The scanner at the cash register beeped as one by one the items were scanned and bagged. The ahjumma, who was scanning, looked at him skeptically. No doubt he looked as if he would never touch the ice cream in the carton or even have a use for the green froggy sleeping mask. Hyun Joong sighed patiently and tried to remember when he'd last purchased so much at one time.

"40,000 ₩ ."

Never, was the answer. He handed over the cash and picked up his bags. He thought about heading home, then decided to get one more thing.

.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .  

I heard the apartment door open, and I wriggled out from behind the bed. I didn't know why I had the urge to write in secret, but at least this way I could feel like something was still private. I still couldn't believe I'd spilled out my past and dreams to him all in the course of two weeks. My face heated up again with memories of a blurry man standing in front of me while a tear-streaked voice related an embarrassing story from the 5th grade. I could still remember when he let me catch on that he knew a lot more than I thought he did. 

.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .  

It was when I'd just woken up from a nap when he came in with one of the daily food deliveries. I continued to lie in bed as he set the tray of food on the table and waited for him to leave. When he just stepped back and stood there, I was puzzled. I sat up and looked at him. "What? Are you going to watch me eat now?" When he didn't reply, I gave up and grabbed the tray. "Fine."
I was about to take a bite of the food when I realized something. Next to the platter of kimbap was a small bowl of limes. I swallowed as I felt my cheeks flush. 

"Yah! Yah! I told you she wouldn't be able to eat it!" The pudgy boy gestured at the small crowd gathered on the grass. "Kim Ji Eun, you owe me 20,000 ₩ !"

"No! Chamkanman! I'll eat it!" She waved her hands desperately and steeled herself. She needed that money. How else would she be able to pay for halmoni's birthday present? The crowd whooped as she bit into the first lime, skin and all. And they continued as she polished off the fifth and sixth. Holding back the urge to throw up, she held out her hand, still dripping with juice from the limes. "Where's my money?" 

At first he just looked at her, dumbfounded. Then slowly a smirk grew on his face. "Ha! You want money? Look at that. She went through all this trouble just to get a few won! That's pathetic. Look at your face! Everyone, look at the poor girl!" 

Slowly his taunting caught on and started to spread to the rest of the onlookers. Undaunted, though, she continued to stand there, her hand outstretched, waiting for her money. It was thrown at her feet after the teacher made everyone disperse. It was five months before she could even look at a lime, and she was reminded of the incident for the rest of elementary. 

And that's why I don't eat limes. . . 

The limes had given me a flashback, and the phrase stood out in my memory. But, had I really told him that? I looked up to find him staring at me. "You tell good stories," he said simply, then walked out.