Sophie's Smile: A Novel (16 page)

“How do you feel about him?”

“That’s the problem. I’m not sure.”

“Well…you obviously like him. I think you’re just overthinking it and being your careful, calculated self.”

“I guess.”
Fidgeting with my pillow.
I hesitated,
then
asked, “Are you okay that he’s not Korean?” I hadn’t thought about this until now, but I always thought I’d be with a Korean guy and I was sure my mom hoped I’d be with one, too.

My mom pondered that question for a moment and then replied, “Well, I prefer if you were with a Korean guy just because I would be more comfortable. But as long as he’s a decent guy and treats you well, I’ll be fine with whomever you date.” She paused, before exclaiming, “Wow, I can’t believe you’re all grown up.” She was gushing…typical.

She was actually happy about this. It made me feel better. In a way, I was worried about what she might think. Her opinion mattered more than I cared to let on.

“Okay.”

“So, why do you think he likes you?”

“What?” I was shocked and slightly angry. “Why would you ask me that?”

“Just curious.”

“
Uhhh
…I don’t know.”

Feeling my angst, my mom abruptly stood up, “Okay. Well, I’ll leave you alone. Let me know if you ever need to talk.”

What the hell was that?
Isn’t my mom supposed to think every guy should find me attractive? I tried chalking it up to her slight English barrier—sometimes her Konglish missed the mark—but it still made me feel distraught. I pondered this until my phone rang. It was Liam.

“Hi, Liam.”
I was thrilled that he called, which I should have seen as a telltale sign that I liked him.

“Hi, Sophie.
Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.”

“How’s your family?”

“They’re good.”

“Good. So, when are you coming back?”

“I’ll be back on the 29
^th
.”

“Cool.” There was a long pause. “So, I was wondering if you’d like to hang out with me on the 30
^th
.”

“Sure.”

“Great,” his voice lifted, and there was relief in his tone. “Do you have anything in mind, or do you want me to think of something?”

“You could surprise me.”

Hearing his voice made me happy. I realized I had been wishing Liam would call the entire day; now that he had, I felt revived somehow. That was my answer. I was just so nervous.
Why am I over thinking this?
I’d wanted this for so long and now that it was finally within my reach, I was letting it slip away. No. I needed to just relax and let whatever was going to happen, happen. See where it took me.
Yes, just let it happen
, I thought, unconvincingly.

18

Butterflies were filling my tummy as I sat, patiently waiting for Liam to pick me up for our third “official” date. He told me to dress comfortably and wear some walking shoes, so after much thought, and a few selections later, I settled on a purple fitted shirt, jeans, and sweater. I carefully did my makeup and curled my hair, and had been ready for an hour now.
Sigh. I’m always so early.

I tried pacing in my room, and when that didn’t help I distracted myself by watching some mindless show on TV. Each time I heard a car drive by or someone cough, laugh, or speak from the other side of our paper-thin apartment
walls,
I would jump and think it was Liam. By the time the doorbell rang, I was exhausted.

Throngs of nervous butterflies now fluttered in my stomach, and my throat felt dry and lumpy. Worry drained from my body once I opened the door. There Liam stood; he sure was handsome. I felt a twinge of insecurity when I looked at him. My mom’s words stirred in my head, “
Why does he like you?”
His words seemed so sincere, his look was honest and sweet, but he seemed a little too perfect…too ideal. His smile provided some comfort, and when we hugged hello it just felt right.

“You look nice.”

“Thanks, so do you.”

I couldn’t help but look at him. He was dressed casually enough with a t-shirt, jeans, and flip-flops, but I was drawn to his face. He was clean shaven—a hint of aftershave wafted into my senses when I leaned in to hug him—his soft brown eyes showing glints of gold, and his full lips spreading into a cheerful smile across his youthful and vibrant face. He smelled clean, not like those guys doused in cheap cologne, but like Dove soap. I couldn’t help but smile in response to his.

“So, where are you taking me?” I questioned teasingly.

“I was thinking about taking a walk at the beach, along Sunset Cliffs,” Liam said as he fiddled with the CD player in his car.

“Hmm, I’ve never been.” I was excited and a bit nervous.
Aren’t beaches a bit romantic?

“Really?
Well then you’re in for a treat. It’s nice over there. I just thought it’d be a nice change of venue.” Liam sure was chipper today. I’m glad he seemed to have gotten over the text message incident. I was hoping it would be dust under the rug and not mentioned ever again.

I felt myself analyze the words that Liam used, the subjects he talked about, what piqued his interest, and what didn’t. I quickly realized that everything interested him—plants, languages, working on houses, having a family. I had never been much of a talker, so it was refreshing that he was able to fill the silence with ease and comfort. I started to become in awe of him.
Liam is the most fascinating person I have ever met and I’m pretty sure I’ll never meet anyone more intriguing.

Sunset Cliffs was a bit cold, but the atmosphere was calming and peaceful. The soft ripples of the waves crashing against the smooth light sand, the seagulls gliding effortlessly above, and the feeling this entire set was intended just for us.

We walked slowly and carefully around the large, rough rocks and the small, unhinged ones, stopping every so often so I would be only one step behind. Liam was careful and considerate. He always took the first step when the rock seemed unstable, and would offer his hand to help me over. I felt safe and protected.

Liam started limping slightly as the incline became more apparent, wincing every so often.

“Are you okay?” I was genuinely worried.

Sheepishly he replied, “Yeah, don’t worry about it. I kind of overexerted myself at the gym yesterday. I added a few too many 45-pound plates on the Smith machine and did a few too many squats.”

“Oh, okay.” I was relieved he wasn’t hurt…I was starting to care about him.

Liam must have noticed that I was cold. “Are you ready for dinner?”

“Yes.” Actually, I’d been hungry for a while now. But, I just nodded and smiled.

He drove us to a quant, historic village near downtown. I’d never been there before. I was astounded by all the new activities and places Liam showed me in this short amount of time.

“Wow. This place is really cool.”

“You look surprised. Don’t tell me you’ve never been to Old Town!” Liam definitely was shocked.

“I think it’s starting to become a trend. You taking me to places that I’ve never been to.”

“But, Old Town…everyone’s been to Old Town. It’s one of San Diego’s great historic places to visit.”

“Sorry.”

“Well I’m honored to be the person to take you here,” he said proudly.

We stepped into Café Cristobal, a vibrant and lively Mexican restaurant—the complete opposite of the beach.

The menu was overwhelming, especially with this being my first real date; I was unsure of everything. The waiter swooped in way too soon.

“
Buenas
noches
, what will you
have,
señores
?” His large sombrero, thick mustache, and gold-embroidered matador’s outfit made him appear jovial on the surface, but his dark, expressionless eyes and pursed, downturned lips belied the Disney facade. I didn’t mind; I chose to take this experience at face value.

I hesitated as I hastily scanned the menu, “Umm, what are you getting?”

“Well, I always get the black bean burrito, but you should try whatever sounds good to you.” Liam urged me to get anything I wanted, but I seriously had no idea.

“That sounds good. I’ll have the same.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I want the black bean burrito, too.” I spotted the burrito just then on the menu and it was $8.99. Perfect. I didn’t want to spend too much money on dinner.

“Okay, that’s easy.” He turned to the waiter. “We’ll have two black bean burritos and…what would you like to drink? Did you want a margarita or something other than water?”

“I’ll have a Diet Coke.”

“Okay,” Liam turned to the matador-waiter, “and I’ll have an iced tea.”

We handed off our menus to the slightly disgruntled waiter and we started chatting again about whatever came to mind. There were musicians coming around all the tables taking song requests, old women trying to hand long-stem roses to girls while asking suckers to buy them—a perfect scheme—and people laughing a little too loudly because of the
grande
margaritas kicking inside them. The mood was infectious and I was thoroughly enjoying myself.

“I really like this place,” I said, an octave higher.

“I’m glad. It’s one of my favorite hangouts.”

The food was delicious and filling. I probably could have finished the entire plate but I stopped myself at half, especially since he didn’t seem like he would be able to eat more than that himself. I didn’t want to frighten or disgust him.

“The portions here are large.”

“Yea,” I responded, resisting the urge to sneak in another bite.

When the check came, Liam grabbed it before I even had a chance to blink. He took out his card and placed it in the folder…it was like he was trying to win a race. I chuckled.

“Are you sure?”

He grinned, “Of course. It’s my treat.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you for coming on a date with me.”

On the way home our conversation faltered slightly. I wasn’t sure what was on his mind, but mine was on what was coming up. Anxiety crept upon me. My hands fumbled beside me, so I clasped them on my lap. As he pulled up my driveway and set the car in park, Liam took a deep breath, his eyes looking forward—over the dull lawn and few scrappy plants that were reduced to black and gray smudges by the night sky—intent on his thoughts and committed to sharing them with me. I’d been starting to notice that he was an open book.

He suddenly turned, eyes fixed sincerely on mine. In a quiet and calm voice he mustered up the words, drawing them out as fast as he could deliver them, “I wanted to talk about the ‘text message’ debacle-kiss-thing again and let you understand my reasons and why I’m so bad at all this ‘dating’ and ‘seeing’ stuff.”

“No, really.
It’s okay,” I cringed. My heart raced and suddenly I felt nervous, not for me but for him. I realized he was still hurt by how I took the message, his heartfelt words and his bold feelings.
He sure wears his heart on his sleeve.