They ended up in a park, standing in front of his car, the hood littered with takeout containers and other junk food she couldn’t even put a name to. The night was chilly and moist, giving the surrounding foliage an eery look despite his halogen headlights keeping the area bright. Claire risked a peek into one of the clamshell boxes, poking the “Philly cheesesteak” with her index finger. Of course she’d heard of them before, they were available on just about every food truck in California, but she’d never expected the real thing to be so…big. Daniel laughed when he noticed what must have been her horrified expression.

    “It won’t bite you. Besides, there’s nothing better than an authentic Philly steak sandwich,” he said, picking up his own and tearing into it. Claire watched him, instinctively wanting to reach out and wipe the excess cheese from his chin but finding the strength to refrain. She passed him a napkin and he cleaned himself up. “Try it. If you don’t like it, you can fail me.”

    “Promise?” she asked absentmindedly. She was a big girl, figuratively and literally, she could handle a freaking sandwich. But, part of her didn’t want to risk looking like a pig in front of Daniel, a thought she by right shouldn’t be having. He was just a student, what did it matter what he thought of her? Before she could close the box and make up some excuse about not being hungry, he turned his sandwich and aimed it for her face. 

    “C’mon. Say aah,” he said, his smile bright despite the melted cheese and onions that escaped the roll and slid onto his hand. Her face lit up with a blush, but she did it, leaning forward to take a bite. He didn’t pull away until she was chewing happily and scurrying for a napkin to clean her face. He laughed as he wiped his hands. “See? It’s good, right?” 

    “Yes, I’ll give you that. It’s better than I expected.” She took a swig of her shake and swallowed hard. Daniel laughed at her again and she gave him a faux glare. “When did you discover Pat’s King of Steak? Have you lived here long?”

    “About three years, actually. I found Pat’s while out looking for decent food in this town. I was born in Korea if that’s what you were going to ask next. South, Korea,” he said pointedly. Claire rolled her eyes. 

    “For your information I wasn’t going to ask. That would be prying.”

    “By all means, pry away. There are tons of things I want to ask you, too.” Like why I can’t stop thinking about you. “How about this, we’ll take turns asking each other questions,” he said, pitching his soiled napkin into one of the empty paper bags. “I’ll go first. Where are you from?”

    “Southern California. San Marcos to be exact. But I was born in Vietnam, if that’s what you were going to ask next,” she teased. He grinned. 

    “Actually, I was. I always wanted to ask you about your heritage but I didn’t want to seem rude,” he said. Claire glanced away from him, suddenly very interested in a couple that strolled down one of the bike trails. It’d been quite some time since she’d thought about where she came from and she didn’t know if now was the time to be getting all teary-eyed and remorseful. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want, Professor Lanh.”

    “No, it’s okay,” she chuckled nervously, waving her hands in protest. “My dad was from Vietnam. My mom was African-American and was born and raised smack in downtown Chicago.”

    “Ah, Chi-Town. Nice place,” he said and she gave him a look. Daniel laughed. “Where are your parents now?”

    “Well, my dad was a military man. He…passed away not long after I was born, during the Iran–Iraq war while fighting in Kuwait. My mother,” she paused, toying with one of the styrofoam containers, “she disappeared after she dropped me off with my dads parents. I never saw her again.”

    “I’m…” he started, unable to find the words to express his condolences. Here he was pissed at his parents for sending him away and she’d barely even known hers, “I’m sorry to hear that. It must have been tough for you growing up. Did you have any siblings?”

    “Nope, just me,” she chuckled. “What about you? Conversations usually involve give and take. I’ve given–”

    “And now you intend to take. I must say, I like this side of you, Professor,” he said and she gave him a scolding glare. “My parents are back home in Korea. I believe they live in Seoul now but it’s been a while since I’ve talked to them. I’ve lived in the States since I was thirteen…pretty much raised by my aunt and uncle. I had one elder brother but…” he cut himself off. Claire instantly noticed a change in his tone and looked up at him. His teeth were clenched, his hands in the pockets of his jacket. Either he hated his brother or something horrible had happened. Either way, she knew better than to ask. 

    “I was raised by my grandparents in Cali. They own a little laundromat out there that I worked in every single day while I was in school. I can’t tell you how many times I got picked on for smelling like laundry detergent and burning lint,” she chuckled to herself. Daniel glanced at her, enjoying the way the glow of the street lamps played in her eyes. She’d deflected the conversation so he wouldn’t have to talk about his brother. Which was sweet of her. He knew he shouldn’t think more of something so simple, but in that moment he wanted to take a deep breath and just believe that she cared about him. That he wasn’t just another student, even though he was. “I’d probably still be working there if I hadn’t landed this job at St. Lucia.”