Chapter 7: What Friends Are For

Late Winter

I had just changed into my comfortable lounge-around-the-house clothing and was staring at the fridge trying to figure out what to eat when there came a knock on my door.

“Who could that be?” I said aloud to the empty room.

I opened the door and felt my eyes widen to the size of saucers.

I fumbled to find and form words. “Min--Min--MinHo, w-w-what are you doing here?” was what finally came out. I was not expecting him to visit. At least, not visit without MinJoon. What is he doing here. . .alone?

Then, as if reading my thoughts, he answered my question: “I came to say thank you. Again.”

“For what? The MinJoon thing? I already said it wasn’t a big deal,” I said as I fussed to fix my messy hair into a somewhat more kempt style. I was definitely NOT prepared to receive visitors

“I wanted to say a proper thank you for helping MinJoon the other night. . .” his voice trailed off and I thought he must be recalling the events of a few days ago.

“Yes, I understand her situation all too well,” my voice was soft.

It wasn’t that I was bullied by my classmates, but whenever I came to Seoul I always felt distant from and unwanted by YunHee’s friends and even YunHee herself sometimes. And even though I was a few years out of high school, their treatment of me had not changed, but I now had perspective and better coping skills so it didn’t bother me as much anymore.

“When you started teaching her, she began to change,” MinHo continued. “She’s so much happier now than she was a few months ago, and when she came home the other morning she wouldn’t stop talking about you. No mention of the panic or her. . . episode I guess you’d say. No mention of being lonely. Everything was about you and SooMin and how happy she was to have an unnie and a friend.” His eyes were full of tenderness and appreciation as he spoke. My heart was touched, but I was also embarrassed by the praise. “It’s all thanks to you Little HyeYeong.”

Again, I was having a difficult time finding my words and keeping eye contact with MinHo was not helping so I looked at the floor. “Oh. . .uh. . . no worries. Like I’ve said, it’s not a big deal.”

Before he spoke, MinHo reached down and used his index finger to tilt my face back up so our eyes met again. His voice was soft, “Yes, HyeYeong-ah, it is a big deal,” then after backing away and clearing his throat, he added in a more business-like tone, “And that’s why I’m here: to show my appreciation for your act of kindness. How about I take you to a movie?”

My eyes widened in shock. Movie? Wasn’t that something you do on a date? Was MinHo asking me out on a date?! Suddenly my heart felt jittery.

I don’t know if MinHo could read the trepidation on my face, or if it was my silence that was more telling, either way he continued, “Or we could go get something to eat. There’s this place I hear a lot of people go to, J’Adore or something like that.”

I had often heard YunHee mention that restaurant; she and her friends went there to unwind with a glass of wine after a long day of shopping or primping. My clothes aren’t exactly up to fancy dining standards. . . And I’m still confused. Is this a date? If it is, I don’t think I could handle sitting at a table in front of YunHee and company with MinHo knowing full well that we were their topic of conversation. Besides, SeHun and EunMi might be there. How in the world would I be able to pay attention to anything MinHo said when SeHun was in the vicinity? Even though SeHun promised he wouldn’t tease me anymore, I don’t want to give him any fuel to fire at me.

“Or,” MinHo said with another glance at my face, “We could just grab some ramen somewhere. . .”

Ramen! That could work! I mean, that’s something friends and coworkers do all the time is go out and eat ramen together, so that hardly counts as a date! I tried to reassure myself. Right?

“That sounds good to me,” I finally said, hoping I sounded nonchalant and not overly relieved by his offer.

He shot me a secretive smile, “Ramen it is then.”

The sound of Boy In Luv(상남자) filled the car.

Is that BTS? MinHo is a Bangtan Boys fan?! I should have known. He had once mentioned liking Jay Park, and anyone who likes Jay Park has to like BTS! I’m fairly certain that’s an unwritten law. . . Knowing we had such similar taste in music made me feel closer to him.

“So. . . Who is your favorite member?” I ventured.

“What? Oh! You mean my favorite member of BTS?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me yours first then I’ll tell you mine.”

I felt the heat rise in my face. “JungKook,” I said quietly. It was a bit embarrassing to admit I liked someone more than three years younger than me.

“Awww, I see,” he nodded his head in understanding. “You like the dongsaengs and not the oppas.” He turned his head and smiled playfully at me.

“Well who’s your favorite member then?” I repeated wanting to divert the attention away from me.

I looked over to see MinHo with one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting from his jaw to his temple. He seemed to really be giving this some thought.

After awhile he replied, “I don’t really have a favorite member. They’re just a group of kids whose music I like.”

The rest of the car ride we sat in silence as a variety of groups and genres played in the background: Jay Park, CNBLUE, 2ne1, 2AM, SNSD. . . The silence wasn’t awkward, but it also wasn’t comfortable so I was grateful for music.

The ramen place he took me to was just my kind of place: a small hole-in-the-wall near the Han River with dim lighting and writing all over the walls. Nobody there paid the slightest bit of attention to us; in fact, I don’t think anybody looked at us at all except for the teen-aged waitress who brought us our order.

And even though I’d been worried about what to talk about or that things might be awkward between us if he’d heard SeHun teasing about us being a couple or other baseless rumors, it turned out that I didn’t need to worry at all. MinHo started telling me these funny stories about the people he met and the places he’d gone while traveling around the world, and after that, the conversation between us just flowed.

And when the ramen came, it was a little undercooked, just the way I like it, with the right amount of scallions and a perfectly boiled egg. The kimchi was tangy and the radishes tart.

As we ate, we exchanged stories from the past and caught up with the lives we’d each been living the past five years. He told me about the stress and excitement of starting his own business right out of college, and I told him about the music academy I’d attended in my province. And of course MinJoon’s progress came up, so I told him about her latest blunder with the ivories that made me almost choke from holding back my laughter.

It was at some point during this part of the conversation that MinHo’s knees accidentally touched mine underneath the table. I felt the crisp crease in his slacks against my exposed skin. My knee jerked back automatically.

“Sorry,” I said as MinHo overlapped me with a, “Pardon me,” and moved his knees out of the way.

Then about five minutes later, it happened again. Only this time, he didn’t apologize. . . or move them. I sat there frozen, unsure of what to do. Every cell in my body was on high alert. All of a sudden, I was keenly aware of the fact that MinHo was no longer a boy; he was a man. I mean, I’d obivously known he was a man, and a good looking one too, but somehow when his knees touched mine beneath the table--and stayed there--I became very, very aware that MinHo was a man.

And suddenly I felt shy and couldn’t think of anything to say which was odd because only a few minutes earlier I’d been rambling his ear off. I couldn’t meet his eyes either. Plus I felt hot even though it was perfectly comfortable in the restaurant.

Was this a date after all?

I couldn’t figure out what was going on inside me. The only thing I knew was none of this had been going on before his knees had touched mine. So I fidgeted in my seat thinking that if I broke the contact between us things inside me would go back to normal.

And things were fine until I made the mistake of making eye contact with MinHo who asked, “Are you okay HyeYeong?”

“Yeah. I’m perfectly fine,” I said in a voice that was higher pitched than my normal one. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” he said, those brown orbs searching my face in a manner I found infinitely alarming. “You look kind of. . . flushed.”

That’s when I had the brilliant idea of looking at my watch and saying, “Oh my! Would you look at the time? I’d better get going. I have an early lesson scheduled tomorrow morning so I need a good night’s sleep.”

I got the impression that MinHo would have preferred to do something more with the evening, like walk by the river or browse the night market stalls, but not me. I wanted to get home, and get there fast. Because at home I’d be safe from whatever this feeling was that was welling up inside of me.

Saturday mornings were my cleaning days, so when I opened my door YunHee found me with my hair up in an ajumma scarf and an apron on holding a broom.

“Lee YunHee. What are you doing here?” This was my first time seeing or conversing with her since the night she’d given me the cold shoulder at the theater.

“I was so bored just sitting at home all alone and the girls are all busy this morning so I thought, ‘It’s Saturday so I know HyeYeong has off of work. I should go over and see her.’ So here I am! Do you want any help cleaning?” Her words came out rushed and had an air of rehearsal. Helping me clean was definitely not her motive for coming to see me.

I stared in disbelief and decided to play along with her. “You? Clean? Wow! You must really be bored!”