“This Is America.”

“Will we go soon? I don’t want to be late.”

I look at Good Man. “Half the time, in Korea, you were still asleep when you were supposed to be at my apartment.”

Good Man gives me a half grin. “Yeah, but…um…” He stares at the ceiling, thinking.

I know what he’s thinking, so I say it. “‘Yeah, but, um, this is America. Not Korea.'”

Good Man cocks his forefinger and points it at me. “Yeah, you are right!”

“I know you.”