Page 48 of Somewhere Only We Know
As we walked I thought of what Lucky said on the ferry. That she liked me. There was a Korean word for that sort of confession but I couldn’t remember it.
“Hey, what’s the word in Korean? When you confess your feelings for someone?” I asked.
“Gobaek.” She paused. “Isn’t it interesting that Koreans have a specific word for that? Because we understand that even saying you like someone is meaningful. In America, the moment is sealed by like, sex or some dramatic love confession. But in Korea, ‘I like you.’ That’s a big deal.”
“Wow, you’re being very subtle about this right now,” I said, with a smile, so she knew I wasn’t bothered by it. “I get it, girl. It was important.”
She shoved me with our clasped hands. “Well, is it though? We’re not going to see each other again.”
We both knew this was true from the beginning. But hearing it said out loud… Some invisible clock in my brain started its countdown.
There was still so much to learn about Lucky. How and why did she get into K-pop? I hoped I had enough time to find out.
“You don’t know that we’ll never see each other again,” I said lightly.
She glanced at me as we walked by a store packed floor to ceiling with pots and pans. “We live in different countries.”
“Within the manageable continent of Asia.”
“Are you saying,” she said with a laugh, “that you would visit me in Korea? After one day together?”
I shrugged. “You never know what the future holds!” It was meant to be glib but Lucky’s expression was serious.
“I know my future,” she said in a calm voice, resolute but also resigned.
“Church choir forever?” I teased.
We let go of each other’s hands to step around an old lady sitting on a stool, fanning herself on the sidewalk.
“Something like that.” Lucky reached for my hand again. “When you commit to something like choir, you commit to a life that’s kind of different from everyone else’s.”
She had to know that sounded weird. But it was also vulnerable. So I let my guard down, too. “I hope I get to see you again.”
The words were out there in the world and I couldn’t take them back.
She slowed her steps and didn’t look at me right away, as if turning the words over in her mind. Examining them.
My palm grew sweaty in hers.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
LUCKY
Seriously, though, why was it such a big deal to show me that you like me, Jack? The slickness of his palms really drove the point home. This is the most noncommittal fling you’ll ever have, bucko. Thank your lucky stars.
“Cool, now we can acknowledge thesuffocatingsexual energy that you’ve been giving off all day,” I declared.
He laughed, almost running into two guys pushing a cart full of metal rebar. “You’re the one giving me hornball eyes,” he responded.
I thought of the warmth from his fingers as he pushed them into my wrist, the flash of his teeth before he bit into the unspooling thread. This shameless jerk. “You mended my clothingwith your mouth. Don’t even.”
I waited for a blush but it never came. Instead, it was that stupid, slow smile. “It was a matter of practicality.”
“Oh, shut up.” But I smiled back, and there we were. Two smiling fools, holding hands, walking down a busy street. This was something I dreamed about. The love songs I sang, the bumping and grinding, the moon eyes I made—it was all hinting at this feeling.
As we walked, I noticed a lot more women in hijabs, schoolboys speaking Arabic, and halal restaurants the farther we went. “Oh my gosh, can we get good shawarma here?” I asked.
Jack nodded. “Oh yeah.”
