Wonwoo handed me a flyer as he slid into the seat across from me.  I set down my spoon and scanned it.

                “What’s this?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.  He had passed them out to all our friends sitting at our lunch table.  Around us, the cafeteria was filled with loud chatter.

                “An ad for a new soup restaurant that opened near here.  I got a job there.”

                “Wow, looks yummy,” said my friend sitting next to me. 

                “You guys should come sometime.  I’m working on weekends,” he told us with a triumphant grin. 

                “Will you be okay?” I wondered skeptically, turning the flyer over in my hands.  “Seems hectic.” 

                “Of course!  All I have to do is smile and say, ‘Welcome, miss. Can I take your order?’” He demonstrated by lifting my bottle of water off the table and setting it back down in front of me with an exaggerated expression. 

                Someone threw a napkin at him.  “You’ll scare people away like that.”

                We shared a laugh.  I glanced over at the words on the page and noted the address before folding it neatly in half and dropping it into my bag.  Maybe I would stop by later when I was craving something on the menu.

                That Saturday, I was walking around town with a few of my friends, laughing about something dumb when one grabbed my arm.

                “Hey, isn’t that the shop Wonwoo was telling us about?” she asked.  I followed her finger to the building she was indicating.  Sure enough, the neat logo that was on the flyer was hanging above a small restaurant.  The glass windows gave a full view of what was happening inside.  Wonwoo stood out with his dyed hair.  He was leaning over a table, setting a bowl in front of a customer with a gentle smile that was much more natural than how he’d done it in the lunchroom.  He looked good in his employee t-shirt, the sleeves rolled up slightly.

                “Should we go in?” suggested my friend. 

                “Why?  It’s not like we’re going to eat anything.  We shouldn’t just barge in noisily and then leave.”

                “But we should cheer Wonwoo on.”

                Just then, as if he heard his name being called, the boy in question looked up and spotted us through the window.  He grinned and waved.  We all smiled and lifted our hands in response. 

                “Fighting!” I mouthed, clenching my fingers into a fist.  He returned the gesture and my friend elbowed me in the ribs with a suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows.  I rolled my eyes and hustled our group away so we wouldn’t distract him anymore. 

                On Sunday, I went into the restaurant with an empty stomach and without my other friends. I sat at a table by the window and twiddled my thumbs while letting my eyes wander around the interior. Another waiter began to approach me with a menu, but Wonwoo swiftly intercepted him.

                “Welcome, miss,” he said with fake formality.

                “You’ve been practicing,” I noted with a smirk. 

                “It gets me tips,” he replied with a wink. 

                I scoffed and shook my head, then turned my attention to the menu.  I bit my lip as I studied it and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

                “You look pretty today,” he said suddenly.

                I looked over at him in surprise.  “Is that another one of your ways to get tips?”

                “No, I’m saying it because it’s true.”

                I tried to contain my blush and gave back the menu.  “I’ll have a small ox bone soup,” I ordered.

                “Coming right up!”

-x-

                I never seemed to get sick of ox bone soup.

                For the next few weeks, I went almost every weekend to eat at the restaurant Wonwoo worked at.  Sometimes he would sit with me and we would talk and joke around until his manager reprimanded him.  Even on the days that I didn’t go inside, my body seemed to gravitate towards the place.  I kept telling myself that it was on the way to wherever I was going and that I was just passing by, but even I knew that was a lie. 

                My friends joked that Wonwoo probably had a fortune now because of his frequent customer, but he strangely refused to accept the money I left on the table for him.  He always found a way to sneak it back to me before I left or discreetly slip it into my bag when we were at school. 

                A month or two passed and one night I passed by the restaurant like I always did, running an errand for my mom.  I didn’t intend to catch his eye or anything – I just wanted to check up on him, but today he looked up just as I walked into sight. 

                He waved and patted the empty table in front of him.  It had become a habit of mine to sit there when I came for a meal.  He once suggested putting up a reserved sign or scratching my name into the wood, although both ideas earned a disapproving frown from the manager. 

                I shook my head sadly, motioning that I had to go.  He pouted and put his hands together in a begging gesture.  I’m lonely, he mouthed.  I rolled my eyes and waved again, signaling that I was really leaving.  I went on my way.

                “Miss!” a voice suddenly called from behind me. 

                I turned and saw Wonwoo coming towards me, still dressed in his uniform.

                “You forgot something, dear customer,” he said when he approached.

                “What are you talking about?  I never went—”

                He cut me off by giving me a quick peck on the lips. 

                “Your to-go order.”