I led him to the nearby town village. There was a stand that sold fantastic dukbokki, as well as kimchi soup. The couple who ran it also had a specialty sticky rice cake that I especially liked. It was weird walking on the streets with Kris. He attracted attention, something I definitely wasn’t used to.

            He hauled his book bag higher on his shoulder and followed quietly. I wondered why he would ask me to take him out. Maybe he was lonely and the other vultures just didn’t pique his interest. Maybe he knew he was safe with me; I wouldn’t ask questions.

            He caught me looking at him and even looked amused for a second. “What? Are you trying to size me up? See if I’m able to handle this spice that you’re threatening me with?”

            I blinked; he had a sense of humor. I shook my head. “I just don’t quite believe that you’re here with me.”

            “You and me both,” he admitted. For a second, it stung. So he didn’t really have any intentions of coming with me, or maybe it was a spur of the moment, rebellious decision. But then I shrugged it off. I wasn’t here for romance, and neither was he. Might as well keep it between friends.

            I led him to the stall and the couple greeted me happily. They pointed at Kris and asked boldly if he was my “significant other.” I could tell he couldn’t understand their dialect. When I mentioned that he was a foreigner, they looked at him with more interest. “Very handsome,” the older lady decided. “But can he stand our test?”

            I ordered two bowls of the dukbokki and her husband clamped Kris’ arm. “You take care of this lady.” Kris bowed, probably because that was the respectful thing to do, and I led him to a table. The nice part about this area was that with so many food stands, there were erected tables and benches for people to eat.

            I watched him first. He tore at the rice cake delicately, holding it between his teeth. I saw his little jolt of surprise. He wasn’t expecting it to be this spicy. He gamely continued eating and after watching him devour more, I started on my own plate. The taste was heavenly. I may have let out a tiny moan of pleasure and he looked at me.

            “It’s not as spicy as you promised.”

            In an entirely unladylike manner, I poked my chopsticks at him and spoke with my mouth slightly full. Who cares? He was going to remain a friend. “I saw your intake of surprise when you first ate it. Just you wait. I want you to finish the sauce too.”

            He ate, but kept his eyes on me as he did. That was embarrassing. I tried to slurp down the food, do anything to disgust him and turn his attention away but he continued staring. When I finished, I looked at his bowl. “Finish. You still have some left.”

            He brought the red bowl to his mouth and tilted the remainder of the contents into his mouth. “Ah, that was really good. You need to pay my compliments to them when we leave. Thank you.” There was a pause and then the obvious dawned on the two of us. He didn’t know my name.

            I laughed at the absurdity of the situation. “JoJo,” I supplied.

            He looked at me. “That’s not a Korean name.”

            “Kris is mighty American if you ask me,” I retorted.

            “Touché,” he conceded. But I had a strange inkling that I had touched a nerve. To make up for it, I launched into an explanation.

            “My real name is Jo Josung. But I’ve always been called JoJo. So call me JoJo. It’s like a forever attached thing, no big deal.” I shrugged.

            He nodded in understanding. “I see. Well, it’s cute. So, now that I have passed your spice test, what else do you have in mind?”

            I blinked. I hadn’t expected him to want to spend all his time with me. We sat there for a moment. “Well, what do you like to do? You like to draw right? I saw your portrait of me today. It was really well done. I didn’t realize I could inspire such talent,” he joked. “What else do you draw?”

            That was interesting. Normal people would immediately invade and demand to see my drawings. But he kept his distance. It’s almost as if he understood that sometimes an artist would like privacy. I was gaining new respect for this guy.

            “Well, I like nature, and people.”

            “I suppose people would be considered a part of nature.” But as he said this, his eyes were twinkling. Funny. I’ve always thought he had heavyset eyebrows. But when he smiled, they seemed to go up, and highlight how bright his eyes were.

            “Ha ha, you’re so very clever.” But a little part of me was falling for him. He stood up then and threw away our trash.

            “Come on, you still have class. I’ll walk you back to campus.”

            “Ah, there’s no need,” I declined. I wanted some time with my thoughts. “It’s probably out of the way.”

            He shrugged. “It’s not that bad. Halfway?”

            I looked at him and saw ahjumma gesturing from her cart. She was hopping up and down, desperate for me to say yes. I grinned. “I suppose I’ll have to. I think if I don’t, the next time I come, they’ll be poisoning my dukbokki.”

            Kris turned to smile at them. He saluted the couple and shouted a thank you that made the elderly lady pretend to swoon. I got up and followed him back through town and towards campus. I was scared to ask him anything about himself, so I let him ask me questions and I did all the talking.       

            I was jabbering and so scared he would want me to shut up. I gave him a hesitant look but the questions kept on coming. Did I grow up in Seoul? How many siblings did I have? What was my favorite color? When did I start drawing? I answered them, one by one, only vaguely aware that he was moving closer and closer.

            I didn’t dare to move my arms in case we touched and that would repel him. I didn’t want him to leave just yet. I kept my focus on our footsteps. He was so much taller than I am and every step he took, I had to take two and a little hop to catch up. He finally stopped and laughed a little.

            “Why do you keep jumping? Are you nervous?”

            “No,” I answered, unashamed. “You’re too tall. I have to catch up to you and hop a little bit.”

            He frowned and stared at me. “You’re right. You’re tiny!” The marvel in his voice was as if he had never noticed this before. “I’ll walk slower.” He offered.

            I shook my head. “It’s okay. Good cardio exercise.” He scoffed and held out a hand. I stared at it. The hesitation seemed to deplete his courage and he dropped it, placing it firmly in his pocket and I knew the offer had been rescinded. The moment was lost.

            He coughed a little and then I ventured to ask, “Tell me a little about yourself?”

            He almost didn’t seem to know where to begin. He kept stalling and we reached the campus. He turned abruptly and said, “Gotta go. I’ll see you in class tomorrow.” And then Kris was gone.

            I wouldn’t deny I felt a little off centered. The farewell was a little sudden, a little cleaved off the ends but I decided not to think too much. This was Kris. I suppose it was just something I’ll have to accept.