Chapter 15

“Hey, Elsie,” I said, walking into the apartment after work.

Elsie was lying on her bed, busy typing something up on her laptop. But she put a complete stop to everything and sat up at my arrival. Smiling, she said, “Hi, Yura. How was work?”

She had never asked me that before. Since I came late every day during the weekdays, Elsie was either not home or too tired to ever really speak to me. It wasn’t like I had been any different, prioritizing rest over small talk. But tonight, as exhausted as I was from the long day, I welcomed this friendly conversation. It was refreshing, to say the least.

“Work was okay,” I replied with a shrug. “I made it through.”

“Good job for making it through today.”

“Um, thank you…” I couldn’t find anything more to say to her sudden words of kindness. Was she trying to be extra nice right now or was this a part of her I had never bothered to see before?

“Did you have dinner yet?”

My stomach grumbled on cue as if it had been waiting to be asked that. I shook my head.

“Me neither. This essay has had my hands full all night. Should I make some ramen?”

“You? Ramen?” I said without thinking, purely out of surprise. Consequently, it might have come out a bit derisive. I tried again. “I mean, I can make it.”

Elsie tilted her head at me in light offense. “Oh, come on, Yura. You don’t have to be one hundred percent Asian to be able to cook good ramen. My dad made it for me a lot growing up. I am somewhat of a ramen-cooking expert by now.”

“Right,” I said apologetically. “I’ll leave it to you, then.”

She nodded confidently.

“I’m going to go take a shower.”

“Don’t be too long though or the noodles will get soft. No sane person likes overcooked ramen.”

“Okay,” I said with a chuckle.

Perhaps Elsie did know a thing or two about ramen.

. . .

My hair was still dripping wet from my shower, but that didn’t matter when there was a steaming hot pot of ramen in front of me. Elsie had already set two small bowls on each side of the table along with a pair of chopsticks on my side and a fork on hers.

She saw me eyeing the fork. “I’m going to practice, I promise. But noodles might be the last thing I try to pick up with chopsticks. Just the slipperiness of them. It’s going to be a challenge.”

“Oh, there’s no need to rush! Take it one food at a time, right?”

“Right,” Elsie said, nodding with a smile. “Let’s eat, then.”

“Jal meokgesseupnida,” I said out of habit.

“Say that one more time for me?”

I was taken aback by the sudden request. For a second, I almost forgot how to speak Korean. “Um, jal meokgesseupnida…?”

The confusion on her face didn’t go away. “Slower.”

I cleared my throat. “Jal…meok…ge…sseup…ni…da…”

“Okay. Jal…meokgesseup…nida?”

“Yeah, you got it!” Perhaps it was from the struggle on both our parts to get to this point, but I instantly gave her a round of applause.

Elsie laughed. “I’m trying my best to learn some Korean while I’m here. Reading is okay, but writing requires a lot of thinking beforehand. I have a spelling test coming up for one of my classes. Absolutely dreading it.”

“I can help you prepare,” I offered without a second thought. “When is it?”

“I still got a week. Thanks, Yura.”

I lingered over her last two words profoundly. This was the first thanks I heard from her since the day she moved in. But from what I recalled, it hadn’t sounded nearly this nice back then.

“Thank you,” I said back.

“Hm?” Elsie raised a brow at me whilst plowing some noodles into her mouth. Her chewing and swallowing earned me some time to think about a proper reply.

“I’ve been meaning to thank you for this morning.”

“For what? You were the one who cooked breakfast.”

“Well, for doing the dishes afterward.”

“Oh, that? It was nothing. It reminded me of my parents’ rule back at home. Whoever makes dinner, the other will clean up after. I suppose being the only child, neither of my parents ever thought to include me into that rule.” She paused for a moment in thought. “You know, Yura, I realized something after you left this morning. I haven’t been a good roommate.”

“What?” I blurted out in surprise. “What makes you say that?”

“I have barely been doing anything to help around in the flat. I think I grew up too privileged in that respect. I am sorry.”

First, she thanked me, and now she was apologizing to me. No one could make such a drastic change in one day! But if that was indeed impossible, then just how much of her had I been misunderstanding up until now?

“It’s garbage day, right?” she asked.

“Um, yeah. How did you know?”

“I’ve been paying attention.”

“Y-You were watching me?”

Her eyes widened as if I was the one to put her off guard this time. But she quickly regained her composure. “I mean, it is rather hard not to when your bed faces the door.”

“Oh, right…”

“Don’t worry about the garbage tonight. I’ll take care of it. And the dishes, too. I’ll do everything. Just go to bed, Yura. You’ve had a hard day of working.”

I was in such deep awe that I was at a loss for words. Could it be possible for someone to be too nice for comfort? Then again, I had been doing all of the major housework prior to this day, and from an objective point of view, this was what should have been fair. Us taking turns as roommates. But with Elsie having been the Elsie I was inclined to believe in, this new side of her had me in all sorts of confusion. Even my heart was restless at how to act around her right now.

With all this thinking and deliberating, I wound up completely neglecting my ramen. I had to eat them too soft and overcooked. However, overcooked ramen didn’t taste too bad for once. One could say I almost enjoyed them.