slowly opening

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The day of the beach, Hugh spent the entire time at my house. We ended up just eating, talking, and watching Crash Landing on You. But before he left, at around half past midnight, he told me that an "All-You-Can-Eat" Korean barbecue place just opened up since the city's slowly reopening again.

"I know we just had it a couple days ago," is what he said.

And I replied with, "No, no. I wanna go."

And in the end, we decided to have dinner together the following day. 

.

.

.

.

.

"We usually go here," Hugh starts, stopping the engine and pulling up his mask. "Before the quarantine and all. Personally, this place is my favorite. I hope you'll like it, too."

"As long as it has good meat—" I get out of the car—"then I'll like it. I'm not that picky of an eater."

He smiles. "That's good to hear."

We walk side-by-side towards the restaurant, my hands fisted inside the pockets of my sweatshirt. 

"To be honest, I thought you were going to be picky," I say, looking up at him. "You and your mom don't seem like the type to eat intestines."

He laughs. "Yeah, I could see that. I don't eat it as much as Mom does, but I like it."

I grin as we both enter into the restaurant, a place I haven't been in months, even before the quarantine. An asian man with a mask greets us, asking us how many are going to eat and if we were going to use the grill. He asks for the information they usually ask in a restaurant before the quarantine hit, but before he let us in, he also asked us if we've experienced any of the symptoms of the new plague. We replied "no," of course, but then he preceded to take our temperature. 

It's different from before. Very different.

I could tell the world is changing.

But I don't know if it's changing for the better... 

Or for the worse.

The man leads us into a small booth, a few tables away from another family eating there. The place is pretty "packed" for social distancing, and the employees here are very efficient in practicing hygiene, cleaning and scrubbing tables and chairs after customers leave. There are also many sanitizing stations spread out across the restaurant, accompanied by hand wipes and napkins.

"Do you know what you want to order?" Hugh asks, looking down at the placemat which held the meats this establishment offers. "We usually get Bulgogi, pork belly, and intestines first."

I nod. "Yeah, let's get that." I look down at the menu. "Could you add the thin brisket and a steamed egg as well?"

Hugh smiles and calls for the waiter, ordering our meats. While we wait, the waiter brings us our water and side dishes.

"It's nice that we can eat out again," Hugh starts, pouring my glass of water before his. "Now that it's open, we should do this more often."

"I'd like that," I reply, sipping my cup of water. "I'd rather eat out than eat at home." 

"Well, eating out too much is bad for you, Clara," Hugh says. 

"It's better than eating alone," I answer, deciding to change the subject. "Anyways, how's school?"

Hugh snickers. "You sound like my mom."

"When do you get out?"

"In a week," he answers, his eyes looking up to remember. "On the twelfth, I think."

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