⋆ฺ｡*:･ [ 23:48 ] ⋆ฺ｡*:･ yangyang & isabelle
“What do you miss most about Chicago?”
Isabelle’s sitting cross-legged on the end of her bed. She takes a thoughtful breath. “I don’t know. My family.”
YangYang nods. “What about your friends?”
“I didn’t have a lot,” she admits, picking away at a loose thread on her white comforter. “At least not in high school. So there really aren’t any to miss.”
His eyebrows scrunch together. “I’m sure there are people who miss you.”
“Probably not.” Isabelle takes one look at his vicariously distraught expression and knows she has to speak again. “When I was in high school, I knew what I wanted to do with my life. I knew I would move to Korea or Taiwan right after I graduated—it was all I thought about. I spent four years feeling like I was waiting for my ticket out. Having friends was selfish and stupid, because I knew I would never see them again.”
“It’s not selfish at all,” YangYang whispers, watching her nervous picking. “And that’s how life works. Most people never talk to each other after high school.”
“I know that now,” she assures, “but I was so caught up in what I wanted that I let go of what I had. It was so bad that I felt out of place in my own home.”
Before he asks it, he knows it’s a question that will linger in the air between them for a while before it’s answered. If. “Do you still feel like that?”
He’s right. Isabelle takes several moments to ponder, and he doesn’t pressure her. “I don’t know,” she replies honestly, eyes downcast. “Maybe. I’ve never been good at making friends. I love my family with everything in me, but sometimes I feel like they’re all I’ll ever have. Like I could never build my own family of people I’d die for. I’ve always wanted to have someone worth so much more than any thing I could ever have or accomplish. Like there’s something wrong with me . . .”
“There’s nothing wrong with you.” YangYang reaches for her shaking hand and squeezes it tightly. He waits until she looks up at him. “Trust me, one day you’ll have a group of people you love like your own family. Maybe you’ve already found them.”
“You think Co could be really that?” Isabelle asks. “That we’re gonna be that close?”
A small smile creeps onto his face. “I do.”
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