me as well—at the other corner.  I could feel she was eyeing me.  I tried to calm down though I was a bit nervous for being studied like that.  I wondered if something wrong about my outfits, my looks.

“Why are you staring at me?”  I finally spoke up, feeling uncomfortable of her stare.

She was startled, and looked away.

“Mmmm, Ani.  I am just admiring your skin—it’s look fair—and clean.”  She stuttered, but quite bluntly.

I felt my cheek reddened.  I did not know if a girl’s compliment could make me shy.

“I wash and clean myself often.”  I grabbed any word to cover my anxiety, and I found out it was a quite sarcastic.

“Heol!  So, you want to say that I got this dark skin because I don’t wash often.”  She blurted out.

I laughed softly.

“I didn’t say that.”  I tried to hold back my laughter, pulling down the edges of my lips with my fingertips.

“What did you just do?”  She asked, putting her thumb and point finger on the edges of her own lips, copying my gesture before.

“Mmmmm, to hold back my laugh.”  I said, a bit shy.

“Why?  You are prettier when smiling.”  She replied, and I acknowledged that this girl was speak really bluntly.

“We arrived.”

The sound of the lift saved me from her flirtatious joke.  I still could handle it as she was a girl, if she were a boy, I probably threw my deadly glare on her, signaling that she was being too straight-forward and blunt.

“What are we going to eat?”  She asked.  Walking beside me, with her hands crossing in front of her chest.

I bet the wind was giving her a chill, and I regretted of wearing distressed denim cutoffs, which successfully giving a chill on my thighs.

“Wow!  The wind is no joke.”  She continued, tightening her crossing arm.

“Agree.”  I said shortly.

“I want to eat something warm.”  I added.

We walked along the neighborhood while scanning the place to fill our stomach.  I stopped in front of buckwheat noodles restaurant.  It was smell good, and the place was quite full.  I guessed it had good foods inside.

“I want to eat this.”  I walked toward the entrance.

“Can you at least ask for my opinion first, please?”  She murmured.

“You can go to another place if you don’t like this place.”  I said, without looking at her, but I could hear her sigh behind me.

We sat on the corner of the shop, near to a big glass window, which facing the outdoor seats.  I had a good feeling about the taste of this restaurant as I saw many visitors were eating the food deliciously.

“Do you hang out often?”  She asked while playing the chopsticks.

“Mmmm, not really.  Why?”  I frowned.

“No wonder.  You look like someone who have just come from suburban.”  She said in sneering tone.

“What do you mean?”  I said flatly, a bit offended of her word.

“Don’t take it wrong—You just like someone who just have the very first time eating outside.  You are looking around excitedly, and cannot stop smiling to the people who is eating the food happily.”

“Aaaaa…  I rarely eat outside—or hangout.  I love staying at home.”

“No fun.  You are boring.”

“Watch you word—please…”

I was about to rebut, but the waiters cut me off, placing our order on the table.  I forgot about my dejection toward Yoon Bomi as soon as I looked into the savory meals in front of me.  I smiled at the waiter after he finished to place all of the order.

“There are lot of good place for eating.  I’ll show you later.  You should not stay at home too long—going outside is necessary too.”  She said before digging in her food.

I looked up, stared at her.  So, it was all she wanted to say.  She was not a bad person, she just did not know how to use good word.

“I got it.  You’ll treat later.  For now, it’s my treat.”  I shifted my gaze on a bowl of my buckwheat noodle, then eating it carefully.

“It’s good.”  I spontaneously said.  Widened my eyes while my mouth still stuffed with the noodles.

She was chuckling away, and I could see she was spitting water from .

“It’s gross!”  I was back away, avoiding the flying water.

“I am sorry.”  She covered .  “It won’t taste good if you eat it like a princess.  You have to eat it like this.”

Soon, she instantiated how to eat deliciously.  She spun her chopstick, and the noodle was snaking around it.  She leaned closer, opened it widely, and entered her big twirl in .  I unconsciously opened my mouth too.  She chewed the food deliciously, making me to gulp and rise my appetite.  I followed her after, doing what she was doing, and it was true—the food was become more delicious as I heartedly eat it.

I saw her chuckling away because I really follow her, step by step.  I never had eaten anything greedily.  My parent, my grandmother, and my aunt always told me to eat like lady.  Eating in modesty, so that I could get a decent man—or even a king I thought.

“What is your favorite food, Unnie?”  She asked, finishing her meal in a flash.  I mesmerized about how she ate the food so fast.  If I had to count, she only lifted her chopsticks five times before emptying the whole bowl.

“I like chicken.  Especially chicken feet—spicy dakbal.  Although I did not frequently eat that.”  I replied.

“I know a place of very delicious dakbal.  I’ll bring you there later.  Why don’t you eat it often when you really love