Page 51 of Somewhere Only We Know
It wasn’t arrogant or anything. Just… a person who knew who she was. Envy trickled through me, icy and sudden. It was rare to see someone my age so sure of herself.
“Maybe one day I could hear one of your songs,” I said.
She raised an eyebrow before standing up in one smooth, athletic motion. “In this fantasy future where you visit me in Seoul?”
Before I could respond, she reached down and tugged me up to standing. I was surprised by it, she was stronger than she looked. When I stood, we were facing each other—very close.
I pushed the book into her chest. “Did you want me to buy this for you, too?”
She glanced down at it. “Nah. I already have a lot of copies.”
“You were reading stuff you’ve already read?”
“Yup. When I like something, Ilikeit.” She turned around, headed to the café, and for some reason those words quickened my pulse, made me feel overheated.
Before I could recover, Lucky hollered from across the bookstore, near the adjoining café. “Can we get some of this food?”
I laughed. “Feed the beast.”
“Always.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
LUCKY
We sat down to some milk tea, a Hong Kong specialty according to Jack. A plate of cookies was brought alongside them, and I grabbed one.
“Tell me about your parents,” I said before I bit into it. It was my time to question him for once.
His eyes widened. “Okay, cutting to the chase, I guess.”
“It’s only a few steps after, ‘when and where were you born,’ which I already happen to know.” Los Angeles. The coincidence of that still baffled me. “What do they do?” I paused. “I mean, if they’re both still alive.” Why did I even say that? So morbid.
Jack slid his hand over and grabbed a cookie chunk, his hand grazing mine. A tiny firework went off where our skin touched.Poof.
He let out a short laugh. “Yes, they’re still alive. Well, my momstays home and my dad is a banker, like I mentioned before,” he said, popping the cookie into his mouth.
“Oh, cool. There does seem to be a lot of banking here,” I said feebly. Genius observation, Lucky. “So do you like interning at the bank?”
“I pretty much hate it,” he said, dunking another piece of cookie into his tea. His tone was light.
“That sucks,” I said. “Well, it’s only temporary until college, right?”
Before he could respond, he knocked his cup of tea over, the milky liquid pouring to his side of the table, dripping into his lap.
I jumped up. “Oh no!”
Jack made an annoyed sound and stood up, wiping his shirt off where the tea splattered. “Sorry, I’m gonna go wipe this off,” he said as he pushed his chair away from the table.
“Okay.” I reached across to mop up the tea with a napkin and was joined by Sissi, who came over with a rag.
“Thanks,” I said to her with a smile.
She nodded in response. “Hey, maybe he needs a new shirt?” she said, half question, half statement. “We have some nerdy literary shirts in our gifts section.”
“Ooh,” I said, tapping my fingers against each other. “I’ll go take a look.”
The gift section was pushed back into the corner of the shop, as if the shop were reluctant to hawk non-books among its precious literary tomes. I sifted through a rack of soft cotton T-shirts emblazoned with vintage book covers, illustrations of glasses, cats, etc.
