The sunroom is my favorite room in the house. It’s almost all glass—glass roof and floor-to-ceiling glass windows that look out onto our perfectly manicured back lawn.

The room’s decoration is like a movie set of a tropical rain forest. It’s filled with realistic and lush-looking fake tropical plants. Banana and coconut trees laden with fake fruit and hibiscus plants with fake flowers are everywhere. There’s even a babbling stream that snakes its way through the room, but there are no fish—at least no real ones. The furniture is aged white wicker that looks like it’s been sitting in the sun. Because it’s meant to be tropical, my mom keeps a heated fan running and a slightly too-warm breeze fills the room.

Most days I love it because I can imagine that the glass has fallen away and I’m Outside. Other days I feel like a fish in an aquarium. 

The flows of the water sounds, the breeze of the fake air that running through the entire plants, at least I can imagine how the world outside works.

By the time I get there, Chaeyoung has managed to climb halfway up the rocky back wall, hands and feet wedged into crevices. She’s pinching one of the large banana leaves between her fingers when I walk in.

“It’s not real,” she says to me.

“It’s not real,” I say at the same time.

She let go of the branch but remains where she is on the wall. Climbing for her is like walking for the rest of us. This small cub is really something, that I want to keep her in my pocket.

“Are you going to stay up there?” I ask, because I don’t know what else to say.

“I’m thinking about it, Mina. Sana said I had to stay as far away from you as possible and she doesn’t seem like the kind of lady that you pissed off.” 

“You can come down,” I say. “Sana’s not as scary as she seems.”

“OK.” She slips effortlessly to the floor. She puts her hands into her pockets, crosses her feet at the ankles, and leans back against the wall. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so still. I think she’s trying not to spook me.

“Maybe you should come in,” she says, and then I realize that I’m still in the doorway holding on to the knob. I close the door but don’t take my eyes off her. Her eyes track my movements as well.

After all the IMs I felt like I knew her, but now with her standing in front of me it doesn’t feel that way at all. It's different when you imagined a person before and after you talk in a close distance.

She’s short than I thought and way more muscled, but not bulky. Her arms are lean and sculpted and her biceps fill the sleeves of her black sleeveless T-shirt. Her skin is a tanned golden brown. Her plump red lips, slightly opened while staring at my movement. Oh yeah, just realized that she actually got a mole right under that lips. She looks strong, her smile makes me warm. 

“You’re different than I thought you’d be,” I blurt out.

She grins and a dimple forms just under her right eye.

“I know. ier, right? It’s OK, you can say it.” She chuckled, with that cute dimple.  Gosh, I would like to poke that.

I guffaw. “How do you manage to carry around an ego with that size and weight?”

“It’s the muscles,” she shoots back, flexing her biceps and raising a single comical eyebrow.

Some of my nervousness falls way but then comes right back when she watches me laugh without saying anything for a few seconds too long.

“Your hair really is so long,” she says. “And you never said you had a lot of moles on your face.” Chaeyoung says while examining my face.

“Was I supposed to?” 

“Moles might be a deal breaker.” She smiles and the dimple comes back. Cute!

I move to the couch and sit. Since I'd never want to impress anyone with my appearance, I suddenly wanna look good in everything I did. I keep changing a sitting position so that she will see me in a pretty way.  Cheyoung smiles looking at my actions. Am I being obvious? She then leans against the rock wall across the room.

“They’re the bane of my existence,” I say, referring to the freckles. This is a ridiculous thing to say because, of course, the bane of my existence is that I’m sick and unable to leave my house. We both realize this at the same time and then we’re both laughing again.

“You’re funny,” she says after our laughter subsides.

I smile. I’d never thought of myself being funny, make jokes because all I ever talked with only for M