Saturday morning.
When I opened my eyes, sunlight was filling the room through the curtains.
Vancouver had been nothing but rain for days.
It was my first clear winter morning like this.
For no particular reason, I felt happy.
I cracked the window open.
Cold winter air seeped into the room.
I could hear seagulls in the distance.
The raindrops left on the branches in front of the house sparkled in the sunlight.
The smell of toast drifted up from downstairs.
The scent of melting butter.
The aroma of freshly brewed coffee.
And the sound of my homestay aunt quietly humming to herself.
That ordinary morning.
For some reason, it felt incredibly happy.
I went lightly down the stairs.
"Good morning."
"Morning, Youjung."
"Something smells really good."
"Fresh toast."
My homestay aunt smiled and held out some toast.
I took a bite of the warm toast.
The crisp crunch.
The melting butter.
The winter sunlight streaming in through the window.
For some reason, it felt like something good was going to happen today.
Just then.
The hot-pink Motorola RAZR on the table began to vibrate.
Without thinking, I flipped it open.
It was Ben.
Morning 🙂
Looks like Vancouver finally remembered what the sun is.
A smile escaped before I knew it.
It wasn't anything special.
And yet, somehow.
The morning grew a little brighter.
I quickly sent a reply.
Haha.
Finally.
A few seconds later, it vibrated again.
We should take advantage of it.
Coffee?
I let out a little laugh.
Coffee again.
But I didn't mind.
If anything.
It felt like the words I'd been waiting for.
Sure.
Same place?
His reply arrived almost immediately.
You read my mind.
Thirty minutes?
See you.
I smiled as I closed my phone.
The sunlight outside.
The smell of toast.
The warm coffee.
Everything was exactly the same.
But today, it was a slightly happier morning than yesterday.
The meeting place was always the same.
Tim Hortons.
The place where he first talked to me.
The place where we first had lunch together.
I arrived a little early.
I was sitting by the window, looking outside, when I saw Ben across the street.
He must have spotted me too, because he raised a hand.
This time, I waved first.
"Hey."
"Hey."
It was a much more natural greeting than the first time.
It felt as if we were old friends.
Once we'd gotten our coffees and sat down, Ben said with a smile,
"You know..."
"Your English is getting a lot better."
I shook my head.
"No way."
"I'm still terrible."
He laughed and took a sip of his coffee.
"Come on."
"We're actually having real conversations now."
"That's a pretty big improvement."
I smiled and shrugged.
"That's because you talk really slowly."
He gave me a playful grin.
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"Most people tell me I talk too much."
I burst out laughing too.
"Not me."
"I'm glad."
"Otherwise we'd probably still be talking about that breakfast combo."
I laughed and shook my head.
"You'll never let that go, will you?"
"Nope."
"I think it's a great story."
We both laughed for a long time.
We had an unusually lot to talk about that day.
Our favorite movies.
Stories from when we were kids.
Things that had happened at school.
Our families.
Whenever I got stuck in English and slowly pieced a sentence together.
Ben always waited for me.
He never hurried to say the words for me.
Until I finished speaking.
He listened quietly, smiling.
And so, somehow.
English wasn't scary anymore.
We finished our coffee and went outside.
The winter sunlight made the wet streets sparkle.
As we walked.
I suddenly asked,
"Ben."
"Hm?"
"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"Why did you talk to me that day?"
He thought for a moment, then smiled.
"Honestly?"
"You just seemed interesting."
"I kept seeing you around."
"And one day..."
"I figured..."
"Why not just say hi?"
I smiled.
"That's it?"
"That's it."
A brief silence.
Then he added with a grin,
"Besides..."
"You looked like you could use a little help."
"The breakfast combo?"
I burst out laughing.
"Exactly."
"I couldn't just let you lose a fight with a sandwich."
I clutched my stomach, laughing.
"You're impossible."
"I've heard that before."
He laughed along with me.
On the way home that day.
A thought suddenly occurred to me.
It wasn't that I had come to like Canada.
Nor was it because Vancouver was a special city.
It was because he was there.
This city was slowly becoming a place I liked.