Jimin looked through his bedroom window as a large truck made its way into the driveway of the house opposite of his. He didn’t know that someone could have such a big car, and as he watched as men started carrying several large boxes out of the back of the truck, he thought to himself, They must have a lot of stuff to move. Jimin ran down the stairs and into the kitchen.

                “Mom, there’s people in the house in front of us!” he screamed at the top of his lungs, running as fast as his legs could go.

                His mom turned around, smiling. “Jimin, those are our new neighbours! I was just going to make them some rice cakes. Would you like to come with me when I’m done?” she asked.

                Jimin nodded fervently. He wanted to meet the new people so badly! The neighbourhood had barely any kids of his age, and he grew lonely when he came home from school. What if there’s a new kid who’s going to live in that house? Jimin thought. Then I’d have someone else to play with. He bounced up and down in joy, and his mom laughed as she began making her son’s favourite rice cakes.

                Jimin went to the front of the house, to the big windows that look out into the front yard, to see if the new neighbours had come yet. He spied a little boy who looked around his age walking around the back of a small black car, his footsteps small and uncertain. Jimin couldn’t help but squeal in excitement. And then the boy turned around and stared at him through the window.

                Jimin froze, not knowing what to do. What do I do? he thought. He panicked, and he ran up the stairs and into his room. He grabbed his favourite stuffed bear from on top of his bed, perched the bear on top of the window ledge, and peered down at the little boy outside. The boy seemed confused, but then a woman came out of the car and wrapped her arms around the boy. That must be his mom, Jimin thought as the woman, along with a man who just stepped out of the car, led the boy into the house.

                Jimin was overcome with dread. What if the boy doesn’t like him? Would the boy think he’s weird for staring at him? He groaned, hugged his bear to his chest, and flopped back down onto the bed. He felt tears prick his eyes. He hiccupped, and then the tears started flowing down his cheeks and he couldn’t stop them. He wanted to be good friends with the boy, but now it was all over.

                A soft knock came from behind the door, and his mom walked into his room. She saw him sobbing into his stuffed bear and came over to the bed. She took a seat, careful not to sit to heavily or else her son would drive her off for breaking the mattress, and ran a comforting hand through her son’s soft hair.

                “What’s the matter, Jimin? Did someone bother you?” she asked.

                Jimin sniffled, looked at his mother, and said, “I don’t think the boy across from us likes me anymore.”

                His mom looked surprised. “But Jimin, why would the little boy not like you? What did you do that would make you think that he doesn’t like you? You haven’t even met him yet.”

                “I was watching him from the window, and then he looked at me, and I think he’ll think that I’m weird because I was staring at him,” Jimin explained, wiping the tears off his face with the back of his hand.

                To Jimin’s confusion, his mom started to laugh. He sat there, watching as his mom laughed at him. He pouted and reached over to pat his mom on the arm.

                “Mom, why are you laughing?” Jimin asked. He couldn’t understand why his mom was making fun of him. He had just told her the saddest thing that had just happened to him, and she decided to laugh. He clutched his stuffed bear closer to his chest.

                When his mom finally stopped laughing, she looked fondly over at her son, and said, “Jimin, just because the little boy across from us saw you looking at him doesn’t mean that he doesn’t like you. It means that he just saw you. Which reminds me, I think they’re done unpacking. Do you want to come with me and send them our rice cakes?”

                Jimin looked up and nodded, getting up from his bed and prodding to the washroom. I need to get ready,” he thought as he washed the tears off his face. I don’t want the little boy to think that I’m ugly and red-faced.

                Soon, Jimin and his mom walked out the front door, Jimin’s hands full with a plate filled with delicious rice cakes that his mother had made. He stopped at the edge of the street, looked both ways to make sure that there weren’t any cars coming, and led his mom towards the neighbour’s house. It was big, with a finely manicured lawn and large bushes with pretty blue flowers lining the front of the house. He handed the platter to his mom and, with one little pudgy finger, pushed the doorbell.

                The door swung open, and two large brown eyes stared back at him. And Jimin thought he just had a heart attack. He’d seen old people have heart attacks before, like his grandfather, who just dropped onto the ground and started wriggling and gasping for air. He felt kind of like that. His lungs stopped getting enough air, his breath came out in little puffs, and his hands shook at his sides. There was his heart, pounding away at a fast pace, even faster than when he would run around the house playing hide and seek with his dad.

                The boy stepped out from behind the door, wearing nothing but a loosely fitted T-shirt and baggy pants. His black hair was ruffled, like the wind had blown through it, and his pale skin seemed to glow in the fleeting rays of sunshine.

                “Hey I’m your new neighbour Jimin and here are some rice cakes,” Jimin said, grabbing the plate from his mom and ing it into the boy’s grasp.

                The boy took the plate, turned back to place it on what seemed to be a small table or a shoe rack, and returned to say, “I’m Minjoon, nice to meet you.” His voice was soft, and Jimin really liked that. He waited for Minjoon to say more. But Minjoon only offered him a small smile and closed the door behind him.

                Jimin stood there, stunned. Does this mean that Minjoon likes me? he thought. He slowly turned around to look at his mom. And then everything fell in place, like he was the luckiest boy in the world.