Page 52 of A World Apart
Silence fell between us. I wanted to say something about what had happened back there, but I didn’t know how to articulate what I was feeling. I must have opened and closed my mouth half a dozen times without actually saying anything.
“I’m sorry about that,” Jihoon said, breaking the silence. I looked up at him in surprise.
“What do you have to be sorry about?”
He scuffed his foot back and forth along the pavement as he stared back at the pier behind me, the noise of the fairground distant, but the memory of the girls chasing him still close by.
“I didn’t want to run,” he admitted, his voice low. “But you were right. We can’t be photographed together.”
It was true, I knew it was. Hell, I’d even said as much. So why did it sting when he said it? It was just another reminder of all those good reasons to not take this – whatever this was – any further.
He shoved his hands into his pockets, his gaze darting anywhere but at me. With his face hidden by the shade of his hat and sunglasses, I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but there was a palpable tension in the air between us.
“Do you need to leave?” My voice wavered at the end, barely audible over the sounds of people chattering and laughing around us.
Jihoon looked up at me, tilting his head as if weighing his next words carefully. “Do you want to leave?”
“No,” I said quickly. “I mean, not unless you want to.”
“I don’t want to.”
I smiled. Just a quick, giddy sort of smile, but it lifted my mood immeasurably and, perhaps less obviously, it brought an unexpected burst of relief. The kind of relief you get when you pass a test you expected to fail.
“Do you want to walk? The beach isn’t too busy.” I hooked a thumb over my shoulder and he nodded, so almost in unison, we both turned and started walking towards the beach.
It was a sunny afternoon, but too cold for most LA natives. I almost laughed out loud when we walked past one guy wearing a scarf.
Jihoon looked down at me and smiled, “What’s funny?”
Instead of answering directly, I asked, “Do you think it’s cold today?”
“Cold?” He seemed to think about it for a moment. “No. Are you cold? We can go somewhere inside…” he swung his head around, presumably looking for indoor locations. I laughed, holding my hand over my face to hide how cute I thought he was.
“No,” I said, waving my hand. “I was laughing because everyone else seems to think this is a cold day. Back home, this is a mild day.”
“Ah,” he nodded. “Seoul is the same.”
“Really?” I was surprised.
Jihoon nodded again. “In summer it gets really hot, much hotter than this, but spring is mild.”
“I’d love to see it, someday,” I said, without really thinking.
“I hope you do,” he said, ducking his head down and for some reason, I feel my cheeks heating.
We walked like that for a while, making small talk. The sound of the waves our constant companion, even though the sea was still quite far out. The beach wasn’t full − only a few dedicated surfers and families with young kids. Runners and cyclists created a steady flow of traffic along the path bordering the beach, but no one looked twice at us. We were just another faceless couple strolling along the Santa Monica Beach.
We’d just passed Palisades Park when my stomach gave a very insistent growl. I laughed and put a hand over it, embarrassed. “I guess breakfast and doughnuts were a long time ago.”
Jihoon grinned and nodded, “I’m hungry too.” He glanced around for a moment before looking back at me. “Wait here, I’ll be right back” He jogged away before I could say anything. Stunned, I watched as he ran over to a small beach-side eatery a little further up.
“Well, alright then,” I muttered to myself before I sat my happy ass down in the sand.
There were fewer people out here now. Perhaps they’re all heading home for their dinner, I mused as I looked out at the waves. Not so distant now, the tide was definitely coming in.
Jihoon didn’t keep me waiting long. He sat down beside me, pulling off his hat and sunglasses. With a triumphant flourish, he unpacked the brown paper bag. I moaned in appreciation as I saw the thickly stacked burgers, chips and sachets of sauces.
“And I have beer,” he crowed happily, pulling out two green, glass bottles from his pockets.
