Halfway Valentine | Chapter XX: Revisitation

The moonlight poured through my windows as I thought of the perfect words to assess the book I just read. My deadline is next week and we have upcoming exams so I wanted to finish the book review as soon as I can. I stared out of the window, nibbled the pen. Then after a slow, soothing sip of my hot chocolate, I went back to writing.

I stopped writing when I caught something sticking out from one of the books that were stacked on my desk. I pulled the folded piece of paper out and recognised it at once. It was the checklist I had made for myself eight months ago.

To my excitement, I played a Klutz Pinkies song on my iPod to set the mood. I took my pen again in the hope of getting to tick all the boxes on my checklist. I unfolded the paper, smoothed the creases, and began to read:

I chuckled when a memory popped in mind. I woke up only in my underwear in an unfamiliar cage of a hot Spanish girl, I recalled. How much more memorable could that be?

I snorted, putting an X in the box. “This will never happen.” 

A sad smile crossed my face. Until now I haven’t really uncovered the real Effy Stonem. It may take more time, I mused. And it’s more impossible now that Effy hates me. Frowning, I sipped on my hot drink and continued to read:

I pursed my lips. “Hmm . . . Yea,” I murmured wistfully. “I haven’t really had a decent conversation with Cook.” And now that he’s my sister’s boyfriend, I should make some effort to get to know him better.

I made a face. This has to happen really soon. I wanted for Mum to meet Naomi as well. She just have to deal with me . . . with us.

Define ‘dead crazy,’ I mused. I don’t know, really. Some of the things I do with the gang may seem damn wild for others but they feel normal for me. So ‘dead crazy’ was such a fuzzy concept. I’ll leave the box blank for now in case I do eventually find out what it truly means.

A chuckle escaped my lips. This is just impossible, I should’ve known, I thought. I’m just too thin-skinned. Too vulnerable.

I nibbled on the cap of my pen. Well, Naomi has done really sweet things for me, I reckoned. But I’m really waiting for that ultimate "swoon" moment.

“Why had I wanted to be kidnapped by a Yakuza again?” I wondered, shaking with mute chuckles. “Do I really want to lose a finger?” I shall leave this unticked forever, I decided.

I grinned. I had intended for this one to be a joke, because back then I didn’t think it would be possible. One big check, I thought but I decided to leave it blank because I knew there’d be more. In every place undreamed of. Under our tree in broad daylight, inside the laundry room, on the kitchen table, inside the sacred tatami room, and so on. And, Jesus. I did have a minor make-out session with Naomi in a gondola, right? Life’s just full of surprises. I smirked and kept on reading:

It made me burst into laughter. Oh, my God. This has been the most dramatic eight months of my life! I wrote a huge X in the box. And finally I reached the last bit:

The last words made me smile. Who would’ve known a shy, little Emily Fitch could snag a fiery Naomi Campbell? Just the idea was absurd. I thought it was impossible. But Zoe was right. There are just things that seem unattainable at first but you’d find attainable eventually. You just have to work for it and believe. I gave myself a mental pat on the back. Good job so far, Emily.

I took my laptop, opened my Facebook page again after two long weeks. For Pete’s sake. Brooke, Katie’s BFF, who I went out on a date with once, sent me five private messages asking me when do I plan to come home, posted a sickly-sweet ‘I miss you already’ with hearts on my wall eight times, and even tagged me in a racy photo of her. I went to her profile page and clicked the ‘Report/Block this Person’ button. I just hoped Katie wouldn’t kill me. I finally put a check on the very first goal.

I went to bed with a smile on my face. One down, six more to go. Minus the Yakuza bit. I knew I’d have to take the list one baby step at a time, but that it would be worth it. And when I do accomplish every bit, I could finally say that I had made the most out of my ten-month stay here in Japan.

“Excuse me, miss,” I began, approaching a heart-stoppingly gorgeous yet unfriendly-looking girl. “Listen, I know this sounds ridiculous but my friends over there dared me to kiss you. And I don’t really want them to think I’m wimpy, you know.”

The girl only stared at me with a raised brow.

“I mean, if it’s all right with you,” I said, as politely as I could. “I can settle with no tongue.”

The girl’s brow arched higher.

“Just for ten seconds. No tongue, I promise,” I urged, now blushing from humiliation. “Please?”

“Em,” Naomi began dryly, “if you want a kiss from me, you know don’t have to ask.” Smirking then, she took my head in her hands and kissed me hard. Then her fingers tangled in my hair, tilting my head and changing the angle, and the kiss became more tender and passionate going beyond 10 seconds . . . 15 seconds . . .

I heard the gang hooting, whistling and clapping over at the other side of the Kamo River.

. . . 20 seconds . . . 25 seconds . . .

The hooting became louder.

. . . 30 seconds . . . 38 seconds—

When the blonde finally released me, it took me quite a few seconds to shake off the haze. When my vision cleared out, I instantly saw Naomi rolling her eyes at this scowling woman who was covering her young son’s eyes with her hand.

“Yes?” Naomi addressed the lady indignantly. “You got a problem with us?”

The woman’s face only turned more sour, then she quickly turned on her heel and scurried away with the kid.

Naomi turned back to me and scoffed, “Ugh. It’s too early for self-righteous cows, yea?”

“Can you blame the poor lady, though?” I said, flushing. “That was quite a kiddie show we just put on.” I glanced nervously around the riverbanks and saw people who were also having their picnic whispering to one another. The colour on my cheeks rose.

Chuckling at my reddened face, Naomi took my hand. “C’mon, babe,” she said, tugging me toward the first stone step. “I know how useless you are with your limbs.”

I grinned, linked my fingers with hers, and held tight. “You’re the best.”

“I know,” she said, smirking smugly. “And you’re pathetic.”

I let out a giggle. “You know, if you weren’t my girlfriend, I’d be pissing in my underwear just standing in front of you.”

“You would?”

I nodded. “You look very scary, Naomes,” I said, as the blonde led me onto another step that was shaped like a turtle. “Like absolutely venomous. It’s like you’re gonna strike random people at any moment.”

“That scary?”

“Yea. I mean, if that was a real dare and you were a stranger, I’d totally just tell them ‘forget it,’” I blurted out. “You’re hot, Naomi, but you know I’d rather snog a harmless janitor fish than come up to you.”

Naomi made a face. “That scary, huh.” Then she pulled me onto the final stone step.

As soon as we landed on the grass, Naomi dashed toward the gang. “You bunch of hopeless little ratbags!” she jokingly snarled at them, “you just loved making Emily look like a clown there, didn’t you?”

“Oh, c’mon, grumpy ol’ Grams,” Cook responded, cackling like an idiot as he juggled a ball, “where’s yer fun?” Freddie, who was standing next to him, only laughed along.

“Quite a jolt for a Sunday morning,” Sarah commented with a tiny smile, as she worked on the grill. “But it’s nice to see the ultimate joined-at-the-hip couple joined at the hip again.”

“Holy dooley, yea!” JJ added, his face bright. “That was the hottest kiss ever.”

“And it’s all documented,” Thomas said, grinning as he patted his video-cam. “Another epic scene to be added to the Naomi & Emily compilation.”

“You should’ve seen them all over each other in the lounge. My eyes did burn.” Unexpectedly, Ben piped up. And unexpectedly, he joined us. “It was torture.” 

Naomi and I only rolled our eyes at the Polish brooder. Then the blonde walked over to the grill where Sarah and Ayami had been trying to barbecue something.

“Hey, Em.” Zoe winked at me as she passed by, with a Frisbee in her hand. She and Panda started playing.

I padded over to Evan who was busy with something. He was twisting a wire hanger into a weird form. What on earth is he doing? I wondered.

“Evan, what are you doing?” I asked, voicing my exact thoughts.

“The usual stuff,” he answered, still focused on what he was shaping.

“You mean playing with a clothes hanger is usual for you?”

He grinned up at me. “It's kinda disturbing but, yes,” he said, “I do prefer making my own harmonica holder.”

“Oh,” I said, looking at the weird-looking thing. “So that’s supposed to be a . . .” He placed it around his neck and inserted a harmonica between a couple of loops. “Oh.”

He gave me his boyish grin. “Emily, let’s do a duet,” he said. “JJ said you have an awesome voice.”

“Well, sometimes, JJ could be over-enthusiastic, you know,” I said, smiling lopsidedly. “He tends to overrate things.”

Evan shrugged and took his guitar. “Well, I trust his taste,” he said. “So, c’mon, just one song,” he prodded. “You know ‘Paperweight’?”

I nodded, smiling. “Yea. I love that song.”

“Cool. Let’s do it,” he said, patting the space beside him. “Now, come, sit here with me.”

As soon as I sat down, Evan began strumming. I took a deep breath then started the song. Evan joined me quickly. And within a short while, the gang was already circled around us. Except for Naomi who was still over at the grill. And Effy who was sitting near the water, smoking by herself. We were swaying together to the music. Some were singing with us.

“. . . Mess up my bed with me.”

I caught Naomi’s eyes and held it.

“Kick off the covers, I’m waiting.”

We shared our private smiles for each other.

“Every word you say, I think I should write down,” I went on, with real feelings. “Don’t want to forget come daylight.” Naomi flushed and smiled bashfully at me. I smirked inwardly at the look on her beautiful face. I could still make her blush.

“. . . It’s you,” I sang, my eyes fixed on the blonde. “It’s you. It’s you.”

Naomi was only watching me, mindlessly patting the hamburger patties with a spatula.

“. . . You made it back to sleep again. Wonder what you’re dreaming.”

The gang applauded after the song. Zoe quickly came up to me and tried to whisper something into my ear but a cloud of smoke caught my attention.

My eyes widened instantly. “Naomi, the hamburgers are on fire!” I exclaimed, fighting off laughter.

“Oh, shit!” Naomi impulsively poured a pitcher of orange juice over the burning patties. “Shit. Fucking shit.”

The gang cracked up, as Naomi panicked around the grill.

Quickly I scrambled to my feet and walked over to the blonde, laughing. I stood behind her. “Maybe the flame’s too high, babe,” I mocked, wrapping my arms around her waist as she adjusted a few knobs.

“Oh, so you’re the Iron Chef now, huh,” she said, between quick breaths.

“Nope. Just learning from the master,” I said, tightening my embrace to try and soothe her. God, she’s so cute.

She turned around in my arms, slipped her arms around my neck and drew me in for a quick kiss. Then she went back to her grilling.

Feeling someone standing behind me, I whirled around. Zoe took a tiny flower petal off my hair.

“I’m sorry, Emily,” Zoe said, a smirk curling one corner of her lip. “A dare’s a dare.” She curved her hand around my nape and leant in all of a sudden—

“Hey, hey, hey.” Naomi held out a spatula in front of Zoe’s face to stop her. “What do you think you’re doing, Spandex?” She lifted menacing brows at her.

“Someone dared me to kiss Emily,” Zoe said coolly, giving a half-shrug. “I’m just doing what I’ve been asked to do.”

Naomi’s eyebrows arched higher. “Who? Who dared you?”

“Cook.”

“Okay. Just hang on there, Hammond. Don’t move,” Naomi said, then she spun on her heel, strode off, and shouted, “Cook!” 

Naomi grabbed Cook by his ear and quickly tugged him toward us. “You fucking bastard! Take it back.”

“What is it, Blondie?” Cook asked.

“Take the fucking dare back.” Naomi pinched his ear harder. Zoe looked away, stifling amused laughter.

“Okay, okay, Jaysus!” Cook cried, scowling. Then he regarded Zoe. “Awrite, Zoe babes,” he said, rubbing his palms together. “Give Naomikins a sloppy snog instead.”

“Hey!” I said indignantly.

Naomi took the soccer ball from his hands and threw it hard toward Cook’s leg, making the Irish lad jerk in pain.

“Okay! Awrite!” Cook snickered, stroking his leg. “Ye girls are no fun at all.” He went back to playing football with Freddie and JJ.

I went over to Thomas who was watching Panda in amusement, and dropped next to him on the picnic blanket.

“You might not want to stare too much,” I warned, playfully bumping my shoulder against his. “Or Panda will melt already.”

Thomas let out a laugh. “I can’t help it,” he blurted out. “I bet you can’t, too.”

I glanced over at Naomi. She looked dazzlingly beautiful even only in an olive green button-down top, a pair of tan shorts, a pair of brown combat boots, and a fedora on her head. She might have felt my eyes on her as she looked at me and gave me a knee-weakening wink. I sucked in a quick breath and uttered an oath under my breath. Damn.

“They’re our objects of lust,” Thomas went on wistfully, still staring at a giggling Panda.

“Objects of lust, yes,” I agreed, smiling.

Then both our gazes flew to a certain brunette, smoking alone, sitting by the river. I haven’t really talked to Effy after the rooftop incident. I wanted to give her time. I thought she was still hurt by my words. But I never meant to insult her. It just happened.

“Have you two made up?” Thomas asked.

I shook my head, then let out a sad breath. “Did I really upset her?”

“I don’t think so. She’s Effy,” he said simply.

“The Great Miss Stonem might have the Great Wall of China around her, Thomas,” I began soberly, “but she has feelings, too. You, of all people, should know that.”

Thomas shrugged. “I dunno about Elizabeth’s walls, though, Emily,” he said quietly. “I dunno if they really work for her . . . or if she’s failing inside.” He shook his head sympathetically as he gazed at the brunette.

“Well, then,” I said, climbing on my feet. “I’m gonna go and find that out.”

“That was quite a scene what drunken Emily Fitch started on the rooftop,” Effy said, as soon as I parked myself on the pebbly ground next to her.

“I’m sorry, Effy,” I said quietly. “I really am sorry.”

“Why, because you were telling the truth?” she said. “Never apologise for telling the truth, Emily.” She lit a cigarette, blew a slender column of smoke toward the clear blue sky.

“Why are you scared so much, Ef?” I said. “Of love, I mean.”

It took her a moment to answer. “It’s really not about me being scared, Ems," she said. “I just don’t believe in it.”

“Why?”

A smile curled Effy’s lip. “When I was about nine, my brother Tony and I watched Edward Scissorhands, and I fell madly in love with Johnny Depp as Edward. There was this boy in my class who was an albino—although at the time I had no idea what that was—but he had white hair and eyelashes and he was kind of quiet and strange, so I was sure he was deep and sensitive, just like Edward. I wrote him love notes that he never acknowledged, but I thought he was just shy, like Edward. So finally, I asked my mum, ‘How do you know if a guy really loves you?’”

“What did she say?”

“She said, ‘He really loves you if you’re his wife and he spends more money on your birthday present than he does on his girlfriend’s.’”

For a moment, I was silent. I saw the pain in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Effy,” I said at length.

She shrugged. “There are countless things about my mother I dislike intensely, but her brutal honesty isn’t one of them.”

“More like bitter cynicism,” I said. “I never had to ask my parents about love because I saw it demonstrated every fucking day. And I’m so sorry you didn’t have that, Ef.”

She gave a bitter chuckle. “And the irony of life,” she added. “My oh-so-in-love aunt and her husband who are still oh-so-in-love have split up, while my can’t-stand-each-other-and-never-could-stand-each-other parents are still together.”

“Even the greatest love can—does—hit walls that seem undefeatable at times, but you can’t give up. Ever.”

Effy took a long drag on her cigarette. “You know the real deal about love, Emily?” she said. “It is much an illusion as a David Copperfield show. A figment of the imagination. Just another thing we conjured up to make us feel better, or not give up hope, or numb the fucking pain. Like drugs. Or alcohol. Or sex. Or religion. Or this cigarette stick. Whatever gets you through the—” She paused.

I realised she was no longer looking at me, but past me. I turned around to see where she’s looking at.

Freddie. Crossing the river with Sarah. Of course, Freddie.

We are all such a cliché, I thought. If our lives were made into a movie, I’d demand a fucking refund.

“Freds and Sarah.” I frowned, with genuine deep concern. “I’d be deeply worried if I were you, Ef.”

Effy tore her eyes away from them. She took another drag, tapped her cigarette on the ground, then took out another stick from her pack wordlessly.

I regarded her with compassion. “Some people are just not willing to wait for how long it takes, Effy.”

She drew on the flame from her lighter.

“And sometimes, when you realise you’re ready,” I went on, “it’s too late.”

Turning her gaze back to the rushing waters, Effy inhaled deeply on her cigarette. Behind the spiraling smoke, I saw that glint of realisation in her blue eyes.

She knew I was right.

Naomi and I sat on the bleachers, as we watched Sarah during her cheerleading practice. They were almost done with their routine. It was a gorgeous early-June day, the kind that reminded me I’d rather live in a tropical island than anywhere else on earth. The sun beat down from a sky so clear.

Below us, at the pitch, were small clusters of students sat perched on the wall or sprawled on the lawn, laughing and gossiping. The chants and claps of the cheerleaders floated through the air. From across the pitch a poppy beat pulsed from the stereo. 

“You’re so cute, baaabe.” Naomi pinched my cheek, as I licked my ice-cream cone.

“Stop it,” I said, fighting off a blush.

Naomi took a bite of her ice cream popsicle. “So, Em, I’ve been thinking . . . we should do something during the summer break.”

“Uh-huh,” I said. “Do you have something in mind?”

Naomi shrugged. “Nothing definite for now, but it could be a nice little trip somewhere, yea?”

I nodded. “Yea, that sounds brill,” I said rather coolly, as I went on licking my ice cream.

“Jesus, Emily, your enthusiasm is overwhelming,” Naomi said sarcastically. “Couldn’t you at least pretend to be a tiny bit excited?”

I laughed, patted her cheek, then just continued eating my ice cream. I was actually excited with the thought of spending the summer break with Naomi but that also meant goodbye and I just thought it was too early to talk about it. I closed my eyes and took time to savour the cold sweet cream melting in my mouth. When I opened my eyes I found Naomi with her eyes fixed on my mouth.

I cocked a teasing eye at the blonde. “You want me to get you another popsicle, babe?” I said, polishing off my ice-cream cone and fighting a smirk. “You look like you’re still craving some more.”

Naomi quickly dipped her finger into my ice cream and smeared my cheek with it.

“Naomi!” I gasped, wiping my cheek.

She grinned at me. “You fucking tease.” Then she leant in for a kiss but I pulled back and quickly put my ice cream cone between our lips.

Naomi drew back, scowling. “You’re such a tease, Emily Fitch.”

“Aww . . . my favourite couple,” Sarah called loudly over the music. “Were you two even watching me? Actually, no, are you two even aware that there are other people around you when you’re together?” She raised her brows and put her hands on her hips in question.

“Actually, yes,” Naomi said. “I’m very aware of how Zoe stares like a creepster at my girlfriend. And it fucking makes me want to scratch her eyes out.”

Sarah only rolled her eyes.

I took my turn. “Well, I’m also aware of how Evan tries to look cute for Naomi. And it pisses me off.”

Chuckling and shaking her head in disbelief, Sarah tossed her stuff into her bag. “You two are hopeless,” she said. “Okay, I’m going to go get changed before this discussion gets any further. The thing I hate most is taking sides.”

When Sarah disappeared into the locker rooms, Naomi spoke. Her tone was rather indignant.

“I swear if that Zoe eye-fucks you again I’m gonna slap her face with a pair of massive flippers.”

“And if I see Boyle try to be cute in front of you again,” I said, “I’m going to whack his arse with his guitar.”

“Emily, I don’t find Evan attractive in the least,” Naomi said, her tone sincere. “I never have. But I confess I used his aggressiveness for my own purposes. Whenever you hurt me, I let you think the worst.” She drew a breath and exhaled slowly. “I’m not proud of it, but I wanted to hurt you back.”

I shot her a sideways look. “Whenever I hurt you?” I questioned. “When did I hurt you?”

“With Zoe.”

“But . . . I was just being a good friend. We're just friends.”

“Friendly friends,” Naomi corrected.

“I’ll never convince you, will I?”

“Well, I saw the way she looked at you, and the way you looked at her in class,” she said, “and it was tough.”

“Well, it’s nice to know you noticed, at least,” I said. “You were so fucking impervious. I just wanted you to look at me!”

“Look at you?” she snorted. “Are you joking? You acted as if I were invisible!”

“You weren’t invisible,” I said. “You were all over Boyle.”

“Never,” she said softly.

Silence fell between us. I let out a sigh.

“It’s all so stupid now, really,” Naomi said at length, staring down at the pitch.

“Yes, it is,” I agreed quietly, putting aside my unfinished cone on the floor.

She turned to look at me then. “Can I kiss you now?”

Her childlike request made my mouth stretch into a smile. “You know you don’t have to ask.”

I had hot tea made, Fitch Salad prepared, and broccoli and tofu frying when Naomi and JJ came back from the Aussie lad’s kendo tournament.

“I could murder a horse,” Naomi said, putting her bag on the table. “Something smells good.”

I poured Naomi a cup of hot tea, whilst Sarah cracked eggs into a second fry pan.

“Did you win?” Sarah asked JJ.

“I won a couple of matches, yes,” JJ said, grinning.

“Sweet,” Sarah said. “Then it’s really time to cele—”

“But lost the other eight,” JJ added, grinning sheepishly.

Sarah laughed, as she dumped the omelette onto a plate. “JJ, I’m sorry,” she said, “but you’re pathetic.”

The four of us settled around the table.

I helped myself to Sarah’s omelette. “So, anything interesting that’s happened today besides JJ winning . . . and losing?”

“Pathetically,” added Sarah.

JJ paused with his chopsticks in midair. “Oh, I have another awesome one,” he mumbled. “Here’s a funny story, y’guys,” he began.

“JJ—” Naomi shot him a menacing look.

JJ ignored the blonde. “So on the way home Naomi and I were sitting on a bus when this old lady came in and started lashing out at Naomi, threatening her with her wooden cane. Apparently, the woman wanted Naomi’s seat which was ridiculous because there were lots of available seats on the bus. But the lady wanted Naomi’s seat so she went on shouting at Naomi and Naomi got really scared. Like scared-stiff. She almost cried.”

“She was being mean to me,” Naomi said. And her childish expression made me and Sarah burst into laughter.

“Aww . . . baby,” I cooed, stroking her hair gently. “Poor baby.”

“I swear, that woman is evil,” Naomi said, forking her tofu. “Like she was born to spread terror.”

“It takes a lot fierceness to intimidate a Naomi Campbell, I must say,” Sarah said. “And that old lady deserves some kind of an achievement award for that.” This made everyone crack up all the more.

I ate a piece of broccoli. “What more if she meets my mum.”

Naomi snorted. “Glad that’ll never happen.”

My head snapped to the blonde instantly. “What?”

“Well, you said your mum’s a monster,” Naomi said, “and you really wouldn’t—”

“But I want you to meet her, Naomi—”

“Hiya!” Zoe’s head popped from the kitchen doorway.

“What is it now, Zoe?” Naomi said, a bit snappishly. “What are you doing here?”

“Um. Last time I checked this is a communal kitchen,” Zoe shot back, walking over to me. “Anyway, I brought some strawberries for you guys. Ayami-chan took us to this strawberry-picking thing.” She placed a plastic bag filled with huge strawberries on the table.

“Oh, I love strawberries,” JJ said, smiling gratefully at Zoe. “Thanks, Zoe.” He took a piece.

“Okay, I gotta go take a shower now,” Zoe said as she toyed with a lock of my hair which made Naomi glare at her. “Later, guys.” She strode off.

Naomi rolled her eyes. “Ugh. That girl’s a creep.”

“But she’s an awesome creep,” JJ said, popping a strawberry into his mouth.

We finished dinner with a full stomach. I walked Naomi to her room.

Naomi hugged me and let out a big grunt. “Ugh. Are we too girly, or what?”

“Abnormally mushy,” I agreed, and Naomi fixed my hair because she always does.

Then she unlocked her door. “Okay.”

“Okay, what?” I asked.

“Okay, I’ll meet your mum,” she filled in. “But only because you’re my girlfriend and I love you and I know it’s important to you.”

I rose to my toes to kiss her cheek. “You’re the best.”

She smiled. “I know.”

My mouth formed a grim smile. “Déjà vu,” I said, as Naomi placed her hand on my lap. “Only with a bigger cow this time.”

Naomi shot me a hard look. “That’s not a very nice way to speak of your mother.”

I laughed. “Okay, here we go—”

“No, wait!” Naomi pulled my hand away from the keyboard. “I need a second.” She did a dramatic breathe-in-breathe-out motion. “I’m wetting my pants right now.”

“She’s going to accept you,” I said in an iron voice. “One way or another.”

“Why do I believe that’s wishful thinking?”

“Because you’ve never trusted my feelings for you.”

She dropped a kiss on my cheek and squeezed my thigh. “Oh, babe. You’re so mushy.”

I shot her a glacial look when I saw the corners of her mouth twitching. “You lack sap in your blood.”

“Excuse me,” she scoffed. “Naomi Campbell never runs out of cheese,” she said matter-of-factly.

She looked so sure of herself that it made me burst into laughter. She joined me soon after.

Our laughter died in our throats when my mother appeared on the laptop screen in front of us.

“Hi, Mum,” I greeted.

“Emily,” Mum said, then her eyes flicked to Naomi. “And . . .”

“Naomi,” I filled in, as the blonde and I shared our sweet, private smiles for each other.

Mum had that suspicious look on her face. I felt that Naomi noticed it as well. I squeezed her hand reassuringly.

“Naomi, here’s my mum, Jenna,” I offered as an introduction.

Naomi managed a smile. “Good day, Jenna.”

Mum was still studying the two of us warily, obviously uncomfortable. There was a tension-laden silence that befell afterwards.

“Such a pleasure to finally meet you,” Naomi jumped in, beating back the awkward silence. I shot Naomi a sideways look and noticed her uneasiness. God, she was trying so hard. I wanted to save her. I bet she was looking for nice words to say about Mum, but couldn’t.

My mother only stared at her with raised brows.

“I – uh—” Naomi stammered. “I’ve heard so much—”

“Well, hello, all!” Dad appeared, greeting us with a cheery grin.

“Hi, Dad,” I sang out, sighing inwardly. Good save, Dad, I thought. “This is Naomi.”

Mum then had that forced smile. “It’s nice to know you’ve made friends, sweetie,” she said at length.

“Naomi’s my girlfriend,” I said.

My mother’s smile instantly vanished, to be replaced by a glower. Dad’s lips parted in surprise but he smiled nonetheless.

“That’s very nice,” Dad said, a little awkwardly but way better than Mum’s reaction. “And very nice to meet you, Naomi. I’m Rob, Emily’s dad.”

Naomi opened her mouth for a response but Mum suddenly spoke.

“You just had to mention it, didn’t you, Emily?” Mum said. Her voice grew noticeably chillier.

“Mum, I’m trying to—”

“Don’t be silly, Emily,” Mum said, chuckling icily. “Oh, kids these days, Rob. Always trying to seek attention, aren’t they?”

To my surprise, it was Naomi who answered. “You really think that’s what Emily’s doing?”

“I should’ve known sending you to that boarding school was a huge mistake,” Mum went on as if Naomi hadn’t spoken. “These corrupt ideas they put into your head.”

“It’s not a mistake, Mum,” I insisted. “It helped me find out who I truly am, helped me embrace who I am.”

“She can’t help what she is, Jenna,” Naomi piped up, her tone quiet in spite of her jaw tightening. “Neither can I.”

My mother glanced at Naomi, opened her mouth to say something, changed her mind, and turned to me again with a sharp look.

“This is just a phase, Emily,” Mum said. “You’re not gay. When will you wake up?”

“No, Mum!” I snapped, nearly trembling at the fury. “When will you wake up?”

Mum only gave me a stony face. Her cold eyes made me wince inwardly but I fought it off.

My anger made me lean forward in my chair. “Mum, I’m gay. I’m a big, fat gay!” I nearly spat it out. “I love girls. I love Naomi.” Jaw tightening with determination, I went on, “I can’t fix it, okay? When will you—”

Mum’s mouth pinched. “Emily,” she began grimly. “I’m sorry but I’m not feeling well all so suddenly.”

My lips parted in violent protest, but Naomi put a tender hand on my arm to stop me.

“Ems, please,” Naomi began.

Mum turned on the blonde rather scathingly. “You too, missy. Stop putting ideas into my daughter’s head,” she said to her. “Now if you’ll excuse me.”

Naomi suddenly spoke. “Your daughter needs you, Jenna.”

My throat tightened at the raw emotion in Naomi’s voice. But Mum didn’t hear it, or didn’t care. She retreated out of the room, without another word or a backward glance.

“I’m sorry ‘bout that, girls,” Dad said, with real shame. “Jenna could be very stiff sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” I scoffed. “She’s a nasty old witch all the time, Dad. She wouldn’t listen to me. I could try and talk to her all day and she won’t even bother hearing me out!”

“Emily, it’s okay,” Naomi said quietly, squeezing my hand.

“Your mum needs more time,” Dad said.

“I’ve been gay for years, Dad. How much more time does she need?” I couldn’t stop the angry tears from falling.

“You know your mum has always been . . . tough – unbending, strict,” Dad said. “She needs one step at a time to accept something new, to deal with something like this.”

My lips quivered. “You mean ruthless. Heartless. Pitiless nasty old witch.”

“Ems.” Naomi looked at me despairingly and squeezed my hand for the umpteenth time.

Dad smiled gently at me. “You and your mum may not see eye to eye but she loves you, dear,” he said. “I’ll try to talk to your mother, okay? It’s not easy for her, love. She needs time.”

For a moment my mouth tightened stubbornly. Clearly I was still angry at my mother. But then what Dad said had gotten through. “Thanks, Dad.”

“I love you, sweet girl,” Dad said, his smile blooming. “And, Naomi, you better take care of my girl.”

When the call got disconnected, I instinctively turned to Naomi and hugged her. “I’m sorry, Naomi.” My eyes filled, swimming with hot tears. “I'm sorry.”

“Emily, it’s okay,” she assured me, running her hands up and down my back.

As my fury drained, despair crept into the void.  “No, it’s not,” I said, drawing back slightly to look at her. “Why does she have to be a fucking cow in front of you?”

I could see she was touched by my passionate defence, yet her face remained calm.

The tears spilled over, but I let Naomi lead me to the bed. I cuddled there with her with tangled threats of contentment and anguish.

Naomi ran a hand through my hair. “It’s okay,” she repeated. “Let’s just give her time.”

I stared down my hands. “I thought, you know, she’d be more understanding now,” I said. “Now that I'm an adult—capable of making my own decisions, knows full well what it is that I want in life . . .”

She tilted my head up, compelling me to look at her. “Emily, maybe your dad’s right. Maybe your mum needs baby steps. Just be patient.”

I sucked in my breath and hastily wiped my eyes. “What if she doesn’t change?”

Naomi smiled. “Trust me, she’s a mother. In the end it’s always your happiness she’d wish for.”

“I hope you’re right, Naomi,” I said, smiling weakly. “I really hope you’re right.”

“Did you finish your article for the meeting?” Zoe asked as me as we walk toward the HaDai Break office on Tuesday afternoon.

“Finally.” I blushed. “I would’ve shown you last night, but I finished in the computer room about five seconds ago.”

“That’s okay,” Zoe said. “I haven’t even started with my article on the swim team yet.”

“Hey, girlfriends!” a girl’s voice called.

I whirled around and saw Sarah and Naomi walking down the hallway toward me and Zoe.

Sarah studied us. “You look like two girls in desperate need of relaxation. And so we’re going to the mall.”

“We can’t,” Zoe said promptly. “We have a meeting.”

“Oh, c’mon, you two,” Sarah said, quickly tugging on my sleeve. “And Emily, I need something to wear for your birthday party. I’m sick of everything I own.”

“C’mon, babe,” Naomi urged me, grabbing my books out of my hands. “I need you as my fashion adviser.”

Hiro, our editor-in-chief, popped his head out of the HaDai Break office. “You girls coming in?”

“Yep,” Zoe said. “C’mon, Emily.” She walked into the office.

Hiro raised his brows. “Emily-chan? We have to go over some articles.”

I smiled at him and nodded. “Yes, Hiro-san.” I took my books back from Naomi and walked through the door as Hiro held it open.

Zoe and I walked over to the long conference table and I was just about to take my seat when Naomi stuck her head into the office. “Hiro, I just remembered,” she called. Hiro came up to her and Naomi whispered something into his ear.

My heart pounded. OK. What is she doing? And the cheek of Naomi to talk casually like that to Hiro as if they’re actually friends. They haven’t even been introduced yet. I was suppressing laughter. Un-fucking-believable.

Hiro turned to me with a smirk. “Okay,” he said. “You’re free to go, Emily-chan. Just leave your article on the table.”

What the fuck? I had no idea what was happening but I stood up nonetheless and made my way to the door.

“What did you tell him?” I asked Naomi, as we started down the hallway.  

“Oh, nothing really scandalous,” she answered, stifling a sly smirk. “I just told him you’re my girlfriend and it’s your birthday tomorrow and so we’re going out on a romantic lingerie shopping date.”

My mouth dropped open in disbelief. Sarah burst into laughter.

Un-fucking-believable.

“You’re so cunning,” I said, shaking my head in disbelief.

“I didn’t say a single fib, though,” Naomi said, chuckling. Then she grabbed my wrist and tugged me. “Now, c’mon, baby, let’s get you a sexy corset.”

“Happy birthday, love,” Dad sang out.

I grinned at the webcam. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Your mum’s here to greet you as well,” he said, and my grin faded almost immediately. “Come here, darling.”

“Hey, sweetie. Happy birthday.” My mother’s warmth was very refreshing after having our last heated Skype convo.

“And there’s a special guest,” Dad added. “Come, boy!”

My little brother, James, appeared grinning. “Hi, Emily. Happy birthday,” he said. “You getting any birthday muff?”

“Hey,” Naomi called out, parking herself next to me in front of my laptop.

James’s face lit up. “Oh, there’s the muff. Nice one, Emily.”

“Nice to see the rest of the Fitch family here,” Naomi went on. “But where is Katie?”

“Katie’s still in school,” Dad answered pleasantly. “But she said she will give you a ring later, Emily.”

“What is she doing here?” Mum muttered, looking at Naomi as if she were a slug she’d discovered on her roses. “Aren’t you two done with this preposterous show?”

“Okay. Look, Mum,” James piped up. “We didn’t call Emily for you to fight with her. We wanted to wish her a happy birthday, yea?”

“Stay out of this, James,” Mum snarled. “Go back to your room.”

“I’m only saying, Mum,” James argued. “Emily has the—”

“James. Outside,” Mum growled.

“Fine,” James grunted, scratching his head in annoyance. “Happy birthday again, Emily. And nice meeting you, Naomi,” he said with a genuine smile before he left the room.

“Mum, I’m twenty years old,” I said, trying to remain calm. “Do you really still think this ‘preposterous show’ is just for me to get your attention?”

“You’re not gay, Emily,” Mum said. “You’re just confused. Like lots of girls your age.”

“I’m not confused, okay?” I insisted. “I’ve known it for years. I’m sure of it. You just have to deal with it.”

Mum’s nose shot upward. “Now, I regret letting you go there—”

My eyes blazed. “Oh, so now you’re blaming Kyoto as well?”

Mum glanced pointedly at Naomi before regarding me again. “These stupid ideas you might have,” she said, “this girl have helped nurture and feed there.”

“It’s your daughter’s birthday, for Chrissakes,” Naomi snapped. “Could you spare her a little warmth?”

That caught my mother’s attention. She looked at Naomi condescendingly. “I know how exciting the thought of fooling around with my pretty daughter could be, Naomi,” she said. “But this whole thing will pass, you know. Once Emily is home, she will regret and forget all about this outrageous . . . joke. You two will only be hurt in the end.”

“Thank you for your concern, Mrs. Fitch,” Naomi said stiffly. My stomach began to churn.

“I do understand, dear,” my mother said to Naomi. Her voice was suddenly kind, coaxing, leaving me reeling a bit from the sweetness of the change. “To a lonely and lost girl, a wild, out of the ordinary relationship is fascinating. There’s a certain . . . thrill no one can deny.”

My jaw tightened. “Mum, you—” I tried for a retort, but Dad beat me to it.

“Enough, Jenna,” Dad ground out. “The kids have heard enough.”

Mum abruptly stood and did what she’d always do when she loses an argument: Walk out.

Blinking back a tear, I managed a weak smile. “Thanks, Dad.”

“I’m sorry about that again, girls,” Dad said ruefully. “Jenna might be a little scarce in the tolerance department, but I’m here behind you two.” He gave us a reassuring smile.

When I shut my laptop closed, Naomi wouldn’t look at me.

Naomi stood up, tidied her hair, all without a single glance my direction. It took me three tries before I could even get out her name.

“Naomi? Are you all right?”

Naomi nodded. “I was just . . . thinking.”

I had to force the words out past the sudden tightness in my throat. “About . . . what Mum said?”

She nodded.

“You know she hates me,” I said, hating the desperation that had crept into my voice.

“Not what she said about you,” Naomi said, her voice oddly flat. “What she said about me.”

My mother’s words rang in my head as I closed the book I was supposed to make a review of for HaDai Break.

“Aren’t you two done with this preposterous show?”

Was that it? Does she really still think this whole thing is an act? Fuck’s sake. It’s really frustrating and saddening to have a very stubborn and callous mother.

“To a lonely and lost girl, a wild, out of the ordinary relationship is fascinating.”

Was that it? Was the thought of being in a relationship with a girl, that thrill my mother had spoken of, at the root of Naomi’s attraction to me?

But Naomi was so much more than that. I knew she was.

I didn’t even realise I was going to celebrate my birthday party in a few hours, whilst my mind was spinning, trying to process the assessment my mother had hung on me and my girlfriend.

There was rubbish on the telly, some Japanese game show where they had to answer questions to stop a bucket of black gunge from falling on them. I rubbed my eyes, and continued to look toward the nonsense on the telly.

I grabbed the remote and turned the TV off, then swiveled in my chair to face the window. The sun was already setting, dimming the sky, making the skyline gloomy.

My phone rang. I answered it.

“Hey, Birthday Girl.” It was a very perky Sarah. “Where are you still?”

“Still here at the dorm,” I replied. “But I’ll be leaving soon.”

“We’re already here at Keith's Pub.”

“Is Naomi there?” I ventured.

“Yea, she’s here somewhere with Effy and JJ.”

“Her phone is turned off,” I said. “I’ve been trying to contact her all afternoon.”

“Maybe her phone just ran out of batt,” Sarah said lightly. “Anyway, could you do me a favour, Emily?”

“Yea?”

“I think I left my inhaler on the rooftop couch,” she said. “Check under the cushions. I swear, the smoke here could be the very death of me. Could you bring it over here for me, please? Pretty please?”

“Sure,” I said pleasantly.

“Thanks, Emily,” she said. “See you. And you better get here fast. There’s a mountain of tequila shots waiting for you.”

As soon as she hung up, I placed my phone on top of my desk and strode out of my room.

I pushed open the rooftop door. Sweet music — the first chords of Adele’s Make You Feel My Love — instantly swung through the mid-June air. When I landed on the topmost floor, my jaw dropped as I looked around the rooftop.

Soft lights twinkled above. White, tiny Christmas lights dangled all over the place like floating stars. It felt magical.

And there she was. In the middle of it all.

Naomi.

Wearing a simple yet gorgeous red dress. Nonchalantly dazzling. Otherworldly prepossessing. Strikingly beautiful.

And there was a blue rose. A perfect bloom in her hand. And a small table for two, crowded with delightful treats.

I swallowed, feeling a bit overwhelmed, before I started toward her. I moved forward one slow step by one slow step, my eyes fixed on the beautiful blonde ahead.

Naomi’s right hand reached for mine and I slipped my left hand in its warmth. She handed me the flower and I held it after taking a swift whiff of its sweet scent. Her blue eyes regarded me for long, loving moments.

Adele’s soothing voice wafted through the rooftop. “When the rain is blowing in your face . . .”

Naomi lifted a hand to sweep the stray bangs off my face. “Happy birthday, Emily.”

I gazed up at her with pure love. “Thank you,” I said simply.

“Plus points to my being abnormally mushy, yea?” She smirked.

“And more to your sneakiness.” Smiling, I touched my lips to hers. “You never cease to amaze me.”

I had been scared that Naomi ran away for the final time, but she was here in front of me. She stayed. Tears brimmed in my eyes.

Naomi cupped my face in her hand, studying me. “Is everything okay, Em?”

“I’m sorry for what my mum said,” I said. “You really can’t think I’m anything like what she said. It’s not true,” I assured her.

“I don’t believe her, not about you,” Naomi said quietly. “But for a second she made me wonder . . . about me.”

“Don’t let her do that.”

She brushed a stray tear away from my cheek with her knuckle. “I didn’t. Because it was then I realised . . .”

“And there is no one there to dry your tears.”

She tipped my face back and kissed the side of my mouth. “I’m not lonely and lost, Emily,” she said. “Not anymore.”

Adele crooned, “I could hold you for a million years . . .”

 Naomi smiled, drawing me closer. “Not anymore,” she repeated. “Because I have you.”

“. . . to make you feel my love.”

“We can prove her wrong, yea?” the blonde went on.

“Yes,” I said, my eyes drifted closed. “We can.”

She slipped her arms around my waist. I wrapped my arms around her neck. Automatically, I matched my steps to hers.

I drew her closer, laid my cheek against hers. “I wish this moment would never end, Naomes.”

Adele went on, “I’ve known it from the moment that we met . . .”

“Me too, Ems,” Naomi whispered, tenderly slipping one hand into my hair. “Me too.”

“No doubt in my mind where you belong.”

She smelled fabulous, I mused. The scent of her skin made me think of mint chocolates and blue roses.

“I’d go hungry. I’d go black and blue,” Adele sang. “I’d go crawling down the avenue.”

I drew back to look at her face. “Really?”

“Well, I lied about the ‘I’d go hungry’ part,” Naomi said, smirking. “You know, I won’t be able to last two days without your salad.”

I can only chuckle in response.

She lovingly toyed with the ends of my hair that rained over my shoulders. “Your eyes shine even brighter than the stars, Emily.”

Her fingers felt entirely too good against my skin, I realised. “Umm,” I said, crinkling my nose. “That was such a lame, over-used line, Miss Campbell.”

She turned beet red. “Okay. Forget I said that.”

“No, it’s sweet,” I said, smiling. “I’ll give you an A for At least trying.”

Music filled the place but could not drown Naomi’s sweet chuckles.

We twirled, bobbed, turned. Slow dancing the night away.

“The storms are raging on the rollin’ seas,” Adele continued.

We were moving together, slowly, fluidly.

“I’m sorry for what I’m about to do,” Naomi murmured against my ear. “I know I’m not the singer between us two.” She twirled me. I let out a giggle. When she drew me back in, her tone became tuneful. “You ain’t seen nothin’ like me yet,” she crooned, curling the corner of her lip.

I smirked up at her. “Figjam.”

Smiling sweetly, she cleared her throat lightly and began singing again to the following lines. “I could make you happy, make your dreams come true. Nothing that I wouldn’t do.”

She stroked my cheek with the back of her hand. “Go to the ends of the earth for you to make you feel my love . . .”

Naomi nuzzled my neck and tightened her embrace. “To make you feel my love.” The last sweet notes faded into the air. She gave me one last twirl, caught me gently in her arms. 

And I was swept off my feet.

It was a cool and windy June night. Our football club, Los Maravillosos, had a special party to celebrate the men’s team’s victory on their last tournament. Everyone gathered in a football pitch we rented. I took my plate filled with food to the bleachers and sat next to Cook on a step. I dropped my gym bag on the step behind me.

“This is for ye, Emily babes.” Cook thrust a box — wrapped in silver paper, tied with a blue ribbon – to me. “I know I’m a week late, but happy birthday.”

I opened it. It was a box of seashell-shaped Belgian chocolates, each in its own silver or gold foil wrapper.

Cook gave a lopsided smile. “Katiekins told me ye fancy chocolates.”

“Yea, I do,” I said, gazing at the chocolates. “Like madly in love with them.”

“So, now ye have a whole box for yeself,” he said, smirking. “Chocolates give me zits so ye don’t need to share.”

I smiled at him. “Thank you, Cook.”

“An’ Katie told me ye’re scared of shells,” he added. “So that’s kinda tricky, yea? Seashell-shaped chocolates. Scary shells or yummy chocolates?” he challenged.

I unwrapped one and took a bite. I closed my eyes as the chocolate melted in my mouth. “Chocolates win by knockout,” I declared with a grin.

Cook watched me in amusement. “Know what’s great about not bein’ a li’l kid anymore?” he asked. “Ye get to eat dessert first.”

“You’re right,” I agreed, as I popped another chocolate into my mouth. Cook broke off a huge hunk of bread and some cheese and began to chow down.

After four chocolate pieces, I took a sip of my Mountain Dew. Then I turned to Cook. “You’re a nice bloke, Cook,” I said, patting his head. “I mean, a lot nicer than I thought you were.”

“Fock you.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but my sister’s indeed a ‘lucky babe.’ Wow.” I snickered.

Cook scratched his head. “Did I miss something?”

“I saw your post-it,” I filled in. “‘Cook. With a girlfriend. Wow. Cook. In love. Wow.’ Ring a bell?”

“Fock you. I was feckin’ gee-eyed when I wrote that.” He snorted. “Actually I thought of breaking up with her—”

“What?” I asked disbelievingly.

“I mean, I wanted to set us both free—”

“Well, that’s just fucking great, you tosser,” I snapped. I jumped up and grabbed my gym bag. “You wanna start another drama by fucking my sister up? I thought you were different from those other wankers. I should’ve known you’re just a—”

“I love Katie, okay?” Cook yelled. “Fock’s sakes.”

I just stood there.

“I love her,” Cook went on. “An’ it sucks that she isn’t here an’ I can’t just pull her into my arms when I want to. An’ I said I thought of breaking up with her, Emily. Wanted to set us both free, didn’t I?”

I sat down again.

Cook sighed dismally. “I thought it was the right thing to do,” he said. His voice was low now. “I couldn’t handle the thought of Katie calling an’ telling me that she had met someone else. Or worse, finding out through the focking grapevine.”

Silence. I watched as an ant make away with a bread crumb. “It’s that hard?”

“It is,” he answered truthfully. “Although, whenever I hear her sweet voice on the phone or see her smiling sweetly at me on Skype, it makes everything feel a li’l lighter. It gives sense to what we were tryin’ to do.” His lip curled up into a sad smile. “But that doesn’t erase the fact that she’s not here, yea? An’ it’s just fockin’ difficult, y’know.”

My eyes held his. “Cook—” I tried to look for soothing words, but couldn’t get out a single one.

I saw a wretched flicker of light dawn in his eyes, then he shrugged self-consciously. “No one else could understand what it feels like to be far away from her—to have no bloody control over the situation, y’know what I mean?”

Suddenly, Cook got very busy eating again. Perhaps he wanted to act busy so that he wouldn’t have to look at me.

For once, I was beyond words. Compassion was what I felt. I wanted to tell him I could actually empathise with him but I chose to stay silent.

I hugged my knees to my chin and circled my arms around them. I could totally understand how Cook felt. What if it were Naomi who had met someone else back at her uni and trashed our would-be six-month relationship in one night? I bet there were tons of husky-voiced women or flowery-mouthed men there. And even if I wanted to keep a choke hold on her, I couldn’t keep tabs on her 24/7.

Everyone I knew seemed to see Naomi as an extension of my being. Even Sarah, who’d just met us, thought we were bizarrely inseparable. Even Katie, who used to be against Naomi, laughed at the idea that the blonde might leave me. But it really didn’t matter that all my friends and my sister thought she was perfect for me. Or even that I thought Naomi was great and wonderful and amazing. None of that changed the fact that we were about to part ways in just a few weeks.

“Cook, can I ask you a question?”

“Go on. As long as it’s not about Japanese verb conjugations.”

I let out a chuckle first before taking the plunge. “Why are you such a prick sometimes?”

He snorted. “You mean, most of the time.”

“Yea. I mean . . . why do you bollock people? Your mouth is dead full of shite, you know.”

“I’m just joking around. People take everything so seriously all the time. They need to lighten up, yea?”

“I know. But sometimes it hurts someone’s feelings, you know. And if you see that—”

“Eejit!” Cook barked.

I was taken aback. “Excuse me?”

“That’s what my dad call me. His pet name for me,” he filled in. “Also, gutless piece of dog turd. An’ ree-tard.”

“That’s just . . . horrible,” I said.

Cook shrugged. “What’s the biggie? It’s just fockin’ words.”

“Words can hurt a lot, Cook,” I insisted.

“Loads of things hurt, Emilio, if you let ‘em,” Cook said. “Da’ never used me or my ma for a punching bag, like my mate’s ol’ man used to do. My dad works two jobs to pay the bills. An’ he comes to every single one of my football games. He’s there for me. So what’s a few names? I figure. Nothin'.”

I stared into the distance, seeing nothing. My mum loves me and calls me sweetie or darling, I thought. But she never accepted my sexuality. Until now she hasn’t. And it’s hard because I wanted for her to really meet Naomi.  I wanted to let her know how wonderful is my girlfriend, how she makes me happy, how much I love her. I wanted to be able to include her in that part of my life. But she won’t let me.

“My mum would never call me names, but when I needed her, she wasn’t there,” I confessed over a lump of throat. “And it just sucks because I really wanted for her to be there and share that important part of my life with me.”

“Everyone has their story,” Cook said, philosophically. “That’s the way it is.”

“That’s the way it is,” I echoed. I picked up the box of chocolates and held them out to him. “Chocolate seashells?”

“I love chocolate,” Cook groaned, “but I swear the shit gives me bloody zits the size of a focking grape and then—”

“C’mon,” I urged. “Just take a piece.”

He ate two.

“Oh, God. I swear Class 1B has the most awful teachers,” I blurted out when we reached the HaDai Break office. “Why, Zoe? Why? And now we have to do this stupid play for the theatre festival.”

Zoe chuckled then looked at me. “Don’t worry, we can pull this off.”

I leant against the wall. “Where are our group mates, anyway?” Our class was divided into several groups and I was grouped with Zoe, Stefan, and Alma, a curly-haired Mexican girl. We had been forced by Sugiyama Sensei to present a short ‘socially relevant’ play for the end-of-semester Engekisai or theatre festival.

“Stefan has to tutor German to some Japanese students,” Zoe filled in. “And Alma’s being interviewed by this local Kyoto magazine. About guacamole or something.”

“Okay,” I said. “So . . . it’s just the two of us?”

Zoe nodded. “Anyway, I had a lot of free time yesterday,” she said, going over to a desk and taking out a manila folder with some bond paper in it. “So I took the liberty of writing our play.”

“Wow,” was all I could say.

“Well, I’m not so sure about some scenes so I need your opinion.” Zoe sat on the office couch and glanced over at me, like why didn’t I join her on the couch, already?

I pretended not to get her unspoken signal and didn’t budge.

Zoe then rolled her eyes at me. “Come here, Emily,” she called. “Read it over first to yourself. There are only two characters in it. I’ll be playing Olivia.”

She held the pages out to me.

I took the pages but still didn’t join her on the couch. Quickly, I skimmed what Zoe had written. The characters were two girls named Victoria and Olivia and they were lovers. What the fuck? The whole town was against them. But they had each other blah-blah-blah. Then I came to the final stage direction:

Victoria takes Olivia into her arms and kisses her passionately.

I closed my eyes and opened them again, hoping the directions would magically change to something like:

Victoria takes Olivia’s hand and shakes it warmly.

Still there. Bollocking hell.

“So what do you think?” Zoe asked. “Is it any good? On first reading, I mean.”

“Interesting,” I said, as sweat popped out on my forehead. “So this is supposed to be a romantic skit set in Shakespeare’s time?”

Zoe nodded. “Yep.”

I loosened the collar of my top. The room was suddenly becoming so hot. “I’m not into this acting stuff, whatever, but I think you need to change – erm – you know, work on it some more before—”

“I’ve already worked on it a lot,” she said. “Really, Em, with dialogue there’s only so much you can do until you actually hear it and see it acted out.”

“We could make it, you know, between a boy and a girl,” I suggested. “Let Stefan play Victorio or something.”

“And what? Stick to rotten tradition? Dare to be different, Emily.”

“Well, personally, I don’t think the kissing scene is necessary. And we don’t know if Sugiyama Sensei will allow that—”

“Dare to defy, Little Emily,” said Zoe. “This is also to raise awareness, don’t you think? People need to know about this stuff. Japanese people, especially.”

I bit my lip. “Okay. I think you’ve made your honourable point,” I told her with an empty smile. “So you’re Olivia, yea?”

“Yep.”

“So – uh – have you told Alma that she’s gonna be playing Victoria?” I asked coolly, pushing a slightly-trembling hand through my hair.

“No, Emily. You will be playing Victoria,” Zoe declared with firmness in her tone.

My mouth dropped in protest. “Have you gone mad?” I gasped, my eyes wide. “Naomi will be there watching. Do you want to die?”

But Zoe only straightened up and folded her arms. “I’ll take my chances.”

“No. You do not get it, Zoe,” I said soberly. “She will fucking kill us. Kill me, above all.”

“You’re a pussy.”

I shook my head in utter refusal. “No. Sorry, Zo, but I won’t do this. I mean, I can’t do this.”

“You’re a pussy.”

I eyed the window. It was a choice between a four-story drop or a passionate kiss with Zoe Hammond.

“Fine,” I said, half-heartedly. “I’ll do it.”

“Well, that didn’t take much persuasion,” Zoe said with a smug smirk, reaching for a folder on a desk. “So can we go to work now?”

“Wh-what?” I stammered.

“Let’s rehearse some of the scenes. See if they work.” She smiled at me, handing me my copy. “I’ve got a copy, too.”

“Great,” I muttered. “Just great.” I scanned it, as I walked to the doorway, putting as much distance as I could between Zoe and myself.

“What are you going over there for?”

“To . . . enter,” I invented. “You know. Make an entrance.”

“But the scene starts with Olivia and Victoria already together and already in love,” Zoe pointed out.

“Is that really how you picture it?” I lolled against the wall, excruciatingly casual.

Zoe shrugged. “They’re in the middle of an emotional crisis. I really think they’d be close to each other. Physically.”

“Physically,” I echoed.

Zoe nodded. “Yes, Emily. That would make sense, right?”

I didn’t move.

“But you know, now that I think about it, it might be a good idea to start with space between them,” Zoe mused thoughtfully. “My former acting coach called it playing the opposites—you know, like how distance can add to intimacy.”

“Totes,” I agreed. “See, that’s what I was saying. It’s so much more intimate if I’m way over here. You know like in Frigo the Flying Penguin when Frigo was held captive in that island and you were oceans apart and, you know, you just kind of feel that invisible cord that draws you to—”

“Emily,” Zoe interrupted. “You’re getting locked-on again.”

I smiled sheepishly. “Okay. Sorry. I just love that film.”

Zoe looked down at her script. I waited. And waited. And waited. Maybe she was getting into character or something. Hopefully, it would take her a really long time.

“Emily? You have the first line,” Zoe pointed out.

“Right!”

“Ryoshin wa watashi wo rikaisuru tsumori wa nai, Olivia-chan (My parents just won’t understand me, Olivia),” I read, my voice still a monotone after a bunch of lines. “Watashi ga nozomukoto wa, tada anata to isshouni iru koto da (You know all I want is to stay in your arms).”

“Sonna koto wakatteru, Victoria-chan (I know that, Victoria),” Zoe said as Olivia, her voice full of emotion. “Dakedo, watashi-tachi wa nani ga dekiru darouka (But what are we to do)? Zensekai wa watashi-tachi no teki da (The whole world is against us).” She stepped closer to me.

“Olivia-chan,” I intoned, taking a step back. “Anata ga inakereba (Without you)—” I couldn’t stop the snort of laughter from coming out, “Anata ga inakereba watashi wa ikirarenai (Without you, I cannot live). Watashi ni totte, anata no ai ga dore hodo imi arumonoka wakaranaino (Don’t you know how much your love means to me)—?”

“Cut, cut,” Zoe called, tossing her script on the couch. “It’s crap. It’s shit. It’s crappy shit.”

“No, it’s not,” I insisted, and now my voice had all the emotion it had lacked during the scene. “Really, it’s good. A little corny and mushy, but good corn and good mush.”

“Oh, please, Emily,” Zoe snapped.

Guilt washed over me. I had wrecked the scene, and I knew it. And I’d done it just so I wouldn’t have to kiss her.

“Zo, I’m sorry,” I said, meaning it.

“Okay, fine. I get it,” She spun on her heel, strode over to a computer, and wordlessly clicked the mouse until she came to the word-processing document that held the Olivia/Victoria scene.

I wandered over, not knowing what else to do, to look over her shoulder.

“Look, Zoe—”

“Oh, Emily, don’t try to act all lovely. I know you hated it,” Zoe’s tone was seething with sarcasm. “It’s obviously a problem in the writing.”

“But—”

“A problem that can be fixed.” She scrolled down to the beginning of the scene. “You can just tell me straight if you think it sucks, you know. Or if you’re not up for it.”

“But—”

“No offence, Emily, but shut up,” she said. “Go read a book or call your girlfriend up or something.”

“Zoe, to be perfectly honest, I don’t think the problem was—”

Zoe spun around in her chair. “Look, if you don’t want to do this with me, fine. I’ll change the whole story, whatever. Just go.”

“Okay.” I backed away from her. Fine. Whatever. I had tried, hadn’t I? “I’m – uh – I’m just going to stay here and—”

“Bugger off if you’re not here to help,” she said a little harshly, her gaze fixed on the computer screen.

“I . . .” I came up with nothing. God, she was annoying. I turned slowly and headed for the door. My hand was already on the doorknob when I turned around.

Zoe was already at work at the computer, adding lines, deleting lines, and even mouthing them quietly to herself.

“You know, you don’t have to be an annoying cow,” I said after a long at-a-loss pause.

“And you don’t have to be a huge pain in the ass,” she sputtered. “Christ, you’re so hard to work with!”

I was gripping on the doorknob so hard, my knuckles were white. I was beyond pissed.

“I didn’t ask to be put in the same group as you,” I retorted.

“Point taken,” she said curtly. “Now would you mind getting the hell out of here so I can rewrite in peace?”

“Gladly,” I shot back. I swept from the room, slamming the door behind me.

I shifted my bag over to my other shoulder as I reached the 4^th floor landing. I’d hoped Naomi was busy doing something, but as luck would have it, she greeted me from the kitchen entryway.

“Okaeri (Welcome home), my love,” Naomi sang out, dropping a sweet kiss on my lips.

“Hey.” I shuffled into the kitchen and collapsed into a chair.

“I made dinner,” Naomi said.

Cooperating, I sniffed the air. “Smells great.”

With one brow cocked, she tipped a finger under my chin. “What?”

“What, what?”

“You’re upset.”

I scowled and pushed her hand away. “Christ, Naomi, that’s annoying. Don’t you know that I would like to think I have some mystery?” Still hoping to stall, I peeled out my cardigan and hung it on the back of my chair.

Naomi burst into laughter. “Emily Fitch, mysterious?” she said when she sobered. “You are the most transparent person on earth, babe. And that’s one of the many reasons that attracted me to you.”

“Piss off,” I said, frowning and leaning back in the chair.

“Seriously, though, what happened, babe? You look rat-shit.”

“We’ll talk about it later. I’m starving.”

“No. You’re going to tell me all about it now,” Naomi demanded. “What happened?”

I blew out a long breath. “Just a long day at the office.”

But something in my tone alerted her. She folded her arms and raised a brow. “Okay. Tell me who the bastard is and I’ll beat him up for you.”

“You mean ‘her’?” I muttered wearily.

Naomi’s brow arched higher. “Okay. Who is she?”

“Zoe.”

“I swear to God, I will cut that Kiwi!”

Her snarl made me sit up straight. “Nothing major really happened, okay?” I assured her quickly. “She was just upset and it’s been a long day for both of us, that’s all.” 

“Did she hurt you?”

“No,” I said, mindlessly fiddling with the heart pendant of my necklace. “We just had a little exchange of not-so-nice words. But nothing really massive.”

“Okay, if you say so.” Naomi took a seat in the chair next to me and lifted a hand to toy with my hair. “Ems, I was thinking—”

“Oh, bobbins. Oh, bobbins. You won’t believe this, girls.” JJ appeared in the doorway, breathless and looking all frenzied.

“What is it, JJ?” Naomi asked, a little alarmed.

He then grinned widely. “I saw Freddie and Effy in the lounge all giggly and cuddly,” he filled in, still over-excited. “Like all smiles, you know. A bit unusual but a really sweet sight.”

“That’s nice,” I said, genuinely happy for the two. Good thing, Effy woke up.

“Yes, it is very nice,” JJ agreed, nodding his head. “Anyway, I gotta go. Lara’s waiting on Skype.”

“Wow,” Naomi said, as soon as JJ disappeared.

“Yea, wow,” I said. “It’s great news, but don’t you think it’s a little too late, Naomes?” I asked solemnly. “I mean, there’s not so much time left.”

“Uh-huh. What’s your point?”

“In a few weeks they’d be miles apart, Naomi,” I pointed out. “What’s going to happen to them?”

“Time and distance is not an issue for two people truly in love with each other,” Naomi answered simply.

“You’re right,” I agreed, smiling faintly. “What was that you were supposed to say?”

“I want us to get away for a few days,” she said.

“Away?”

“From Kyoto. We could stay for a week somewhere before we leave,” she filled in. “Okinawa, Yokohama, Tokyo. Wherever you like.” She smiled sweetly. “Just the two of us.”

“I’d like that,” I said, smiling back.

Naomi rested her head on my shoulder. “I could make you Mojitos and we’ll just drink while we lie on the beach, slow dance, and make love all day and all night,” she went on softly. “Do whatever you like.”

My smile bloomed. “Yea, I’d really love that, babe. We should do it.”

She held up her pinky finger. “You promise?”

I hooked it with mine. “I promise.”

Every strobe light flash was like a pin to my eye as I continued dancing on Blackout’s dance floor. I was a little tipsy, a little giggly, swaying to the blasting trance beats.

I felt hands circle around my waist. I let her hands run up and down my body and it felt so good my eyes involuntarily fluttered closed. She nuzzled her face into my neck as we swayed our fused bodies to the music. When I opened my eyes, I saw that the hair was dark. Choking, I whirled around.

Zoe.

She pulled me closer to her and I stiffened almost immediately. The thick crowd was pressing us together and I looked around for an escape but found none. Then she put her mouth next to my ear and whispered a knee-weakening “You’re so hot.” Then she drew back, looked at me with ravenous eyes, licked her lips and leant over. My hands were ready to shove her away.

But someone made her turn around. It was Effy who tapped her on the shoulder. Her eyes were hard. Sarah was with her, too, looking at Zoe with a negative shake of her head.

Effy then took my arm. “I believe this girl’s girlfriend has arrived,” she said to Zoe. “You might want to back off a bit, Zoe.”

Still a little shocked by the previous incident, I threaded my way across the dance floor and was greeted by Naomi.

“Emily? Is everything all right?” she asked, studying my face worriedly.

“We’ll talk about it later,” I said. “I need a drink.”

She merely shifted and blocked my path. “C’mon. Out with it.”

I could argue, but since an argument is precisely what I was hoping to avoid, what was the point?

“Will you promise not to overreact?”

“Sure.” She smiled at me as she swung an arm around my shoulders and led me down the stairs. We sat together at the bar and Naomi ordered us drinks. “Does it have anything to do with a certain Olympic swimmer?”

“She sort of ambushed me on the dance floor.”

“Ambushed?”

Her icy tone alerted me. “Just a figure of speech,” I quickly replied. When Naomi said nothing, I let the rest tumble out. “But, you know, she was just feeling a little hot, that’s all. She was also a bit drunk, I think.”

There was a dangerous light in Naomi’s eyes. “Did she put her hands on you?”

I shrugged, hoping to lighten the mood. “In a manner of speaking. It was really just one of those I’m-wrecked-and-in-dire-need-of-comfort sort of things. She tried for a snog but, good thing, Effy was there,” I added quickly. “And Sarah. So it was nothing. It was really nothing.”

“She put her hands on you,” Naomi repeated. “And she tried to kiss you?”

“I don’t know that I’d call it a kiss. It was just—Naomi!” She was already up, smoothing down the skirt of her dress. “Naomi, fuck’s sake, you said you’d be reasonable.”

She shot me one look, one stunningly frigid look that had my heart stopping. “I lied.”

My knees were knocking together, but I was on her heels as she made her way to the stairs.

“Naomi, please,” I called after her. “Stop this. Right now! What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to explain why Hammond should keep her hands off my girl.”

“Naomi, please.” I raced toward the dance floor after her.

I tugged her elbow. “She’s not worth it,” I said for the hundredth time. “She’s just not worth your making a scene.”

“I have no intention of making a scene,” Naomi said. “I’m just going to talk to her, and she’s going to listen.”

I saw her eyes slit like a predator’s as we neared the corner table where Zoe was seated. My stomach clenched and I had one wild thought: to jump between them.

But Naomi didn’t lunge, as I’d been half terrified she would. She simply stood in front of her.

Zoe rolled her eyes. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered.

Naomi stood directly in front of her and fixed her a look. “What is it now, Hammond? Aren’t you tired of being a creep?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Zoe said, smirking.

“Oh, you know very well,” Naomi sputtered. “Don’t pretend you weren’t trying to grab each opportunity to jump my girlfriend whenever you can.”

“Well, you shouldn’t leave her lying around.” Zoe’s lip curled in a nasty smirk.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m just sayin’.”

Naomi's jaw set hard. “If you ever put your hands on her again,” she threatened, “I swear to God, I will bury you, in every way you can imagine.”

Zoe’s eyes slid to me. “Seemed like she liked my hands, though,” she said. “Didn’t you, Emily?”

Naomi thumped a hand on the table, making Natalia and Alma gasp and jerk in their seats.

But Zoe remained unflustered. Her smile was easy, though her eyes held wickedness. It made me worry a bit.

“Don’t. Come. Near. Her. Again,” Naomi said, putting force on each word. “Are we clear, Zoe?”

“Let’s just go, Naomi,” I implored, tugging her arm. “I told you this is a waste of time.”

When we got back to the bar, Naomi allowed herself a long, calming breath.

“That fucking Zoe Hammond better stay away from me or I swear . . .”

I lifted a hand to soothe the tension in Naomi’s shoulders. “Naomi, that’s enough, okay?” I said. “I don’t want you doing anything stupid.”

“I wasn’t doing anything stupid, Em,” she said. “It was for a reason. She was hassling you. Chrissakes.”

Little tangle of nerves formed in my stomach as Naomi sipped her drink. She still seemed to be fuming inside.

“Well, this has been quite a night,” Sarah said, as she bounded over a stool.

With a cigarette smouldering between her fingers, Effy spoke. “Trust me, Sarah, this night is far from over.”

“I wonder what’s taking Naomi and Effy so long,” I said, as Sarah and I made our way toward the restroom.

“Did you see Cook and Ben almost punching each other’s faces for the umpteenth time?” Sarah said, opening the door to the bathroom. “God, those two should not be—”

Inside we saw Naomi struck out, her open palm cracking Zoe’s flushed cheek.

“—Oh, my God!” Sarah stopped in the doorway, one hand covering her gaping mouth. In an instant all movement froze.

I stood, staring. What the fuck just happened?

Still smirking, Zoe put her hand on her reddened cheek, then she straightened her dress.

Dazed, Naomi stared down at her hand, which was still burning from the blow it had delivered.

I dashed toward the two girls, putting myself between them. “What is going on—?”

“Stay out of this, Emily.” Teeth clenched, Naomi took a menacing step toward Zoe. “And you better fuck off.”

“If you'll excuse me, chicas.” With a triumphant smirk, Zoe picked up her purse then walked composedly out of the room.

“Wow,” Sarah said, as the door swung shut behind Zoe. “I didn’t know there was so much more action in the ladies’ restroom than on the dance floor. Are you okay, Naomi?”

“Yea,” Naomi said. “Just a li'l scratch. And I'm fucking wet.” She looked at her reflection in the mirror and muttered, “That Kiwi bitch.”

Effy moved forward briskly to run cold water on a snowy washcloth. “Clean yourself up,” she told Naomi.

“I’m sorry, Em,” Naomi said, her hand still trembling. “I lost my temper.” 

I caught sight of the blonde in the mirror. Her blue eyes were smouldering. And strangely, I felt these surges of intense sensations taking over my body. I didn’t know what happened seconds ago but the two girls obviously had a bit of a scuffle. And Naomi’s navy blue mini-dress ended up a little soaked.

“Nice move, Naomi.” Effy handed her a damp cloth, now smirking proudly. “That was a killer round between Miss Phelps and Miss Peroxide.”

I picked up a dry, fluffy towel and offered it to the blonde. “Here,” I managed to say.

Then I moved to the sink. This is all I need right now, I thought grimly, rubbing the bathroom mirror to clear the condensation away. My mind and body were both still swirling with emotions and waves of sensations and I couldn’t breathe. What Naomi did was really . . . hot. That was all I could think of. And I love her now more than ever.

And Zoe . . . I knew I had to deal with her once and for all.

I stared at my own reflection as I gripped the sides of the sink. I dug a lipstick out of my purse.

Naomi came up behind me. “Emily, let’s go.”

“I just need a minute. You guys go ahead,” I said, aggravation noticeable in my tone. “I need a retouch.” I twirled up a spiral of red lipstick.

“Emily, whatever she did, it’s just between me and Zoe, okay?” Naomi said, rubbing the tension from my shoulders. “We will settle this. Just the two of us. You just stay out of this, okay, babe?”

I nodded noncommittally. She kissed my cheek and left the restroom with Sarah and Effy.

I slapped the lid on the lipstick. I needed to protect her. I needed to stand on my own. The one thing I could do was track down Zoe in this club and have a nice, long . . . chat.

I easily found Zoe who was sitting at a corner table with some people. I marched toward her.

“Keep Naomi out of this, Zoe,” I said. “If you hate me, then just hate me. Don’t involve other people.”

Zoe’s brows furrowed. “What makes you think I hate you?”

“You’re being a fucking prick all the time,” I said.

She smirked. “Glad I caught your attention.”

Tension crept back like a thief. “I’m not doing anything to you, Zoe. What is your problem?”

“That’s the thing. You are not doing anything.”

I was getting frustrated already. “What the fuck do you want me to do?”

Zoe bit her lip, her face turning serious. Her flushed cheek was a proof of earlier’s Clash of the Titans. “Look, I’m sorry, okay?” she said. “I know I deserve that slap.”

“Obviously,” I said curtly. “Naomi would never behave like that if you did not provoke her.” Still angered, I spun on my heel. “Have a nice life, Zoe,” I sputtered without looking at her.

“Emily, hey—” Zoe called, but I ignored her. I hurried across the dance floor.

Zoe blocked my path. “Emily, I will apologise to her, okay?” she said, her eyes intense.

But I maneouvered around her.

“Emily.” Zoe caught my arm, and turned me to her. “I will apologise to Naomi, I promise. What else do you want me to do?”

I looked at her then, my eyes hard. “I want you to stay out of my way.”

“We’re going to have to reheat dinner,” Naomi said as she guided me into a cab. “I can make you some cream of potato soup as well.”

“You hit her.” Once I was seated, strapped in, I pressed both hands to my mouth.

Naomi’s bitchy mood had passed. She almost felt sunny as the car drove fast through the windswept night. “Not exactly, you know, my style, but she started it.”

I turned my head away. I couldn’t explain, couldn’t believe what I was feeling. The way Naomi had sliced Zoe with words. Sharp and cold like a samurai sword. Then she slapped her. She moved so fast, so stunningly. Damn. She’s really so fucking hot when provoked and possessive. Especially, possessive. I pressed a hand to my stomach and bit back a little moan. So this was what I’ve been really feeling.

“Tomete kudasai (Pull over, please),” I said to the cab driver in a muffled voice. “Right now.”

The cab driver did.

“Take it easy, Em,” Naomi said, studying my face. “I’m so sorry you had to see that, but—”

Whatever else the blonde intended to say was lost as I lunged at her. In one fluid move, I tore off my seat belt and whipped toward her, my mouth hot and wet and hungry. She was shocked.

Cars sped by us. Seeing the backseat action heating up, the cab driver awkwardly left the car to go inside a convenience store. Naomi could only moan as I dived deeper into her mouth, my tongue greedy, my teeth vicious. The hot, intense, and heavy kissing in the backseat lasted for quite a while.

Both of us were panting for air when I leant back.

“Well,” she managed, but I could see her mind was wiped clean as well. “Well.”

“I’m not proud of it.” I flopped back in my seat, face flushed, eyes bright. “I don’t approve of intimidation or fighting. I absolutely don’t. Oh, Jesus.” With a half laugh, I squeezed my eyes shut. That was just so hot, what you did, I wanted to blurt out to her. My body was vibrating with extreme heat already. Intellect, I discovered, could be completely overpowered by glands. “I’m going to explode, Naomes. Call the driver now, will you?”

“All right.” Swiftly Naomi punched on the car honk, with a grin. The cab driver came dashing through the store doors and quickly climbed into the car. He shifted his gear to drive and stepped on the accelerator.

Naomi’s grin became a sexy laugh. “Emily, I’m crazy about you.”

I had to curl my fingers into fists to keep myself from tearing at her clothes. “We’re both crazy,” I decided. Then I tapped the driver’s shoulder. “Drive faster, please.”

“Doumo (Thank you),” I told the librarian who received the last couple of books I had borrowed for my research paper. I was just glad I was done with it and my professor, at least, gave me a decent grade for it. I’m just going to deal with my other uni issues once I get back. I whirled around and found Zoe standing there.

“Emily,” she said, taking a tentative step toward me.

I gave a start of alarm. “Oh.” The alarm turned to annoyance. “It’s you. What are you doing, practicing your stalking skills?”

“Apologising skills,” she said contritely.

I was quiet for a moment. Zoe had been constantly ringing me for a few days now and I would always reject her call. She had tried to strike up a conversation with me a number of times too but I was very good with the sidestepping. Now, the girl had ambushed me yet again but this time I was unable to find an escape.

My mouth turned down at the corners. “You tried your apologising skills already,” I said. “You got an F as in Forget it.”

“If at first you don’t succeed . . . ?” she said meekly.

“You succeeded,” I said flatly. “In making sure I knew exactly how you really felt.”

“’Cept I didn’t,” Zoe protested. “I succeeded in making myself look like a nasty bitch.”

“No argument there.” I pressed my lips together.

Zoe only shook her head and chuckled in amusement.

The librarian cleared her throat. Zoe rolled her eyes at her.

“C’mon,” Zoe said, tugging my wrist. “Let’s sit down and talk outside.”

Zoe and I settled on a bench just outside the library. Dry leaves were being blown across the brick floor.

“Why do you hate me so much, Zoe?” I asked quietly, still watching a leaf skitter on the ground.

“I don’t hate you, I swear.” She drew a breath then let it out slowly. “I tried the nice girl approach, the caring girl approach, the ‘I’m your biggest fan; I’ll follow you until you love me’ approach,” she said, and it made me chuckle, “and they all didn’t work on you.” She smiled faintly, dimples coming to her cheeks.

“So being a despicable cow will get my attention?”

“It worked,” she said simply.

I let out a hoarse chuckle. “You just love the feeling, don’t you, Zo?” I said. “Vying for something. You just enjoy it.”

“Well, it wasn’t all about competition, Emily,” Zoe blurted out. “I honestly think you are cute and rather nice. And if you were single, I would definitely, without doubt, shamelessly flirt with you. Do everything to make you want me back.”

Smiling at her little confession, I shook my head disbelievingly.

“Am I still unforgiven?” she asked. And her candid question made me burst into laughter.

“Well, no one would want to leave Kyoto with a heavy heart, yea?” I said.

Biting her lip and smiling, Zoe nodded. “Yea,” she agreed. Then she looked at me more intently. “You’re just unattainable, aren’t you, Emily Fitch?”

“There are just some things that are, Zoe,” I said. “And I’m sorry you had to find this one out from me.”

“Oh, well,” she said, shrugging. “There’s always a first time for everything, right?”

I smiled smugly. “I’m honoured to become your first failed mission,” I quipped. “Your biggest mistake was that you went after a passion-drugged woman.”

“Yea, yea, whatever,” she said, smirking at the ground. Then she faced me again with a sober look and spoke with a serious tone. “So how would I know if that’s the final answer?”

“You’d know by looking into my eyes,” I said.

Zoe searched mine. She smiled. “You’re right. Passion-drugged.”

I took her hand, gave it a gentle squeeze, and then let go.

“I know.”

Naomi and I gazed at each other across the table. Neither could concentrate. It was the last Ikebana class for the semester and we had to work on a single ikebana creation as a group. I picked up a stem of silk lotus and sniffed it, my eyes not leaving the blonde’s face.

Naomi blushed to beet red, but her gaze didn’t waver. I licked my suddenly dry lips, and tried to focus on our work. I wanted to kiss her. But I wouldn’t, not here, not now.

Peripherally, I saw Naomi pick up a stem from the table top, then tapped it idly. She was biting her bottom lip, feigning absorption in the ikebana creation on our table. And her hands. Jesus. Her hands. I wiped my forehead with the back of my arm. The room temperature rose abruptly.

Then suddenly she was standing right behind me. Her fingers, long and clever, slipped under my top.

“No,” I gasped quietly and pushed her off.

Naomi reached for me again. I slapped at her hands. “Baaabe!” I hissed.

“Emily, I just—”

I laughed. “Not here. Have you gone mad?” There were thirty people around us, including Kieran who was already looking a tiny bit aware of the passionate couple.

She grinned at me, a wide, wicked smile. She put her hands on my hips and pulled me tightly to her. Her breath hot in my ear, she whispered, “Nobody’s going to notice, Em. Nobody’ll care.”

I looked around furtively. Everyone seemed to be focused with their work. But I didn’t want to risk it. This can wait, I decided.

I regarded her, shaking my head 'no'. She frowned.

Grudgingly, Naomi moved back to her side of the table and continued working on our pot.

I felt someone clapping my back. “I love this whole concept, Miss Fitch and company,” Kieran said, studying our piece. “The way it branches out like eternity. Well done.” His clapping was so hard that my hairpin fell down to the floor.

I picked the hairpin up and stuck it between my teeth. Then I reached behind my hair and jabbed it back into my messy topknot.

I smirked inwardly at the flare of heat in the blonde’s eyes, and turned around to call Kieran. “Sir, can I go to the bathroom?”

Kieran waved me away. “Oh, for the love of God, go!”

I walked off, my narrow hips swinging with slow ostentation. I looked back over my shoulder at the blonde and had that smug smirk.

I was walking down the hallway when a hand suddenly grabbed hold of my elbow and yanked me into a room. We were too hot to reach the restroom which was over at the other end of the hallway.

“Fucking tease,” Naomi said.

As soon as we were inside the deserted room, Naomi moved her hands down my back, slowly, caressingly, to my hips. She pulled me against her, and I nearly gasped aloud at the feel of her. Tentatively I moved, twisting, stroking her with my body, just to see what would happen.

She jerked slightly, pushing herself harder against me in response.

I wasn’t sure how I ended up backed against the teacher’s desk, but I was there. And Naomi was leaning over me, pressing me backward, her mouth never leaving mine, her hands moving over me as if she couldn’t get enough, as if she wanted to touch me everywhere at once. The idea of being the one who made her feel that way thrilled me, and a delicious shudder rippled through me. She seemed to feel it, because she lifted her head, looking at me.

Right here, right now . . .

Right here, on a teacher’s desk. Right now, in the middle of a school day.

“Christ, Em,” Naomi muttered. “Why do you have to be so fucking irresistible?”

I let out a moan. Naomi pushed me back to lie on the desk, and I didn’t even notice the edge of a calendar digging into my back. Not when Naomi stepped between my knees and began to tug at the buttons of my blouse. In moments I was stripped of my top, and I could feel the cool breath of the air-conditioning over my skin. I thought of how her mouth would feel, hot and wet and delicious compared to that coolness.

Naomi moved swiftly, one hand curving on my nape, the other digging into my thigh, whilst her head traveled hungrily around my bare skin – neck, chest, stomach – kissing and suckling deep and hard. My body rippled under the wave of rich, hot sensation.  

My phone rang.

Naomi swore. I whimpered. Fuck’s sake.

It rang again.

Naomi straightened up. I whimpered.

The third ring.

With a whimper I smothered this time, I sat up and took my phone out of my pocket. I flipped open my phone and answered.

“Emily.”

I tried to focus. “Mum?”

“Hey, sweetie.”

“Mum, I’m in the middle of a class,” I said, tugging my top closed whilst still fighting the glorious fog Naomi had put me in. “This better be important.”

“I’m sorry, dear, but we were just too excited to tell you.” Mum’s tone was definitely full of excitement. This should be good.

“Tell me what?”

“We already bought you a ticket. Your flight schedule is this Sunday.”

That got my attention. “What?”

“Your dad wanted you to be there at the opening of our new gym. And we thought—”

“But, Mum—”

“No buts, Emily,” she said firmly. “You will be there.”

My gaze cut to Naomi’s. She was looking rather intrigued. “But—”

“We emailed you the ticket. Just print it out, okay, missy?” she said with finality. “We cannot wait to see you here.”

I shut my phone closed, slid to my feet and walked around the desk, feeling myself flush as I realised how close I’d come to having what I could only call wild sex atop a teacher’s desk.

I shook my head sharply to clear the last haze. Naomi was watching, still clearly aroused, still breathing hard and fast. And when my mind cleared out, this unbearable sinking feeling took over me. I’ll be leaving very soon.

I sank down in the chair and only stared down at the desk.

“Not a happy phone call, I’m guessin’,” Naomi said, her voice still showing a trace of the earlier sexy huskiness.

I didn’t answer.

“Babe?” Naomi called softly. “Is everything all right?”

“Mum already got me a ticket,” I forced the words out of my mouth.

Naomi moved to sit on the table in front on me, leaving less than a foot of space between us. “When do you fly?” she asked quietly.

It was a whisper, barely audible. “In six days.”

“In what?” Naomi asked, her voice trembling.

“In six days,” I repeated and broke on a sob. I knew it was too soon to cry. Tears should be held in reserve. They flooded out anyway.

I lifted my head. Naomi’s eyes were on me, red, ready too for tears.

“But you said—” she choked, then tried again. “But you promised we’d . . .” she wavered.

I leant forward in the chair, folded my arms on Naomi’s lap and rested my head, tears streaming silently. Naomi gently stroked my hair with her hand. Her familiar warmth and tenderness made me burst into terrible sobs.

“Ems,” I heard her say feebly. Then she began crying too.

“You should get some sleep, babe,” Naomi said on the other end of the line.

“Talk to me,” I said.

“You know I could be over to your room in less than fifteen seconds.”

A soft chuckle escaped my mouth. “But we’d never get some sleep,” I said. “You can’t keep your hands off me.”

“You figjam, you can’t keep your lips off me.”

It felt glorious, snuggling under the covers, pleasantly sleepy, with the voice of the person I love in my ear. My eyes drifted closed at the sound of her soft chuckles. I let out a yawn.

“Em? You still there?”

“Uhm-hmm.”

“I don’t think I can take it.”

“Take what?”

“The thought of seeing you leave.”

Her distressed tone made my heart sink. I heard her soft breathing, the rustling of her sheets, and thought about how I would probably be missing her, needing her every second of every day back home. Even simply this moment when she’s a few rooms away from me and she isn’t in my arms, it’s just . . . tough. God, it is killing me.

“The thought of me leaving you is worse,” I said, after a while.

“It will be so hard, won’t it?”

“Yes, it will,” I said. “But now is too early to talk about goodbyes, Naomes.”

“You’re right.” I heard her sigh.

Silence.

It was me who broke it this time. “Naomi?”

“Hmmm?”

I could tell she was nearly asleep. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Em,” she breathed. “Sweet dreams.”

Warm and content, I replaced the receiver, then gazed at the window. I toyed with the necklace Naomi gave me. It was our promise of love.

I believed in keeping promises.

I glanced at my clock. Damn. Time is ticking, indeed. But I needed some decent sleep if I wanted to be able to march across the stage and get my diploma in 12 hours. I needed the energy for the impending weep-athon as well.

I snuggled deeper under the covers.

Only seconds after I switched off the lamp, the phone rang again. Chuckling to myself, I lifted the receiver in the dark.

“Hey, babe,” I murmured. “Did you forget something?”

There was only echoing silence in response.

“Naomes?” My sleepy voice shifted into puzzlement. “Hello? Who’s there?” Then into annoyance as the dull silence continued. “Hey, you twat, it’s three in the morning. If you can’t sleep then, for Pete’s sake, let other people sleep.” The quiet click brought on a quick shudder.

Wrong number or drunken dormmates, I assured myself as I hung up. And it didn’t take long before I warmed up and fell into a deep slumber.

The mini garden of the dorm. It was still very much spring. Butterflies flitted around the blooming herbs and flowering ground cover of the rock garden. I could hear the sleepy droning of bees hovering around the salmon-coloured azalea that Yoshida-san planted. The sky was a clear, dazzling blue sky so perfect for dreams.

I sighed, beautifully content. There was music, all strings.

I was lying on that soft, blooming lawn. I lifted my arms to Naomi. The sun haloed around her hair, casting shadows over her face, deepening her eyes until they were so blue I might have drowned in them. And she was in my arms, her body warm and supple, her mouth soft and clever. I could feel my body tighten with need, my skin hum with it. We were moving together as graceful as dancers, with the blue bowl of the sky above us and the drone of bees throbbing like a pulse.

I heard my name, a whisper twining through the music of the dream. And I smiled and opened my eyes to look at her.

But it wasn’t Naomi. The room was so dark I couldn’t see her face. But it wasn’t Naomi. Even as my body recoiled, she said my name again. Fear gripped my throat.

“Hello, Emily. Missed me?”

I jerked up and screamed without thinking.

“Emily, calm down,” hissed the stranger, also climbing off the bed. “It’s me.”

The lampshade was then turned on. Instantly, my eyes widened and my jaw nearly dropped to the floor.