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CHAPTER FOUR

At six o'clock, I promptly knocked on the front door downstairs as Sarah adjusted her shirt beside me. I tended to be a stickler for punctuality so I was constantly giving Sarah a countdown as to how many minutes she had before we had to leave.

"Sarah, your shirt looks fine," I muttered, as we waited for someone to answer.

"But it's not the one I wanted to wear," Sarah replied grumpily. After taking the time to demonstrate the proper way to use an iron, steam and all, we had realized after ironing the shirt that there was a stain on the shoulder and it ended up going into the laundry bin.

"The shirt you're wearing looks great," I assured her, glancing over at her. And Sarah did look great. The green blouse had darts on the side and a deep eyelet in the front, accentuating her fit frame. Skinny jeans completed the look with a pair of low-heeled sandals. Sarah loved to run and it showed on her figure.

I was much more casually dressed in jeans, flip flops and one of my many t-shirts, this one being a Drink 7-Up tee. Sarah always begged me to let her dress me, but I was comfortable in my clothes. It said, Don't notice me. That was the look I was going for. I wanted to blend in.

"Oh my God," Sarah said, hopping from one foot to another and pounding on the door. "Hurry up! We're freezing!"

Sarah and I had opted not to wear coats since we were just running downstairs, but the cold air was starting to seep in.

The door flung open and Grant stepped aside, waving us in.

"Sorry, ladies," he said with a gallant bow. He straightened and grinned. "We were in the backyard with the music blasting."

Sarah and I hurriedly entered, shivering to shake off the cold. Students used to typically leave their doors unlocked until a series of break-ins last year changed people's habits. Before that, Grant and Marcus usually left their door unlocked. We used to just walk into their apartment after knocking but now they were making an effort to lock the front door, although they still often forgot. I had always insisted on locking our door even before the rash of break-ins, since I embraced anything that made me feel safer.

Grant's eyes lit up as he saw the pie in my hand. "Is that coconut pie?" he asked excitedly.

"Yeah," I laughed. "I'll just go put it in the fridge."

I stowed the pie in the fridge, noting the science experiment growing in the back. It suspiciously resembled leftover Chinese food, although it looked more like a furry green creature making itself at home in an open take-out carton.

"I think something's alive in your fridge," I said disgustedly, grabbing the container and throwing it in the trash.

"Hey!" Grant protested. "What if I was going to eat that?"

Sarah smirked. "You should thank her. I think she just saved your life."

I turned around as I heard the sliding glass door leading to their backyard open and saw Marcus and Simon step inside. I couldn't help but notice how good Simon looked. He was dressed like me, in jeans and a t-shirt, but the way he filled them out was drastically different. He grinned when he saw me, walking towards us.

"You made it," he said, seemingly pleased. "I'm glad to see that organizing your room didn't take too long."

"Huh?" Sarah asked, confused. She turned to me. "Since when do you have to organize your room? It's always cl-"

I elbowed Sarah and she looked at me in surprise. "Oh, yeah, it didn't take too long," I replied, trying not to stumble over my words. "Anyways, how's the barbecuing going?"

"Great," Marcus said. "We've got some hamburgers and dogs grilling."

"Next time you should give me more notice," I said. "I could've made some kalbi to grill but I have to marinate that overnight."

Kalbi was a Korean dish of marinated beef short ribs that I often made for barbecuing. Even though my Korean mother had passed away when I was only five and my father hadn't done anything to help me learn about that side of my heritage, I had made the effort to try to embrace it as much as possible. This was especially true when I was younger, and I found that most of my outlet in trying to identify myself as Korean came through food and cooking.

Grant groaned, rubbing his stomach. "That stuff is awesome." Grant turned to Simon. "Seriously, man. You gotta try it some time. It's amazing."

Simon looked over at me, quirking his mouth. "Yet another thing I have to add to my list of stuff you need to make for me. What exactly is it?"

"Oh, it's just a Korean dish of marinated beef," I replied, wishing I had never brought it up. "It's no big deal."

Sarah laughed. "Caitlin is just being modest. You'll see for yourself when you try it."

"Do you know how to make a lot of Korean food?" Simon asked. "I've never had it before."

"Just a few dishes," I answered lightly, sitting down on the couch. I slipped my feet out of my flip flops and curled them under me. Simon had already asked me last night at the bar about my family and my mother who had passed away. I had answered his questions with the least amount of information I could, and I didn't want to go into it any further tonight so I tried to change the subject. "Where's this chili dip I heard about?"

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