𝖷1 𝖨𝗆𝖺𝗀𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖲𝗁𝗈𝗋𝗍 𝖲𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌

4. Dinner Over At The Moons

There was a jovial atmosphere in the dinning room as my family entertained our guest during dinner.

"Minhee, I swear you get taller each time I see you," my dad tells him with a relaxed smile. "What, are you 6'0" now?"

"5'11" actually, and still growing," the boy said proudly.

"Unbelievable," my dad shakes his head and turns it to look at my mom, "I'm sure he was shorter than me last time I saw him."

"Well, that was two years ago, Honey," my mom responds to him.

There's an easiness in the air.

"I guess that's true," dad says. He gives Minhee an appraising look.

The boy takes a second to peer over at me. His eyebrows rise in a smug expression. He knew he had my parents in the palm of his hand. A genuine sweetheart to parents.

Perfect son-in-law material.

As if there was even a possibility of that happening!

"So, how are your studies coming along? Do you know what you are going to do after high school?" My dad asks, digging for more reasons to like the kid.

"I'm actually one of the top students in my school."

My eyes roll.

Of course he would take the chance to promote himself in the highest regard.

"Good. I'm sure you'll have a whole bunch of medical school options when the time comes," my dad smiles as he stares down at his plate.

My eyes dart to Minhee. There was an uncertainty in his facial expression. His content smile he had had all dinner, wavered for a second.

"Right," he states quietly.

My parents didn't seem to notice this.

"You could learn a lot from him, Jiah," my mom tells me.

Minhee just chuckles.

He's enjoying this way too much.

"Learn what? How to kiss up to people?" I say out loud for everyone to hear.

Minhee gives me a faux annoyed look.

"Jiah! Be kind to our guest," my mom scolds me.

"Yeah, Jiah, be nice to your guest," Minhee rests his arms on the tabletop.

"Minhee, sweetie, no elbows on the table." My mom tells him. He quickly removes them.

"Sorry, Mrs. Moon," he apologizes.

"Yeah, Minhee, don't put your elbows on the table." I mimic him.

"I just can't take the two of you. When will you stop your bickering?" My dad questions.

This has been an on-going thing for years now. I'm sure my parents are over it. In fact, probably all the adults in our lives felt that way. Minhee and I just don't get along. And that's that.

"When I'm dead."

My parents didn't appreciate that remark but Minhee did. Nodding along in agreement.

Once we finished, my mom began cleaning up the table. Minhee offered to help and thus I was dragged into the clean up mission myself.

"Quit it, would you?" I complain as Minhee let another plate spray water on me.

"I'm sorry," he says with a laugh, "I'm not trying to."

He looked down at me with humor in his eyes. We stood next to each other in silence. Sink running, hands soaked.

"Wasn't sure you even knew how to do the dishes," I comment playfully.

"I know how to do a lot of things," he says suggestively.

I elbow his side. "You're disgusting."

"I didn't mean it like that!" He defends himself.

"Mhm, I'm sure you didn't."

"No, but seriously I didn't mean it like that." We continue doing the dishes. "There's a lot you don't know about me that you'd find fascinating."

"I find that doubtful."

It's been six, agonizing, years, what do I not know about him that I should know?

I know enough.

"For example, I'm great at washing dishes," Minhee says seriously. I can't help but snort out a laugh.

"That is fascinating."

We fall into a content stifled laughter.