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“Listen to me closely, Son.”
God, I hate it when he refers to me as “Son.” It’s like he’s reduced me to my position in our family tree and all the expectations that come with it, instead of actually addressingme, Elijah.
“Make sure you do not put too much time or effort into this hackathon. It’s exactly the kind of useless work I do not want you focused on. This is for some middle manager to plan. You are the future CEO of this company. You should not be working with insignificant summer interns. Do you understand me?” His voice has a tinge of warning in it.
Maybe the distance from my dad and his iron fist has made me bolder. Or maybe I’ve just stopped caring what he thinks enough to rebel. “No, Dad, actuallyyoudon’t understand. Jessica’s put a lot of work into this.”
“Jessica? Who is Jessica?”
“She’s...” I need to change course and quickly. I don’t want Jessica on my dad’s radar in any way. If he thinks she’s behind the hackathon’s success, for some reason, he might sabotage her efforts. He has to think I’m the one. And if he got wind at all how I’m starting to feel for her, shit will hit the fan. “...just an intern. She’s worked long hours along with the whole intern class doing what I’ve asked of them. It’s gonna be awesome. You’ll be really impressed.”
“I don’t want to be impressed, Elijah. I want you to obey what I’m telling you. Stop wasting your time. Let this Jessica and the rest of the interns feel important for a day. Let them earn their hourly wages. But don’t let them become ambitious to do more. The internship program is a charity case, a tax write-off for the company. We do not need it to have attention. We have bigger things to focus on. As of tomorrow, you will not work on this hackathon. I want you to find out how you can help with the Sky High Convention instead.”
“But, Dad, you can’t ask that—”
“Elijah?”
I whirl around and see Jessica standing in the doorway, brows furrowed.
I hold up one finger at her and turn my back so she can’t hear.
“Dad, can we talk about this later?” I lower my voice into the phone. Way to sound inconspicuous, Elijah. “I have to go, I’m sorry,” I say.
“We do not have to talk later. I’ve made my wishes clear. Do not disobey me, Elijah. And I’m having you come home to Korea earlier than planned, in a couple weeks. There’s a young lady from the Paik family you need to meet.”
I clench my fist in rage and want to throw my phone against the brick wall of the restaurant. But instead, I hang up without saying goodbye, dropping my head to my chest. I’m going to pay for that later. No one hangs up on my dad. But I couldn’t take it anymore.
I feel the soft touch of a hand on my back and look over my shoulder.
“Is everything okay?” Jessica asks, worry in her voice.
I let out a deep breath, pressing myself a little bit into her touch as if I can gain strength, or at least some perspective, from it.
I don’t answer her question, taking her hand instead and pulling her to the side of the building where the streetlights barely reach. I want to hide in the shadows here and pretend that I’m not who I am. Jessica’s back is to the brick wall, and I put my arm out and lean in to shield her from anyone walking past on the sidewalk.
“Elijah, tell me what’s wrong,” she whispers. She places her hand on my chest and I’m certain she feels my heart trying to pound its way free.
I inch closer, slowly, until my forehead touches hers. I shut my eyes, pushing out the sound of my dad’s commands. I ignore the anxiety brewing about some girl with the last name Paik. It’s just me and Jessica here. My breath evens out and I feel one thousand times calmer.
I open my eyes and pull away just a tiny bit. The way she’s looking at me...concerned but infinitely patient. Incredibly kind. I search in her eyes for the person she sees in front of her—a version of myself that even I can like and respect.
I swallow back the swell of emotion, the need. It feels like I’ve gone my whole life without someone to care about how I’m feeling. And with just one look, Jessica has me desperate for it.
The fingers of the hand that once lay flat on my chest grab the fabric of my shirt and gently pull me toward her. She tilts her head, inviting me to kiss her, and I don’t hesitate. I lean in and my mouth meets hers.
So warm. So soft.
“Jessica,” I say against her lips. She moves her arms around my neck, running a hand through my hair. Her mouth opens for me and my tongue finds its way. Her entire body is warm and pliant, forming against mine.
I shift, putting all my weight onto my arm supporting me against the brick wall and wrap my other arm around her waist to remove any space between us, lifting her up a fraction to get a better angle, to get even closer. She lets out a tiny gasp, and I can’t help it—a moan escapes me in response.
She pulls back a tiny bit for some air. I want to suggest we just forget the need and keep kissing. But the feel of her breath ghosting over my cheek is just as intoxicating.
She looks me square in the eyes, searching for something. “Talk to me. Who was on the phone? Are you okay? How can I help?” She asks all the right questions to soothe the damage left behind by my dad.
I want to keep kissing her, removing any worry from her pretty face, instead of having to deal with the fact that with one phone call, my father ruined my entire summer.
“It was my dad,” I admit, knowing that she’ll understand the weight of just those words. “But can we not talk about it right now?” I step away from her but reach out to tuck a strand of loose hair behind her ear. Even though this summer night is warm and humid, Jessica shivers. “Let’s go inside. I’m hungry,” I say. “Apparently some of the city’s best Italian food is waiting for us.”
