Part 3: The Date

(Read Part 1 here)

(Read Part 2 here)

You give her a big, slightly clumsy hug, perhaps holding on a moment too long, and then let go just as quickly. "The car is parked out back, if that's okay," you manage. She nods, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips. You start with the usual small talk – asking about her day – but quickly realize the conversation is stalling. The gears in your brain are grinding; you need to start speaking Korean, and fast, because you are definitely not ready to pull out a translation app like this is a 90 Day Fiancé date. You muster all your willpower, dredging up dusty words from the part of your brain reserved for conversations with your mother. It's an odd archive to pull from, but you think it's worth it for her.

You open the Evo door for her. She glances at the car-share logo, then at you, and politely reserves her comment, though you can imagine the twenty-five different ways she could gently mock you for it. She's shy, you remember. As you drive somewhat aimlessly towards downtown, you apologize for your less-than-conversational Korean, but she just waves it off, seemingly unbothered. You ask how long she's been in Vancouver, what she likes and dislikes. And then, she starts to open up – about the trials of getting her working visa, the stark differences in culture she notices every day. You find yourself nodding along, agreeing that it must be incredibly difficult to start anew in a culture that can feel so alienating. You keep stealing glances at her, partly to see if she's actually enjoying your company, but mostly because she's just so damn cute. You quickly snap your eyes back to the road as you nearly drift onto the curb. Whoops.