~Micky~

“Come home with me tonight.” 

Her eyes widened. 

“Micky-”

“My mom’s making dinner tonight.  Just for dinner.”  She glanced back at her house before nodding.

We walked silently to my family’s apartment.  I turned they key in the lock of our front door.  I turned to smile back at Andrea – to reassure her. 

“Yoochun!”  My mother started talking a mile-a-minute in Korean, calling from the kitchen.  Andrea smiled.  I shook my head and lead her toward the kitchen. 

“Mom.”  She looked up when I called her in English.  “I brought a friend for dinner.”  She raised her eyebrows before looking at Andrea.  She smiled warmly.  “This is Andrea.  Andrea…this is my mom.”  Andrea smiled.

“Nice to meet you.” 

“Nice to meet you too.”  My mother said. 

“Can I help with anything?”  My mother looked at me, her eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“Can I steal your friend for a bit?”  I looked at Andrea.

“If you want to.”  I said slowly.  Andrea smiled brightly at me and went to my mother.  She was wearing an apron, tying her hair up, and shooing me away before I realized what was happening. 

My younger brother walked in, asking something in Korean but he stopped when he saw Andrea.  He raised his eyebrows just like my mother had.  He and Andrea greeted each other and we went to our room. 

“Hyung (older brother), that’s your girlfriend?”  He asked in Korean. 

“No…just a friend.”  He laughed and jostled me.

“No way.  She’s too pretty and you brought her home.” 

“So?”

“So…you never bring girls home.  She must be special.”  I glanced out the opening of the door to the kitchen. 

“We’re just friends.”  I repeated.

Andrea charmed my family, just like she charmed everyone else – effortlessly.  She was too shy to see it…but I never knew anyone who disliked her in high school.  There was just nothing to dislike.  She helped my mother with dinner and they were laughing and talking like they had been doing kitchen work together for years.  The image of her hair falling out of place as she helped cook was so pretty – so genuine. 

I walked her home after dinner.  We stopped at the bus shelter to sit for a while.  Just to sit…maybe to talk if I was lucky. 

“Thank you.”  She said finally.  She looked at me.  “Really.  I needed that.”  I smiled at her.

“Well…so did my mom.  There are some gaps a son just can’t fill.” 

“Mmm.”  I looked at her as she looked up at the sky.

“Andrea…I heard at school…you were sick.”  She glanced at me.

“I told you-”

“Andrea.  You fainted.  You were throwing up.”  My voice strained a little. 

“I’m anemic.”  She said finally.  “My doctor put me on iron supplements…but they make me nauseous.”  I sighed.

“Now was that so hard?”  She chuckled.

“No.  It’s just not a big deal.” 

“And…things at home…did you want to talk about it?”  She stiffened, then stretched her arms out in front of her like she didn’t care.

“That’s also not a big deal.”

“It obviously is.”  She looked at me again.

“He doesn’t hit me or anyone else.”  She said softly. 

“But?”  She shrugged and smiled sadly.

“But he likes to yell…and nothing I do is good enough…nothing I say is right.”  She blinked quickly.  I put my arm around her shoulders and hugged her.  I probably would not have had the courage to do it if it hadn’t been getting dark already.  But the thing is…I didn’t  know what to say.  I just wanted things to be better.

...

~Andrea~

Well…of course he got it out of me.  That’s what Micky did.  I liked the warmth of his hug.  I’ve always liked hugs.  I just didn’t give or get many of them…I wasn’t close enough to most people for that. 

“Don’t hate yourself.”  He whispered finally.  “It’s not like you can be perfect…but you are freaking close.”  I laughed and pulled away. 

“I knew there was a reason we’re friends.”  I .  He smiled and bumped me playfully with his shoulder.  He was always so good at reading the atmosphere.  He could be serious and a great listener, but he also knew how to lighten my mood and make me feel like everything was going to be okay.  “I’ve got to go.”  I whispered.  I was reluctant to leave.  We stood up and he waved and watched me go inside. 

No matter what, I felt lighter.

…

~Micky~

My mother was still up when I got home.  She looked up from wiping the counters down.  She wacked me playfully with a dishtowel when I sat up on the counter. 

“I like her.”  She said finally.  I smiled at her.

“I know.” 

“She’s a good girl.”

“I know.”  She turned and pointed her spatula at me.

“Don’t hurt her.  Don’t get her pregnant.” 

“Omma! (Mom)” I coughed, somehow managing not to spray the water I had been drinking.  “It’s not like that.  We’re just friends.”  She clucked at me and shook her head. “Really.” 

Even though I should have probably felt a mixture of embarrassment and frustration from my mother’s assumptions, I still felt lighter. 

Andrea was special to me.  Not a girlfriend.  Not a lover.  Just special.