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New York in late spring was definitely much more up Lisa’s alley than when she had last visited the city in November.
Obviously, it was still much cooler than the temperatures she was used to – but at least she didn’t have to wear three pullovers and her puffer jacket like she had back in winter.
Which was a relief, because she still vividly remembers the weirded-out looks she’d received from some pedestrians and really, there’s only so much embarrassment a person can take.
So yeah, Lisa’s grateful for the mild-15-degrees-cloudy-weather that helps her settle into her new life across the ocean.
It’s also the reason she first sees her – because Lisa, in a silly fit of athleticism and support for the environment, decided to cycle to the Joan Weill Center every day. Or at least until the first snow - or the day her lungs decided to give up on her.
As she was unlocking her bike on the side of the road, a flash of ruby-red in the corner of her eye catches her attention and her head follows on instinct, almost as if she were a bull.
The girl wearing the bright, almost offending parka seems to be in a hurry, because Lisa’s still sleepy sight nearly misses her.
She’s got pitch black hair though and Lisa watches how it flows in the soft wind until the girl turns around a corner and it’s like she’s never even been there at all.
The second time Lisa sees her, she’s not alone.
It’s some windy days later when Lisa rounds the corner onto her street and instantly her eyes land on something red again.
This time though, the parka is joined by a green raincoat walking beside it.
“How the hell was I supposed to know he meant coffee as in ‘coffee’?” The air quotes red-parka-girl uses to accentuate her last word seem almost mocking – as is the loud laugh coming from the one in green.
“Oh come on, Jen. You weren’t born yesterday, were you?”, raincoat-girl says, just as Lisa parks her bike on the other side of the narrow side street.
And even though she was busy attaching her helmet and lock to her bicycle, she could hear every word. And she wasn’t eavesdropping – really, she wasn’t – still, she took her time with the task at hand because there was this little rasp in parka-girls voice that just made her pause.
“Oi. You better watch yourself, Kim Jisoo or I’ll unleash your girlfriend on you.”
The snort like laugh echoing from the other side at that almost makes Lisa look up, but she stops herself at the very last moment.
“As if Rosie would ever turn on me. But good try intimidating me, babe. Better luck next time.”
If the banter stopped there or if parka-girl came up with another comment would remain a secret to Lisa, because at that moment, a door slams shut loudly and the voices get swallowed up behind it.
Only then Lisa dares to look up from where her eyes had been glued to an already long locked bike.
The rust-red front door of her neighbor’s house almost haunting in its color.
She sees her a few times after that.
Once when Lisa’s dragging home two full-to-the-brim shopping bags from the farmers market on a sunny Saturday – sweat dripping down the side of her head and of course – of course – that’s also the first time red-parka-girl, who’s not wearing the parka but a cute flowery summer dress, locks eyes with her.
And really, Lisa would’ve been more embarrassed about the exhausted state she’s in – if it wasn’t for the way dark eyes light up for a second or two, before they move away again.
And if Lisa’s still standing in front of her buildings entrance long after parka-girl left, so what? The bags are heavy and she needs a minute to regain strength, okay?
Nothing to do with wavy dark curls or little white flowers on a light blue dress or almond shaped eyes.
Another time, Lisa’s late. Like, very late.
She’d been up all night practicing and then forgot to set her alarm – she’s only human after all, so of course she’d grabs her things in a hurry and sprints out the house towards her bike, not noticing the three girls standing on the opposite side of the street staring at her as she almost tumbles over her vehicle in order to unlock it as fast as humanly possible.
“You should really wear head protection driving that thing in this city.”
Lisa jerks up her head hearing those words and it’s only then she realizes that she indeed forgot her helmet upstairs.
“Yeah I.. I..”, she stammers as three pairs of eyes scrutinize her. She feels the embarrassment creeping up her neck and settling inside her cheeks when she locks eyes with red-parka-girl who sends her a tight-lipped smile and then turns to elbow another girl in the side, muttering an almost inaudible “Stop trying to educate everyone, Rosie.”.
Green-raincoat-girl who has her arms locked with the addressed immediately steps in and slaps parka-girls shoulder.
“You stop violating my girlfriend, Jendeukie.”
“You keep out of it, unnie.”
“Hey, are you calling me old?”
“Well, if the shoe fits it fits.”
“Shiiiib… you little..”
“Kids, come on, stop fighting.”
Lisa’s watch vibrates on her wrist, letting her know that she missed the start of her first class and as much as she would’ve enjoyed staying just a little longer – she’s a good student, generally, so she hops on her bike and, with one last glance back, zooms off.
It’s the same day, late into the evening, when she sees her again.
She’s traded the red parka for an elegant blue coat and she’s wearing heels, typing away on her phone as she’s sitting on the steps leading to her building’s front door.
Lisa picks up a slightly nervous vibe even before she sees red-parka-girls leg bouncing up and down.
While locking up her bike, Lisa mind – without asking – jumps to approximately twenty different scenarios as to why her neighbor might be feeling anxious.
And when, right after she straightens up and dares to gaze over at her, a black car pulls up and a handsome young man gets out – she realizes that this scenario was probably the worst one.
He greets her with a kiss to her cheek and Lisa’s stomach almost drops straight through the floor, if it wasn’t for the fact that red-parka-girl turns her head away from him – ever so slightly, barely recognizable – her sight landing on Lisa and just for a second, almond-shaped eyes light up. Ever so slightly. Barely recognizable.
But Lisa feels it even after the car drove off into the night.
It’s not like she thinks about her all the time after that.
She’ s not like.. in love or anything.
She’s living her life. Going to school. Practicing. Making friends. Studying. Doing housework in her tiny apartment. You know, the usual.
But still, every time she steps out of her building, her eyes immediately drift over to that rust-red door.
She just can’t help it. It’s something subconscious she figures. As is that tingling feeling in her chest whenever she actually does see her.
Sometimes she’s alone. Sometimes she’s with him. More often than either of that though, she’s accompanied by green-raincoat and her girlfriend – almost always chattering about this or that. Studies, homework, plans to visit family in Korea, birthday presents, parties they don’t want to attend but have to, politics, Matcha Lattes. And relationships…
It’s on an unusually hot summers day when Lisa gets home from an incredibly harsh dance rehearsal – every muscle in her body aching – that she gets the front row seat to that topic.
Red-parka-girl is standing a few feet away on the other sidewalk, face twisted in anger as she listens to whatever it is black-imposter-car-guy (Lisa thinks it’s a pretty fitting name) is saying to her in a hushed voice.
He’s almost two heads taller, hovering over her and Lisa’s instincts kick in as she slows down her walk – ready to cross that road should he even as much as try to breath in the wrong direction.
But when red-parka-girl only shakes her head in disbelief after he finishes talking and he takes off without another word, Lisa releases the breath she’s been holding for what feels like forever.
Her neighbor closes her eyes as she takes a few deep breaths – something Lisa’s seen her do before – and then straightens her back as if to shake off what just happened, eyes slowly opening as she does so.
Her sight lands on Lisa rooted to the spot on the other side of the road and her perfectly shaped eyes open slightly in shock – clearly not having wanted to attract attention whatsoever.
In an attempt of support – or simply out of stupidity, she doesn’t really know – Lisa sends her a curt nod, accompanied by a small smile.
It takes a few seconds – seconds that feel like a lifetime in which Lisa wishes to be swallowed by the floor – and then parka-girl nods back and quickly turns to head back inside.
And Lisa? Lisa forgets how to breathe for the millionth time.
It’s only a few days later when they see each other again in passing. And it would be the understatement of the century to say that Lisa wasn’t surprised by the little nod red-parka-girl – now almost always in a flowy summer dress – threw her way.
It would also be an understatement to say that she didn’t think about that the whole day. Or two.
It starts to become a habit for both of them after that.
Whenever they see each other from across the road, there’s a smile and a nod. No words.
Just a little acknowledgment.
And Lisa’s living for it. Looks forward to it – that small little moment, no matter how infrequently, when dark eyes lock onto hers for a second and seem to shine a little brighter just for her.
She knows of course – deep inside of her – that it’s nothing more than neighbors casually greeting each other.
But even deeper down, she can’t shake the feeling that it’s more than that.
Because she knows her.
She knows that red-parka-girl taps the tip of her nose when she’s irritated, knows that she crosses her arms when she’s cold, knows that she doesn’t talk much when she’s angry or hurt, that she likes to hug her friends when they had a harsh day, that she drinks her Matcha Latte even on cold fall-days and that she calls her mother on her way home after dark. Lisa knows that this girl not once has a bad-hair-day and that she whistles only on days when the sun is shining.
Lisa knows. Because she’s attentive – okay maybe very attentive when it comes to red-parka-girl – but it’s always been completely accidentally. It’s not as if she’s trying to force these encounters – really, cross her heart and all.
And it’s only after an especially cold day in October – the day after she’d stood frozen on the pavement for several minutes because parka-girl had casually waved at her smiling – that Lisa finally snaps.
So she puts on her newly purchased red scarf and heads out to the coffee around the corner.
When she comes back from the shop, she almost misses her at first.
Red-parka-girl’s sitting on the front steps of her building, hunched forward, her chin resting on her hand. No phone in sight, just a faint crease between her eyebrows that Lisa’s never seen there before.
She slows down, observing the other girl for a second longer than necessary.
She looked… troubled. Something, Lisa realizes, she’s never really seen red-parka-girl being all these times she’s encountered her.
And that’s when Lisa hesitates.
She could just nod, walk past and head upstairs. That’s what she usually did anyway – small smiles, stolen glances and silence thick with things unsaid.
But then something cold in her hands brings her back to reality and without thinking twice, she crosses the road and walks up the steps.
“Locked out?”
Her voice comes out shakier than she meant it to, but Lisa recovers quickly by clearing her throat.
Red-parka-girl blinks up at her almost stunned and then lets out a little heavenly laugh, almost embarrassed.
“Yeah. Waiting for my roommate. Could be a while.”
Lisa shrugs and – in a burst of bravery - sits down on the step beside her, careful not to look too directly at her face.
“Then we might as well wait together, if you don't mind. I brought this… figured you might like it.”
Dark-brown almond-shaped eyes widen as she takes the cup and sniffs at it.
“Matcha?” she asks completely amazed – like her favorite drink was a secret Lisa wasn’t supposed to know.
Which was fair enough, but the moment her sight met Lisa’s, there was an understanding glimmering in her orbs that almost renders Lisa speechless.
Almost.
“I’ve seen you carrying one often enough. Thought I’d try my luck.”
For a second, neither of them says anything and the silence stretches until the other girl takes a sip and hums in appreciation.
And if Lisa thinks it’s the prettiest sound she’s ever heard, so what?
She’s still replaying it in her head when red-parka-girl nudges her.
“So, no yellow jumper today huh?”
And Lisa… well, Lisa completely freezes at that statement, because…
“I mean, don’t get me wrong. I really like the new scarf, but I’m so used to seeing you in yellow…”
She falls silent as a blush creeps onto her cheeks and Lisa really isn’t sure if she’s still breathing anymore.
Could it be that..? After all this time.. No it couldn’t. Right?
She’s still very much in her head, when a voice she remembers belonging to a green raincoat wakes her from her daze.
“I’m here, I’m here! I swear to God, Jen. The day you don’t forget anything will be a cold day in hell. How many times do I need to tell you that--. Oh.”
She stops dead in her tracks when she looks up from her phone and her sight lands on Lisa.
She blinks a few times and before Lisa can even say Hi, she’s grinning like a fool.
Red-parka-girl tenses only slightly, the grip on her Matcha Latte tightening as she fixes her friend with a heavy gaze.
And then she says something that has Lisa’s mind go blank once again.
“Holy shit you finally grew some and talked to your crush! About damn time. Proud of you babe!”
Green-raincoat-girl squeezes past them in a breeze, shouting a “Now if you invite her in, I’ll give you a cookie.” from inside the building where she’d left the door ajar.
The silence following is almost as loud as raincoat-girls voice and Lisa’s thoughts combined.
But just when she thinks she might die, there’s a warm little hand grabbing onto hers and Lisa’s eyes lock onto dark-brown orbs that hold onto her.
“Hi. I’m Jennie.”, parka-girl says softly, her grip tightening slightly.
And Lisa. Lisa breaths deeply before squeezing Jennie’s hand back gently as they both smile at each other.
“Hi Jennie. I’m Lisa.”
Jennie blinks and nods as her thumb moves over Lisa’s knuckles in a whisper of a caress.
“Lisa.”, she says, almost as if it’s a prayer, as if that name was something holy.
“Would you like to come inside?”
“Love to.”