Jong In's mother was extremely nice. She was also extremly beautiful, clearly the parent to thank for Jong In's good looks, along with his height. I wondered for a moment what genetics he got from his father, but didn't let my mind stay on the topic for too long. 

She offered to take us out to lunch, which we both agreed to readily. Or at least I did, Jong In's acceptance was more an act of resignation to his fate. The place she took us to wasn't too fancy, seeing as both she and her son were still dressed in their dance clothing. Not that either of them looked bad. They both had the kind of face and bodies to make almost anything look good on them. Both beautiful, tall, and muscled. Lean muscle, but muscle none the less. 

I tried not to focus too much on how I was short, kind of pretty, and had more visible fat on my body than muscle.

"Now I don't usually condone eating in places like this because they're so unhealthy and dancers have to take good care of their body, but today is a special occasion," Ms. Kim said after we arrived, mother voice activated. "So, tell me more," she said after we got our food and sat down. "I know you two were in the same class together, but what actually started the talking? Sat next to each other? Worked on an assignment together? What?"

"This feels like an interogation," Jong In lightly complained, seeming to be less embarrassed and put out by the situation.

"I need to learn everything I can while I've got you here," Ms. Kim defended herself. "I'm so busy with the studio and you're busy with school and your friends that I barely get to talk to you about anything. I was so suprised when you told me you had a girlfriend and had already been dating her for almost a week."

At this Jong In shot a glance at me, raising and eye brow which I resolutely pretended I did not see.

"What was the look for?" Ms. Kim asked glancing curiously between the two of us.

"What look?" Jong In asked innocently.

"You just gave her a look when I made that comment of how long you were dating," Ms. Kim said.

"I didn't mean to," he answered back. She gave him a look that said "don't lie to me, I gave birth to you" and he continued on, the traitor. "It's just that Soo Young's parents didn't find out until we had been dating for about two weeks."

"Two weeks?" she repeated, eyes wide, as she turned to look at me.

I nodded, feeling the echoes of guilt from before coming back up in me.

"Why in the world did you wait that long to tell them?"

"I was just nervous to," I said, almsot mumbling, staring down at the table, feeling slightly ashamed. "But they know now, and it's all okay."

She shot Jong In a look, which he responded to with a nod. I was a little suprised at how well they comunicated without words, just looks, because that was something I wasn't very good at. I struggled to read the facial expressions of people I knew well. You'd think I'd be better at it, as someone who prefers observing people rather than interacting with them. Then again, interacting with them is probably the kind of practice a person would need to be good at that.

"Well, I guess as long as they know and they're okay with it," Ms. Kim conceded, face relaxing.

"They do, they like him," I said, wanting to make sure she understood that there was nothing fishy about this relationship and that there was nothing she needed to worry about.

"They like him?" Ms. Kim asked, at attention again. She shifted her questioning face from me to Jong In. "You've met them?"

"You know I've met them," Jong In answered non-chalantly after he'd finished chewing his food, sounding like this was something that happened a lot, him reminding his mother of something she already knew. "I told you when I did. We bumped into her mom while I was walking Soo Young home and then she invited me in for dinner, where I met the rest of Soo Young's family."

Ms. Kim stared at Jong In for a moment, who had taken another bite and stared at her, waiting.

"Oh!" Ms. Kim said after a couple of seconds, to which Jong In nodded his head, seeming to have remembered the conversation. "I remember now. I remember."

"Her memory's not very good," Jong In said to me. "She forgets everything."

"Not everything," Ms. Kim defended herself. "I just have so much going on in my head that sometimes things just don't stick very well."

"Like everything," Jong In .

"No," she said, shooting Jong In another look while a slightly exasperated smile appeared on her face. "Not everything."

"Just everything I say," Jong In continued to prod.

"That is not true Kim Jong In."

"Whatever," he countered, taking another bite of his food.

"You are a mess."

"You raised me this way."

"Oh my gosh." Ms. Kim rolled her eyes at this point. "Is he like this with you?" she asked me.

I nodded.

"That is not true Im Soo Young," Jong In said, turning to me, looking like a wounded animal. "I am always a perfect gentleman to you."

"'Tell me I'm the world's best dancer.'" I repeated his words from last night. "'Tell me I'm the best. Tell me I'm the world's best dancer.'"

"I was just trying to get you to say the truth," he said, pouting.

"'Truth'?" Ms. Kim questioned incredulously. "You still have a lot to learn."

"But I'm still pretty amazing."

"Amazingly big headed."

This time it was Jong In who shot his mother a look.

"My how the tables have turned," she said, smiling smugly at him.

"I need to go use the restroom," Jong said, standing up. "Do not poison her against me."

"I wouldn't dream of it," she told him as he walked off, shooting her one last distrustful look before dissappearing into the bathroom.

I took another bite of my food, chewing as we sat in amicable silence at first.

"You know," Ms. Kim began, "It hasn't always been like this."

Confused, I didn't comment, waiting on her to explain more.

"Ever since my divorce with my husband, Jong In's father, things have been hard. On the both of us," she said, suddenly looking so tired, as though she had just gotten off from a 24 hour shift covering for Atlas. "When it happened, it was just me, him, and my youngest daughter living together. My oldest had already moved out, married. We held it together pretty well, at first. Probably because my daughter was there as a buffer for me and Jong In. But then she moved out, and neither of us had ever really gotten over the divorce." Here she paused before continuing. "For a long time, I think we took our stress and anger and anxiety out on eachother." 

I didn't even know what to feel. There were too many emotions floating up to the surface, but none of them broke through. My mind was having issues processing, understanding. The compassion came easily, while sympathy was something that wouldn't come because I couldn't relate. Empathy was proving to be the hardest out of the three. I wanted to understand her feelings, and Jong In's too, knew I should, but I was having issues wrapping my mind around it. I couldn't begin to imagine what it would be like for a parent or a husband to just up and leave, not wanting to be connected to you in anyway, abandoning everything, even the things that were most sacred, the things most in need of protecting.

I couldn't imagine holding someone in your heart, and them tearing their way out and walking away, not looking back as they leave the shredded pieces on the ground to bleed out. Like it was some sort of prison or cage to break free of when you had only meant for it to be a blanket when you placed it on their shoulders to keep them warm.

It was something I had never experienced. I had made sure of that.

It suddenly hit me that it was a very real possibility for me, now, though.

"Recently," Ms. Kim continued, her voice much livelier, less heavy, "something changed." She looked me in the eyes, smiling brightly. "One day he just came home and appologized. After he said he was sorry, it was like something cracked, or something was healed." She shrugged. "I realized the way we had been living was so pointless. We were two miserable people working to make the other more miserable, all while believing we were the most miserable. But there was nothing to be gained from that, and only everything to lose." A haunted look entered her eyes, but then it was gone and she was smiling again. "As a mother, I should have done better for my son. He shouldn't have needed to be the one to appologize first. He shouldn't have needed to appologize at all. He's my son, and he needed me. It doesn't matter that I'm only human, when you become a parent, you have to give up that kind of weakness."

Again, I wasn't sure how to respond. I wanted to tell her she was wrong, and to not be so hard on herself, and that everything looked like it was okay now. I knew she wouldn't listen, though, and maybe I was wrong. I'm only sixteen, what do I know about parenting, really?

She glanced towards the bathroom, and when she didn't see Jong In returning yet, continued on.

"I suppose I have you to thank for all this," she said, sniffing. "You must have said something to him. So thank you."

"It wasn't like that," I cut her off before she could say anymore, not wanting to take credit where credit wasn't really due. "That happened before we started talking."

"Oh," she said, seeming to be completely blindsided. "I just assumed-"

"I mean, in a way it was something I said, but not in the way you think." She still didn't understand of course, and waited for me to elaborate. "He told me that he had overheard me talking to one of my friends. Well, I was actually lecturing her, really. She was arguing with her mom and was complaining to me about it, and I got mad and told her she was actually the one in the wrong. I don't really remember what I said, but Jong In said it really stuck with him and he thought about it and that was when he appologized to you. So I can't really take credit. I'm sure I didn't really say anything profound, probably something he had heard before , but just in a way he understood better. And I wasn't saying it to him. Jong In overheard it and thought about it and applied it to his own situation. He came to the conclusions he had on his own and his decision to act was made on his own. I really didn't do anything, so there's no reason to thank me."

Ms. Kim studied me after I finished talking, folding her arms and leaning back in her chair. I felt uncomfortable, being scrutinized so closely, but I hadn't regretted saying what I had. I didn't want her thinking I had done something great and thanking me when I really hadn't done much at all. It was all Jong In. 

"Can I at least thank you for making him happy?"

I was speechless. My brain processing the sentence only one word at a time. Something grew in my heart, like a flower blooming. I let the words sit in my head, not worrying about credit or deserving them, but just let my mind hold the weight of what they were. Even though they were weightless, floating inside me, like there were balloons tied to them, keeping them from the ground, from being soiled by the dirt.

I noticed Ms. Kim smiling at me, and I realized it was because I was smiling at her. My vision blurred for a moment, but I quickly reigned that in, not wanting to ruin the moment with tears, even if they were leaking out from joy.

"He's been so much... brighter these past few weeks. Now, I'm not saying you're the whole reason for it," she said, though she was still smiling. "I've put in a lot of effort myself, and so have his sisters and brother-in-law and nieces and nephew, and his friends, too, I'm sure, but I am saying that you're a big part of it."

It was at that moment that Jong In came out of the bathroom, walked back to the table looking like he didn't have a care in the world, and sat back down in the seat next to me.

"What'd I miss?" he asked, looking between me and his mom.

"Everything," Ms. Kim answered, smiling at me.