April Loves Black Coffee: First Impressions (39 page)

Sangwoo’s fingers dance across my chin as his lips, soft and controlling, press against my own. It is my first kiss. I have no idea what I am doing. All I can do is part my lips and let him take over. I am lost in Sangwoo’s embrace and the moment. He smells dangerous and mysterious. He is dangerous and dark. He is everything I need to stay away from. At the moment, I forget everything that’s happened and all the reservations I have for him.

I fight the tears that are forming in my eyes. The conversation will haunt me tonight. His simple question, “Have you ever lost someone?” will plague me to the world’s end. I wish I could tell Sangwoo the truth. I have lost someone. But no matter how I picture myself doing so, I am not ready to confide in him. It is too twisted and complicated. Most of all, I’m afraid that the reason why he is pursuing me is the same reason why I’m holding back my tongue.

Sangwoo doesn’t know I struggle with an internal secret behind the walls I’ve built over the years. It is nothing more than a mere memory, but deep down I am desperately running away from it all. It is my darkness. And when it’s time, when I’m ready, I’ll tell Sangwoo about it.

He and I share the same agonizing pain. So I close my eyes and let him kiss me, letting the moment fool us.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

F
alling head-over-heels for someone is a complicated concept. The challenge heightens when your potential sweetheart is a gang leader with a deep, dark past and therapeutic issue. I am not ignorant of this world that involves violence, turmoil, and disorder. I know that I am completely at a loss of what truly occurs in the treacherous world of Sangwoo and Mayhem. No ounce of creativity or imagination can conjure up the far-reaching reality. I am done with the guesses.

Sangwoo drives me back to my apartment. Dawn is breaking the horizon by the time I step out of the car. Shades of light orange and red streaks light the apartment complexes, providing a dreamy hue of colors. Sangwoo’s dark car is a stark contrast to the light.

“I’ll see you later May.” His tone is tight and arctic. Traces of the sensitive Sangwoo, the man I succumbed to just an hour earlier, are gone. The gang leader returns with his emotionless bearings and mysterious interest in me. There is a prickling light in his eyes as if we share a secret. If Sangwoo considers our kiss a tentative secret, it might as well be. We speak no more of any initiation contract or kiss.

“Bye.” I wave lightly to him. Sangwoo nods his head before the dark window consumes him. 

I know I have gone off on the deep end far too soon. I watch the car disappear around the bend feeling a slight sense of abandonment. Emotions and speculations riddle my entire being. I don’t know where we are going to go with what has manifested. I am weak. I went there to talk to Sangwoo about abolishing the initiation contract and ended up kissing him. My intuition has called it a night after using Lina’s term of slush for me. I am too stubborn for her to reason with.

I trudge into the apartment feeling empty and confused. The lingering sensation of Sangwoo’s kiss is on my lips. Although romantic and heart stopping, there was something missing in his embrace. As harsh as it sounds, it felt as though Choi Sangwoo was not kissing me. He was kissing Dead Girl. Even though it was my first kiss, ever, I know it wasn’t right. Sangwoo was kissing someone in the past, from his memory. The familiar prickling sensation
fires in my eyes as the realization hits me. I refuse to cry. I don’t want him. I don’t want him the way I thought I would want him.

Eunhye is sleeping when I make my way down the hallway. By the time I reach my room, I surrender to the harsh emotions. Pressing my face into my pillow, I let it out. All the frustration and hard emotions unleash from the depths of my soul. I cry and cry. I am a bundle of nerves and foreign emotions. I cry until the deep lulls of sleep consume me. I toss and turn, feeling warm one minute and cold the next. The exhaustion and restlessness catch up to me and before I know it, I drift into the darkness with pools of tears.

T
HE LOUD CHATTER IN THE
living room wakes me. The cadences of laughter ring between the walls. The early morning sunlight beams yellow and orange rays into my bedroom. I am warm and comfortable in my bed, nestled in with my pillows and blanket. I want to be in this state of limbo forever, but as my thoughts start to run from me I know I cannot lie in bed forever. I have things to do, decisions to make. 

I force myself out of bed with tousled hair. Bypassing the kitchen for now, I opt for the bathroom to brush my teeth and a thorough rinse of my face. The girl in the mirror is too gaunt and pale; her eyes are puffy and red.
You definitely fit in now.
My conscience tosses her tresses from her face. For the first time in a long time, I apply some light makeup to conceal my puffy red eyes. The miracle of Maybelline products masks my feelings of darkness and hopelessness for now. It is one more thing to keep my hands busy and thoughts away from Choi Sangwoo.

Absentmindedly, I travel into the living room to see Eunhye engaging in a rapid conversation with her best friend. 

“Well, look who’s finally awake.” My mother looks up from her cup of coffee. Eunhye’s hair sweeps out of her face in the usual dramatic manner. Her eyes are shining with excitement. “You got in very late last night.”

“It was the last day of work, so we celebrated afterwards.” I want to keep some type of partial truth going with my mother. I glance at the individual sitting to her right with his rightful cup of coffee. His kind eyes, hidden under heavy eyebrows, are smiling at me. Im Dongwan, or Mr. Im, is Eunhye’s childhood friend.

“A phone call or text message would have been nice,” Eunhye reminds me with a stiff tone.

“Good morning, May.” Mr. Im saves me. He is always dressed in some of the finest ensembles. In many ways, Mr. Im is a fashionista in his own right. Today is no different. He is in signature black slacks and a gray dress shirt. Mr. Im has dark black hair that he slicks back to reveal a prominent facial structure complete with a widow’s peak.

“Good morning Mr. Im,” I return his warm greeting. It’s been a month since I have seen Mr. Im, but he looks just as youthful. The man doesn’t age. “How are you?”

“I’m doing very well. Join us for coffee?” Mr. Im motions toward the coffee filter and my favorite coffee cup is already waiting.

“Sure.” I grin at him, wary of Eunhye’s speculative eyes. I know her motherly instinct is kicking in. I make my way through the living room and into the kitchen. The fear of Eunhye’s probing questions causes me to smile like a mindless zombie, feigning paper hearts and happiness. It’s better than having to explain the type of chaos I have conjured.

“Your mother tells me you’ve been quite the workaholic this summer.” Mr. Im doesn’t spare me a dull moment. We pick up where we left off last time. In many ways, I consider Mr. Im an uncle from another mother–literally.

“I’m just doing the best I can. I like keeping busy.” I pick up the coffee filter and pour myself a cup of coffee. The blatant smell stirs my senses, and for a fabricated minute, I am in a temporary moment of content.

“What I would give to be young again with that determination and energy.” Mr. Im flashes me that charming smile of his. “I see my nephew in her,” he tells Eunhye.

Nephew?
All of Mr. Im’s relatives are in the United States. He rarely talks about his family, so the mentioning of a nephew sparks my curiosity. Apparently, I am not the only one surprised by Mr. Im’s revelation.

Eunhye’s breath hitches with enthusiasm. “I can’t believe you have been hiding him from me. This nephew of yours is such an enigma. Where has he been?” The context of the conversation lets me know that this is the topic of the day.

Mr. Im faces Eunhye again. A quiet and subtle transition occurs. Now, I am the fly on the wall as the two of them engage in conversation. I hover to listen in on their conversation, half-conscious half-daydreaming.

“He is a world traveler or a nomad, whichever way you look at it. There isn’t anyone or anywhere that he’s particularly attached to. He’s been shuffling back and forth from Busan to Seoul for the past month. We keep in touch throughout the years, and whenever he’s back in town, he makes it a point to spend time with me.” Proud parades Mr. Im’s tone of voice.

“So he doesn’t have a place to call home?” Eunhye does little to hide her piqued interest.

“In America,” Mr. Im replies with a tentative facial expression as though he isn’t sure himself.

“And why haven’t we heard about this nephew of yours?” Eunhye gives her childhood friend the full inquisition.

He rewards her with an apologetic smile. “I don’t talk about that side of my family, you know that. They’re not the black sheep of the family. They’re actually the black herd.”

Eunhye lets out a laugh complete with head tossing and hand slapping. Mr. Im brings out the adolescent in her. “Since I have the afternoon off, I’ll make lunch and you can invite him over. I’d like to meet him.”

“Oh no. I don’t want to bother you,” Mr. Im protests. He catches my gaze and gives me a wink. We both know there is no such thing as refusing Eunhye.

“Nonsense! How long have we’ve known each other Dongwan? Bring him over. Besides, it’s just us today. We can have a late lunch,” Eunhye persists with her invitation. Her facial expression riddles with the threat of disappointment if Mr. Im turns her down.

“You sure it won’t be a bother?”

“I’m sure. Invite him over!”

I listen to the latter half of their dialogue with a desolation. I watch Eunhye engage Mr. Im in another conversation, feeling a bout of overwhelming sadness and nostalgia. I rarely get the opportunity to see Eunhye laugh so freely since my father left. It is only with Mr. Im does Eunhye express such free emotions and language. The feelings I have worked so hard to keep a lid on surfaces. Suddenly, emotions whisk me away and my thoughts run from me. I find myself thinking about my father and his painful absence. My heart struggles to breathe and the tears prick at my eyes. In less than forty-eight hours, I have become such a crybaby.

I have to find something to do to keep my mind and body busy. Leaving Eunhye and Mr. Im to their lunch plans, I make my way out of the kitchen to the bathroom again. By the time I emerge, I am freshly showered and wearing a black camisole over gray sweatpants. My hair piles away from my face. I pack the laundry basket to its max, hitch it to my side, and make my trek to the laundry room. Although it is a painful chore, I am especially happy to do it today. I am desperate to keep my mind focused on something other than gang lords and the dark underground world they inhabit. I resign to the notion that if I keep my hands and mind busy, I will unravel all the complexities that Choi Sangwoo brings me. I am sure he doesn’t do laundry to exercise mind over matter with his problems.
I don’t think he even uses the bathroom,
my intuition adds with sarcasm.

Eunhye and Mr. Im are still conversing when I enter the living room.

“Laundry?” Eunhye’s right eyebrow lifts in a delicate manner.

Eunhye finds it surprising I am doing laundry on the day I have off. This only lets me know she’s aware of a bigger issue plaguing me. A mother’s intuition is no joke. I don’t want to give anything else away since I am already an open book. I simply give her a nod and a smile to Mr. Im.

“We’re having lunch soon. I will call you.” Eunhye lets me know my afternoon plans.

“Ok mom,” is my subdued response. “I’ll see you later Mr. Im.”

“Don’t have too much fun,” Mr. Im teases.

With great humor, I promise Mr. Im my inhibition to have fun before I close the door behind me. East Point apartment complexes are divided into various sections based upon the number of units. Fortunately for my unit we have our own laundry room with an arcade included. Usually, numerous children and adults occupy the laundry room. Today, the day I wish for the loud and crowded distraction, the apartment complex is eerily quiet and vacant. Not even a single load of laundry pounds in any of the washing machines.

I make my way to the nearest washing machine. There are six of them facing the dryers on the approaching adjacent side. I take my time putting in the laundry. Each piece of fabric gets time and attention from me. By the time I’m done with the laundry detergent and setting the machine to the pre-wash cycle, I realize I have two hours to waste. I decide to call Lina.

“May.” Her familiar voice brings equilibrium to my chaotic mind state. “How are you?”

“I’m ok.” My answer is as far and distant as I am. 

“Is something wrong?” Lina takes notice of my tone. “I haven’t seen you in a few days. You’ve been distant.” My cousin does me the favor of not mentioning my negligence of her text messages.

“A lot’s going on, Lina.” I swallow hard. I am on the brink of a nervous breakdown.

She sighs across the phone line. “Is something going on with you and Choi Sangwoo? You never told me how he was able to take care of our debt.”

I hesitate, not sure how to answer her question. I know it will open a can of worms, including some insects. How do I even begin to tell Lina that Sangwoo got shot because of me? Where do I even explain the complicated feelings I have for Sangwoo? The lingering sensation of his lips is still fresh.

“Oh no,” Lina gasps and another breath of air dances across the phone line. “Don’t tell me you signed the initiation contract!”

“No, no. Nothing like that,” I reply to lay my cousin’s worries to rest.

Lina grows silent over the phone line. I know Lina is contemplating whether it is a battle she wants to get into with me.

“Everything’s going to be ok,” I tell my cousin softly. It is more for my state of mind than for hers.

“You know whatever it is, I’m here,” Lina replies. She changes the topic, offering a lighter topic of conversation. “What are you doing today?”

“I’m doing laundry. I’m also having lunch with Eunhye and Mr. Im this afternoon.” I am glad for the change in subject.

“Mr. Im? Haven’t seen him for a while. Are you doing anything afterwards? Maybe we can meet at the park for a run. I know you don’t like exercise, but we can catch up and get some sun.”

“A run actually sounds good right now.”

“You serious? You’d run with me?”

“Why not?”

Little does Lina know I am delighted with her offer. They always say keeping busy is the best remedy for unwanted thoughts, painful heartache, and errant emotions. As we continue talking, Lina fills me in with the details of her life. She’s set to quit Sansachun in a week and already has a job interview lined up with an accounting company. It is a receptionist position, but according to Lina it is a much needed graduation from working at a convenience store. Aunt Yuna and uncle Dom are particularly happy about her decision to move on to better things. Lina surprises me with the contemplation that she might return to school in the fall. My cousin doesn’t let me absorb the news before she tells me that Spyder is bothering her again, adamant about a reconciliation. In just a few days, my cousin’s life has drastically changed. I feel guilty for being so neglectful lately.