Holy Cwap. It's been a while. I apologise to those who occasionally drop by for updates.

Since I have a clearer head now, I think I can post more story bits. Done with Chapter VI! Chapter VII: "Limbo" will be up SOON. Cheers!


ANNOUNCEMENT:

-- Chapter Renaming --
Chapter VI: "Salad" -> "Unravel"
Chapter VII: "Craving" -> "Limbo"

6.1.13

Halfway Valentine | Chapter XIX: Pink Elephants and Pink Post-its PART 1

Yea, Benedykt . . .” JJ clicked his tongue. “His dark, brooding ‘I’m from the wrong side of tracks’ look is a bit cliché, isn’t it?” He took a wooden block and placed it on the topmost level of our Jenga tower. We had been playing and gossiping in the lounge for a while already.

I sipped on my hot cocoa. “Uh-huh. Seanski tried that last semester but he was unsuccessful,” I said. “He’s just one of the world’s biggest babies. Needs his mug of hot milk before bed, you know what I mean.”

JJ looked pensive. “I think Ben could pull it off, though. He has evil eyes. And deep cleft chin. And huge hands. Probably built for pulling out a car fender and smashing a 10-foot wedding cake with it,” he mused. Then his eyes sparkled. “How ‘bout Zoe, the spunk NZedder?”

“There’s something familiar about that girl,” I said, pursing my lips in thought. “Like I’ve seen her from somewhere . . . but I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

“Maybe you also saw her in your dreams like Cook,” JJ said. “I mean, I’ve had fantasies of her last night.”

“Sure, Jay,” I said dully. “Whatever you say.”

“Do you think she really likes getting wet and wild with girls?” JJ asked.

“She said prefer, JJ. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t do it with boys too,” I pointed out. “And if it was Cook giving you his indecent proposals, every girl with a functioning brain would most likely respond the same.”

JJ nodded his agreement. “Yea, point taken.”

“Oh, are we talking about Zoe Hammond?” Panda mumbled through a carrot stick. “She’s very cute, but very gay too.”

“You can’t say that, Pandora,” I said dryly, removing then putting another piece on the tower of blocks.

“Oh, I can. I have super gaydar,” Panda said, chewing loudly. “It’s like an X-ray. And when I look at Zoe, I see unicorns and rainbows and Froot Loops in a bowl of Cheerios and—”

“She’s a 100-footer,” Sarah, the Korean girl, declared, suddenly marching into the lounge. “Another slap in the face of the disagreeable male population.”

“100-footer?” Panda repeated with a quizzical face.

“From a hundred feet away, you can already tell she’s gay,” Sarah explained.

“Wow,” JJ said, mentally counting the Jenga blocks and analysing its structure. “Good to learn from a perspective of a highly-intellectual girl with exemplary spatial skills.”

“It’s not rocket science, sweetie. Her killer biceps and blow-up doll are dead give-aways,” Sarah said sweetly. She craned her head to see what we were doing. “Ooh. Mind if I join? I love Jenga!”

All of us grinned. “Take your spot,” I offered nicely. Sarah parked herself between JJ and Panda on the floor.

“She’s an athlete and the inflatable woman is strictly for sneaking purposes,” JJ argued, getting back to the topic. Sarah took her turn. And boy was she quick.

Sarah arched a brow. “Right. How sure are you of that?”

Panda looked a bit preoccupied bumping blocks to find a loose one.

“She said so herself,” JJ replied matter-of-factly. “Fondle’s job is to act as a non-living alibi.”

Sarah smirked. “Well, I tell people that I have a pair of drumsticks named Bull and Shit which I use for banging the drums, of course, but I don’t tell them that I use them to beat stray cats, too.”

JJ’s jaw fell open. “You’re joking, right?” 

“About the stray cats, yes,” Sarah replied, cleaning the lenses of her red-framed eyeglasses. “That’s kinda brutal, don’t you think? I use them on stray centipedes, rather. By the way, it’s your turn, Emily.”

“Actually I was more bothered by the drumsticks named Bull and Shit,” I muttered, cautiously poking a block.

“I have a rice cooker and I enjoy torturing black ants on its moist lid. Sometimes little flies,” Panda blurted blithely. “Whichever I spot first.”

JJ scowled. “Okay. Enough with the insect cruelty, girls. I have SPCI on speed dial,” he said, genuinely bothered. “Anyway, and notwithstanding Panda’s super gaydar and Sarah’s cerebral conjecture, I am still sticking to Zoe’s not gay.”

Panda pursed her lips. “Perhaps we should ask Effy,” she said. “You know, Sarah, Effy’s got super powers. She can Jedi mind-trick you.”

Sarah shot Panda an arch expression first before quickly removing a loose block. “She must be, at least, bi,” she told the group. She put the block on top of the tower.

“She gave Emsy and Effy the look,” Panda added. “And . . . I think I’ll pass. I don’t trust my gawky fingers right now.”

“What look?” I queried, taking my turn. The tower swayed a bit which made all of us gasp.

“The ‘I’m into fannies and yours is lookin’ good’ look,” Panda answered. “Halo taught me that.”

“You could’ve just misinterpreted the ‘Let’s be BFFs and have sleepovers together’ look, Panda,” JJ said, as he took his turn. He was trying to find the perfect spot to place the block. The tower already looked dangerously wobbly.

“Yes. Sleepovers that include Fondle and an awful amount of fondling,” Sarah deadpanned. “Gay, I’m telling you. Indubitably gay—”

The door suddenly opened, and someone strode in eagerly. “I love a discussion. What’s the topic?” It was Zoe, looking a little intrigued.

Crash!

The tower collapsed. JJ was so red in the face.

JJ gulped hard. “We – uh – erm – we were – we w-were just talking about—”

“How we think your roommate is gay,” Panda filled in, ever so casually. “Fondle?”

Zoe didn’t even flinch. “I have to agree,” she said, chuckling softly. “Fondle’s so gay. Sometimes she’d dress up as Xena the Warrior Princess, or The Bride, sometimes Lara Croft, and we would make out with Katy Perry songs in the background. She just loves role-playing.” She gave the lad a flirty wink.

JJ laughed. “Holy dooley, Zoe. You are quite the comed—” He saw nobody was laughing. His bewildered eyes flicked from me to the other girls and back again. “That was a joke, right?” he asked.

Zoe only gave him a blank face.

JJ stared at Zoe. “No?”

Zoe’s expression didnt change.

JJ gulped. “Oh.”


“Jesus, the service here is shit,” I said loudly as a lanky waiter with messy, dark hair approached us. “We’ve been waiting forever! For Pete’s sake!”

Zoe, Sarah, and Evan stared at me, obviously embarrassed. I grinned.

“Very funny, Rouge,” the waiter said. “If you want to show everybody what truly superior Keith’s Pub service looks like, your girlfriend is welcome to take my shift for me, and I’ll sit here and hang out with you and your friends while Naomi struggles for small talk.”

“Okay, okay, I take it back,” I replied. “Naomi works here part-time,” I explained to the shocked group. “Freds, this is Zoe, Sarah, and Evan. New kids in town. Guys, this is Freddie. He stays in the dorm as well.”

“Hi, Freddie. We’ve never seen this redhead before,” Sarah declared, offering Freddie her hand. “She just sat down here with us and we were afraid to ask her to leave. She looks dangerously unstable.”

Freddie grinned as he shook Sarah’s hand, his dark brown eyes twinkling. “You wanna talk dangerously unstable, you should see Emily wrestle with calligraphy brushes. So, what can I get you guys?”

Still chuckling, Sarah answered, “I’ll have a Cosmopolitan. Gin and Tonic for Evan. And Zoe?”

Zoe cocked her head at me. “What do you recommend, Emily?”

“Pink Elephant,” I quickly answered.

“Pink Elephant? What’s in it?” Zoe asked curiously.

“Vodka, orange juice, and a dash of Grenadine syrup,” I answered. “Fucking A.”

“Grenadine . . .” Zoe’s eyes narrowed in thought. “Sounds dangerous. Okay. I’ll have that.”

Freddie turned to me. “And a Mojito for my favourite redhead?”

A pleased smile curved my mouth. “You know it, Frédéric.” When Freddie made his way back to the counter, I turned to Zoe with a smirk. “So, I’m assuming Fondle’s already on her shift.” 

Zoe laughed. “You bet. Complete with Enya music for her lullaby.”

“Well done,” I said easily. “I’m sure Yoshida-san wouldn’t suspect a bit. Unless JJ sneaked into your room and kidnapped Fondle.”

She let out a chuckle. “How’s JJ, by the way?” she asked. “Still in shock?”

“You should’ve seen him after that Jenga game,” I blurted. “He was genuinely at a loss for words.”

“I know that was a little naughty, what I said,” Zoe said, dimples appearing as she grinned.

“It wasn’t a ‘little’ naughty, Zoe,” I said, chuckling softly. “JJ would not be able to erase that image of you and inflatable Lara Croft snogging in your bed from his subconscious. Ever.”

“So, JJ’s into the Tomb Raider heroine?” she asked.

I nodded, smirking. “You have no idea. You know he got obsessed with his current girlfriend because her name was Lara,” I revealed. “For a while he tried to look for a Zelda but, of course, no one’s fucking named Zelda.”

Zoe could only laugh in response.

Evan leant across the table. “Need a li’l help, Emily,” he began. “The placement exam’s in two days. Got any tips to share?”

“Just don't bite off more than you can handle,” I said. “You might not want to face a bloody Japanese newspaper without knowledge of Kanji characters first, right?”

Evan nodded, leaning back in his chair. “Deep . . . but I’ve kept up.” He grinned. “Thanks, Ma’am.”

Zoe leant in, rested her elbows on the table, then mindlessly toyed with a Tabasco sauce bottle. “I can get into any class I want,” she said. There was recklessness in her eyes. When she saw our bewildered faces, she smirked. “I’m just sayin’.”

Sarah snorted, then she pulled down her glasses to peer at Zoe over the frames. “I know you’re a bit of a reckless badass, Zoe, but that was such a bold statement you just made. Not to mention ridiculous.”

Zoe smirked wickedly, looking up under her lashes at me. “What class are you in, Emily?”

“Well, they let all of us climb a level up so I’m assuming I’ll be in . . . Class 1B?” I replied tentatively. “The one with the newspaper, unfortunately.”

“Class 1B . . .” Pursing her lips, Zoe examined her nails coolly. “Sweet. I’ll be in that class.”

My gaze narrowed at her in bemusement. “How can you possibly—?”

“Just believe me, Emily,” Zoe said, straightening up. “I’ll see you in class.” She winked flirtily.

Freddie returned with our drinks. “And, Mademoiselle Sarah, you better be a big tipper since I know you’ve got a glamorous, cushy job,” he told Sarah with a wink.

Sarah squinted at Freddie. “What are you talking about, mister?”

“I heard you did some modeling back in Seoul,” said Freddie.

“For lollipops and strawberry pretzels,” Sarah said dryly. “People kept calling me a model but, all along, I thought I was a clown.” She pushed her wavy black hair behind her back. “Plus, I’d rather be regarded as the pom-pom chick or the dance floor diva, thank you very much.” She took a quick sip of her drink.

Taking a sip of my Mojito, I gave Sarah an arch look. If I had met the Korean girl six months ago, I would’ve thought she was incurably crazy. But having Karen and Halo as your friend elevates the level of nuttiness you could tolerate. So Sarah is only, perhaps, 0.4 degrees crazier than Halo and 0.7 less crazy than Karen. Not that bad.

I looked at Freddie. “Freds, do you have a piece of paper or something?”

“Yea, hold on, I got some here . . .” He fished out a pad of pink post-its from the pocket of his apron. “Here you are. And a pen.” He handed them to me.

“Thanks.” I started scrawling down my phone number on the top page. “Please give me a call as soon as you get your mobile phones, okay?” I told the three, flashing them a warm smile.

Zoe looked directly at me, with intensity. “Aren’t we glad we have the best dorm buddy?”

I trained my eyes back on what I was writing. “Trust me, I’m not the best,” I managed to say calmly. “You should’ve met the Boss.”

“The Boss,” the three of them echoed.

“Yes, the Boss,” I said, not looking up. “Freddie’s sister, Karen. She’s insane.”

Sarah shrugged. “So am I.”

I lifted my head to look at her. “No. Believe me, she’s insane,” I emphasised.

Sarah nodded slowly. “Oh, that insane.”

I made three copies, tore them out of the pad when a couple of pages fell on my lap. One had weird doodles on it – Freddie must have gotten really bored; the other one had some sort of a handwritten note on it. I picked the note up and began reading:


Poor Freds.

It never changed.

When Freddie came back to our table, I gave him a forced smile which weirded him out a bit then I quickly folded the paper and stuck it in the back pocket of my jeans.

Freddie regarded the new kids. “I’m guessing you guys have never been to Blackout?”

Zoe, Sarah and Evan only gave him looks of anticipation.

“It’s the Promised Land. Just a few blocks away from here,” Freddie filled in. “We have to take you. Next week sometime, definitely. I don’t know about you guys, but I feel like I haven’t done anywhere near enough frolicking since spring break.”

“You can never do too much frolicking,” I agreed.

“So, are you guys kicking in?” Freddie asked, raising his brows.

“Sarah should be,” Evan said. “She gotta put those dancing moves on show.”

“Are you kidding me?” Sarah gasped with a big grin. “Show me where the dance floor is!”


“JJ, slow down. Who do you think you are the goalkeeper?” Sarah complained as JJ led her.

“I could say the same thing to Naomi here,” I said. My hand was locked tightly in Naomi’s as she led me through the maze of the stadium parking lot toward the gates swarming with football enthusiasts.

“Sorry,” JJ said, slowing down. “I didn’t think a cheerleader like you would want to miss the kickoff.”

We stopped just in front of this huge inflatable soccer ball. It was the last week of March—the beginning of the season of the celebrated national football tournament, J-League. Kyoto Purple Sanga’s first match will be against the back-to-back champions Kashima Antlers. Ergo, today’s kickoff game shall be a memorable one.

“C’mon, Aki, pick up,” Cook muttered into his phone. “Jaysus.” He had been trying to contact our Los Ma teammate, Aki, who had our tickets.

“Oh, baby, it suits you perfectly,” Naomi said, fixing the purple Kyoto Sanga FC scarf she bought for me around my neck. She drew me into her embrace and kissed me. She brought her lips against my ear and said, “You know we could skip the football game and have our own little match back at the dorm. I’ll referee and keep score. All you have to do is play along.”

“Ah, there you are!” Aki called, panting, as he hurried toward us. “Thank God for Emily’s hair, I’ve spotted you in this horde of people.” He took out a bunch of tickets. “Here are your tickets. And we should hurry. The crowd is already practicing the cheers.”

I blushed furiously and shoved Naomi aside to quickly grab my seat ticket from Aki. “Thanks, Aki. We really should hurry before Naomi here changes my mind.”

Naomi was still laughing when we walked past through the gates. We had been consumed by the throng. To keep us from getting separated, Naomi wrapped her arms around my waist and positioned me in front of her. She held me tight against her as we made our way slowly toward the ramp that led to our reserved seats.

Her breath on my ear, against my cheek, on the back of my neck, was a sweet airy caress. “I think you’re taking unfair advantage, Naomes,” I said, a smirk tugging one corner of my mouth.

“And you’re absolutely right.” Naomi moved her arm up a fraction until it lay just below my breasts. No one in the mob would have noticed. “But can you blame me when I’m with the most beautiful girl in the entire stadium?”

“Even more beautiful than Natalia?” I said with cattiness, referring to the Bulgarian babe who was getting quite friendly with Naomi. “You two are obviously getting matey and she certainly has a couple of fine attributes.”

“I like your attributes better.”

She jostled her arm enough to lift my breasts slightly to convey her message loud and clear. My sharp gasp caused Panda beside me to whip her head around.

“Oh, sorry. Did I step on your foot, Emsy?” Panda asked, alarmed.

I shook my head. “No, Panda.” Naomi’s chest vibrated with silent laughter.

We located our seats in time for the kickoff and were soon caught up with the excitement of the season opener. Zoe, who was seated beside me, and Cook, next to her, were already feeling the thrill as they kept cheering ‘the hooligan way’. The afternoon was glorious. The spring sun was shining, though a northern breeze kept the temperature moderate. By the end of the first half I had grown warm beneath my scarf and bright blue cardigan and asked Naomi to help me out of it.

After that I felt much more comfortable, but couldn’t help noticing Zoe’s increasing restlessness. She wasn’t able to sit still even during lulls in the game.

When Naomi and Panda left to get us hotdogs and drinks, I decided to take the plunge.

“Is something wrong?” I asked Zoe, concerned. She didn’t look unwell. “Is something wrong?” I repeated, when she seemed disinclined to answer me.

“No,” Zoe said brusquely. “Far from it.” She muttered a curse under her breath.

Kyoto Sanga executed an intricate play to gain a corner and the crowd rose to its feet, cheering with frenzy. Heedless, I placed an anxious hand on Zoe’s arm. “Zoe?” I inquired worriedly.

Zoe then fixed me with her brown eyes and asked, “Did you have to wear such a revealing top?”

Dumbstruck I looked down at my chest. The top itself was not particularly revealing, but the wind, deceptively mild, had detailed the curves beneath it. Unable to meet her eyes, I struggled to pull on my cardigan again and feigned absorption in the activities of the field.

I felt a lot more relaxed when Naomi returned and for a long while I was just sipping on my can of Mountain Dew.

“Em, you all right?” Naomi searched my face, concerned. “You look pale.”

I only kissed Naomi’s cheek, took her hand and intertwined my fingers with hers. She smiled and kissed my temple in return.

Truth is, I did not want to add more friction between Naomi and Zoe. Naomi was already annoyed by the fact that I was spending more time with the new kids given that I was their dorm buddy. And some new residents had been very friendly. Zoe, especially. She would always invite me to have dinner, go to the mall, go to the gym, go bikini-shopping, etc. And, of course, I would always say no. 

The game progressed to a climactic conclusion, Kyoto Sanga scoring a winning goal in the final three minutes. Exiting the stadium was just as slow as entering had been.

“I wasn’t complaining, you know,” Zoe said after a while, causing me to blush. “It was just a bit distracting.”

“It wasn’t intentional,” I said tartly, pausing to face her until the tide of spectators shoved us forward again.

“I never thought it was. Sorry if it embarrassed you.” Zoe’s eyes and tone of voice were sincere.

I smiled my forgiveness. “Sorry if I acted defensively.”

Zoe took my hand the same time Naomi took my other hand.

Naomi tugged me toward the exit. “Ems, c’mon before we get stuck in—”

Zoe tugged me toward the opposite direction. “Emily, let’s check out the souvenir shop—”

When they realised I was immovable, the two girls whirled around and found out about our knotty situation. My eyes flicked between the two in dread. I gulped. Uh-oh.

Naomi regarded Zoe with an irritated look. “Really, Zoe. Really,” she said. “If you want someone to drag into everything you do, go find yourself a girlfriend. I’m not sharing mine.” Her grip tightening, the blonde then pulled me toward the gates. 

 

“I can honestly say that was the worst curry I have ever eaten,” Sarah declared as she eyed the remains of it on her lunch plate.

“I’m not sure that chicken was graded for human consumption,” Freddie agreed.

“Well, Halo’s cooking notwithstanding, we all know I have no culinary standards,” Thomas said. “And we don’t know what they will be serving tonight at the welcome party so I downed a couple of thighs.”

Panda glared at Thomas. “Don’t insult dear Halo,” she chided. “She’s already living in peace.”

I patted my well-satiated stomach as I looked around the cafeteria. Dozens of conversations were in progress, the exchange students realising that this was going to be one of those very few free times when the real classes begin. Today was the HEP Orientation and placement exams, and now all students were flocked in the school cafeteria for lunch.

Zoe and Evan were sitting with Ichiro a table over, and I saw Zoe chatting with that mysterious bad boy, Ben. She was telling everyone how she had been training for the London 2012 Olympics. Another figjam, that girl. In the brief time I’d been able to see Zoe in action, she reminded me way too much of Taylor Clairmont, my first girlfriend. That is, thoroughly cute on the outside, thoroughly manipulative on the inside. Exactly the kind of girl who could make you lose your mind with their mind games and mixed signals. One minute she’s flirting with you, then you see her giggling with random boys the next. And there was still something very familiar about her. It’s like I’ve seen her before but could not pinpoint where and when exactly.

I was a little scared for her too. She had quickly become Naomi’s favourite nemesis. And who would want to be against the infamous Aussie blonde?

No one.

But judging from the way Zoe stared back and glared back at Naomi after that football game, I think this Zoe Hammond will be a tough one to crush. She was not, even the slightest bit, intimidated by the blonde. I thought she was even thrilled at the idea. I don’t know. I just hope I’m wrong.

And Evan . . . I don’t know. I liked the boy on sight. He’d been a great company. Also a perfect gentleman. Good-looking. Add guitar skills to that, like what he had mentioned during the dorm welcome party. But I don’t know. I see him as a threat. Plus the fact that he had similarities with David, Naomi’s ex-boyfriend.

Not that I actually know Evan is like David, I thought. I haven’t even had a decent one-on-one conversation with the guy. But sometimes you just get a feeling about someone. Again, I just hope I’m wrong.

“You thinking about Miss Phelps over there?” Effy said, cocking her head toward Zoe.

“Definitely not,” I lied. “Clearly she thinks enough of herself already. Miss I'm training for the Olympics.” I snorted. What a right figjam.

Effy only smirked at me. 

We watched the other table for a moment as Evan made Zoe laugh. Then, Zoe grabbed his biceps and squeezed.

“You know who Evan reminds me of?” I asked.

“David,” Effy and I declared at the same time.

“You too, huh?” I folded my arms. “Definitely not a good omen.”

“Actually, I’m more concerned with Miss Phelps.”

I squinted at Effy. “What do you mean?”

“You’ll see,” Effy’s words were punctuated by a loud ‘Ew!’ from Sarah, who stood up from her seat, scowling.

Sarah took off her eyeglasses and hooked them on the neck of her yellow tunic. “Look, James Cook, let’s get something straight right off the bat. I’m quite sure pesky flirtation is extremely successful for you, and I wish you all the luck in the world with whatever females at this school happen to bleep on your I’d-love-a-piece-of-that radar, but I’m not going to be one of them.”

Cook threw his head back and laughed. “Jaysus, Sang-min, ye’re priceless!”

“It’s Sarah, and I ain’t kidding, sweetie. Now excuse me, I need to get some tea to wipe off some of your doucheness that crept into my throat.” Sarah took off at a trot, leaving a bemused Cook behind.

A big smile stretched across Freddie’s face. “I can see it now, in technicolour,” he said, the future of our chaotic little gang.”


“Hey, girlfriend!” Sarah sang out, bounding onto the corner stool next to me at the school underground café. It was Friday morning, and after the previous night’s festivities, I felt the need for some serious pre-Research class sugar. “Iced hazelnut hitotsu onegaishimasu (please),” Sarah said to the woman behind the counter.

“Someone’s in a good mood today.” I laughed as the café lady poured iced coffee into a tall glass for Sarah. “Jesus, where do you get all this energy? I’m a waste of space after last night.” I was referring to the welcome party at school that got pretty out of control.

“Cheerleading tryouts are this afternoon, so I have to start being . . . cheerful. Or something,” Sarah answered.

The woman set down the iced coffee in front of Sarah. “I keep forgetting that I’m friends with a cheerleader—” I began.

“If the words perky or spirit fingers come out of your mouth, I’m going to dump this pitcher of half-and-half over your head,” Sarah warned.

I let out a laugh. “It’s nice to be put in my place.”

“Your girlfriend should really learn a thing or two from me, sweetie.”

“Oh, trust me, Naomi knows,” I said, sipping on my iced Mochaccino.

“Hey, Emily. Hey, Sarah!” Zoe came toward us with her bedimpled smile.

“Hey, Spandex,” I greeted back. “What’s up?”

Zoe shifted her duffel bag to the other shoulder. “I just found out that Thomas is in the track team. I bumped into him at the gym and apparently he, Effy and sometimes you, Emily, goes out for a morning jog . . .”

I sighed. “Yea, I’ve tried to keep up with them but Los Ma training got pretty intense.”

“So, anyways, he wants to go for a run tomorrow,” she said. “You two joining?”

Sarah smiled then shook her head. “No, thanks. I’m okay with the calories I burn by just shouting rah-rahs.”

Zoe turned to me, expectantly. “Emily?”

When she saw a hint of hesitation on my face, she took my hands. “Please?” She hugged my hands to her chest. “Please,” she begged. “I promise it will be fun.”

I let out a breath before answering. “Okay.”

“Great.” Zoe clasped her hands together, flashing another dimpled grin. “Okay, I’ll see you two around. I have to meet Ayami-chan to get myself a bike.” With a final wink, she spun on her heel and took off.

“Don’t get the foldable ones. They’re 11.7% more susceptible to malfunction!” Sarah called after her. We watched Zoe stride out of the café.

Did I really just say yes? I thought with regret. Saying ‘yes’ to Zoe only meant trouble. Naomi will be outraged. And what did that begging meant? How come she wasn’t as persistent with Sarah? Fucking hell. Too much mental energy. Unnecessary mental energy. . .

I sighed and rested my elbows on the counter, then rubbed a hand over my forehead.

“Headache?” Sarah smirked.

“Yes. A banging one.” I didn’t know I was already applying a death grip to a paper napkin.

She leant one elbow on the counter and turned to look at me. “From pondering mind-boggling species?”

“If you’re talking about us, complex female human beings, then yes,” I replied, mindlessly swirling my straw in my drink.

“Hm.” Sarah drummed her fingertips on the countertop. “So who is it today? Betty or Veronica?”

I squinted at her. What is she on about?

Sarah wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. “You know, I’m not speaking in Korean and it’s not rocket science, Emily.”

My brows creased in question. “Sarah, what are you talking about?”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “Betty – blond girl. Veronica – dark-haired one. Which one do you want?”

Oh, now I get it. From the Archies. Why can’t people just say the damn name straight and stop the guessing games?

“You’re very shrewd, Miss Gyeon,” I said, a smirk tugging a corner of my mouth. “But very, awfully mistaken, too.”

I dropped the torn napkin on the counter and hopped off my stool. “It’s always been Betty,” I said. “It’s only Betty.”


In the morning I slid out of the bed quietly and began to tiptoe around the room. “Where do you think you’re going?” Naomi asked, lifting her head from her pillow.

“I’m going jogging,” I said coolly, pulling on a jacket.

“With?”

“With Effy, Thomas and some other people.”

Naomi arched a brow. “And especially a certain Olympic swimmer some other people?”

“Yes. And Zoe,” I said calmly, putting on a pair of socks. “JJ will be there too, I think.”

Naomi propped herself up on her elbows. “See?” she fumed. “You wouldn’t even tell me that extra detail if I didn’t ask for it.”

“Really, Naomi,” I said wearily. “Are we really going to do this at 6 in the morning?”

Still angered, Naomi settled back down on her pillow and pulled the covers up forcefully.

Letting out a long breath, I sat on the edge of the bed next to her. She stared up at me.

“I love you,” I said softly, brushing her hair with a loving hand. She looked glowingly beautiful.

She only stared hard at me for a moment, then rolled over to her side  her back facing me.

I wriggled out of my jacket and slipped under the covers again to snuggle against the curve of her spine. “Naomi . . .” I lifted a hand to toy with her earlobe, then skimmed my finger down the side of her throat.

She didn’t react.

With a tender hand, I swept the hair covering her neck and placed a soft kiss there.

I felt her shudder, but the blonde remained impassive. “I love you,” I repeated, sliding my hand downward to gently stroke her bare thigh with my fingertips.

I rubbed my lips against her back. “I’m just gonna cuddle with you for a bit, okay?”

The sky was starting to get lighter, the grey turning to blue, wispy stripes of pink and orange streaking one particular patch of dawn. It was beautiful, and Naomi was in my arms.

Moments later, Naomi rolled over to face me. She ran her fingers through my hair, then traced a finger down my bare arm.

We were staring at each other with such intensity; I could not hold her gaze for too long. Gently resting one leg over hers, I lifted my head and placed a sweet kiss on her rosy lips. “I love you, Naomi Campbell.”

Slowly, beautifully, her smile bloomed. She framed my face in her hands. “I love you, too,” she breathed before leaning in. We let our slow, quiet kissing soothe us both.

“I’ve got to go, babe,” I said after a while of being held captive, untangling myself from Naomi. But she stayed my shoulder. She had that devilish glint in her eyes.

“Not too fast,” Naomi said, climbing on top of me, propping herself up on one elbow. Her hand slid from my shoulder to my face, cupping it as she lowered her mouth to mine again. Her body sliding smoothly atop me, Naomi kissed my neck, my cheek, my lips until I fell back into romantic euphoria.

“I do have to go,” I murmured, moments later. “They are already waiting in the lobby.”

“Not yet,” Naomi pleaded against my lips. “Five more minutes . . .” Slowly, teasingly, her hands slipped underneath my top, exploring my bare skin upward, then downward . . .


I could feel my leg muscles as I worked to keep up with Zoe. “Can we stop for a bit at that vending machine? I’m dying here.” I groaned.

“Sure,” Zoe said, slowing down.

I looked back at Effy and Thomas, and pointed at the vending machine ahead. “I need a drink.”

After getting a bottle of water, I bent down to sit on a log. “Oh, Jesus, I feel like my ankle’s going to give up—Ow!”

Someone slapped my butt from behind as I was bent over. “Emily, you’re such a baby!”

I quickly whirled around and found out it was Zoe. She had a playful smirk on her face. I scowled at her. Chuckling, she walked over to the machine to grab a drink. I took that chance to strike back. I ran toward her and gave her butt a crisp slap.

She squealed then ran after me. I was laughing so hard. Thomas stood by the machine, drinking his soda and watching us in amusement. Effy, on the other hand, was nowhere near amused.

I was running around the park as fast as I can when Zoe caught me by the hem of my jacket. When she pulled me toward her, I quickly uncapped my bottle and splashed her with the cold water. Then I scurried toward Thomas and hid behind him, laughing hysterically.

Zoe put her hands on her hips, tilted her head to the side then raised a brow. “Emily Fitch, you made me so wet.” She shot me a glare in feigned aggravation.

“Oh, I made you so wet?” I teased, still chuckling.

Zoe then dashed toward me and I only stood rooted to the spot with my arms clasped around Thomas – anticipating what she was about to do to me. When she came closer, I instinctively scampered to escape.

Laughing and running mindlessly, I tripped over something and fell on a puddle-covered floor of the playground. “Oh, shit,” I muttered, eyeing my soaked jacket and hair.

Zoe appeared above me, a smirk forming on her lips. “You really are such a baby.” Then she grabbed my hands and pulled me up from the ground. She brushed some dirt off my jacket and wiped my face with her towel.

Then she stared into my eyes, smirking triumphantly. “Karma’s a bitch.” She patted my flushed cheek.

Squeezing the water out of my jacket, I can only grin sheepishly up at her in response.

Zoe then tugged on her black spandex shorts in all the spots that need tugging. “C’mon, people. Let’s go!” she called to the others. “Thirty more minutes.” She pivoted on her heel and carried on jogging with Thomas.

Liquid still dripping off the ends of my hair, I groaned as I jogged beside Effy. When I saw her expression, I felt a little nervous. Elizabeth Stonem shall be playing the role of my conscience, I silently predicted.

“What’s going on there?” Effy’s tone was stern.

“What’s going on where?” I feigned ignorance.

“You and Miss Phelps.”

“I fell; she helped me,” I said simply with a shrug. “What else is there, Ef?”

“She’s bad news, Emily.”

“Oh, you’re so good at playing cupid and dealing with my relationships, aren’t you Effy?” I quipped. “What about yours?”

Effy only trained her eyes straight ahead.

“What’s up with you and Freddie, anyway?” I asked, between heavy breaths.

“Nothing.” Effy picked up her pace.

I broke into a sprint to keep up with Effy. “Effy, I just want to know,” I prodded. “I’m just concerned with—”

“Just drop it, Emily.”


I rapped absently on the tabletop, waiting for Effy – straight from the shower and with only a towel wrapped around her body – to finish dressing up in her room. The question of what was going on between her and Freddie kept bothering me. Effy had been very evasive whenever I tried to open up the ‘real deal with Freddie’ issue. Obviously, Freddie had enough. Freddie was unhappy. Freddie wanted more from her. And I could not blame the poor guy. He had been trying so hard.

I cleared my throat and tried my best to sound casual.

“So. You and Freddie,” I began, leaning forward in the swivel chair. “How’s it going for you two?”

Effy reached back to pull her mass of dark brown curls into a ponytail. “Nothing. As usual.”

“Effy—”

She stood up from her bed, padded over to her closet and opened it. “There is nothing to say because there is nothing going on,” she said, dropping a white top over her head.

I pushed myself off the chair and walked over to her. “Are you still together?”

Effy scoffed, “We were never together.”

“Ef,” I begged. “Just spare me this one.”

She pulled her black leather leggings on. “No. Not anymore. End of story.”

“I figured.”

Effy looked at me then, a questioning glint in her azure eyes.

“I saw this note written by Freds,” I said, taking out the post-it from my pocket. “I’m assuming it’s from him. The handwriting, the French words, and the ‘being with Effy’ claim gave it away.” I handed it to her.

For a short while, Effy only gazed at it silently. After reading, she coolly folded the note then gave it back to me. Then she walked over to her mirror and fixed her hair.

“What can you say?” I asked, putting the note back into my pocket.

The brunette only ignored my question, and mutely put some eyeliner around her eyes.

“What’s your answer, Effy?” I demanded.

When she didn’t answer, I tried another route. “Were there flecks of gold? Was there a bolt of lightning?”

Silence.

I felt a flicker of irritation. “Effy, he compared you to a fucking wall—!”

Je ne sais pas, Emily,” Effy said flatly. “I don’t know.”

Letting out a long sigh, I walked back toward the desk and leant against it. “You don’t know?” I asked wearily, eyeing her reflection in the mirror.

“I don’t know,” Effy answered, putting on lipstick. “And I don’t give a shit.” Unflappably, Effy smacked her lips together.

Upset and a little exhausted, my eyes slid down to her desk and found a pad of pink post-its lying almost hidden under her telephone.


Staring at the note, I shook my head sadly. “I think I know.”

Poor Effy.

It never changed.


After an hour, being stabbed with red lights felt a little like being in hell. I glanced at the clock on my phone, then gazed around the club with smoke-stung eyes. I was beginning to get irritated. Naomi was supposed to be here thirty minutes ago. I had left Effy, Panda, Freddie, and Cook with the new kids upstairs on the dance floor. I had enjoyed hanging out with them, but now my feet ached from dancing in pumps, and my throat hurt from yelling myself hoarse . . . if this was even possible.

I scanned the crowd again, shielding my eyes with my hand to block the blinding strobe lights. Amidst the sprawling mass of flailing limbs, I recognised Sarah dancing in the middle of a group of people, dancing like she was alone. She reminded me so much of Halo. They have the same energy, same cheek, same cuteness, same bluntness, and same wit. The only difference was that Sarah is too brainy and too rational to bear thirty seconds of casual conversation with Panda.

After a moment of musing, I swiveled on my stool and let my fingers absently toy with the lime wedge of my Mojito.

“Hey,” greeted a female voice tinged with sassiness.

I whirled around and found myself face-to-face with Zoe.

Zoe. Wearing a white, strapless, ruched mini-dress. Her long dark chestnut brown hair and light golden-brown skin glinting in the lights. It was somewhat refreshing to see her not wearing her usual tank top-spandex shorts pairing.

The expression on her face was part expectant, part studied nonchalant.

“Hey,” I said, flashing her a smile. “You here for another drink? Your beer looks untouched.” I gestured at the bottle in her hand.

She grimaced slightly as she slid onto the stool next to me. “I just needed some fresh air. Not that this is exactly the place for it.” When she noticed me restlessly checking my phone, she asked, “Waiting for someone?”

“Yea. Naomi.”

“Oh,” Zoe said hollowly. “The girlfriend.” Turning her head to watch Sarah dancing, she quickly downed half of her beer.

I did not know what Zoe’s ‘Oh, the girlfriend’ meant but I opted to give her my poker face and just let my head groove with the music. “You feelin’ the Blackout crowd?” I asked Zoe over the pulsing bass line of David Guetta’s music.

“Not really,” Zoe answered. “I left Evan with a very tranny-looking Japanese girl upstairs. She was ten inches taller than him, I swear. And there was a couple of annoying guys who tried to rub their dicks on my ass. And the new kids are just all over the place, aiming to outshine one another. It was all just too much. I guess I’m just not really in the mood for hanging out in a big group tonight.” She shrugged. “You know?”

“Yea, I know.” I took a sip of my drink. “Sometimes the vibe upstairs just gets a bit . . . oppressive.”

“Exactly,” she agreed. “You’re not looking at a social butterfly.”

“I’m more into keeping a low profile myself,” I said. “But for the record, I’ve had wild tequila shots here.”

Zoe’s jaw dropped. “Get out!” she exclaimed, giving my shoulder a playful shove. “With that girl?” She pointed at the Ladies’ Night poster featuring a scantily-clad Sierra on the wall behind the bar.

I smirked. “Sierra Tequila, yea.”

She shook her head, a wicked grin on her face. “That’s very impressive, you racy little redhead.” Then she turned to flag down the bartender. “Hey—”

“Alejandro,” I filled in. “His name is Alejandro.”

“Hi, Alejandro,” she said to the burly bartender. “Can I have a margarita?”

“Do you want some syrup with that, beautiful?” he asked.

“No. But could you make me a Jell-O one?”

“I’m afraid I can’t give you that, señorita.”

Zoe leant one elbow on the counter and gave him a sweet, dimpled smile. “Could you check back there?” she cocked her head to the door leading to a small kitchen. “Maybe you have some Jell-O.”

Lo siento, preciosa, pero no es posible.” Alejandro frowned. “I know every corner of this room. We don’t have that.”

Zoe leant in closer to him, her voice silkier. “Well, would you mind going to the convenience store outside and get me a Jell-O? Then, you can give me what I want.” Damn. This girl knows how to flirt.

Alejandro’s eyes lit up. “You know I would really love to do that but someone should—”

“Just give her a plain margarita, Alejandro,” I interrupted. “Jeez, Zoe. Can’t you just take what’s on their menu?”

Esta bien.” The bartender nodded and disappeared to do his thing.

Zoe turned to me. “You always want what you can’t have, Emily,” she said. “It’s just how it is. Unattainable things are a challenge. I usually go for those.”

“And?”

“And, at all times, I eventually find out they’re actually attainable. I always get things my way, you know.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Always, huh.”

She smiled smugly. “Always. Everything.”

“Never failed?”

“Never.”

Alejandro came back with the drink. “Here you are, beautiful,” he drawled. “On the house.”

She flashed him her dimpled smile. Gracias, Alejandro.”

“And I’ll get you that Jell-O in a little while, mi princesa. They’re working on it now. Tu deseo es mi orden.” He winked. Then Alejandro left but not before taking Zoe’s hand and planting a kiss on it.

Un-fucking-believable.

Zoe smirked, gazing at her drink for a while, then suddenly her eyes snapped up to mine. “So,” she began. “Where’s the girlfriend?”

“Naomi?” I felt my throat constrict. “She’ll be here in a – a while. In a little while.” Damn, she makes me nervous. I was kind of bothered that Zoe was flirting with me a tiny bit but maybe I was just imagining. Hopefully I was just imagining.

Her lips stretched into a seductive smile. “She shouldn’t really leave you alone in an oppressive club like this.”

I managed a smile, despite the growing lump in my throat. “I promised her I won’t be slurping tequila from anything that has hair follicles on it. So there’s nothing to worry about.”

Zoe let out a chuckle before lifting her glass. “Anyway, here’s to avoiding human contact. Well . . .” She clinked it with mine. “Maybe not all human contact.”

Loud catcalls made our heads snap to the dance floor diva, Sarah Gyeon, and a couple of Norwegian boys dancing around her. Despite the absence of a dance floor, Sarah seemed to be perking up the place with her unique dance moves. The song was kinda poppy so that made her quirky steps match the music. She was definitely on the spotlight for her cuteness, and the people around the bar were on a high.

“How come you’re not hanging out with them?” I asked, cocking my head to Sarah and some new kids. “Most people come to this place to see and be seen. Make an impression or whatever.”

“I guess I just think the whole big ‘scene’ is overrated,” Zoe said, taking a sip of her margarita. “I used to do some acting when I was a kid, so I know how messed up people get when they just live for attention.”

I raised my eyebrows. “An actress, huh?”

“Yea, I was in a couple of movies, TV specials, that sort of stuff back in NZ,” Zoe shared. “Peaked at thirteen, retired at fourteen.”

“Wait a sec,” I said, my eyes sparkling. “Oh, my God. That’s why you look familiar to me. Weren’t you in that movie about the kids who saved Frigo the Flying Penguin?”

“Get out. You do not remember that,” she said, embarrassed and pleased at once.

I nodded, grinning. “Are you kidding? My brother is fourteen years old, and he still makes me watch it every summer break.”

“I’m so sorry!” Zoe laughed. “I’ve been a party to your annual torture. I’ll completely understand if you want to walk away now.”

“I won’t be doing that,” I said solemnly. “I need to get your autograph first.” I grinned, taking out a pen from my purse. “My brother has the biggest crush on you, I swear! You were that kid Megan, right?”

“Yep. Megan, the tomboy with the shell necklace.” Still chuckling, she took the pen and signed on a napkin.

“My brother, James, would be so fucking ecstatic once he hears this,” I said, watching her as she scrawled down a little message. “So you decided to take swimming seriously because of that penguin movie?”

She handed me the napkin. “I was already a decent swimmer. That’s why the producers gave me the part. Been swimming even before I’ve learned how to talk,” she shared. “Actually I was the only kid in the film who really did my own stunts.”

“How come there was no sequel?” I asked, stifling a laugh.

She gave me a look. “Frigo was already saved, Emily.”

I pouted and teased, “Too bad. I’ve been waiting for that moment when Frigo finds out his mum is a fucking albatross that’s why he can fly . . .”

Zoe finished the last sip of her drink then took my hand. “Shut up and just dance with me.” She led me back up the stairs to the dance floor. My heart was thudding wildly in my chest.

Ne-Yo’s sexy voice was blasting from the speakers around the dance floor—which was already crowded with sweaty, grinding people.

Zoe slipped her arms around my waist, pressing me close to her. I stiffened. The people around us kept pushing us further and further pressed to each other.

She leant forward slightly. Her breath tender on my face. “You’re right. The crowd here’s a bit oppressive.” I tilted my head back to gaze into Zoe’s eyes. She wasn’t smiling now. She’s fixed me with an intense, searching look that made me catch my breath. Oh, no. This doesn’t look good.

Slowly, she lowered her face toward mine. The room swirled around us in a blur. Oh, no.

Her lips were just inches away from mine now. Closer . . . and closer . . . I froze. She was going to kiss me. Closer . . . and closer—

“Where could Naomi be?” I said, awkwardly craning my neck around the room to look for a certain blonde to escape the tension-filled moment. But when I turned to face Zoe again, her gaze remained intent. It’s just the alcohol . . . and the proximity, I decided.

Abruptly I lowered my head, but Zoe instantly lifted my chin back up with her finger. Her other hand slid down to the small of my back, urging me closer.

What the fuck is she thinking? I thought. Is she really going to kiss me? Closer . . . and closer . . . My heart thudded against hers. Then I smelled her sour breath. Involuntarily I pulled back, and took a step back. She looked at me; a wisp of confusion crossed her face. I spun on my heel then retreated toward the stairs.

As I pushed my way heatedly through the crowd, I heard Zoe call after me. “Emily, wait!”

I hurried down the stairs until my arm was caught by someone.

“Em?” Naomi said, her tone confused and worried. “Are you all right?”

“There you are,” I said breathlessly. I grabbed her wrist. “Let’s go.”

“Emily!” Zoe called, rushing toward me. When I shot her a glare, she said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“Let’s get out of here, babe,” I said, tugging my girlfriend. “I’m not feeling well all of a sudden.”

Naomi stood firm on the ground. “But I just got here,” she said. “I should get my free drink, at least.”

“Okay. We’ll get your drink then we’re off,” I said impatiently. “Okay?”

“No, wait. Is everything all right here?” Naomi shot the two of us a suspicious look.

“Yes, I just need to talk to—” Zoe tried to reach for me but I quickly spun round my heel and started toward the bar.

“Emily—” Zoe blocked my path then took my shoulders. “Please just—”

Naomi quickly stood between us, fixing Zoe a scathing look. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Please, Naomi, just let me settle this with her alone,” Zoe said, clenching her jaw.

“Emily’s my girlfriend. Her business is my fucking business.” Naomi turned to me, her colour rising. “Should I be slapping this girl right now?”

“No,” I quickly said, tugging her elbow. “Just – let’s just go.”

“Emily—” Zoe began.

Shrill Japanese girl-shrieks caught our attention, echoing through the club.

Next thing I knew Cook was on the floor with Ben, the brooding Polish guy, on top of him – one of his hands clutched Cook’s collar, and the other one was curled into a fist, about to strike him in the face. Clearly, the two boys had already exchanged a few blows.

“Easy, mate! I was just joking around.” Cook snickered, wiping the blood on his nose. “Relax the cacks, amigo!”

Ben forcefully released his collar then stood up, still fuming. He then made his way to the exit with Stefan, Natalia, and a Japanese girl.

Cook limped toward us, with a swollen cheek and blood all over his face. “Fock’s sakes,” he said, spitting blood. “That shawkhite bastard needs to revisit his Anger Management class.”

“Cook, your mouth is your fucking Achilles’ Heel,” Effy said soberly. “Please, for Chrissakes, please shut it as often as possible, will you?”

Cook threw his hands around mine and Naomi’s shoulders. “Such an eventful night, innit ladies?”


“This way,” I told Naomi, as I led her across a rarely used trail along Kamo River.

“Listen, Em,” Naomi began. “I know you think this is kind of exciting but I’m already feeling a tiny bit uncomfortable now. Can we go somewhere not so grassy? This is—”

“We’re almost there,” I said. “Whatever happened to patience, Naomi?” I cut through some thorny bushes and held the branches back so she could get by, then led her to an even more remote dirt path.

“Uh, Earth to Emily. Ground control to Miss Fitch,” Naomi called. “I’m wearing a fucking blindfold. Can’t you see—?”

“We’re here,” I said, gently taking off the bandanna covering her eyes.

Naomi’s face was that of surprise, delight, and speechlessness. You can see she was rather overwhelmed by merely gazing at our surroundings.

The banks of Kamo River were already lined up with sakura or cherry blossom trees in full bloom. The mid-April night was cool, calm and peaceful. It matched the soothing sounds of the flowing river in front of us and the distant traditional Japanese music.

I took Naomi’s hand and whirled her around. Her jaw dropped further.

Under our willow tree was a blanket sprinkled with sakura flowers. On which was a pristine white linen tablecloth. On which was a picnic basket, a cooler, two crystal wineglasses, and place settings for two.

And in the centre of it all was a small vase holding white calla lilies.

“Oh, Ems,” Naomi gasped. “You did this?”

“No. I hired our cafeteria caterer, Mister Uemichi.” I snorted. “He’s in the cooler. Cooling, I think.”

Naomi laughed. And we took our seats on the blanket, underneath the illuminated blossoming boughs of cherry blossom trees. It was a magical night to celebrate a very special day. 

“Happy birthday, Naomi,” I said, dropping a tender kiss on her cheek. She smiled so beautifully.

I opened the cooler and took out a sweating bottle of champagne, popped it open, and poured some into both glasses. Then I clinked my glass against hers. “So, here’s to – to what?”

“To 22 years of awesomeness,” Naomi said. “Cheers.”

I shone her the most loving smile I could give. “Yea. Cheers.” We both took long drinks. I took food out of the picnic basket and cooler—broccoli-tofu stir-fry, Fitch Salad, honey glazed baby carrots, strawberries, grapes, tiramisu, Garibaldi biscuits, and a tiny super moist chocolate cake.

Naomi just shook her head. “Wow. My mind?” she began, “Genuinely blown away.”

I smiled and dug deeper into the picnic basket, bringing out more food. Naomi scooped some salad from the bowl.

“And wow. Emily goes vegan for a night,” Naomi teased, eyeing me in amusement as I spooned some tofu onto my plate.

“Yep,” I said, making a face. “I’m doing this not because I want to but because it’s your birthday and I love you and I know slaughtering animals for food blah-blah-blah is against your philosophy.”

We both leant forward and shared a very sweet kiss. “It’s greatly appreciated,” Naomi said, smiling sweetly. “Thank you.”

For a while we ate in comfortable silence—smiling at each other and looking around us, enjoying the view, loving the feel of the spring breeze.

“So,” Naomi began, lowering her gaze to the salad she’s forking. “Should I worry about what happened at the club?”

“Nope,” I said, surprised I had sounded so casual. “It was just a misunderstanding. But it’s okay now,” I lied and shone her a smile.

“Okay. If you say so,” she quietly said, and went on eating her salad in silence.

I lifted her chin with my hand and dropped another kiss on her lips. “Don’t worry about it, ’kay?”

“Okay,” she said, now smiling. She picked up a piece of Garibaldi and took a tiny bite. “Wow. I’m 22,” she said.

“And I’m still underage,” I added, pouting.

Naomi chuckled. “Oh, c’mon. Just two months, babe,” she said. “Hold your knickers on.”

“I know,” I said, smirking. “I can’t wait to finally go back to that karaoke place and tell the people there 'You can't kick me out now, huh' and I'd stay one whole day trashing the karaoke room and downing all their alcoholic drinks. Should be fun, yea?” Naomi just laughed in response.

A strong wind wafted around us, sending sakura blossoms to shower over us. I could swear I heard strings and harps playing in the background. It was like a scene from a romantic movie. I looked up and savoured the feeling of the soft petals gliding down my face. When I dropped my gaze and met Naomi’s blue eyes, we shared a private smile with our eyes only.

“I love you,” I said softly, tracing her jaw with a loving finger.

“I love you too, Ranga,” she whispered, leaning in and pressing her mouth to mine. It was a perfect kiss—passionate yet thorough at the same time.

When she released me, I took a grape from the bunch and held it up for Naomi to nibble. “Here, babe.”

Naomi giggled. “You make me feel so gay,” she said, borrowing my words. She took the grape between her teeth, her eyes never leaving my face.

“I know.” I grinned, cradling her head in my hands and drawing her to me.

“Let’s be gay together,” we said in chorus, and shared another sweet, lingering kiss as the lovely cherry blossoms continued to rain on us.


He was dressed like a walking advertisement for some rebel motorcycle gang, and he looked like the personification of everything that spelt T-R-O-U-B-L-E. Plain, unmarked black leather jacket and boots, and dark jeans. I thought I caught a hint of silver at his left earlobe. His face was unshaven, but not bearded. He was sitting on the couch, reading some local Polish car magazine.

Benedykt Kaczmarek had been elusive and I wondered why. He had not been very talkative. The first action I’ve seen him in was him almost punching Cook in the face. Clearly not a nice impression. He had not been very sociable. When I invited him to the Sunday movie night yesterday, he only gave me a blank face, clicked his tongue – perhaps, in annoyance - then strode off wordlessly to his room.

“Why d’you come here, Ben?” I spoke suddenly, setting my pen down on the table next to my Grammar workbook.

Ben lifted his head from the magazine and looked over his shoulder at me. “Huh?”

“Why are you here?” I asked.

His brows creased. “What kind of a fucked up, stupid question is that?”

“Clearly, you’re not here to improve your Japanese – your communication skills, in general,” I pointed out, “you’re not here to have fun, and you’re not here to make friends either. So, why are you here in Kyoto?”

Ben snorted aloud. “And why do you care, lady?”

“Why?” I demanded, not letting him intimidate me.

“Emily—” he began, but I quickly interrupted.

“Wow,” I said, smirking. “Thanks for calling me by my real name for the first time.”

He ignored me, and tried again, “Emily, did you ever wish you could just fly away from everything? Disappear to some faraway place where no one knows you and you can just invent yourself from scratch?”

I sighed, because I couldn’t agree with him more. That was also my hidden agenda.

“I found that faraway place here in Japan,” he shared soberly. “Thought it would be the perfect spot for some change.”

“What, you used to be this oddball who had some social interaction problems and may need support in the area of personal hygiene in the past, and back at your uni, you have been the butt of derogatory nicknames?” I quipped.

“Nope. Worse,” he deadpanned. “I had some serious hostility issues, had a problem with stealing, sold drugs for fun when I was twelve, and burned my stepfather’s house.”

My throat became dry. “You’re joking.”

“2 out of 4,” Ben blurted, smirking. “I’ll leave the ‘which one is which’ guessing to you.”

“Whatever change it is you are aiming for, Ben,” I told him, obviously you’re nowhere near that.” 

“Shut up, lady,” he countered. “I’m having a conversation with you now. That’s a progress.”

I smiled sarcastically. “Why, I feel very honoured . . . if you would really call this a conversation.”

“I used to talk in monosyllables,” he said flatly.

“Actually, I thought Clicks was your first language,” I quipped.

Now was his turn to smile sarcastically. “Very funny, Fitch.”

I beamed. “Wow. You know my surname too—”

“Yoohoo! I brought a giant jigsaw puzzle, everyone!” a shrill, giggly voice exclaimed. Panda appeared from the lounge doors on excited feet. Naomi was trailing behind her.

“Why?” Ben asked the Swedish girl wryly.

“For all of us,” Panda answered, giggling.

“Why?” Ben asked again.

“For all of us to play with.” Panda placed the puzzle box on a table.

Ben raised his brows. “Why?”

“For all of us to play with when we’re mega bored!” Panda snapped, now a little offended.

Ben snorted. “Rubbish.”

“Oh, spare us some civility, Bene,” Naomi broke in, sitting on a chair next to me. “You just love torturing people, don’t you?”

“Ben,” he corrected. “Nobody calls me Bene.”

“You’re one of the most obnoxious people I’ve ever met,” Naomi said. “And Cook’s face is still swollen, thanks to you.”

“Your dear friend was such a little prick,” Ben said dully. “He deserved it. Ask all the girls on the dance floor that night.”

“Forgive them, Ben, for they are misled,” I said dramatically. “They haven’t seen ‘The Born Again Ben’ yet.” I was mindlessly toying with the bracelet that I gave Naomi.

“Yes, they haven’t been enlightened,” Ben added. “It’s a shame.”

Naomi was looking at the two of us like we’ve grown antlers. “Are you two on crack?”

“Just taking some notes from your Aunt G,” I said, grinning. “Speaking of which, she and Gina made me look at your baby photos for like an hour on Skype. I should say, you have the rosiest butt cheeks I’ve ever—”

“When did this happen?” Naomi shrieked, grabbing my book from the table and swatting me with it. “I swear you spend more time with my mother than me.”

I grinned and snatched the book out of her hand. Naomi swiped for it, and I gave her a quick kiss on the lips.

“Hanging out with you two is like watching a scene from The Notebook,” Ben said dryly. “It’s sickening.”

“Shut up, Kaczmarek.” Naomi rolled her eyes. “Find yourself something else to hassle.”

“Oh, I will.” Ben stood up, walked over to Panda, and studied the puzzle pieces lying on the table critically. “Chrissakes. It’s all green. This is hopeless.”

Chuckling, I pulled Naomi into my arms and nuzzled against her neck. “He’s heartless.”

“Chin up, Benny,” Panda said giddily. “This will be super duper fun!”

Ben made a face. “Miss, you super duper need a brain surgery. This is self-induced migraine,” he grunted. “Why d’you have to get the Amazon forest?”

“Piss off, Ben. Be nice,” Naomi chided. “Panda will have nightmares of you already, I swear to God.”

I kept my face buried against Naomi’s neck. “And you should stop looking so sexy or I will have fantasies of you all night,” I murmured.

Naomi drew back to look at my face. “Perve.”

Grinning, I touched my lips to hers. It was a sweet kiss.

I pulled back and we shared a flirtatious smile. “So,” I began, stifling a smirk, “there is a bunch of octopus hotcakes waiting in the kitchen. You hungry?”

Naomi’s eyes widened. “No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did.”

Her jaw dropped. “You did not.”

“I did so.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“You got a takoyaki pan?” she gasped, her eyes wide.

Suppressing laughter, I nodded my head.

“What’s with takoyaki pans?” Ben broke in, curious.

“Shut up, Kaczmarek,” Naomi muttered, not taking her blue eyes off mine.

The blonde narrowed her eyes at me, a smirk forming on her lips. Then suddenly we both broke into chuckles until we were both red in the face. Giggling, I cupped my hand around her neck, drew her down and took her lips again. I deepened the kiss. A quiet moan of pleasure sounded in her throat as I changed the angle of the kiss.

“Ugh, girls.” Ben dramatically covered his eyes, grimacing. “My eyes, they burn!” He peeked through the space between his fingers.

Naomi and I fixed him a look. “Shut up, Kaczmarek.” And yet another sizzling kiss was shared.


“Perfect,” I moaned as I looked at my watch.

So far, this Wednesday morning was one for the record books. I slept through my alarm for the first time in . . . nine weeks – since Naomi moved in with me. There had been no hot water for my shower, I’d poured a cup of sour milk onto my Choco Pops, I got on my bike and found out it was flat-tired, and now the next train will not be arriving until after thirty-five minutes. My only possible transport was the girl I’ve been avoiding all week. I could always walk, I decided. The last thing I wanted was to get into an awkward situation—again.

I heard her step out of the electronic doors and swiftly I took my phone out to call Naomi.

“Hey, Ranga, where are you?” Naomi’s tone was hushed. She must still be in her class.

“Still here at the dorm. I overslept, my bike’s flat, and I missed the train so I think I will have to walk.” Seeing Zoe walk toward her bike, I strode out of the parking lot as confidently as possible.

“Do you want me to meet you halfway?” Naomi asked. “I could pick you up.”

“No, it’s okay,” I said, picking up my pace. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

“Okay. I’ll be waiting at the benches.”

I sneaked a look behind me and found Zoe drawing near. “All right, I’ll see you. Love you.”

“Love you right back. And please call me when you get bored.”

Putting my phone in my bag, I took a right toward a small bridge that was almost covered with cherry blossoms, praying that Zoe would just pass by and ignore me.

Zoe, on her bicycle, came pedaling next to me. “Hey.”

I screwed my eyes shut for a second. For Pete's sake. “Hey,” I greeted back flatly.

“Figured your bike’s effed up . . .” She surveyed me in silence for a moment. “Need a ride?”

“Thanks, but I can walk,” I said lamely, walking on.


“Either you take my offer or you get bloody cramps. Don’t be stupid.”

I stopped on my tracks. “All right, Zoe,” I said, giving in. “Thanks. In advance.”

Zoe stopped in front of me with a smirk, then patted the carrier behind her. “Hop in. But be careful of the—”

Shkriiiip. My skirt got a little ripped from the protruding metal on the carrier. “There you go,” Zoe said, shaking her head sorrowfully.

“For Pete’s sake,” I grunted. Definitely record-book material. “This has been the worst morning—”

I turned toward Zoe the exact moment she twisted her head to glance behind. My nose was practically touching the side of her neck. I pushed myself back, but not before smelling the strong but distinctly female scent of her lotion.

She briefly rested her hands on mine to tug and put them around her waist. “Hold on to me.”

Awkwardly, I pulled my hands away. “No, I can just—”

“Don’t be silly,” she prodded. “Hold on to me.” She took my arms and replaced them around her waist.

I forced my eyes to stare straight ahead. If I didn’t move or speak, there was a slim possibility I could avoid making an idiot of myself before we got to school.

“Worst morning?” Zoe asked as she pedaled faster down the street.

“Never mind,” I said.

I noticed how Zoe’s muscles flexed as she gripped on the handlebars whenever she makes a turn. When I saw her smirking to herself, I turned my head abruptly and let my eyes wander to the array of cherry and plum blossoms, yellow bells, and camellia blooms along the road.

“So,” Zoe strived for small talk. “Your girlfriend’s M.I.A.?”

“Naomi has first period class. East Asian History.”

“I see,” she said. After a few moments of awkward silence, she spoke again. “And, Emily,” she began hesitantly, “about what happened last Friday . . . I mean—“

“That was inappropriate, Zoe,” I cut her off with a serious tone.

“I know. I’m sorry. It just happened,” she said ruefully. “It was unintentional, believe me.”

“You know I have a girlfriend. What if Naomi saw us?”

Zoe shot me a brief apologetic look. “I know and I’m sorry, okay? Human frailties.”

“Human frailties, right,” I scoffed. “Had that been someone else you were dancing with, will you have done the same?”

She hesitated for a second. “Yes,” she said. “Obviously, I was drunk that night, Emily.”

I snorted and shook my head. “Obviously.”

Zoe smirked. “All I remember was seeing pink elephants and blue mice. I was that drunk.”

“Whatever clears your conscience, hun,” I replied flatly.

Zoe let out a short chuckle. “So. We’re classmates . . .”

“’Fraid so,” I said miserably. “And I’m not going to ask how you did it but you did it. So good job. And good luck.”

She chuckled. “Should be lovely. Your hair’s quite a sight,” she said, playfully tugging a lock with one hand. “And whatever shampoo you are using right now, stick to the brand. It’s revoltingly distracting. In a good way.”

Zoe eased the bicycle into the parking lot and pulled into a space. She put her feet on the ground and turned to me.

“Thanks for the lift. For the back-ride, I mean,” I said automatically.

“You already thanked me,” Zoe said, crouching to lock the chain of her bicycle.

“Oh. Right. Well. I guess I’ll see you in class,” I mumbled, not looking in Zoe’s direction.

Zoe took her duffel bag from the bike basket. “Won’t you walk with me to class? We’re headed for the same room anyway.”

“Right.” I hugged my books to my chest and we started toward the Great Takeda Hall.

It was a really hot morning. I wiped some sweat off my brow with the back of my arm.

“Here.” Zoe extracted a towel from her bag. “Let me . . .” She patted the towel around my forehead. “You’re really a baby, you know,” she said, smirking.

“You’re the only one who babies me.”

“Did you bring your packed lunch, Little Emily?” she cooed, then playfully slapped my butt.

I gave her shoulder a playful shove. “Piss off.”

The final bell of the first period rang. All around us crowds of students erupted from buildings. Now we could distinctly hear Sarah’s and Panda’s voices at the benches.

“Hey, Em.” Naomi had that tentative smile as she fell into step beside me. She shot Zoe a ‘What the fuck are you doing walking with my girlfriend?’ inquiring look. Zoe smirked right at her and cast an ‘I don’t give a  damn' unflustered response.

“Hi,” I said to Naomi, managing a sweet smile. I gave her a quick peck on the cheek. Feeling the tension rising between the girls, I quickened my pace. As I passed through the automatic glass doors into the building, I heard Zoe say something to Naomi behind my back.

“You should really take care of your girl,” she said. “If you won’t, I will.”

Naomi stopped short. “Excuse me?”

My head whipped around instantly at the brusqueness of Naomi's tone, and saw the two girls staring pointedly at each other. Uh-oh.

“I’m just sayin',” Zoe said, putting her palms up. Walking past me, she said, “See you in class, Little Emily.” Then she strode off ahead of us.

“Naomi—” I called and reached for her hand but the blonde had started walking already.

“C’mon, let’s go,” called Naomi tonelessly, heading up the hall toward the elevators. “We’re gonna be late for class.”


“What. The. Fuck.” Naomi stared at the newspaper in her hands. “Is it just my eyes or am I really looking at alien symbols here?”

As expected, all of us from Class 2 had advanced to Class 1B.

Class 1B.

That meant introductory course to Japanese newspaper reading, advanced Japanese grammar, research class, essay writing, and more bloody classes that will totally sabotage one’s social life.  

“What the fuck,” Naomi repeated, scowling.

I can only chuckle at the cute expression on Naomi's face. I was just about to react to her when my phone buzzed in the pocket of my jacket. I sneaked a look.

Sender: Zoe

Kill. Me. Now.


I glanced over at Zoe who was seated to my left three chairs away from me. She looked at me and made a funny ‘I’ll gag myself’ motion. Chuckling silently, I mouthed an “I know” to her. Then I grinned. She grinned back.

“From now on, every meeting, each one of you shall be reporting on an article,” David Blood, our gangly, incredibly annoying and sadistic professor, went on. “You have to present first the context of the issue, then you share your opinion next, and finally there shall be a 5-minute open discussion where your classmates shall be asking you regarding the topic . . .”

A collective groan boomed around the room.

“This class is a joke,” Stefan grumbled from the back row.

Zoe and I looked at each other again. This time, both of us were making faces.

A clearing of throat from Effy, who was seated directly to my left, caught my attention. I looked at her but she was only staring at the blackboard ahead.

I trained my eyes back on the newspaper in my hands. A wave of embarrassment and guilt washed over me. Why do I feel like Effy’s chiding me? It’s not like I’m doing something wrong, yea?

“. . . I’ll give you fifteen minutes to study an interesting article,” Mr. Blood droned on, despite the groans of protest from the class. “Upon my return, each one will present their chosen article. Are we clear? Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go back to my office to get the grade sheet.”

Louder groans roared inside the room. The nasty professor strode out of the room. Thankfully.

I turned to Naomi. “Naomi, hey,” I whispered. She just took out her phone and tapped on the keys.

“Naomi,” I called again.

But she kept a stony face and only ignored me. Fuck’s sake.

I turned my attention back to the newspaper on my desk and feigned absorption.

“Enough,” shouted a voice from across the room. “Enough of this load of bloody ballsch. Let’s all walk out and just get focking mentalled!” Cook got up and tore his newspaper into pieces. “What d’ye say, pussies?”

The class cheered and hooted.

“Amen,” Naomi muttered. “I’m outta here.” Suddenly the blonde stood up from her chair and rushed for the door.

“Naomi!” I called. “Wait!” Swiftly I stuffed my notebook into my bag, slung it over my shoulder and chased the blonde.

“Naomi!” I called again.

But Naomi only quickened her pace. I rushed up behind her and grabbed her upper arm before she could walk into the elevator. The blonde wrested her arm from my grip and fixed me a look.

“Ah, love is all around!” Cook came passing right by us, chuckling. “Just kiss and make up already, will ye? Go on, show me some girl-on-girl action!”

“Fuck off, Cook,” Naomi shot back.

“Yea, yea, yea.” Cook waved his hand dismissively. “Ugh. Girls and fockin' drama.” Still chuckling like an idiot, he disappeared down the stairs.

Naomi then stabbed the Down button of the elevator again. I glanced around furtively. More students came storming out of our classroom.

I took Naomi by the elbow and quickly tugged her toward the other wing of the building.

“Emily—” Naomi complained as I dragged her into a deserted room.

Shutting the door, I backed her against it and kissed her hard. She wasn’t kissing back.

I kissed her again, she pulled back. “Em—”

I took her hands, pulling her to me, and kissed her again – her neck, her cheek, her lips. But Naomi stood her ground. “Naomi?” I breathed, completely puzzled. “What’s wrong?”

She only stared down at me blankly.

I moved my hands down her back to her hips, and took her mouth again. I deepened the kiss, tasting, probing, urging.

She pushed against my chest and jerked her head backward. “Emily, stop,” she said.

I released her immediately and took a step backward to give her the space she needed.

“What’s wrong, Naomi?” I asked again.

She was avoiding my eyes. “I’m just not in the mood right now.”

Silence pooled between us. The only sound was our breathing. What the fuck is going on? I questioned silently. I felt tears creeping from the back of my eyes. But I blinked them back.

Naomi’s phone suddenly buzzed and the screen started blinking.

“I – uh – I have to get this,” she said shakily. She opened the door and whirled outside, slamming it shut behind her.

I leant against the door and heard her answer her phone. “Hey, Evan,” she said. “Yea, I just got out of . . .” Then her voice and quick footsteps faded down the hallway.

Slowly, I sank to the floor. The tears that had threatened for some heartbeats were finally permitted to fall. “Fuck.”


Ikebana is more than simply putting flowers in a container. It is a disciplined art form in which the arrangement is a living thing where nature and humanity are brought together. It is steeped in the philosophy of developing a closeness with nature—” Kieran’s speech was cut off by Naomi’s phone ringing.

Kieran regarded Naomi. “Miss Campbell, switch your phone to silent mode, please.”

“Shit,” Naomi muttered. “Sorry, Kieran!” she replied, throwing him an apologetic smile.

“Who was that?” I asked, keeping the accusation out of my voice. I pretended I was more absorbed in putting flowers and small stones together in a pot.

“Evan,” she said coolly, as she keyed in some text message. She was smiling at her phone screen.

That old demon jealousy took me by the throat. That Evan Boyle could bring that smile to her face!

“Why is he always calling you?” I asked, an edge to my voice.

“Just some things he wanted my help with.”

“Some things, huh,” I echoed dryly. I didn’t know I was already crushing a tiny stem in my hand.

The bell rang.

Kieran walked over to our table and eyed my finished product. “You’re really brilliant with ikebana, Miss Fitch.” He gave me a hearty clap on the back. “Well done with the balancing of elements and excellent choice of materials.”

I felt a 200-watt smile stretching across my face. “Thanks, Sir,” I said, brushing some pollen particles off my arms.

My megawatt smile froze on my face when I saw Evan in the doorway. I walked to the sink next to the door and regarded him. “So, Evan,” I began, “what brings you to Ikebana 101?” I casually asked, as I washed my hands.

Evan pointed at Naomi and flashed his disarming grin. “Is tonight a goer, Naomi?” he asked, walking toward the blonde.

Naomi thought a moment. “I’m going to the sentou with Natalia and Panda at six. Will 8pm be okay?”

Stuffing both hands into the pockets of his jeans, Evan flipped his hair to one side. “Okay. Meet you at the pub around eight, then.” Fucking hell. He’s even trying to look cute for my girlfriend! My jaw tightened.

Naomi smiled. “All right, Boyle. See you.” She went back to stuffing her things into her bag.

Evan spun round his heel and made his way back to the door, grinning. “Emily, I’ll just borrow your girl for a while tonight,” he said. “Hope that’s all right.”

I offered him a weak smile before he strode out of the room. Then I walked back to our table. “What’s that about?” I asked the blonde.

Naomi rolled her eyes. “It’s called friendship, Em. Surely you’ve heard of it.”

I stared hard at her. “Evan doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who cultivates platonic relationships with beautiful girls, Naomi.”

Naomi just shrugged and slung her bag over her shoulder. “Well, Emily, I guess I’m about to find that out for myself.”






To be continued . . .

2 comments:

  1. Sarah’s “If the words perky or spirit fingers come out of your mouth, I’m going to dump this pitcher of half-and-half over your head,” was fabulous.

    “Thomas stood by the machine, drinking his soda and watching us in amusement. Effy, on the other hand, was nowhere near amused.” Effy totally wins everything with this. It’s good that she is keeping Emily/Zoe in check. And then her throat clearing in class when they were making faces at each other, I am in love with her for doing that. Pity she can’t do that to Naomi/Evan.

    Which brings me onto…

    Evan reminding Emily and Effy of David. Not a good thing at all. I’m worried. And then that little tiff Emily and Naomi had in that classroom, and Evan calling her and her leaving Emily, and Emily crying, I’M REALLY WORRIED FOR THEM! And then at the end, “Naomi just shrugged and slung her bag over her shoulder. “Well, Emily, I guess I’m about to find that out for myself.””. Fuck. I’m starting to get into major panic mode now. NEED TO GO READ THE NEXT PART!!!!

    But before I do, I just wanted to say, Zoe is really fucking dangerous. “And, at all times, I eventually find out they’re actually attainable. I always get things my way, you know.” The new kids are killing Naomily D=

    Oh, and Zoe’s “If you won’t, I will.” Reminded me of Mandeh saying nearly the same thing to Naomi, and I couldn’t help the shudder from ripping through my body. Ew ew ew ew ew, get her away! Get her away! Get her away!

    ReplyDelete
  2. misFITCH3.1.11

    PLEASE DON'T BREAK UP!!!! PLEASE DON'T!!! It will shatter my whole world!

    ReplyDelete

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