Vera Martinez has never dated. (Leaving out her seven minutes in heaven with a boy from fourth grade). All she's ever known about relationships and love are from the books she reads and old films she watches.
Until, in her English literature class...
Not a single word was spoken between us. Nathan had the windows down. Not even the stereo was on. A tensed silence hung in the air between us.
In my mind, I was thinking of ways to bring up today's outburst. I've been staring down at my hands - worried that if I did will that upset Nathan more. I've taken quick glances at him. One hand on the wheel as his arm rests on the edge of the window. His hand constantly rubbing his chin.
What was he thinking? Why did that Eunjin call him that name? Did they have a history together? Were they friends? More than friends?
I look out the window. I shouldn't worry about these things. Even if they had something between them, it shouldn't matter. Should it? Nathan didn't look happy when he saw her. Eujin, otherwise, she was happy to see him. As if her whole world stood right in front of her.
Looking down at my hands, all these unnecessary thoughts began to cloud my mind. All ideas that probably weren't even related to the topic unlocked. Suddenly I saw Nathan's hand grab mine and interwines our fingers. I slowly look up to glance at him. Nathan glances quickly with a small reassuring smile.
"You've been awfully quiet," he says.
"I don't know what to say," I say softly.
Nathan cleans his throat. The creases between his eyebrows soften a bit.
"It's my Korean name," Nathan tells me. "Back home I'm known as Park Junseok, Nathan is my American name."
"Oh," I whisper out. "And Eunj-"
"She doesn't matter." He says quickly, cutting me off. "How the fuck did she know I was here?"
The last part wasn't indicated towards me. Nathan thought it out aloud. Silence built up again. I look down at our hands. My heart could sing out aloud, but my mind wasn't allowing it to do so. Our hands looked complete together. Like a puzzle. His large hand dominating my not-so-small hand. I trace one of Nathan's tattoo. A detailed inked image of a serpent that snaked around his wrist, up his forearm and ended at his elbow.
"Do I call you Junseok?" I ask not looking up.
"No," he answers quickly. "You're only to call me Nathan."
"Okay."
"Vera," Nathan begins.
The car stops. I look up at the red light before turning my attention to Nathan. He removes his hand from my grasp. It moves to trace the side of my face. His thumb moves across my forehead, creasing out the worried lines.
"You don't need to worry about this," he says.
I only nod. Nathan smiles - a pearly white grin that contained to make me smile a little.
"There she is," he coos. "Are you ready to fill yourself up with Korean BBQ?"
"I'm ready."
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