TWO MONTHS PASS, AND ELOISE DOESN'T CALL HIM. Of course, when she opens her calculus notebook, she flips through his messy scrawl at the bottom of the last couple of pages and her breathing hitches just a little. It's a perfect opportunity for her to get out of her comfort box and actually make contact with people her own age, but a lot has happened over the past eight weeks that it just gradually slipped her mind.
For one, her dad called her a total of sixteen times. Twice a week. And it's driving her up the fucking wall.
When she sees his name as the caller ID, Eloise feels the crack in her chest widen exponentially. At this point, her body's basically split in half.
Every time, Eloise loves too hard and takes the brunt of the fall. Is it cruel of her to just ignore everything for just a little while?
Maybe she should. Call her father, that is.
To hear what? The cackling silence of heartache?
She's not sure if it's worth it anymore.
***
"Hi, what can I get for you today?"
Eloise Park doesn't even raise her head as the customer orders a vanilla cappuccino with a double shot of espresso. Just types it into her screen and holds a hand out for payment, which she swipes in one smooth motion.
Two more hours—two more hours, and then I can go home.
This week has been tough on her: she's been pulling more shifts at Blue Bottle Coffee to cover shifts for the rest of her co-coworkers, who've been out sick with some nasty virus. On top of that, at least exam week is over. No more pulling all-nighters to spend time reviewing her notes, and certainly no more calculus. At least for the time being.
Earlier in the day, Parker had texted her friend to let her know that she'd be at the soccer game, which should be nearly half-way over by now. When Eloise saw her phone light up with the notification, a sense of relief covered her. Parker deserves to smile.
It's a warm evening, and she's glad that Salem is out underneath stadium lights surrounded by mutual friends. If closely observed, the night stars are coated in a soft glow behind wispy strings of clouds. Through the glass windows in the café, something inside of her is desperate to escape.
Customers inside Blue Bottle are starting to decrease in population. It's a Friday night in Los Angeles, so of course people won't be cooped up inside with their work laptops for too long. Briefly, she wonders about a different life, a different world. Where she would be out at a party instead of making overpriced drinks for customers.
The overhead bell on the door rings loudly and Eloise closes her eyes and brings two fingers to each temple, rubbing an incoming headache away. She can't wait to go home and curl up with a movie on their couch. Layered with background music, male laughter and conversation resonate throughout the coffee shop.
She doesn't even look up. "Hi, what can I get for you today?"
There's a sharp intake of breath, but Eloise's eyes are still partially closed. Even she can tell that she's irritated.
"Getting a call back would be nice," an unnervingly familiar voice says. Her head snaps up so quick that she's positive whiplash ensues, and Jonah Kim is standing on the opposite side of the counter. He winks. "I've been waiting a long time. Or is this all part of your teasing game?"
"Don't say it," she warns lowly.
"—because I'll admit, it's working," he finishes.
Eloise opens her mouth. Jonah's hair is messy and sweaty—his game must have finished. The light hits his cheekbones in a ridiculously flattering way, highlighting an angular face and warm brown eyes. He's dressed in a loose grey sweatshirt with athletic shorts, a soccer bag casually slung over one shoulder. The picture of unrefined beauty.
He's painfully handsome, and it's starting to make sense why he's the campus obsession.
There are two boys to his right—Adrian Chalmetón and Wren Baktari. Both soccer players, the former being the captain. They're looking at her slyly (like all boys do) and subtly elbowing each other underneath the table, grinning without shame. God, is the entire soccer team this attractive?
She wants to hide underneath the table.
Eloise swallows, and Jonah's eyes trace the movement of her throat. "I'm sorry," Eloise says honestly. "I've just been so busy, and exam week was killing me, and just—I'm sorry," she repeats hollowly.
"S'okay," the Korean boy declares with a cheeky smile (again, he smiles so often that she's starting to think it's permanently glued to his face). "You can make it up to me, beautiful."
Her heartbeat skips. "I, uh, I'm working." She probably looks hideous, too. "For another two hours."
Did she even brush her hair this morning?
He seems unbothered and instead picks up a dark chocolate cookie, examining its packaging without any actual interest. "That's fine," Jonah murmurs smoothly. "I can wait. Two hours isn't anything compared to two months, after all."
Eloise is positive she's blushing. God, she doesn't act like this ever, but something about the person in front of her makes her knees go weak.
"You're going to have to wait," she blurts out. "It's not really worth your time."
He takes out a ten-dollar bill and hands it over, careful to not touch her. "Don't be ridiculous, baboya. Everything about you is worth my time."
Baboya. He called her baboya.
Adrian taps Jonah on the shoulder. "Hey, man, hurry the fuck up; the line's getting long." He turns to her. "Hey, Eloise." Both boys offer a sheepish grin and wave.
Jonah turns around and stares blatantly at his friends. "I was getting to that part, assholes, so shut up."
It's like Eloise isn't even there. There's something charming about watching these three boys. It's messy and confusing and too fast-paced for her to follow, but it's friendship. A beautiful, chaotic tangle.
The angel with the dangerous eyes and killer mouth leans toward her. "So, what do you say? Let's go out after your shift is over, yeah?"
Live a little, her mother used to say.
She takes a deep breath. "Consider this as my apology," Eloise suggests fairly. "For not calling you back. And as a thank you for the food you gave me before." She hesitates, lips pursed. "I get off at nine, if you can wait until then."
Jonah's eyebrows draw together at her response, something like confusion and disappointment flashing across his features, but he quickly recovers and straightens. "It's a deal, Park."
The three boys order the same thing—extra-tall black coffees with no cream or sugar—and settle down in the back left corner of the shop. With their long limbs and bulky bags full of soccer gear, they look strangely out of place. It's a sight that makes her heart go soft. Not only are they presumably ditching their own victory party back on campus, but Jonah's waiting.
For her.
Thirty minutes pass, and she says a quick goodbye to Adrian and Wren before helping another customer. When she looks back at Jonah, his dark head is bent over a book and headphones are placed snugly over his ears. Both feet tap silently along to whatever music he's listening to, completely zoned out of reality.
Eloise doesn't really know what she's really doing—hell, she's never even hung out with a boy before, and everything happened so fast that she hasn't had any time to reflect on it.
She shoots a quick text to Parker.
What do you know about Jonah Kim?
The reply is nearly immediate. Parker must be at home rather than the party, probably curled up in her bed with a tub of ice cream.
If I had to rate the top five most beautiful people I've ever seen in my life, he'd be there.
Eloise rolls her eyes and checks to see if her boss is watching.
Yeah, but what do you think about him?
Three dots appear, then go away, and then pop back up again.
I've never really heard anything bad about him, despite the fact that he flirts a lot. He's a good student and ridiculously friendly. I'm pretty sure he volunteers at the animal shelter, too. I don't know him that well, but he seems like a good person.
A silent sigh of relief escapes her, and she sneaks a glance back at him. His eyes are closed now, head tipped back to rest against the back of the chair. The strong lines of his jaw are pronounced now, Adam's apple prominent.
Parker sends another text. Why? What's up?
I'll talk when I get back home, Eloise types. Some things are better said in person. And plus, she's not even sure what to make of the rest of this evening. It feels as if time is passing by in slow motion and she's in the center of it, quietly observing from her secluded spot. She's not too sure why a boy like him is in any way interested in her. Eloise is quiet, apart from the group, and damaged.
Damaged goods, her father had snarled. Just like your mother.
But the dark thoughts disappear when she sneaks another glance at Jonah, and he blushes a little, smiling and glancing away at his tennis shoes.
And although she's still dressed in a terribly unflattering light-brown apron, Eloise wishes time would fly just a little faster.
***
Her shift is finally over. The sky is dyed a subtle violet, stars out and shining in earnest now. Even at nine o'clock in California, a warm summer breeze still lingers against pedestrians in the streets, rustling clothing and blowing back hair. Eloise feels lighter today, somehow.
Jonah is standing by the door, a chapter book held in one hand and an empty coffee cup in the other. While he waited, the boy drank five cups of coffee.
No wonder he's a fast runner.
Throughout a lifetime, there are four types of hearts that people meet: the heart that shouldn't be loved but is loved anyway, the one that should be loved but isn't, the one that is loved in bad timing, and the fourth... the fourth is everything in between.
Eloise can't help wonder if Jonah is the latter.
He holds a hand out, and then draws it back quickly, remembering that she prefers not to be touched. "Hey, Park," Jonah says. "Ready to go?"
During the two hour period, his hair dried and turned even messier than when he first walked through the doors. Even still, it's odd that he doesn't smell completely horrible, like he's just come out of the shower instead of a soccer game.
Eloise folds her apron on the counter and slips it into her backpack, slinging it on her shoulders before heading for the exit. "Yeah," she agrees. They walk out together, and she thinks he's slowing his steps for her, but can't be too sure. His legs are so long and he's shockingly tall that their height difference is almost comical. Something resembling the movies.
There's a comfortable silence between them. "So, Jonah Kim," muses Eloise. "Where are you taking me tonight?"
A low hum sounds from the base of his throat, and he turns to look at her, dark eyes sparkling. "Have you eaten yet?"
"I—uh, no, I haven't. Not since this morning."
Jonah pouts, and his smile fades. "C'mon, baboya. This is a bad habit we're going to have to break. Do you know how long it takes to get rid of a habit?"
There's a string of curiosity tugging at her, getting more intense by the second. "I have a feeling that you're going to tell me anyways," she answers. Her tone is dry and wiry and almost coy, and she tries her hardest to keep her vision directed straight ahead and not at the person to her left.
"Twenty-one days." Jonah's grin shines shamelessly through his speech. "Three weekends with me to ensure proper nutrition."
Eloise makes a strange sound, almost like she's being strangled. "You're awfully confident," she comments, purposely poking his buttons. And he is. Confident, that is. He knows what he's doing, what he's saying, and every word is said with a genuinity she can't exactly put her finger on.
He laughs and runs a hand through his hair—a sad attempt to tame it. "And you're awfully gorgeous. Tell me something that I don't know."
Eloise's breath hitches slightly at the back of her throat. "You can't keep on saying things like that," she mutters embarrassingly, fingers clenched. "You hardly know me."
"That'll change." Jonah flashes another brilliant smile at her (his teeth are white, too).
"How can you be so sure?"
Jonah shrugs and tucks his phone in his back pocket. "Because you're you, and I'm me."
"What does that even mean?"
"I don't really know yet, but I'm sure getting your number will help."
Eloise rolls her eyes, and her lips tug upwards in the barest hint of a smile. "Let's strike a deal. If I finish all of my food tonight, then I'll give in."
The Korean boy clicks his tongue and winks at her. "Get ready for the best fucking carbs you've ever had in your life."
They turn the corner, and Eloise can feel her stomach tighten again—a sign that occurs before it growls. It's a cute little diner, with fairy string lights out in front attached to a chalk display board of their daily specials.
Sue's Corner, the sign reads. She's never been there before, but it smells like cinnamon-sugar and butter. Heaven.
Throughout their walk, Jonah had been careful to not touch her—not even in the slightest manner. Although close, he kept a respectful distance and had his hands in his pockets the entire time.
He holds the door open for her and two other customers behind them. Inside, the bar is white marble and surrounded by well-loved leather booths, the smell of food soothing her stomach. She's hungry now, desperately so, and there's a knowing smirk on Jonah's lips as they sit down. Both grabbing menus, Eloise tries to calm her racing heartbeat (kind of impossible when he's near).
One minute, she's looking down and deciding between pancakes and waffles, and the next, Jonah cries out and grabs the back of his neck.
An Asian woman holds a plastic menu in her raised right hand, which she uses to smack Jonah again. He winces and shakes his head from side to side.
"Ya." the woman, who appears to be in her early forties, rolls her eyes blatantly. "You're stealing all of my food. Stop eating bread and margarine, boy, you'll get fat." Although her tone is short and concise, the woman clearly looks down at him with love and affection, and Eloise knows she doesn't really mind his company. She's pretty, with electric blue eyeliner and perfect dark eyebrows.
Jonah seems unfazed and laughs instead. Other customers look their way but turn back to their conversations, clearly uninterested and possibly used to the fiasco happening in the back of the store. "Gomo," he whines, "don't forget that you love me."
"What?" She raises the menu again.
He flinches.
"Don'tforgetthatyoulovemeplease," he mutters in one breath, hands raised to protect his face from a potential incoming blow. Eloise is smiling now, cheeks throbbing from the foreign action. His aunt looks at her for a second and her gaze softens. Saying something to her nephew in Korean too fast for Eloise to understand, she watches as Jonah nods and places his chin in one hand.
His aunt—Sue—writes something down on her notepad. "Your regular?"
"Minus the extra potatoes," Jonah retorts with a thumbs up. "Don't want me getting fat, right?"
Sue makes a face at him and turns her body towards Eloise instead. "Hi," she says gently. "I'm Sue—" she gestures to the boy sitting across from her— "this idiot's aunt."
Eloise is still smiling, and she can feel Jonah's stare from across the table, lingering on her bottom lip. "Hi, Sue," she says quietly, looking over the menu once again. "Never really been here before. What do you recommend?"
Jonah's aunt snaps her fingers. "Oh! The dark chocolate crepes are the newest thing on the menu. I'll give it to you for free if you just let me know how to improve it."
She smiles wider. "Sure, yeah. That sounds really great."
"Food will be out in ten, you hungry monsters."
Sue leaves to head for the kitchen, and Eloise turns her attention to Jonah Kim, his gaze serious and silent and wholly directed towards her. She realizes she's still smiling, and it dies a little bit out of confusion.
"What?" Her voice is soft and tentative—she's never really done this before, and her foot begins to tap nervously on the ground.
Jonah leans a bit closer and toys with a simple ring on his finger. "Don't worry about it. Really. I just like you smiling, that's all."
Studying him, she's yet again stunned by how good-looking he is. Dark hair falls over his forehead in tousled strands, and his skin is tan and smooth and clear. Jonah's cheekbones and nose bridge are high, lips full and tinted pink.
Eloise clears her throat and shoves down feelings of awkwardness. She's always been terrible with people. "So, how was your game?"
"We won," he exclaims with pride. "Four to two." A pause, and then a small sigh. "I'm sorry you had to work on a Friday night."
Sometimes, Eloise forgets how charming he is.
He flirts a lot, Parker had texted. Not exactly wrong there.
She shrugs and stares at the ring on his right index finger. It's a simple silver band, and there's something written on the edge, but it's too tiny for her to make out. "It's not that bad," she admits. "My boss is better than my last one, and it's nice to forget about school for a little while."
He nods. "You're a sophomore, right?" Jonah bites his lip and leans back against the booth.
Eloise confirms his answer and watches Jonah's eyebrows draw together.
"Where's your boyfriend?" he asks quietly, reflection from his ring bright and shining.
"I don't have one."
He breathes out a subtle sigh of relief, and she's half-tempted to smile at this bizarre situation. "Fuck," Jonah mumbles incoherently to himself, probably thinking she can't really hear.
Hands on the table, she starts to shred the ends of her paper napkin. Leans back and shows a little teeth in a simpering smile. "I think I scare them all away," Eloise says. "And it's just—not a good time. For me."
"That's fair." A slight shift in tone. "Are you still having a hard time with calc?"
She nods, unsure of what's coming next. "Yeah, why?"
He opens his mouth and then closes it again. "Study dates," blurts Jonah suddenly.
She stares at him blankly.
"I mean, let's study together. I can help you with calculus, and you can come over with your notes." His voice is smooth and low, like the feeling of velvet in the wintertime.
Eloise blinks once. Twice. Three times.
"You want to study," she drawls slowly, "with me?"
Jonah rewards her with a crooked smile. "That's pretty much what I'm saying, baboya. Unless you don't want to," he says in a rush. "Then that's fine—I don't want to force you into doing anything you don't want to do."
"You won't get anything out of it," Eloise admits. "You're older and in different classes."
"I don't care."
She begins to think things over. There are certainly benefits, like a potential chance to raise her grade in math and (perhaps) a chance to spend more time with the boy in front of her. Even so, he's quite an enigma, a mystery, and she wants to be the one to figure him out. She just doesn't know how.
"I don't know." It's an honest answer. "I've never really done this before."
"Haven't done what before?"
She looks away to the edge of the table. "Talked to anyone else besides Parker."
"Ah." Jonah bends a knee and looks up at her from underneath coal lashes, all charming and sweet. "Do you want to try? With me? Think of it as a test run."
Eloise's eyebrows draw closer together, and then she laughs. It's loud and light and completely obnoxious—she wouldn't be surprised if Jonah internally cringed.
"Oh, my God," she says, gingerly wiping at her eyes. "You don't make any sense. Why would someone like you want to spend time with someone like—"
"Eloise," the dark-haired boy interrupts. "Believe it or not, I'd really like to get to know you. I've been wanting to—ever since two months ago." Although soft in volume, there's a hardness to his speech, like he understands but hates that he does. "Just... just give me a chance."
Eloise swallows but manages to maintain eye-contact. His gaze is fierce and unwavering, a familiar tenderness surrounding honey-brown irises. She doesn't really know what to say, or if there's even a right answer, but she manages to croak out a response.
"Okay," she whispers, and it feels like time stops. The conversations in the background die out, and there is just Jonah Kim with his silver rings and stunning face. "A test run. Twenty-one days."
She is rewarded with a life-changing grin (his dimple shows, too, right below his cheekbone).
Sue comes back with plates full of piping hot food, and Eloise can feel her mouth start to salivate. Her crepes are almost black in color, dollops of whipped cream decorating the rim of the plate along with fresh strawberries and fruit inside. She begs her stomach to stay silent for another two minutes.
Meanwhile, Jonah reaches for his food out of his aunt's too-full arms, pulling down plates of scrambled eggs, pancakes, potatoes, grilled vegetables, and fresh fruit.
"That should be plenty for now," Sue tells her nephew with a pointed finger. "Don't bother the pretty girl, okay?"
There's a look of fake hurt on his face. "Gomo, you're hurting my feelings—the reason there's a wound in my heart."
Sue exhales impatiently. "Oh, zip it, will you?" She turns to Eloise and smiles, makeup glittering under the lights. "Enjoy your food, Eloise." She walks away, hips swishing. "Don't forget to tell me how it tastes!"
"Thank you, Sue!"
Eagerly grabbing the fork and knife to her right, Eloise cuts into her crepe, but then something hits her.
"No meat?" Looking at Jonah's food, there's no sign of breakfast sausage anywhere. Not even with the seasoned eggs and toast.
"For a college boy, I'm surprised."
He shakes his head and winks, shrugging casually. "I actually cut out meat from my diet because it impacted my health. Went vegan for around a month, but missed eggs too much, so here we are." Gripping his fork, he gently nudges his chin in her direction, silently telling her to eat first. The muscles in his forearms are sinewy and continuous and lean, distracting her.
Something like awe strikes Eloise's chest, and it's crazy to her how much dedication and passion Jonah is capable of and how much he cares about every aspect of his life. He's staring at her with barely checked-in amusement, as if saying, c'mon, take a bite.
She lifts a piece of the crepe to her mouth and pops it in, the taste of cocoa powder and tart strawberries exploding on her tongue. Eloise takes her time swallowing and it takes a shocking amount of effort to keep a straight face.
"So?" Jonah's grinning at her, eagerly waiting for her reaction. He reaches over and steals a strawberry tentatively.
Eloise glares.
He chuckles. "Hey, if you don't like it, then I'll eat it for you, baboya."
"Don't fucking touch my food," she half-snarls, a dangerous simper playing on the edges of her lips. His eyes widen in pretend shock and he drops his fork, raising both hands up behind the back of his neck.
"But you're right," Eloise admits. "This is amazing."
Beyond amazing—food is an art, and Sue is a master at it. Before she knows it, the crepe is completely finished (even the whipped cream bits on the edge). Throughout their meal, Jonah sneaked a couple of berries from her plate but gave her his hashbrowns as an apology. Eloise doesn't remember the last time she's had such good food.
And company.
Ten o'clock passes, and soon ten thirty. She doesn't say much, and that's okay, because Jonah talks for her. She's a good listener, and it's surprisingly easy to get lost in his words and tiny gestures. Later, when Sue comes to collect their plates, Eloise tells her that the crepes are perfect and that no change is necessary.
"More fruit, please," Jonah had said. Sue smacked him across the head.
And now, glancing at his side profile under the moonlight, Eloise is so, so confused.
You only drag people down, Ellie, her father had screamed with a bottle in his hand. God, I can't believe you're my kid.
They walk in silence, again with him slowing his steps for her. And she doesn't really know what she's doing, what the hell she's thinking, but Eloise carefully reaches out for his hand.
She almost touches his palm.
He looks over knowingly, and the next thing she knows, she's ripping it back to her side, heart beating erratically and mouth terribly dry.
In the corner of her eyes, she thinks his cheeks are pink.
You really are a baboya.
Jonah (to her gratitude) stays quiet and doesn't mention anything on the walk back to her apartment, and slings her backpack off his shoulders, quietly offering it to her. The light hits the shape of his lips, and she's drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Jonah is completely, utterly unsafe, and with him, it's all or nothing. No grey areas. He's like the ocean—gentle at first, the water warm and soothing, and then it's a riptide with no escape.
He's a dangerous collection of everything she's afraid of; a mess of beautiful contradictions. The definition of sweet sunshine and lazy Sunday mornings.
Jonah takes a small step closer to her, breathing almost a bit ragged. "Next Tuesday," he murmurs lowly. The syllables caress and calm her. "Are you free?"
Eloise can feel her cheeks light on fire. "Work," she breathes. "I have work."
"After, then. My place to study."
A pause, along with the shuffling of her feet on the concrete. "I, um, I'll let you know." She sounds breathless and the statement comes out of her mouth resembling more of a question, but all Eloise can hear and see is the movement of Jonah's chest, and she can smell the scent of boy on the cotton of his shirt. Jonah, Jonah, Jonah.
At this point, she's sure he can hear her heart jumping out of her chest, and she turns around to walk away. He doesn't reach a hand out to grab her wrist (she doesn't like to be touched, unless she initiates it), but—
"Forgetting something, aren't you?"
She freezes.
Holy shit, he wants her phone number. Eloise begins to silently panic and squeezes her eyes shut. What would Parker do? She's frozen to the spot, back facing him, and a few seconds pass before he's jogging to her. Jonah's phone is in the palm of his left hand, and he hands it to her. The contact app is open.
He tilts his head to the side bashfully and looks at her underneath his lashes. "We made a deal," Jonah justifies. "And you ate all of the food. Like, there was literally nothing left, so—"
"Okay, okay," Eloise interrupts, embarrassed. "You win."
Giving it back, she turns around again to get away, and Jonah's hand shoots up like lightning, grabbing the zipper of her backpack. He tugs swiftly, spinning her body around so that they're face-to-face.
"Wait," he nearly whispers. They're so close that she can smell the scent of berries on his tongue and feel the brush of silky hair against her forehead. Jonah brings a hand slowly up to her face, and his expression asks a silent question.
Can I?
Eloise nods in the slightest movement and closes her eyes. She just breathes him in, breath by breath, and waits patiently.
A few moments pass, and just as she's about to open her eyes and literally run away for the third time tonight, he brushes his thumb across the red skin of her cheekbone. The touch is tender and intimate, and Jonah leans even closer. His lips barely brush the shell of her ear.
His breath sends a jolt down her spine. "Goodnight, beautiful." He sounds like a fallen angel—tempting and mysterious and all too familiar.
Eloise turns suddenly without any explanation and makes a break for her apartment, the soft pearls of his laughter following her like a second skin. She quickly opens the door and as soon as it shuts, leans roughly against it. Her body is heaving with deep breaths. It's hot—too hot—and she just wants to scream. Not in frustration, really, but because she's overwhelmed.
Eloise is drowning.
And although the life preserver is close enough to grab it, she doesn't. Just lets herself be enveloped by the water of her thoughts as she covers an unrestrained grin with her hand.
***
Jonah Kim doesn't move for a couple of minutes and instead stands in front of her apartment building to see if she got in okay. He curiously watches as the light turns on, and then flicker off. He can still smell the chocolate on her breath, can still feel the texture of her hair.
Finally, finally, he heads back home, steps lighter in the humid air, and there's a smile on his face.
Even with a sky full of stars, he'd still be staring at her.
***
author's note: happy friday everyone! it's so rewarding to see characters in my head take their place through my words. thank you so much for reading!
quick notes (translation):
✰ ya: hey!
✰ gomo: aunt (koreans have complicated family vocabulary, so there's actually two words for 'aunt'. in this case, gomo means the sister of your father)
✰ baboya: dummy (affectionate)