Halfway Valentine | Chapter XXI: Complete

Why can’t I think of what to say? I stared out of the tiny window, nibbled the pen.

Ten months ago, we hadn’t even met.

Ten months ago, I was a different person.

“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 dropped.

“What the fuck,” I gasped. “Halo?”

Halo only burst into laughter, doubling over.

I took my pillow and fired it at her. “You twat! For a second I thought you were going to sexually assault me!”

She held her stomach as she kept on laughing. I fired another pillow at her. God, I missed doing it.

“I missed you,” I said, and did a dramatic run, leap, and hug to Halo, who responded with an equally ardent embrace. “What are you doing back here?” I asked, fighting off laughter.

“Oh, my God, Emsy! You really thought I was going to jump on you?” she said when she sobered a bit. “Sit down, and all shall be explained.”

I sat on the edge of my bed. Halo opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by a worried blonde calling my name from outside. Halo rolled her eyes then let out a sigh. I could only grin up at her sheepishly.

Naomi bulleted into the room, looking alarmed. “Emily, are you all—what the fuck?” she exclaimed, eyes widening. “Halo?”

“Halo?” we heard some people gasp from the hallway, and then some running footsteps.

Halo shook her head and shot me a look. “Chrissakes, Ems. See?” she said. “This is exactly what I was hoping I could avoid. I came to your room because I thought it’d be more out of control if I pop in Panda’s. And now look at the scene you’ve caused!” She clicked her tongue and shook her head in feigned annoyance.

JJ appeared behind the blonde in the doorway. “Halo!” He turned on all the lights. I squinted my eyes at the sudden change of brightness in the room, and I instantly spotted Halo’s new hair—shorter, edgier and . . . purple?

“Heaven Lopez!” Ayami squealed, darting into my room and giving her a big hug. “You’re back! And your hair! It’s—”

“Yes, I had it dyed purple and cut really short,” Halo answered. “I was a little worried I might not be able to play with my hair now that it’s shorter. But then, what are wigs and hair extensions for, right?”

JJ walked inside. “Awesome,” he said, staring at Halo’s hair. “When did you arrive?”

“Just five hours ago. And I still have friggin’ jet lag so I’m a little unstable now,” replied Halo. “My stuff is in a hotel in Osaka. But I got here in the dorm only minutes ago. While I was on the train to Kyoto, I rang Em’s room just to check if—”

My eyes narrowed at her as awareness dawned. “You were that creepy caller?”

Halo laughed. “Yes, the ‘twat,’” she answered. “And you were so freaking hilarious, Emily! I was seriously trying to hold my laughter on the other end of the line. I wasn’t expecting that kind of outrage from you. I’m guessing Blondie of Oz inspired it in you, eh?”

Naomi smirked, then moved to join me on the bed. “What brings you back here?” she asked, picking Blue Poring up and fiddling with the pointed part of its head.

“There’s this really cool nail art convention in Tokyo this weekend that I was invited to. Plus you guys are gonna be graduating later, yea?” Halo replied enthusiastically. “I owe all of you some clapping and cheering. Whoo!”

“Seriously, this is so awesome, Halo!” JJ said, grinning. “You’re really back!”

“Only for a week though,” Halo said, frowning briefly. Then she grinned at all of us. “Now, enough with the freaking interrogation. Where to now?” She looked at us expectantly.

“It’s four in the morning, Heaven,” I said, yawning.

“Dude, what’s the use of our dear rooftop?” Halo said, taking my shoulders then shaking me awake. “Now, c’mon, you bunch of freaks, it’s time to par-ty!”

Music filled the rooftop deck but could not drown Panda’s giggles and squeals as she hugged Halo to death. The very-early-morning July breeze felt wonderful against my sleepy body.

Another shrill giggle from Panda made my eyes flutter open. Halo was showing Panda her nail art collection. A smile of amusement curved my mouth. It was nice to see Halo again even only for a while. It was nice to see Panda that happy again. We haven’t been spending much time together when I got so engaged to my research paper and Naomi was keeping me busy as well. Like she had been keeping me busy at this moment.

“Ems, about our trip,” Naomi began, softly brushing her lips against my temple. “It could be somewhere not so far away. I mean, given that we don’t have that much time . . .”

It felt glorious just sitting on the rooftop couch, melting against the blonde—with her behind me, her milky arms wrapped around me, and her soft breathing against my skin. It was almost six in the morning and the sky had started to show some signs of morning light.

“Yea. Perhaps in Tokyo?” I suggested, as I was absently toying with the bracelet I gave her. “We’ve never been there together.”

“Yea, Tokyo sounds perfect,” she agreed, dropping a soft kiss on my shoulder. She handed me the bottle of vodka.

I took a swig, then stretched out on the couch, resting my head on Naomi’s lap. “We could also go swimming?” I said, gazing up at her. “A daytrip somewhere with the gang . . .”

“That would be really nice,” Naomi said, slowly leaning over. In a few heartbeats, her lips were on mine, and I had one hand curved around her nape, keeping us close.

I was drowning in Naomi’s sweet kisses when Halo’s usual loud voice made us disengage.

“So nice to see you two oh-so happy together. For a second, I was worried I might have to—”

“Start a hunger strike?” Naomi filled in.

“Nope. I was worried I might have to—”

“Come back here to start your little operation again?” I filled in.

Halo snorted. “No. I was worried I might have to knock your heads together for you to finally wake up! Are you two insane? I am a believer of your love.” She pounded her fist to her heart dramatically.

Naomi and I only smiled at her, genuinely touched.

Halo spoke again. “But I don’t want any more of those ‘Oh my God, Halo! Naomi and Emsy are still together but the crappy part is Naomi’s being a bitch and Emsy’s always crying so they’re sort of wobbly!’ phone calls or I swear . . .” She regarded the two of us, now with a serious tone. “Will you two promise me that?”

Naomi and I glanced at each other then turned to Halo, flashing her another smile. “Promise.”

“What about you, Emily? What are your plans when you get back to Bristol?” Halo asked, as she went through my closet to borrow a dress for the HEP Graduation Ceremony.

I sat on the edge of my bed and ate Halo’s leftover pizza crusts, my favourite part of pizzas. It’s those little details about me that I think made me more seem like a weirdo than I really was—or like I was trying to be different. Not that I wanted to stand out to feel special—I just liked crusts. And I dyed my hair bright red because I just liked how it suited me.

“My best mate Cassie and I were talking about getting a summer job. In a bookstore, café, lingerie shop, Dad’s gym, wherever. Plus I need to take care of some uni stuff.”

“Sounds dead boring,” Panda mumbled through a hunk of pizza. “Me and Thommo would be taking a trip to Hawaii. Then he will take me to D.C. and introduce me to his parents. Isn’t that wick?” She giggled, all doe-eyed.

A bittersweet feeling took hold of me. I flashed her a brief, weak smile. I mean, I was happy for the Wonder Couple, but I just couldn’t bring that happiness to the surface. It was just that my situation with my girlfriend was different. If only things were that simple.

Halo stood in front of me, twisting my hair up into various silly up-dos that I would never feel comfortable wearing. “You should wear it like this later for the grad ceremony . . . you know, mix it up a little.” She held my hair in a complicated twist and with a requisite amount of messiness so that it wouldn’t look too done.

With her walking behind to keep the hair in place, we moved to the mirror so I could check out the style for myself. “Very elegant,” I said.

“But not too school prom-ish, more like ‘Thou cannot touch me pouty redhead’ cool, eh?” Halo added.

I was incredibly happy; Halo was here. I truly missed being with her and Panda, and just doing and talking about random, mostly stupid, things. I caught sight of Halo’s new hair again in the mirror and let out a snort. “I still can’t believe you dyed your hair purple.”

Halo stared at me through the mirror. “Tell me, Emily Fitch, is there anyone remotely comparable to a Heaven Lopez?”

I shook my head. “None. No one.”

Halo had that smug smirk. “That’s what I’m trying to say, Ems,” she said. “Says my mentor Coco Chanel, ‘In order to be irreplaceable, one must always be different.’”

Panda picked at her cuticles, then looked up at us. “See? That’s why I always dumb myself down whenever I’m with you, ’cos you two are mega brainy already.”

Halo and I burst out laughing too hysterically to manage a response. God, I missed this!

“Okay, enough with the verbal foreplay,” Panda said blithely. “Time for Gleeeeeee!”

“Naomes, come out of that closet now,” I called to the blonde. “What are you putting on, a corset?”

“I’m almost done,” she called back.

Sitting on Naomi’s bed, I checked my watch. “If you don’t get out here soon, the graduation ceremony will be over before we get there.”

“Okay, if I look like a slut, you have to promise to tell me the truth,” Naomi called.

“You look like a slut,” I called back.

Naomi laughed. “Watch it, or I’ll start a rumour that you’re gay.”

I smiled. At least I could smile about it now.

Sometimes, at least, when I was not in front of my mother.

Naomi pushed her closet door open. She was wearing a stunning, slim-fitting, body-hugging, glittery black backless mini-dress paired with black high heels. Her blonde hair cascaded beautifully down around her shoulders, elegantly messy. Her makeup made her look every inch of a classy vixen.

I stared at her open-mouthed.

“So?” Naomi said, doing a twirl. “How do I look?”

“You look—” I paused and tried to look for the perfect words. “You look like something I don’t want to be several thousand miles away from. Ever.”

The blonde smiled, inordinately pleased with my answer. “Aww, babe. I love your sweet-talkin’.”

“You look crazy beautiful, Naomi,” I said, still staring at her in amazement.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” Naomi said, sizing up my plum cutout mini-dress.

She sat next to me on the bed and toyed with a lock of my hair. “And I like what you did to your hair.”

“I got some help from a little wondergirl by the name of Halo,” I said, not taking my gaze off her face.

Naomi smiled so beautifully. “It’s good that crazy girl is back. I bet the GNG had another one of those . . .” She trailed off when she saw me still staring at her.

“Stop staring at me, Em,” she said, blushing a little.

“Why?”

“It’s very pervy.”

I continued staring at her. “Well, you’re very perve-able.”

“Ems, stop it. It’s creeping me out.”

But I was stubborn. “I want to kiss you now but I’m afraid I’ll ruin your makeup.”

When she saw the flare of heat in my eyes, Naomi giggled and reached for my cheek. “Well, I could always get a lippy repair, right?”

I only smiled at her, and she reached over to brush the hair off my face like what she’d always do.

“Now how ’bout that kiss?” she said, as she tipped up my chin.

Something I don’t want to be several thousand miles away from, indeed, I thought as I fell captive to the sweetness and gentleness of her kisses.

The HEP Graduation Ceremony was as stuffy and depressing as I had predicted it would be, despite the loud cheering and clapping inside the spacious convention hall.

I yawned, watching the rest of the students climb onto and off the stage. Naomi was chatting with JJ, Grunwald, Effy and Mandy next to the stage, waiting for JJ to take the stage.

“I guess ‘Congratulations’ is in order,” a familiar sweet voice broke into my boredom. My breath caught as soon as I recognised the owner of the voice.

I whirled around, my eyes wide in utter surprise. It was Misaki Ueno, looking gorgeous, as usual, in a silver slip dress. She wore her long, black sideswept hair in a soft and feminine way.

“Misaki!” I cried, genuinely surprised and happy. We hugged each other excitedly.

“When did you get back?” I asked, when I released her.

“Yesterday,” she replied.

“Wow,” I gasped, holding her at arm’s length. “You look amazing. I mean, still amazing.”

Misaki smiled rather coyly. “Thanks. You too, Emily-chan.” She fiddled with the purple flower that was attached to my dress. “You still look dazzling. Dazzlingly beautiful. Kawaranaine (You haven’t change) . . .”

I fought a blush. “Thanks,” I said, then smirked at her and added, “I know it’s only been like—what—four months? But your accent, it changed a bit.”

She chuckled. “Well, staying in a dorm room with three very infectiously chatty Rutgers cheerleaders did it.”

“How was your uni life there? How was New Jersey?” I bombarded her with questions, excitedly. “Did you have a blast?”

“’Twas such a fun place and fun people,” Misaki said, nodding her head. “I enjoyed it a lot, yes. And the cheerleading team there in Rutgers? So much better than the one here, I’m telling you—”

“Hey!” Sarah broke in with pretend indignation. “I heard that, girl.” Chuckling, the Korean girl then went back to chatting with a couple of HEP buddies.

“That’s Sarah,” I told Misaki, grinning a little. “A new student. She’s in the rah-rah team. Unfortunately.”

“Oops.” Misaki grinned sheepishly, and I laughed.

“Misaki Ueno?” Naomi came up to us, her eyes wide with surprise. “Wow. You’re back.” Her smile was surprisingly warm.

Misaki returned her smile. “Yes. Just for the summer break, though, Naomi-chan. I’m planning to take another semester there.”

“That’s nice,” Naomi said, putting her arm casually around my shoulders. “So . . . did something interesting happen there?” She raised a teasing brow.

Misaki grinned a little. “You mean besides being at a chug-fest kegger and oil wrestling with Italian girls?”

Naomi’s mouth dropped, incredulous. “No way.”

I broke in with a chuckle. “Of course, she’s just joking, Naomi,” I said. “Misaki’s a living saint. I know her even better than she knows herself. She would never do such a—” I paused when I saw Misaki’s expression. “Wait. You mean that was . . . ?”

Misaki nodded, and blushed beet red. I mouthed an ‘Oh’ of bafflement.

Naomi smirked at me. “Maybe you don’t know her at all anymore, Em.”

I stood there awkwardly, wondering where to place myself. Maybe I should just grab a tray and start dishing out salads and cocktails like the serving staff.

“I’ll – uh – I’ll get you drinks,” I said as the lamest excuse possible.

I walked toward the table where the bottles of champagne and red wine stood, my head still reeling a little from what came out of Misaki’s lips. I took three crystal goblets from a tray and poured some wine into them.

Zoe, with her tousled bedroom hair and white mini-dress, traipsed over, sipping her alcohol and flashing her dimpled smile at me, all lazy and pretty. She draped her arm around my shoulders. “See, this is exactly why I prefer girls,” she drawled. “They just look hotter than hell in dresses and high heels.”

As some Class 1A Chinese lad continued to give some sort of farewell or congratulatory speech in Japanese—I couldn't tell, and no one had been really listening—I scanned the sea of faces around me. Everyone looked like they’re happy, but determined not to show it. You could just see the way the corners of their mouths tug down slightly and the way the twinkle in their eyes radiate sadness—everything spelt m-i-s-e-r-y i-n-c-o-g-n-i-t-o. In a few days, some people would be leaving and some people would be left behind. You just couldn’t tell which side would be hurting more. I’m guessing the being left behind corner, but who knows, really.

My gaze flew back to the couple of lovely girls who, very surprisingly, were getting along so damn well. They seemed to be engaged in a light chat—chuckling, patting each other’s arm, laughing. The refreshing sight brought a smile to my face. Both girls meant so much to me—Naomi, being the ever loving, protective girlfriend; and Misaki, being the ever sweet, supportive mate.

“You know her?” Zoe asked, watching me watch Misaki.

I couldn’t help rolling my eyes. “Oh, Jesus. Don’t even think about it, Spandex.”

Zoe raised a brow. “Why? Because she’s straight?”

“You mean because I used to date her?”

“Oh.” Zoe stretched the word as if ‘Oh’ alone meant ‘Oh, definitely off-limits, then’ and patted my cheek. “Fair enough, Little Emily. But I have to say, you really have great eye for beauty. I mean, Naomi and that Japanese chick? How did that happen? I’m just in awe.” She gazed at the couple of girls, shaking her head in amazement.

My eyes wandered back to Misaki and Naomi. “But of course,” I said, smirking smugly. “The Fitch Force is infallible.”

Zoe nodded, her gaze still on the girls. “Hm. And that would really make sense ‘cos who could appreciate beauty more than beautiful people themselves, right?” She looked down at me, a brow up.

“Oh, shut up. They’re so out of my league.”

Zoe sighed. “How lame is it that no matter how amazing a woman thinks she is, self-doubt always creeps in?” I sighed back at her and just listened. “You’re beautiful, Emily. And you know that. So stop doubting your gorgeousness. Your parents would be insulted.”

I laughed and gave her shoulder a playful shove. “I’ll keep that in mind, Casanova. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think the girls are waiting for a well fit redhead to hand them their drinks.” Laughing, Zoe gave my butt a light slap, and I made my way back to Naomi and Misaki.

“Here are your drinks.” I handed each of them a glass. “What did I miss?”

“Seems like the Rainbow Bridge walk is a goer, after all, Emily-chan,” Misaki filled in. “Naomi here told me you guys are going to Tokyo this Saturday?”

I nodded vigorously. “Ah, yes, yes!”

“It’s perfect,” Naomi said, with a little grin. “‘Cos Misaki will be there, too. We can all hang out, yea?”

I beamed. “Yay! That’s great!”

Naomi raised her glass. “Cheers to a healthy and fruitful summer break. Whatever healthy and fruitful means.”

“Cheers,” Misaki and I echoed, as we clinked our glasses together.

The Pomp and Circumstance music stopped and Doug walked over to the microphone stand. He cleared his throat to signal silence, which ensued rapidly.

“Please find your places at the tables. Dinner shall be served in a few moments . . .”

Misaki turned to us and smiled her sweet smile. “Well, it’s time to eat, so we should probably take our seats,” she said. “My table’s over there.” She pointed at the table where JJ, Effy, Freddie, and Evan were seated.

Misaki kissed me on the cheek before turning on her heel to walk off. Naomi only stared at this, but didn’t react the slightest—to my surprise. Not that I’d thought she’d leap on a tabletop and scream in protest, but perhaps a flinch?

Naomi led me to our table, and we took our seats. As if by instinct, Naomi placed her hand on my thigh, and I delighted in its warmth.

“She’s still pretty incredible looking,” Naomi said, eyeing Misaki, and my brow furrowed instantly. “And I’m saying this because it’s the truth and I refuse to be one of those people who fucking cuts down other people around you just in the name of self-promotion.”

“I love that you are very honest with me, babe,” I said. “And I love that you’re not jealous of Misaki anymore.”

“Well, I trust you now completely,” she said, looking at me intently and giving my thigh a gentle squeeze. “I trust your feelings for me. There, I said it.”

“Fucking hell, Campbell,” I said, smirking, “it’s about time.”

“Hey,” Cook said, touching my thigh with his bare foot.

“What’d you find?” Thomas called. He was sitting by the river, playfully splashing water onto Halo and Panda with his foot.

“A redhead with great tits!” Cook shouted back, smirking. “She washed ashore an’ appears to be human.”

“Fuck off, Cook,” I said, sitting up and tucking my knees to my chest. The summer air felt strangely cold.

The gang had created a camp site with chairs and tents and a portable grill at one side of the river. What could be the perfect way to spend summer? Swimming. But we didn’t go to a beach or any body of water ‘swimmable.’ Rather, we journeyed to this deadly river—with ruthless rapids—just five train stations away from our dorm.

“Where’s Blondie?” Cook asked, sitting beside me on the rocky ground.

“She left to get drinks and chips with Sarah and Effy.”

“Hey, everyone, watch this!” I heard Panda shout. “Zoe’s gonna do something super duper wick!”  

Zoe, clad in a black bikini top and white board shorts, took three steps to the end of a big boulder, launched herself out and upward, then sliced into the water into a beautiful dive.

Everyone around started to cheer.

“Oh, my God! That was so cool, Zoe!” Halo gushed when Zoe’s head popped above the water.

Not bad for an Olympic swimmer, I thought. Pushing her wet hair off her face, Zoe looked at me and grinned. I grinned back.

The Irish bloke had that sleazy grin. “Dear Jaysus, that was one hot stunt. I could totally trudgen that mint.” Then he took his shirt off. “I’m heading in. Keen to join us, Emilio?”

“No, thanks.” I pointed to my tank top. “I don’t have a swimming costume.”

“Oh, come on,” Cook said, tapping my knees. “That’s not a legit excuse, babes.”

I stared at him. “Cook, I know you could be thick most of the time but can’t you see that huge sign just across the river? It is written in English and clearly states ‘You must not swim here.’”

Cook snorted in laughter. “Grow some focking balls, Emilio! Where was that girl who told me she’ll run off with my plums?”

“That girl would never be found again if you continue prodding her into doing this stupid stunt. No way am I going to dip a toe into this river.” I shook my head.

Cook raised his brows then grinned mischievously. “Oi, fockers!” he called to the boys. “The redhead with great tits here is afraid to get wet!”

As if that was a bat signal in the sky, Thomas, and Freddie ran over and, with Cook, carried me on their shoulders and swung me like a kid into the rushing waves.

“What the—!” I screamed. “Fucking hell! It’s freezing!”

“One! Two!” they shouted. Thomas had my ankles and Cook had my arms.

“Fuck’s sake! Put me down!” I said, closing my eyes as they continued to swing me. I braced myself for the cold water and the lurking creatures underwater—

“Oi, you fucking bastards!” I heard Naomi bellow. “Put Emily down!”

The boys instantly did. The blonde then shot the boys a sharp look, making them flee right away for their lives.

Naomi took in my piteous state. “Christ, Ranga, I can’t leave you alone for an hour?” She took a fluffy towel from her yellow canvas bag and patted my arms dry.

I hated it that she was really tall. I rose to my toes and kissed her cheek. “My knight in shining armour saves the day yet again.”

“Knight in shining armour, huh,” Naomi echoed, padding over to a heap of rocks. She sat on it, slipped her shoes off and dipped her feet into the water.

I took a seat next to her. “The baseball game wanker, Katie’s ex Danny, the stress caused by my research paper, Zoe, my mother, all those scumbags, all those cows. I could go on and on, you know,” I pointed out, very cautiously letting one foot feel the cold, fast-moving water. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Naomes.”

She placed a hand on my thigh. “Like I said, babe, you don’t have to go through anything without me.” She winked, and I smiled.

Some hooting made our heads snap to JJ, who was standing on top of the massive rock. “Woo! I, JJ Jones, shall become a changed man after this awesome stunt!” he cried, thumping his fists to his chest like Tarzan. “Watch me, ladies and gents!”

Naomi let out a laugh. “Unbelievable,” she muttered. “But still very pathetic.”  

Getting back to the topic, I asked with matching hand gestures, “And how ‘bout if I’m way over there in Bristol and you’re way over there in Melbourne?”

“I’m just a phone call away, you know,” she answered, brushing her chin against my shoulder. “I’d fly a million miles just to kick a bastard’s arse.”

I giggled, then my smile faded as I gazed at the eerie rushing water below us. “I’m trying not to think of Anaconda or Piranha here.” I quickly lifted my feet up, and gave a mock shiver of fear.

“I’d even wrestle with an anaconda for you,” Naomi said, rather smugly.

I cocked an eye at her. “Oh, would you really?”

“The Campbells are known for their big balls too, you know.”

“Even in front of a screaming old lady with a wooden cane?” I teased, and cue the very funny look from Naomi.

I was halfway to a laugh when I heard a massive splash of water then JJ’s cry of pain.

All heads turned to the Aussie lad’s direction. It seemed like he slipped from the huge rock, fell the wrong way into the water and hit his head to a rock.

“Oh, shit!” Thomas exclaimed, dog-paddling over to where JJ plunged into and looking all worried. “Shit. JJ, you okay, brother?”

JJ popped up through the water, one hand over the bleeding side of his forehead.

“Oh, shit. JJ,” I heard Naomi mutter. And we instantly climbed to our feet and moved toward bleeding JJ.

Looking at his hand covered in blood, JJ snickered like an idiot. “That was the awesomest stunt ever! Did you guys see that?” His face was bright. “Did you see what I just did?” What a clown, I thought, letting out a sigh of relief.

Sarah rushed toward him. “God, it’s huge,” she gasped, studying JJ’s gash. “This will need some stitching, you guys.” Panda and Halo instantly dashed to his side to comfort him.

Halo glared at JJ and gave his shoulder a little swat. “You idiot! You almost gave me a freaking heart attack!”

Cook came up to the curly-haired lad, grinning. “Impressive one, GayJay,” he said, clapping his back proudly. “Impressive indeed. Now, fella, let’s take ye to the hospital, yea?” He winced and made a face. “Blood focking makes me sick.”

Whilst waiting for JJ in the hospital on Wednesday night, Naomi and I shared a giant concoction—shaved ice, chocolate syrup, whipped cream, and a large puddle of mint flavouring.

“It’s perfect we’re lovers,” I said, and shoveled a spoonful of the icy mint chocolate mixture into my mouth. “Who else would eat this with me?”

Naomi shook her head and scooped some up for herself. “No one. That’s why we can never ever break up, babe.”

“Yea, we can’t,” I said. “We’re far too mature or—wait—maybe we’re far too insane for that.”

“Agreed.” She licked her spoon, took another spoonful. Then she looked at me. “Pretty eventful break so far, yea?”

“And to think it has just started,” I added.

Naomi fed me with a spoonful of the mixture. “It’s nice, you know,” she said, “summer’s here as the great equaliser for everyone.”

“Meaning?” I sucked some sugary sludge through a straw.

“Meaning . . . to a certain extent, everyone’s got the same intentions during the summer. After all the bloody drama and trauma of the past seasons, everyone just wants to have fun.”

I tilted my head to the side and nudged her. “And just how do you spell fun, Miss Campbell?”

“Um, f-u-n?” she asked.

“No—Try s-u-m-m-e-r r-o-m-a-m-c-e.”

“Summer romamce?” she asked and cracked up. “I’m not sure I’m familiar with that term.”

“Oh, shut up. You know I meant romance. Not that you’d be the one to recognise such a term.”

“I’m just as much of a romamcer as you are, Fitch,” she said like it’s a competition.

“Ah, yea?” I challenged, raising my brows. “Prove it, Campbell.”

“You can’t spell romamce without M and E. Get it? Get it?” she said with cockiness. “No romamce without me.”

“Oh, God, Naomi,” I said, scrunching up my nose yet suppressing laughter. “That was so corny.”

She fixed me a look. “Piss off, Fitch.”

I opened my mouth for a comeback, but Naomi shoved the straw in to shut me up.

Scowling, I removed the straw from my mouth and opened my mouth to speak again but the blonde quickly silenced me with a hard kiss.

When she pulled back, she regarded me with a smug smirk. “Well?”

I narrowed my gaze at her, then bit my lip. “Very romamtic, indeed,” I said. “Can I have another kiss, babe?”

“I aim to please,” Naomi said, smirking. Then she leant in again to give me another one, sweetness on her lips.

Naomi stirred, exhaling a deep breath. I wanted her to wake up, but she looked so beautiful just sleeping.

I moved the swivel chair a little closer, gazing at the contours of Naomi’s face and the light waves of her blonde hair, staring at her like I’ve never seen her before.

My eyes drank in the sight of her. I pored over the smallest details from the shape of her hairline to the small white half-moons on her fingernails. The arch of her throat. Soft, long lashes and the couple of light-coloured spots below her left eye.

When I was finished, my brow furrowed in puzzlement. Why? Why do we have to be miles apart? I didn’t know if I would be able to take the distance. Take the idea that it would take indefinite number of months before I could hug her, huggle her, kiss her again.

Glancing down at her, I felt a smile curl my lips at the sight of the bracelet I gave her as our first monthsary gift.

With a careful finger, I touched the gold chains, lightly tracing my fingers over her wrist. When I glanced up again at her face, I got a jolt.

Naomi’s blue eyes were open and staring at me. In that sweet voice that mesmerised me, she said, “Hello, Ranga.”

“Hey,” I greeted back quietly. “I was just admiring the view.”

Smiling, Naomi then sat up and fixed her hair into a ponytail. I moved to sit beside her on the bed, took her iPod from her bedside table and started playing Tap Tap Revenge. Peripherally, I watched as Naomi looked sideways and saw how her jaw dropped when she spotted a vase filled with white calla lilies and Firefighter Pig holding a red, heart-shaped balloon that says “I love you” on top of her desk. Smiling inwardly, I feigned absorption in the game.

“Ems?” Naomi called. “There’s a bunch of lilies and a heart balloon on my desk.”

“Really?” I said coolly, not taking my eyes off the iPod screen and only kept on tapping. “That’s really sweet.”

For a moment, Naomi stared at me as I continued playing with the iPod. I was fighting off a sly smirk right from the start. Peripherally, I saw the blonde watching me, an amused smirk playing on her lips.

Pushing the iPod down, Naomi moved closer to me and ran one hand through my hair. “You are the sweetest thing in this world, Emily Fitch.”

I feigned bewilderment. “Thank you,” I said. “I think.”

Naomi laughed. “God, you’re such a bad actress. But you’re amazing, babe, I’ll give you that,” she said, her gaze fixed on my mouth as she leant in closer and closer. “And as long as Emily Fitch lives and breathes, true romance—or romamce, rather—shall never die.” 

I panned the video camera from Naomi, in front of the convenience store, to the sidewalk, where Cook has dropped on one knee in front of a smug Sarah doing God-knows-what. Oh, Christ. They weren’t done with those games.

I aimed the camera at Naomi. She looked so naturally beautiful even only in her green printed loose top, denim cargo shorts and a pair of flip-flops. It was Thursday past noon. The sun, high above us, was clearly insinuating that summer had indeed officially started. Cook, Naomi, Sarah and I popped by Family Mart just a block away from the dorm to grab some ice cream.

Gazing at her, with the sun glinting off her blond hair as I filmed her, I called. “Hey, sexy.”

Naomi threw her popsicle stick into a garbage bin, then glared at the camera lens. “Hey, perve.”

“So, Miss Campbell, do you have any feelings about a redhead who’s a total crybaby, abnormally mushy, and awfully clingy, but would be willing to make you Fitch Salad every time you feel cranky or pissy or bitchy?” I asked from behind the lens.

“Ems,” she said, her voice low. She wouldn’t look at the camera lens. “Stop it.”

I was stifling a laugh. Who knew the blonde was camera-shy? “Oh, come on. Stop being such a grumpy ol’ Grams.”

Naomi cocked her head at me. “Emily, put the camera down.”

I kept filming her. “Naomi, c’mon,” I urged. “How do you feel?”

“I think you know the answer to that, Emily.”

I pursed my lips. “Hm. So it could only be . . . (a) I feel fucking happy; (b) I feel fucking happy; or (c) I feel fucking happy.”

Naomi snorted. “How about (d) None of the above.”

My brow furrowed to which she quickly added, “I feel lucky, Emily,” she said. “I feel fucking lucky. Happy now?”

“I like your answer,” I said, inordinately pleased. I moved the camera a little to my left and was greeted by Cook.

Cook smiled into the camera, stuck his tongue out and waggled it. “Ladies, fancy a threesome?”

Naomi’s eyes rolled skyward. “Jesus, Cook, how many times do you have to use that pathetic line, seriously?”

“Because yer answer’s always ‘no’, babes,” Cook said, snickering.

Naomi folded her arms and looked at him condescendingly. “Because as much as I try to find a nice angle of you, you’re just a shitty little wanker through and through.”

Cook let out a snort of laughter. “Naomi love, how long have ye not seen cock, seriously? Don’t ye miss it? I mean, if ye wanna play around, Cookie Monster is—”

Naomi gave him a sarcastic smile. “I have no intention of seeing your cock or anyone’s cock for that matter. Not now. Not ever.”

Cook threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, so ye’re gay all the way now, Naomikins?”

“Gay all the fucking way, yes,” Naomi answered straight. And it made me smile to myself.

“Awrite,” Cook said, smirking. “Fair enough.”

“Good boy,” the blonde said, reaching up to pat him on the head. “Now get lost, you root rat.”

“Jesus Christ. What a cockhead,” Naomi muttered as we started walking back to the dorm.

My eyes slid to her. “Gay all the way, huh?”

Smirking, Naomi slung her arm around my shoulder. “Gay all the way with you, babe.” Cue laughter and exchange of sickly sweet smiles from us. I leant into my girlfriend, resting my head on her shoulder, amazed by how perfectly our bodies really fit together.

When we reached the dorm, we were greeted by a little scene. There was a black limousine parked just in front of the gate, and there were suited blokes inside the lobby. I saw Halo and Panda just chatting—or more like gossiping—outside by the door.

“What is going on here?” Naomi asked Halo and Panda. “Is everything all right?”

Panda frowned. “Well, JJ’s parents heard about the accident so they sent some people to take him back home to Sydney immediately,” she filled in.

My brows came together in question. “Some people?”

Halo smirked. “Apparently, JJ’s life is valued more than the whole population of Kansai cities combined.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, genuinely clueless.

“JJ’s a Jones,” Panda said simply.

“Uh . . . We are aware of that, Panda,” Naomi said dryly.

“No, what Panda meant was JJ’s from the Jones family,” Halo explained. “They’re this Australian equivalent of financial royalty—a family whose name is a corporation. You heard of them, Naomi?”

“You’re saying that JJ’s related to that evil money-hoarder William Jones, Sr.?” Naomi said, with an incredulous look.

Halo smirked. “Yup,” she said. “He’s the grandson or great-grandson, I think. And they own a bunch of . . . lush stuff. I’m not sure.” She shrugged. “I found out all about it only this morning.”

JJ appeared pushing through the glass doors of the dorm, escorted by a couple of tall, beefy black-suited blokes. He was dressed in a preppy vest over a button-down light blue top and a tie, and a pair of white slacks—looking like he could perfectly blend amongst Gossip Girl’s Upper East Side crowd.

“You clean up well, JJ. Minus the bandage, that is,” I said, poking the sterile bandage on his forehead. “Look at you.”

He grinned down at me. “My mother would go nuts if she sees me wearing a T-shirt.”

Naomi suddenly grabbed JJ’s upper arm and steered him to a corner. I followed them.

“Is it true?” Naomi asked the curly-haired boy. “You own Jones Corp.?”

“Um. Yea.” JJ shrugged. “So?” He stared at the blonde quizzically.

“So the Jones Building in Sydney?” Naomi asked.

“Ours,” JJ answered casually.

Naomi squinted at him uncertainly. “And the Jones Building in Melbourne right near where my friend interned at Rant magazine?” she asked again.

“Ours.”

“Huh.” It was all Naomi could come up with—perhaps, just like me, she was just too amazed at her own superficial assumptions and the reversal of them.

JJ put his hands inside his pockets and gave us a lopsided smile. “I wanted to tell you guys—well, no.”

“Fair enough,” I said, smiling and clapping his back. The three of us sat on the steps of the dorm entrance.

“So you’re not mad?” JJ asked me.

In my ultra-British voice I corrected him. “Nasty monsters like my mum get mad, humans get angry.” I snorted. “Why would I be angry, JJ? It’s nice to know I have a billionaire mate.” I playfully bumped my shoulder to his. “That’s a good investment for future exploitation, you know.” I grinned at him wickedly as Naomi chuckled.

JJ laughed. “See? It’s people like you that I wanted to avoid.”

“I’m just joking,” I said, ruffling his curly hair for the last time. “You know we love you, regardless if you’re penniless JJ or filthy rich JJ.”

“Sir Jonah, we have to go now or we’ll miss our flight,” a burly bloke in his mid-thirties called.

“Got it, Boris,” JJ said to his bodyguard. “Just give me one more minute.” Then he stood up from the steps and flashed us his usual grin. “So I guess I have to go, girls.” Naomi and I got to our feet as well.

Naomi cocked her head at him and squinted. “You don’t look so sad.”

“Oh, I’m sad,” JJ said. “But Lara means the whole world to me. I just can’t wait to see her again, you know.” Then he turned to me. “Do drop by Sydney anytime, Emily. I’ll save you an awesome suite overlooking the beach.”

“You’re a good friend, JJ.” I hugged him, tiny tears forming in the corner of my eyes. “Not because of the awesome suite offer,” I added quickly, “but because—you know—you just . . . are.”

JJ’s face lit up at my words, then he regarded the blonde. “And Naomi,” he began, grinning at her, “See you around New South. And, erm, please don’t pretend you don’t know me from now on, okay?”

Naomi laughed. “Never again, Jay,” she said, then added in a serious tone, “Just don’t approach me at campus when you’re tapping keys on your Nintendo DS or you’ll definitely be back to invisible.”

JJ smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He then stretched his arms out. “Well, I believe I owe all of you my deepest gratitude,” he said loudly to everyone. “This has been the awesomest ten months of my life.”

The rest of the gang rushed to us and soon we were caught in a tight group hug. “Ours too, JJ,” we said. “Ours too.”

After giving his final farewells and hugs to the others, JJ moved to the limousine’s open door and jumped in. He poked his head out and touched his finger to his brow in salute before the chauffeur closed the door for him.

Cook saluted back and shouted, “Hasta la vista, money bag GayJay!” — so that was it.

We stood there, waiting dutifully, watching as the limousine headed down the street. A fierce pain grabbed hold of me.

“The first one to go,” I said quietly to myself, my eyes starting to sting again. And I’m next, I added silently. I felt someone’s arm hook around mine. It was Naomi’s.

The limousine paused at a stop sign, its left blinker flashing. Then it turned and disappeared around the corner.

“Unbelievable,” Naomi said, shaking her head. “Who knew that the JJ we would always smack in the head would turn out to be pampered Richie Rich.”

“Life’s just full of surprises,” I said simply.

“Yea,” Naomi agreed softly, linking our fingers. “Like me bumping into you.”

I opened the door to Naomi’s room and found her already sleeping soundly in her bed. I was just thinking of giving her a goodnight kiss when my attention was caught by the huge corkboard hung on one wall. I wandered over to it to study it again. It had been a long while since I last checked it out. My eyes flew over to the images, and I was surprised to see that it had changed almost completely.

Bits of poetry, old tickets, receipts. Pictures of her and her family. Pictures of her with her uni mates. Pictures of her and the gang. Her Hamada U acceptance letter. Politics-related articles cut from magazines and newspaper headlines about environmental and animal welfare issues. Secret post-it notes about a certain redhead. A notebook page with a drawing of a redhead and a blonde—coloured using Stabilo markers. Our first purikura photos together. A Garibaldi biscuit wrapper. The receipt of the first groceries we bought together as a couple. The bill of the first dinner date we had, and so on.

Unbelievable, I thought. Really unbelievable.

About nine months ago when I first laid my eyes on this corkboard, I wasn’t included in it—I wasn’t considered a valuable part of Naomi Campbell’s life. Not even a single picture of me. Not even a hint. And now “Ranga” and our memories occupied more than half of it. Just thinking about how much I meant to her brought tears to my eyes.

I looked over my shoulder at the sleeping blonde. She looked very peaceful that it made me smile. I looked again at the corkboard. The longer I looked, the less haphazard it appeared. In fact, it seemed to be, in some way, brilliantly organised. It seemed to be divided into loose segments—one part dealing with society, one part dealing with art and music, one part mirroring her family life with her mum, grandfather, and Aunt G, one part displaying her uni life back at University of New South Wales, one part showing the crazy gang and our epic adventures, and a huge part revealing us.

A smile curled my lip. It’s like—like it says everything.

I touched one finger to a photo of us together—taken during the holidays. 

But on the other hand, everything changes, right? the Lady Philosophy in me piped up. Like everyone’s personal corkboard transforms as each nanosecond passes.

I took a step back and let my eyes search over the images again. But instead of seeing this whole chaotic corkboard, I saw Emily. The weak, shy Emily Fitch. Emily and Naomi. Emily the changed girl. Emily without Naomi. Scared, lonely Emily.

I knew I would miss her so much. I knew I would need her so much. So terribly.

But what am I doing here merely staring at her corkboard? I should be cuddling with Naomi, showing her how much she means to me now that we’re still together, now that I can still touch her, kiss her, smell her. I should spend the rest of my days here just being happy with her and making her happy in return, because as soon as I jump inside that airport shuttle taxi I’m—

“Ems?” I heard Naomi call softly. “Are you okay?”

I turned around and shone her my most loving smile. “Yes,” I said, moving toward her. “Very okay.”  

Switching her lamp to low, I sat down on the floor in front of her. “Good night, Naomi,” I said quietly and kissed her cheek. “I love you.” I climbed to my feet and was about to move to the door when Naomi called.

“Em, stay here, please,” Naomi implored quietly. “Stay with me.”

I dutifully slipped under her covers and snuggled against the curve of her back like we used to, savouring the closeness. Pressing my cheek against the soft and sweet-smelling fabric of her pig shirt, I squeezed my eyes closed.

Sweet memories and unhappy thoughts instantly assailed me. I recalled those times when I’d never wanted to get out of bed—how I’d beg her to sleep late with me, how we’d make love for hours. And the thought of waking up one day and finding out she isn’t in my arms or I couldn’t just walk a few steps and see her in her room, it just killed me. My heart hurt.

Silent tears fell from my closed eyes. And ever my knight in shining armour that she was, Naomi’s arm pressed me closer to her. I slipped my own arm around her waist, my fingers curling into her shirt.

I couldn’t fight the urge to give her another kiss. I lifted my head up and brushed my lips against Naomi’s cheek. Her skin was wet with tears, too.

I drew back. “Naomi? You’re crying.”

“So what?” she sniffled. “You are, too.”

“Okay. Let’s cry together,” I said, and we both laughed despite our tangled emotions.

Naomi rolled over to her other side and faced me. When our eyes met, we cracked up again—embarrassed for each other as we saw the other one’s tear-streaked face and red nose.

Then Naomi crinkled her nose. “Sarah’s right. We’re just hopeless, Ems,” she said, making me giggle a little more. “Just fucking unsalvageable.”

It was early Friday morning. I ran even though the hilly streets of Kyoto knocked the breath out of me before I had gone a quarter of a mile. I kept on running for hours. I ran until my ankle throbbed again, whether from the running itself or from the overthinking that would constantly bog me down, I didn’t know. Visions of Naomi getting wrecked at a wild frat house party whilst I was—literally—curled up in a corner of my room, watching the minutes pass, kept hovering inside my head. It was ridiculous, but I couldn’t help myself. And if my paranoid thoughts of her weren’t enough to send me reeling, Naomi sent me a text message saying that she got a call from David.

“I find the map and draw a straight line over rivers, farms, and state lines,” I sang along with Snow Patrol in my iPod, as my legs kept on. “The distance from ‘A’ to where you’d be, it’s only finger-lengths that I see . . .”

I flashed an image of myself running down the streets of Bristol, running like I had been running now, running until my knees gave out. In my vivid chimera, I saw my knee buckle and then I fell on the ground. I would cry.

“Their words mostly noises. Ghosts with just voices,” I went on, as my poetic imagination kept on. “Your words in my memory are like music to me . . .”

I saw myself almost giving up. The areas around my heart and knees would be tenuous and sore, my eyes swollen. And it was raining cold and slimy. Heavily raining around gloomy Bristol.

“I’m miles from where you are. I lay down on the cold ground,” I sang dramatically—like it was virtually an interpretative performance. “I pray that something picks me up and sets me down in your warm arms. After I had travelled so far, we’d set the fire to the third bar. We’d share each other like an island. Until exhausted, close our—”

“Well if it isn’t the emo Miss Emily Fitch.” Effy appeared jogging next to me, smirking.

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, fucking shoot me now,” I muttered, slowing down.

She laughed despite her ragged breathing. Another twat making fun of my misery.

Blushing from embarrassment, I limped toward a park bench, sat down, then took the earphones off my ears. “Oh, Jesus. Tell me you didn’t see all that, Ef.”

Effy parked herself beside me on the bench, then looked me dead in the eye. “Do yourself a favor: Start dressing in black, pierce your tongue, and scar yourself daily with a fucking kitchen knife to let out the internal pain.”

“Piss off, Elizabeth,” I said, training my eyes on the grass below.

The brunette let out a chuckle. “Ah, long-distance love affair—bad for the heart but good nourishment for the artistic soul,” she teased, then offered me her bottle of water.

“I think my soul’s just as artistic as it needs to be.” I opened the bottle and took a swig.

“It’s too early for moping, Emily. And to think you aren’t even ‘miles from where she is’ yet,” Effy said, making air quotes.

“I know. I just can’t help it.” I shrugged, chuckling silently at my absurdity. Then I turned to her. “What do you think’s gonna happen to us, Ef?”

Effy smirked. “This is all very dramatic, I should say.”

“I just want an honest answer from the all-knowing Effy Stonem.”

The brunette then faced me. “Emily,” she began, “you and Naomi . . . you will brave anything together.”

A faint smile curled my lips. It reminded me so bizarrely much of Sean’s words:

“Emsy, if there is only one thing I’m sure about in this world, it’s that you and Naomi are always gonna be awesomdary together. It’s like I can see you two holding on despite the distance, despite all shitty times.”

“Yea, but there’s all that distance and if it’s there then such things never work out,” I argued. “The distance just makes the relationship more like an obligation than a pleasure.” The thought I’d been working hard to smother was steadily rising to the surface of my mind.

“You got a serious case of overthinking things not worth overthinking of,” Effy said. “Emily, distance doesn’t have to matter if you don’t let it.”

I snorted. “That’s what everyone says.”

“Well, everyone’s speaking of the truth then.”

“Or maybe everyone’s just stupid,” I corrected.

“Or maybe everyone’s just in love.”

I drew back, a little bewildered. “How come you’re the starry-eyed one now?” I asked. “You’re supposed to be the mysterious, stony, I-don’t-give-a-shit-about-emotions one.”

“Maybe I had just been enlightened,” Effy replied.

“Or maybe you’ve just been struck by L-O-V-E.”

Effy smiled. “Maybe you’re R-I-G-H-T.”

I watched her as she moved around the bar, sneaking air-kisses and sexy winks at me. She looked so gorgeous. I loved her fierce like this—in her bleached-out cut-offs and sexy white Keith’s Pub top. Every time she moved, her blond hair would sway enchantingly and the taut muscles of her stomach would get a bit more defined. I wanted to pull her close—wanted for her to be always in my arms.

“Here you are, Ranga,” Naomi said, as she placed a glass of Mojito in front of me. “On the house.” She didn’t forget to brush a finger along my hand just to make contact.

I managed a smile at her, despite the shudders that were taking over my body. God. These things she could make me feel by merely standing a metre from me—the way she says my name, the way she touches me, the way she looks at me, the way she makes me feel wanted and cherished and protected and loved . . . and more.

“You owe me a kiss later.” She winked then made her way back to the other end of the bar to serve another customer.

I realised with a little shock that whilst I still got the case of the shivers whenever I was close to her, it wasn’t for at all the usual reasons anymore. I held my Mojito but did not drink. I peered into the liquid, as if it could be read like tea leaves.

Yes, Naomi Campbell was a lot of things.

But what Naomi was, primarily, was . . . my home. And I felt closer to her and better with her than with any other person in my life.

I ran my fingers around the small rim of my glass. And if she’d be gone or if someone takes her away from me, then I’d end up just a wandering nomad—homeless, lost, and lonely. There goes my overthinking bogging me down again.

Naomi was suddenly standing in front of me. She studied me, rather worried. “Hey, beautiful,” she said. “Why so cranky all of a sudden?”

I looked up. Her blue eyes were so beautiful and she had a sweet smirk forming on her lips. But I didn’t cave into a smile.

“I really wish you could come with me to Bristol,” I said for the bazillionth time that day.

“Believe me, so do I,” Naomi said, smiling sadly. “But we have things out there waiting for us, Em. And I know you don’t want to let your dad down.”

“I know. I know,” I said, but still feeling bad and guilty. “But I feel like I should stay with you here and we’ll leave on the same day. We talked about that, didn’t we?”

“You know it’s going to be all okay, Emily. The gang will be here so I’ll be fine. I don’t mind, and if I did I’d tell you, right? Isn’t our relationship based on honesty?”

“Yea,” I said, then I looked away.

“What?” she prodded. “What’s that look for?”

“Nothing.” I turned away again.

“Oh, Jesus Christ, it’s like acting for the stage for people who suck at acting.”

“Fine,” I said. “If you’re going to interpret every single one of my actions then I’ll tell you. But I feel weird about it—and I’m worried that you’ll overreact . . .”

“Enough of the disclaimers,” Naomi said, taking a quick sip of her vodka-based drink. “Just tell me. I probably already know, anyway.”

“Why? What do you think I’m going to say?” I said and understood suddenly why Katie gets confused when she hears me talking to my friends. She said it’s like we’re discussing air with a passion, nothing—but something.

“I think it has something to do with . . . us. As usual.”

“Well, you’re right about that.”

Watching my face, Naomi rattled the ice in her glass. “Out with it.”

I took a long sip of my drink before taking the plunge. “What if you find someone else?”

“Nonsense,” she answered right away.

“What if you get lonely and I’m not there to be with you?”

“Rubbish.”

“What if it doesn’t work?”

“It will work, Emily,” Naomi assured me. “I’ll write you e-mails. I’ll send you blue roses. I’ll surprise you with gifts.”

“I don’t need gifts.”

“I could give you time,” she said. “I’ll call you, text you, Skype with you whenever I can, baby. I can—”

“Hey, missy,” a short, plump man with a crabby attitude sitting three stools away from me called. “What happened to my drink?”

Naomi regarded him with a roll of her eyes. “Could you just hang on a bit there, mister?” Then she turned to me again, now getting more desperate. “I can send you pancakes. All the pancakes you want.”

“I don’t want pancakes,” I said. The crabby bloke kept calling Naomi but the blonde only ignored him.

“I’ll send you boxes of mint chocolates,” Naomi tried again.

“I don’t want chocolates. I want—” I didn’t know exactly what I want. Was it too much to ask to have her close to me? Yes, it was. I was being selfish, but I couldn’t help being selfish. I just wanted to be with her. “I’m not sure what I want,” I told her.

“Well, I know what I want. I want you,” Naomi said firmly. “But we have to go through this together, babe. We are going to be—”

“Just fine,” I filled in flatly.

“Yes. Just fine.”

“Fine.”

“You don’t like fine,” she said.

“Nope—and neither do you,” I said. “Fine is boring, Naomi. Fine’s like, I could be doing other things—other better things, seeing other people—other better people. Fine’s sort of why bother, you know?” My eyes stung, tears creeping from behind. “And I don’t want us to be just fine.”

“Wait,” Naomi said, drawing back slightly. “This conversation is confusing me.”

I shrugged but in the let’s not fight way not in the whatever way. “I just—I just don’t want to be away from you, Naomi.” Then tears started to fall. I brushed them off with the back of my hand instantly.

“Christ, don’t cry here, Em,” Naomi said. “You know how seeing you cry makes me want to cry too.”

The crabby man called again, “Hey, blondie, can I get my—”

“Just wait a sec, mister,” Naomi said, throwing him a sharp look. “I’m trying to talk some sense into my girlfriend who’s a fucking crybaby.” Then she faced me again, now smirking.

I let out a chuckle in spite of myself. “I could use another lime,” I sniffled. “My drink’s getting bland.”

Naomi sliced lime and added it to my drink. “Feel better?”

I nodded my head and shone her a smile which faded almost immediately as soon as I saw the crabby customer approach “Baldy” the pub manager, heatedly voicing out his complaints about Naomi. I saw the manager look pointedly at Naomi but the blonde didn’t pay any attention to either of them.

Naomi leant forward and put her elbows on the countertop. She lifted a hand and stroked my hair gently. “Ems, you need to stop thinking too much, okay? Don’t you believe in us?”

I knew I could never give Naomi up. And even though I was sure the next few months would be hard, my heart felt lighter than it had in days. Naomi believes in our love. That’s what mattered to me the most.

I lifted my face to her and we smiled our private smile to each other. “I’m sorry for always turning weird on you. I guess it’s the infamous Emily Fitch defence mechanism kicking in,” I said, echoing her words.

Naomi gave a short laugh and set her drink aside. “Follow me, Fitch. I know just what you need.” She took her apron off and flung it onto the countertop. Then she sashayed toward the ladies room.

I tried sipping my drink and staying cool when I noticed the manager eyeing me suspiciously, but a moment later I followed Naomi inside the loo. I got there in record time.

“No wonder you’ve never won Employee of the Month,” I said, as Naomi quickly tugged me into a cubicle.

“What?”

“You are the worst bartender ever—”

She suddenly grabbed my wrists and pinned me to the wall. “Take it back.”

I tried, not terribly hard, to break her hold. “See? You treat your customers with such ferocity and—”

“Take it back,” she repeated.

“What’s in it for me?” I asked, raising my brows.

“Me.”

“Oh, okay. I take it back.” Yes, I was easily bought.

Naomi released my wrists then, and I put my arms around her neck. “I think you should go back there, babe,” I rasped. “The balding wanker would be screeching his head off any minute at your absence, I swear.”

“No. You still owe me that kiss,” she murmured against my ear, her hand running back and forth along the curve from my waist to hip. “And why are you thinking about Baldy while we try to make out? That’s just so inappropriate.”

“Naomi—”

We heard the door open and close, then some footsteps. Naomi pushed me hard against the wall. My back made a loud thud sound.

“Ow—!” I scowled at her.

“Shhh!” She unhooked my bra and loosened her grip just enough to snake her other hand up the front of my top.

Naomi looked tantalising. Her blond hair had come loose from her ponytail. And her neck had sexy blobs of sweat, making her skin look more mouth-watering. Everything about her seemed delightful. And her hands. Oh, Jesus, her hands.

I writhed under her. My moans became so loud she covered my mouth with her other hand, but I pulled it away.

Then I let her hands go free to run over my bare skin again until she was almost clawing it. She hooked her leg over mine and rubbed against me, her hand grazing my stomach, then sliding down to tug my skirt up to my waist. Her hands were swift and urgent.

I gave her a look of alarm. “Naomi, they’d be looking for you—”

“Shhh.” Naomi’s nails stabbed into the damp flesh of my thigh.

“Ow! Babe!” I lowered my voice into a muted snarl. “For Pete’s sake.” We heard some people whispering from outside the cubicle.

“Shit,” Naomi whispered. “I’m sorry, Em.”

Her sheepish expression had me bursting into laughter. She covered my mouth again, then attacked my neck. Waves of chills all the way to my toes seized my flailing body over and over again.

“Naomi, there are people waiting outside,” I managed to say between breaths.

But Naomi’s hands were stubborn. I surrendered, undone, melting. We twisted around together. I felt her lips—warm, soft—sliding, and sucking down my stomach. Then she slid up and assaulted my neck for the second time, nipped and sucked at it so fiercely that the skin almost bled.

“Ow!” Scowling yet again, I stroked the side of my neck. “You’re animalistic. Fuck’s sake.”

Naomi was shaking with mute giggles as I continued to glower at her.

The whispering and mumbling outside were becoming increasingly louder.

I was jelly, I could not stop laughing. The thought of being the cause of the gossip, of the commotion, was terribly unnerving yet hilarious and thrilling at the same time. We were both shaking with mute giggles.

She tried to reach for me again but I pushed her hands away.

“No,” I said.

“But, babe, I didn’t get that kiss yet,” Naomi whined quietly.

“No—”

“Campbell!” an angry man called from outside. The voice undeniably belonged to the pub manager. “Miss Campbell, I want you to come out of there. Now!”

Naomi pushed open the cubicle door. “Yes?” she answered, ever so casually. “Is there a problem, Kanemoto-san?”

When the manager saw me come out of the cubicle with the blonde, his eyes widened and his jaw dropped together with half a bunch of other people. I only prayed that the colour in my cheeks wasn’t as vivid as I felt it was and that my knees would continue to support me until we were at least through the door.

“This is a disgrace!” the manager spat.

“Is it?” Naomi questioned, folding her arms provocatively. “How?”

“You doing God-knows-what in there w-with that girl,” he sputtered, cocking his head to me with a scowl. “It’s shameful, really.” He continued to look at me contemptuously.

“Don’t look at my girlfriend like that,” Naomi warned through clenched teeth.

I smirked inwardly as a thought hit me. Wow. Zoe’s skit became true-to-life. For a while there I thought Naomi and I were Olivia and Victoria. Two girls in love but the whole world was against them. First my dear mother, then this bunch of arrogant, holier-than-thou people.

“Why are you here during your shift?” the balding man asked. “You’re supposed to be there by the bar. You know that’s against the pub rules—”

“Oh, really?” Naomi scoffed. “Well, sorry ’cos I don’t work here anymore. I fucking quit,” she declared. Then she tugged my wrist. “C’mon, Em,” she said. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

“Holy shitballs. This room is just ridiculous!” Halo gushed as we placed our shopping bags on Sarah’s bed. We just got back from a Friday night shopping spree at this midnight flea market downtown.

“Oh, herregud!” Panda gasped, putting her hands on her cheeks in sheer delight. “Are you a Korean princess or something, Sarah?”

Wow, I added silently. Sarah’s room, by far, was the best room in the dorm I’d ever set foot in. She turned her room into something beautiful, majestic, museum-like with its curved and gilded antiques and fussy, feminine flounces. I was surprised there wasn’t a velvet rope across the door and a charge for admission.

The only colours other than the gold and wood tones were pink and white—her curtains and bed sheets. Her bed had pink satin sheets and at the head was a mountain of pillows, all slick silks and frothy lace.

“Wow,” I repeated, now audible.

“I have a problem with settling in to a new environment,” Sarah shared. “I couldn’t sleep in a strange room so I had to make a replica of my old room.”

“You’re insane, Sang-min,” Zoe spoke. “Where did you get all these stuff?”

“There’s a hidden antique shop downtown,” answered Sarah. “The place had all these fabulous pieces.”

“We should have pyjama parties here every night!” Panda exclaimed, jumping on the bed.

I took a seat in the swivel chair, listened, detached, to the giggles and animated voices all around me.

A hollow feeling welled up inside my chest, making it hard for me to swallow. The realisation hit me with enough force to make me slouch down in the chair. I only had—what—two nights and two days left here in Japan and they were all talking about these wicked things they wanted to do for the rest of the summer. And I wouldn’t be there.

Zoe brushed a fingertip along a sleek metallic sculpture. “All we’re asking is that you invite us over to your room as often as possible, Miss Gyeon. I could bring Fondle with me.”

“That . . . would be possible,” Sarah said. “Although let me warn you that I snore abnormally loud occasionally, especially after cheerleading practice. That means five times a week, sweets. And I can’t sleep without listening to Air Supply.”

“After twelve years of sleeping with my wheezing Gran and her six cats, even that might sound attractive,” said Zoe.

Sarah went over to her tiny refrigerator and took out a litre of cold oolong tea. “Anyway, have you guys heard that the Lake Biwa fireworks this year would be grander?” she said, pouring tea into several paper cups. “It’s going to be so awesome. I heard it’s one of the biggest events here in Kyoto.”

“Yea, I can’t wait to see it!” squeaked a very excited Panda. “But too bad Emsy and Halo’s not gonna be there.” She pouted.

To add to the sinking feeling, I had just received an e-mail this morning from Professor Heatherton, the head of our department, requesting for a meeting in two weeks. I think he wanted to talk to me to give me some sort of advice or to finally chuck me out of the department—I wasn’t so sure. Either way, it made me feel like crap all the more. Utter, utter crap.

“Which is worse, being called a dinosaur or a whale?” Panda’s weird question caught my attention.

Halo was the only one who bothered to answer. “I think . . . being called a whale?”

Sarah looked genuinely baffled. “I’m sorry, but where did that question come from?” she asked the Swedish girl.

“I just saw this one.” Panda held up a gold figurine. “It’s a nice whale.”

Sarah stared at her. “Panda, that’s a dolphin,” she corrected.

“Oh, it is?” Panda said blithely. “Well, it’s kind of hard to tell. You see, it’s painted gold,” she pointed out.

Sarah gave Panda an odd look for a second, then blinked away her haze. “Okay. Anyway, Emily,” she began, turning her attention to me and handing me a paper cup. “What are your plans for your final two days?”

The way she said ‘final two days’ sent a bigger chill to my already aching heart. I took a soothing sip of the cold tea. “Well, Naomi and I are gonna head off to Tokyo tomorrow,” I managed to reply casually. “Just a daytrip.”

“Perfect!” Halo exclaimed with a clap of her hands. “I have to be there for the convention too. We could go together. Yay!”

Zoe sidled up to me and rested her hand on my shoulder casually. “How ‘bout if we all go there and make a toast for Little Emily here?”

“Sounds like a whizzer idea to me!” Panda added, all giggly. Then she paused. “Wait. Where are we going again?”

Everyone else gave Panda a bewildered look, and for the first time inside that room, I let out a hearty laugh. Oh, well. As long as I was here with the girls, I might as well try to relax. I could play the part of the fun-loving Emily for one night. I could even spend an hour or two to teach Panda the differences between a dolphin and a whale.

It certainly couldn’t bother. At least not any worse than I was already bothered.

It took three hours and two trains for us to get to Tokyo. I stood against the brick wall of this posh hotel where Halo had checked in, waiting for the decision of the gang as to where we’re first heading. It was only three in the afternoon on a balmy Saturday. Too early for alcohol, we decided.

For a long while, I only watched them talking at once. It was ridiculous, really. We were only there for a quick daytrip and we had already wasted almost an hour just making our itinerary. I rubbed at the dull ache at the back of my neck; I was getting annoyed already.

What added to my annoyance was overhearing Cook and Freddie talking excitedly about the Lake Biwa fireworks display next weekend which, obviously, I wouldn’t be able to see. That had been the fourth time today I’ve heard about that fucking event.

Naomi came up to me, giving me a sweet hug. “Ems, why the long face? You all right, baby?”

I managed a smile, nodded, and hugged her back. She squeezed me tighter.

Halo suddenly spoke loudly. “Okay, those who want to go shopping, come with me.” Panda, Ayami, and Sarah sided with Halo.  

“Those who want to check out the Maid Café, follow me please,” Thomas said. Zoe, Ben, and Evan moved toward him. 

When they began arguing again, Naomi and I sneaked out of the scene and made our way toward an arcade building. We found a photo booth and went inside, incredibly happy to find some alone time.

“Okay. What’s bothering you this time?” Naomi asked automatically.

I sat heavily on the flat table-like surface inside the booth and sighed. “Everyone’s talking about the whole gang going to watch the Lake Biwa fireworks and it’s just sad I wouldn’t be there . . .”

Naomi took my hands then pulled me up to her, smiling soothingly. “Oh, c’mon, Em. It’s not like you’re gonna miss half of your life if you don’t see it.”

We stood in front of the camera and Naomi slotted some coins into the machine.

“I just want to be there next to you, you know,” I explained, “when you watch the whole . . . spectacle. I just want to share those sorts of experiences with you.”

“That’s so sweet, Emily,” Naomi said, pulling me closer to her and pressing a tender kiss on my lips. “And a tiny bit clingy, I have to add.”

“Well isn’t it that we promised to make epic memories together?”

She kissed me again. “I know,” she said, her hands sliding down to the small curve of my back. “But we’ve already made lots of it, Ems. And who needs the Lake Biwa fireworks when each moment with Emily Fitch is as spectacular as any fireworks display?” Then a blush overtook her cheeks and she looked away. “I can’t believe how corny that sounded. It was much better in my head.”

Chuckling, I grabbed the lapels of her black and white rocker chick-ish vest and made her look back at me. “I like you corny and sappy and smart arse-y and sloppy and bossy and jealous-y and grumpy and I-don't-ever-want-to-shut-my-mouth-y and every little thing that you are, Naomi Campbell.”

“Wow,” Naomi said sarcastically. “You're making me sound so likable, Emily.” Then she pushed some buttons at the small touch screen.

“Well those are just some of it, babe,” I told her, smirking. “I could go on and on with your likable characteristics.”

Naomi tugged my wrist, pulling me next to her in front of the camera. “Okay, then, does my list of likable characteristics include my excellent modelling skills?”

And, instantly, Naomi started striking these silly poses. “That other Naomi Campbell’s got nothing on me, you know,” she said in her usual figjam-y way. And soon her poses became sexier and sexier by the camera click. She looked drop-dead gorgeous in her outfit. Plus the fact that she was stunningly tall. I just stood there beside her, either giving her odd looks or staring at the snapping camera with a blank face. But Naomi only went on with her weird, almost slutty, facial expressions. Then I couldn’t stop myself anymore and burst out laughing. She followed after. The camera kept on clicking when suddenly the tarp curtain opened. Cook, Freddie, and Effy marched inside the booth.

“Hey, hey, hey! Aren’t ye lovebirds sharing the fun?” Cook exclaimed. “C’mon, my beloved freaks. Let’s do a wicked fivesome!”

Without waiting for our response, Cook put a couple of 100-yen coins into the machine and started doing these sleazy poses. We can only scowl at him and watch him as he made a total wanker of himself. Meanwhile Effy seemed to be enjoying fooling around with Freddie. Then all three of us girls began messing with the boys whilst the camera kept clicking. Then when the snapping ended, Cook, Naomi, and Effy took turns in designing the images.

We were all exhausted and still breathless from nonstop laughing when we got out of the booth. And since I had to go meet Misaki at Rainbow Bridge, Cook, Effy, Freddie, and Naomi walked me to the bus stop.

Just as Naomi and Freddie got engaged in a heated conversation about some political issue in East Asia—which actually reminded me how much I hated my course—my moby rang. I walked ahead of them—grateful to be able to get away from the nauseating discussion—and answered my phone.

“You are in so much trouble, Miss Emily Fitch,” said the voice on the other end of my mobile phone. Thankfully, the voice belonged to the energetic Cassandra Halfpenny. My loony best mate. How fucking timely.

“Cassie,” I said dryly. “What now?”

“Just checkin’.” She giggled.

“Right.”

“Are you okay, Emily?” Cassie asked, her tone suddenly concerned. “You sound fucking miserable.”

“I am,” I began, then sighed. I could just cry from the stress of it all—me leaving soon, me facing my mother again, me wanting to change courses, me dealing with the bleak future of my relationship with Naomi, and so on.

“Ems, I know you have the great talk with Prof. Heatherton coming up—”

“Cass, please,” I interrupted, “please don’t start about uni stuff. Really, I just can’t take any more right now.”

Cassie paused, cupping her hand over the mouth of the phone so I couldn’t hear what she was saying. “This isn’t about that, you cow. I kept asking you to call—why didn’t you?”

“Well, I’m sorry, Cass,” I said sarcastically. “We both know I’ve always been the thoughtful one between us two and I’ll let you know everything that I got on but it’s only been like—what—six hours? What else could we possibly need to talk about when you called me like seven times in two days?” I snorted a laugh.

She laughed, too. “Sorry, Em. I’m just too fucking excited to see my favourite midget. I’m simply thrilled that I have someone to watch How I Met Your Mother with again, you know.”

I glanced behind me and saw Naomi sitting under a waiting shed with the other three. She was watching me, as Cook and Freddie argued about something and Effy was just looking dead bored and thoroughly annoyed sitting between the two blokes. I shot Naomi an apologetic smile and held a finger up in a ‘Just give me a minute’ gesture. The blonde smiled and nodded her head in a ‘Go on, we don’t mind’ way. Then she joined in the animated conversation again.

“So, what’s the big news now?” I said. “Don’t tell me it’s about Katie and how she treats people like shit or how Brooke won’t stop bugging you to tell her why she suddenly couldn’t find me in her Friends list on Facebook. Those are not exactly newsflash-material, you know.”

“Nope,” she said, chuckling a little. “I’ve got a couple of good ones.” She paused for effect as I held my breath. “So, three nights ago, I came over to your house and over dinner your dad asked me what could possibly make you absolutely happy and I told him a puppy would—a Westie, to be exact—because that’s what you’ve been fucking babbling about all summer last year, yea? So then Rob said he will—oh, shit—I totally just blurted it out, hadn’t I? Fuck. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Don’t tell your dad I spilled the beans.”

I cracked up. “Oh, my God, Cass. That’s what I terribly miss about you, you ’mare.”

“Oh, shit, shit, shit. Me and my big gob.”

“Correction: big and dirty gob,” I said, chuckling. “Anyway, what’s the second good news?”

“I already made a list for our possible summer jobs. And they’re all fucking brill.” She sang out the ‘brill’ part.

“How gracious of you, Miss Halfpenny,” I said, genuinely pleased. “But please cross out anything that involves sending out flyers. I’ve had enough of that last summer. I swear, my biceps got hideously big after that.”

Cassie laughed. “Roger that,” she said. “And speaking of biceps . . .”

“Oh, Jesus, Cass, what are you doing now?”

“Just flipping my fabulous hair around and flashing my disarming smile like I’m at a press conference,” she said. “But like I’d say to the media—no comment.”

“So you’re not gonna tell me anything?” I asked, wondering what—or whom—Cassie was doing over there.

“Let’s just put it this way: ‘Tis the season for flings. And I might just have a couple.”

“You are such a slapper,” I said with good-natured disgust.

She only laughed. “Anyway, I gotta run. I’ll call you again, ‘kay? Ciao, hobbit!”

“Who’s there with you?” I said, but Cassie had already clicked off, being the quick hanger upper that she was.

Then someone huggled me. “Emily,” Naomi said, leaning her chin on my shoulder. “Your bus is coming.”

We walked back toward the bus stop, and I gave Naomi a chaste kiss on the lips before hopping on the bus. I flipped my phone open and started typing a message.

 

 

Ready for that walk, Misaki? See you at Rainbow Bridge in 30 mins! E xX

A smile curled my lips when I pressed the Send button.

I believed in keeping promises.

And it’s about time I take Misaki for that long-overdue walk.

“Do you want to go over the list again?”

I nodded. “Uhm-hmm. Please.”

“Okay,” Misaki said sweetly. Just twenty minutes ago I received a not-so-surprising-anymore-‘cos-Cassie-leaked-it-beforehand phone call from Dad telling me that he bought me a puppy—a West Highland White Terrier or Westie, like what Cassie had said—as my HEP graduation gift, and Misaki and I excitedly made a list for the dog’s possible names.

“Wait, first I need some licorice.” I bought an industrial-sized bag of Twizzlers Rainbow Twists, one of the best candies on the face of the planet, and we’ve been eating them the whole way across the north walkway of the Rainbow Bridge.

Misaki read from the piece of paper. “Cho Cho, Whoopsy Doo like Scooby Doo’s cousin, Obi Wan—”

“Cannot be,” I jokingly filled in, then made a face. Giggling, Misaki poked my cheek with the cap of her pen.

“Obi Wan Kenobi,” Misaki repeated, pointing to each idea with a pen. “Bruno, Dingo, Rumbo—”

“Wait—stop there,” I said, holding up my palm to her. “Cross those off. I can’t stand the names. They sound like Danny’s tosser bunch of mates.”

Misaki laughed at my scowling face. “You’re so picky, Emily-chan,” she said. “Okay, continuing: Mr. Dog, Snowy since your puppy’s white, Mojito, Bad—short for Bad-Ass Dog, but it sounds so . . . bad.” She pursed her lips. “Anyway, how about Sugiyama?”

“How about not?” I said, and thwacked Misaki with my licorice.

We had a brief candy duel, and then I looked out at the view. The sun started its slow decline, the sky shifted into a multicoloured wash of yellows, peaches, and pink.

“The view is awesome—in the true sense of the word,” I said, gazing at the twilit landcape—the orange sky hovering above the Tokyo Tower and the sparkling harbour. The lights from the skyscrapers and boats illuminated the calm water. “Wow.”

“I still have half an hour before I return you to your girlfriend. Just focus on this and stop fidgeting,” Misaki said. “Another one we came up with was Baby Cinnamon.”

I wrinkled my nose and Misaki copied me. “Why can’t I think of a decent puppy name? I have read thousands of books and couldn’t get out a single one?”

“I know you’ll think of a great name. You just need to close your eyes and think of it. In fact, I’m going to close my eyes right now . . .” Misaki leant against the bridge railing peacefully as I looked around the place looking for words that could pass as my Westie’s name. Nothing puppy-esque.

I closed my eyes, thinking that Misaki could probably be right. And, boy, was she right. My eyes flew open.

“Misaki,” I said. “Misaki-chan.” I elbowed her lightly, and she opened a sleepy eye. “I got it.” She only looked at me in anticipation. “Oz. Just Oz.” 

“Oz,” she repeated softly, smiling.

“Yes, Oz,” I said. “Like the ‘oz’ in The Wizard of Oz.”

The Japanese girl squinted at me. “You know you can’t fool me.”

“I know.”

“It’s always been about her, hasn’t it?”

I gave a half-shrug. “What else could it be about?” I said quietly. Then I turned my gaze back to the waves below us and let out a sad sigh.

Misaki whirled and stood directly beside me, then she rested her elbows on the railing and turned to look at me completely. “But why do I feel like there’s something bothering you? Are you having doubts, Emily-chan?”

“I’m very sure of how I feel about Naomi, you know. The only thing is . . . how do I say this? I really think—or I am afraid, rather—I’m not the right person for a long-distance thing.”

“Why don’t you follow her to Australia then?” Misaki suggested, taking a plastic bottle of Coke from her bag and opening it. “I mean, you’ve been talking about wanting to change courses, right? Why don’t you apply to her university? That way, you can be with her all the time.”

I rolled my eyes flippantly. “Yea, right.”

“Or you two could apply to Hamada U,” she went on, taking a sip of her soda. “You could finish your undergraduate studies here, and since Naomi will be graduating soon, she could apply for a master’s degree or look for a job here.”

I snorted. “Yea, like that would be possible.”

“Why not?”

“My mum,” I said simply. “That’s why not.”

Misaki toyed with the bottle in her hand. “But it seems like there’s real—oh, what’s that word?—some word that means future but not future. Iitaikoto wakaru deshou (You know what I’m trying to say)?”

“You mean we have real potential?”

“Exactly,” she said. “Can’t you see it? You and Naomi, crunching through the leaves of Hamada U? You dropping by my apartment and the three of us playing Jenga . . .” She laughed and I joined in.

“Sounds nice,” I said.

Both images sounded nice. More than nice. Awesome. Great. Life changing. Me and Naomi in the same uni, drinking in a coffee shop and talking about our past, our present, and our future. And then, too, I could totally see myself and Naomi hanging out, awkwardness-free, with Misaki. But just because I could picture it doesn’t mean I could experience it—at least not at the moment when I have a monster of a mother who would go ballistic at anything Naomi-related. Right now, I was just scared, confused—no, ‘lost’ was the more appropriate adjective.

“It’s so typical,” I said with a sigh. “I meet a girl who rocks my world and she lives light-years away from me.”

“Emily-chan, Australia’s hardly Mars.”

“You know what I mean.”

“What does Naomi think will happen?” Misaki probed.

“She seems to think we’ll see each other during long holidays and she’ll try to Skype with me or call me every day, but it’s just . . . oh, I don't know.” I rubbed my eyes. “I’m going to be insanely busy with uni and she’s kidding herself if she thinks she’ll have time for me given that she’s in her busiest year. I hate not knowing what will happen.”

“Well, you can only wait and see,” Misaki said sensibly.

“But I hate that,” I blurted out like a spoiled child. “It messes with my head. Why can’t I know now?”

“’Cos you can’t,” Misaki shrugged helplessly. “That’s life, isn’t it?”

“Ugh,” I grunted. “I just want to stop feeling like a fucking lovesick puppy. It’s pathetic.”

“Oh, I know you just love it.” Misaki laughed at my scowling face. “So when can you come back?” she asked. “I mean, I would really—”

My phone rang.

“Chotto matte (Hold on), Misaki,” I said. “Wait. Hold that thought, seriously.”

I flipped my phone open and answered. It was Naomi telling me that I better go back to Halo’s hotel room soon. The gang’s already getting ready to head for this famous Tokyo pub where I would have my good-bye toast.

“Sounds like I have to let you go now,” the pretty Japanese girl said, smiling sadly.

“Won’t you really be joining us for the toast?” I asked yet again. “Seriously, you have to be there, Misaki.”

“I’d really love to, Emily-chan,” she said, with a rueful smile. “But I have to hop on a train in less than an hour. And I don’t really feel like crying tonight.” She chuckled lightly and I smiled.

She nudged my arm with her elbow playfully. “But keep me posted, okay?”

“Would you be upset if I say it will take a while before I could come back?” I said. “There’s a bunch of things I need to work on back there in Bristol.”

“More than just dealing with the long-distance thing, you mean?”

“Yea,” I said, peering down into the dark water below us. “More than that.”

Misaki’s voice was unbearably gentle. “I won’t ever stop missing you, just so you know.”

That brought a smile to my face. “I like the way you said that.”

“Good,” she said. “You can put it in a Book of Quotations someday.”

I laughed. And we shared a very long, warm, sweet hug.

“Hey.” I saw Naomi leaning against the doorjamb of my room with a faint smile.

Hastily wiping the tears from my eyes, I gave her a sweet smile. “Hey.”

Naomi took a step forward and closed the door quietly behind her. “I see you’re getting all ready.” In the faint light of my lampshade, I could see her expression. All her tangled emotions were showing in her face, above all a little-girl-left-behind sort of ache.

I nodded my head, then tore my eyes away from her and directed them back to my luggage again. I couldn’t look at her downcast face or I’d burst into tears all over again.

Naomi took a seat on the carpeted floor next to me and picked one of my T-shirts up. Peripherally, I saw her bring it to her cheek and brushed the cotton fabric gently against her skin then took a long whiff of it. I was trying so hard to swallow back the massive lump forming in my throat, trying so hard to blink back tears. It was just so difficult seeing the two of us like this.

Naomi took the printed plane ticket sticking out of the pocket of my tote bag. Gingerly she fingered the folded piece of paper. “This is really happening,” she said quietly, almost a whisper.

I caught sight of her pig shirt mixed up with my clothes on the floor. I took it, then turned to the blonde. “Can I keep this?” I asked, just as quiet. The heartbreaking silence around the room was undeniable.

Naomi only briefly gazed at it, then she tore her eyes away from me again. She nodded.

“I mean, I know I gave it to you, babe, but I just thought I needed a—” My voice rose, trembled, broke.

She only nodded silently, refusing to look at me.

For long quiet moments, Naomi and I simply folded and put my clothes into my luggage. I couldn’t help but notice her trembling hands, quivering lips, and glassy eyes as well. I knew she was having as hard a time as me.

I picked the last piece of garment up and placed it onto the heap of clothes when Naomi gently rested her hand on top of mine. I looked at her then, and our pained gazes locked. And for a while, our only movement was that of our eyes as each surveyed the face of the other. A few, very few, seconds ticked by before our breathing became audible and the first tear spilled over from the blonde’s eye.

I lifted a hand to tenderly wipe it off. I felt her shiver slightly at the feel of my skin.

“Naomi,” I began, breaking a silence that was stretching depressingly too long. But I couldn’t find words to say afterward.

Then suddenly Naomi climbed to her feet, and she took my hands and pulled me up to her. And we were soon locked in a passionate embrace.

Her hands gently skimmed up and down my back, her mouth soft against my ear. I clung onto her neck and brushed my lips against the butter-soft skin of her shoulder.

When we drew back, she took my hand. I sucked in a breath. I knew that grip so well. The kind of grip that was inviting and promising passion. Slowly she tugged me toward the bed.

I shivered, half in nervousness, half in anticipation.

Yet all of my qualms, all thoughts of anything, disappeared when she touched me, lowered me carefully to the bed then slowly tugged my shirt off. She stroked her fingers across the swell of my breasts above my bra, and I felt my body tighten.

Then she unfastened my bra, cupped them in her gentle hands. For a long moment she simply looked at me. And then, with a nip of her bottom lip that was somehow flattering, she released me, took her own tank top off and came down on the bed beside me. She was beautiful.

Then she pulled me against her. I sucked in another breath as I felt her warm, silken skin against my body. Her hands were everywhere, softly stroking, carefully caressing, and her gentle mouth soon followed the same path. She kissed down my stomach as her hands continued to stroke every sensitive place on my body. I let out a muffled cry, was gasping under the onslaught of sensations. I couldn’t do anything else but just fairly writhe beneath her, taking sheer pleasure from the blonde’s sweet invasion.

She unfastened my jeans and tugged at them; without hesitation I lifted myself to help her.

Naomi shucked her denim shorts along with her knickers. She fumbled with them for a moment, then dropped them to the floor. I barely noticed; I was unabashedly staring at her.

Beautiful, I thought, isn’t even the word for it.

She turned back to me, dressed only in her necklace and the bracelet I gave her, and suddenly those were the sexiest things I’d ever seen. I watched her move, fascinated by the play of feminine muscles under her milky, flawless skin, and more than a little awed by the perfect curves of her body. My lower body clenched, as if already wishing she was there to clasp, to hold.

Instinctively my hand moved, my fingers curling, almost aching to touch her. But I pulled back, uncertain.

Naomi took my hand and guided it to her face, gently shaping my fingers on her soft cheek. Then she leant over and kissed me softly. I kissed back just as meticulously. It was a very slow, yet very passionate melding of our mouths. It was as if we were sharing our last kiss—each brushing of lips, each change in angle, each collision of tongues, each grazing of noses were all thorough. It was perfect, filled with love, ardor and reverence, and was so different from all our other kisses that it drove tears from my eyes.

My hands curved around her buttocks. The combination of heat, sweet scent, soft brushing of her skin, and desire made my head swim. I dug my fingers into her lower back, unconsciously begging, my body arching against her.

Then her fingers started a lower journeying. I swept in a breath, then twisted beneath her as the sensual exploration of her magical fingers was matched by a soft stroking of her tongue in my mouth.

She gripped my hand, pinning it down over my head, and interlaced our fingers. Then she dipped her head again to kiss my neck, my cheeks, my lips, as her other hand continued its sweet work.

I knew I could weaken her with tears. But I couldn’t help it. They just fell silently. It was just a tangle of emotions. It felt so good to be in Naomi’s arms, making love to her with such sweetness, gentleness and unrestrained passion. But at the same time I was aware that this could be our last—like the last great meal before the electric chair. And I thought if this was indeed the last one then it should be . . . unforgettable.

Naomi stopped, drew back slightly and gazed down at me, her eyes softly questioning.

I brushed a stray lock of blond hair off her face then smiled up at her, even as tears flowed. She smiled back. Then her magical fingers kept on, and I held on. I gasped softly, certain I was going to lose my tenuous grip on her, and thus the world.

She made a circular motion then, and I felt an unbearable pleasure. I moaned, unable to stop the sound. She caressed me again, this time slowing withdrawing. I felt my body clench, trying to keep her, trying to hold her.

She swirled her finger over that bundle of nerves one more time, and before the incredible sensation could fade, she buried her magic in me.

I didn’t lose my hold on the world, it exploded around me. My body convulsed. It wanted to curl in on itself, so violent were the waves of pleasure. But Naomi was there, holding me, so all I could do was curl around her.

And when I came back to earth, Naomi was there, and she caught me, held me, cradled me against her. Nothing could be too wrong if I was with her.

After the delicious exhaustion, I took my turn. I levered myself on top of her this time, still breathing unevenly. Just looking at her beautiful face was enough to leave me breathless. She looked so majestic—the beads of sweat on her neck and chest, her blonde hair disheveled on the sheets, and her blue eyes, vulnerable yet eager.

Then she took my hand and guided me toward her pleasure. And all of it was more than sensual delight, it was also a promise of our love. That we could give each other the energy and certainty that we couldn’t find for ourselves.

I lay naked in her arms, waiting. There was no urgency. I drifted in and out of sleep listening to the voices of old Japanese people and the very few passing cars in the distance, content with the memory of the tone of her voice, the taste of her lips, and the touch of her hands.

I knew nothing about the future but I was certain Naomi Campbell was the one—the one who could understand my necessities, wrap my insecurities in a blanket of her strength, love me in ways unimaginable. At that moment I was sure I had everything.

It was the first and only time I really felt that I had everything.

I lay pillowed in the angle between her arm and breast, smelling the sweet mix of her perfume and satisfied desire. It was six in the morning. We had made love for hours. Silently, surprisingly. Our previous love-makings were, well, freakish, but this one was completely different—we just let ourselves . . . feel. We tried to sleep, but kept thinking of things we wanted to say to each other, wanted to do to each other, wanted to make each other feel for the last time. We savoured the remaining hour just being together—not wanting even a millimetre separating us, not wanting to let go. But I missed hearing her sweet voice, her soft giggles so I ventured for a little chat.

“Don’t you just love summer romamce, babe?”

Naomi giggled softly. “You know, you should stop saying romamce. It will grow on me, I swear.”

“Well, I want everything I say and everything I do to grow on you.”

“And I’d end up despising myself,” she quipped.

“Piss off,” I said, half smiling. Then I moved my head closer to her, nuzzling her neck with my nose. Naomi’s fingers were tracing patterns on my bare stomach. We stayed silent for a few moments.

“Em?” Naomi suddenly spoke, her voice languid and soft.

“Hm?”

Her thumb was gently soothing. “I love you,” she said softly. “This past few days had been incredible. I hope we have a thousand others like it when we see each other again. Have it more often. Like everyday.” I grinned inwardly.

“Thousands? Everyday?” I repeated, incredulous. “I’d be dead in a month.”

Naomi only laughed.

I chuckled with her, then moved my head so I could look up at her. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“Are you going to make me stay longer,” I said, stroking her hair gently, “here with you?”

I loved the movement of her lips against my hair. “Umm.”

“I could be talked into it,” I told her, whispering. “I could, you know, miss the flight. Tell Mum and Dad I got sick or something.”

“Yea, and when they find out you lied, your mum will hate me more. If that’s even possible.”

“My mother doesn’t hate you.”

She rolled her eyes then snorted. “Oh, c’mon, Ems. Please.”

“I really think she’d love you,” I said. “Once she really gets to meet you. Once she sees the amazing person you truly are. Just refrain from scowling, okay, babe?”

Naomi’s brow arched. “Oh, so you’re saying I’m cranky?”

I smirked. “You’re a grumpy ol’ Grams, like what Cook said.”

“Speaking of the Irish wanker,” Naomi began with a serious tone, throwing her head back to the pillow, the early morning sunlight glinting in her eyes. “I asked Cook to help you with your luggage.” Her gaze was still fixed on the ceiling and her voice was almost croaking. “Ems, I can’t see you leave, you know. I don’t think I—I . . .” She trailed off. A tear spilled over, glimmering in the shifting light.

“It’s okay,” I said, and her vulnerability brought tiny tears to my eyes.

“I just want to keep this memory that you just left the bed. Seeing you leave and waving goodbye is just . . . unbearable.” Her eyes were shining with unshed tears.

My eyes brimmed and overflowed. I couldn’t help it. Her fragility touched me. I sniffled.

Naomi then turned to look at me. “You’re crying again!” she teased, and pinched my red nose.

“So are you!” I shot back. And despite our tangled emotions, we laughed.

“Okay, let’s cry together,” Naomi decided. And we did. Through laughter, we did.

But even as tears dried, the ominous thought of the airport shuttle taxi arriving in a little while felt like a searing dagger to my heart. I tried not to look when the bedside clock clicked over another minute; I knew it wouldn’t be long, knew it all too well. I bet the girl in my arms had been feeling the same way too as we both seemed to be holding our breaths just waiting for the dreadful announcement, just waiting for the ‘Time’s up.’ And it came sooner than we had both expected.

“Emily-chan?” Ayami called with a knock on my door. “Your taxi will be here in five minutes.”

I squeezed my eyes shut very briefly, and let out a sigh.

Ayami called again. “Emily? Get ready, okay?”

“Hai (Okay),” I called back, rather shakily. Naomi then untangled herself from me, and I instantly shuddered from the memory of her warm and smooth skin.

I dragged myself up from the bed, and tugged a shirt over my head. Picking up my jeans from the floor, I resisted the urge to look at the blonde sitting on my bed. The room was depressingly silent, as I fastened my jeans. I gave a last swipe to my hair with my fingers but didn’t try to smooth it completely; I hoped it would be a remembrance of how the blonde’s hands tangled with it just moments ago.

When I turned to face Naomi again, she was staring out the window—biting her lip, obviously fighting tears. Seeing her in this state made my heart hurt even more than it already did. It was the most difficult thing I ever had to do. To walk out that door. To leave her alone in my bed.

The door opened. “Emilio,” Cook called, “ye all set?”

I nodded silently then glanced at the blonde again. Naomi wrapped her arms around her knees, and tried to look anywhere but at me or the door.

Seeing the grave situation in the room, Cook took my luggage and swiftly left the room.

I took my tote bag from the desk and slung it over one shoulder, then I moved toward the bed and leant over Naomi to give her one last kiss on the cheek. I felt her shudder, saw her mouth quiver, noticed the stray tear that fell, took in the heaving of her chest.

“Naomi?” I said quietly.

“I’m fine,” she whispered. “Fine.” She wiped the tears from her face. “See?”

Fighting the desire to wrap her in my arms and comfort her, I straightened up and pulled my eyes away from hers as she struggled with keeping her tears in place. With a heavy heart, I made my way to the door.

It was when I closed the door behind me that I heard her burst into loud, terrible sobs.

And it killed me. Hot, sad tears fell on the carpeted floor as I walked down the hallway.

Wiping the tears off my face, I managed to flash a sweet smile at the bunch of people gathered outside the dorm. I have such great friends, I thought, and it brought a genuine smile to my face.

“Be a good girl an’ send my sloppy kisses to yer sister, will ye?” Cook said, as he placed my luggage into the trunk of the car. “And remember, Emilio, it’s only hard at first but it gets better. So just hang on there, yea?”

I nodded, then smiled my gratitude to Cook and gave him a hug.

“Au revoir, Rouge,” Freddie said, stretching his arms out, and I dutifully slipped into them. “Remember what I told you? You’re a gem.”

Sarah came up behind me and placed a hand on my shoulder. “’Twas a short yet very sweet semester with you here, Emily.”

“One helluva semester, you mean,” Zoe broke in, grinning, dimples showing. Then she ruffled my hair. “Do me a favour. If you and Naomi—you know—if this whole long-distance thingy doesn’t work out for you, give me a call—”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “Oh, give those joined-at-the-hip lovers a break, Zoe.”

“I’m just sayin’!” Zoe laughed, and I dealt her a playful punch on the arm. Then I reached out and pulled the two girls over to me in an affectionate, three-way bear hug. They both laughed at my mushiness.

“You sure you got everything in there?” Sarah asked, as Cook slammed the trunk closed. The Korean girl truly deserved the new Head of House position.

“I got all my clothes and books. I have Blue Poring. I got my girlfriend’s favourite T-shirt too,” I answered. “So I guess that is everything.” But I sounded unsure, and somehow empty. “At least everything I can bring home with me, now,” I added sadly.

It was no wonder I seemed empty, no wonder I felt as if I had forgotten something. I was returning home without my girlfriend, without the knowledge that she’d be waiting eagerly by the door and welcome me with her delightful pancakes, without the comfort of her sweet smile and loving kiss. I might have everything I was supposed to have packed up in my luggage, but I knew that I had a hollow spot in my heart.

Finally, it was Panda’s turn to say goodbye. She was sobbing loudly. “Emsy, I will miss you.” She hugged me tightly, tears streaming down her face. “I will miss you so, so much.”

I hugged her back, saying, “I’ll miss you too, Pandora. Thank you . . . for being such a super duper amazing friend.” She chuckled through tears, and I couldn’t stop another round of tears that fell. Panda had been one of those people whom I considered my constant source of strength, companionship, and happiness.

Thomas moved toward me and put a hand on my arm. “Are you gonna be okay, Emily?” he asked softly.

I nodded. “The best thing I could do after landing in Bristol is to throw myself into summer jobs and schoolwork—God knows I have enough catching up to do. Maybe I’ll be too busy to think about . . . well, about anything else,” I said, making my voice strong. “But thanks for asking, Thomas.” I gave him a hug. “You take care and stay normal, ’kay? I’ll bet you’re going to set an Olympic track record one day—if you’re not too busy running the whole United States, or some other brilliant thing.” Then, lowering my voice so he alone could hear, I added, “And you better make Pandora your First Lady or Halo and I will be camping outside the White House with bloody pitchforks.”

“Okay,” Thomas said with a laugh. “I’m keeping my fingers crossed.”

And when I saw Effy standing there, the tears doubled. “Ef,” I croaked. The brunette moved toward me, smiling. “Effy, you twat,” was all I could say. The brunette hugged me then. It was a very warm, very tender embrace that even if she didn’t say anything, you could just feel everything she wanted to convey.

“Nice running into you here, Emily Fitch,” Effy said, when she released me. “Come visit me in Florida. I have a bigger windowsill there.” A teasing smile crept across her gorgeous features.

“Thanks, Ef,” I said. “I’m sure I’ll be taking you up on that.”

Chuckling from the cosiness and cheesiness of it all, I wiped the tears from my eyes with the back of my hand and surveyed the building for the last time, trying to memorise how it looked, trying to take a mental shot of the place where I had found temporary bliss and met people who turned my life around 180°. My gaze wandered to the topmost floor and I saw my curtains open. I spotted Naomi watching me by the window. Despite the distance, I saw her tear-streaked face, her pained expression, her shaking shoulders. She looked as if she was dangerously close to being torn into pieces. And it broke my heart some more seeing her like this. Our gazes locked for a moment until the blonde abruptly turned her back and was swiftly out of sight.

I held onto the open car door, blinking back more tears. I had to hold it together, or I would look like a proper mess wandering around Kansai Airport. It was just so hard to conceive the thought of being away from Naomi, when she was always in my thoughts, when she was the one who made me feel complete.

“Emily!”

I whirled around and was instantly caught in Naomi’s tight embrace.

“Ems, I can’t,” she sobbed, and I hugged her back just as tight. “I just can’t take it. I can’t.”

Naomi then moved her hands upward, cradled my head in them and kissed me ever so passionately. When she drew back, I found myself grabbing the neckline of her shirt and pulling her toward me. I kissed her almost fiercely, trying to memorise the way her lips felt on mine, the scent of her shampoo, the soft pressure of her palms on my back. I couldn’t help wondering how many kisses we had left.

“Emily,” she said, her breath shallow. “Say something.”

I was also a little breathless. “There’s no expiration date on my feelings, if that’s what you needed to hear.”

It brought a smile to her well-kissed lips. “That’s just everything I needed to hear.” She pressed a kiss on my mouth again, then she reached inside the back pocket of her shorts. “And—uhm—here . . .” She took out a folded-up piece of light blue paper and handed it to me. “I wrote you something.”

I took it, incredibly surprised. “Thank you,” I sniffled.

“You know how lame I am with words so my apologies in advance if it’s rather corny.” Embarrassment coloured her delicate features.

I let out a chuckle, touched by my girlfriend’s sweetness. My eyeliner was probably streaming down my face, but it didn’t matter.

The blonde’s eyes were swimming with tears too. “I will miss you.”

“I will miss you more.” I hugged her and dropped a soft kiss on her lips.

“Oh, God, babe, we’re so girly,” Naomi said, scrunching up her nose. And we started giggling again. She pinched my red nose.

“Abnormally mushy, yes,” I said, and gave her another tight, sweet hug.

Putting the letter into my pocket, I climbed into the backseat of the taxi. Naomi closed the door for me. I rolled down the window and shone her the most loving smile I could give, despite my hurting heart.

Naomi leant through the open window and touched her hand to my cheek. “I love you,” she said, pressing her lips to mine for another sweet, lingering kiss.

“I love you, too,” I said. When she pulled back, I took her hand and pressed a gentle kiss on it, not wanting to let go of her, not wanting to stop being with her. But I knew I had to, and when I released her hand, I felt like everything around me, everything in me froze all so suddenly.

I took one last look at Naomi’s face, then willed myself not to glance over my shoulder as the driver stepped on the accelerator.

So that was it, I thought miserably, numbly staring at the road ahead. I suppose I would have to get myself a map and draw a straight line.

“Are you going to read that, or just stare at that, love?” the friendly-looking old man sitting next to me suddenly spoke.

Flushing, I wiped my aching eyes and turned to him, smiling weakly. But my throat was too lumpy for words.

He smiled back. “The letter won’t open by itself, you know?”

I bit my upper lip and gave him a nod. A nod of encouragement from the old man then he was back to his nap.  

I unfolded the paper in my hands and started to read:

A chuckle escaped my lips.

I felt tears gathering behind my eyes again.

My eyes welled up. Me too, Naomi, I thought miserably. Me, too.

I disobeyed her and let the tears stream down my face. I miss her already. I couldn’t help it.

 I laughed then because she was right.

Pocketing the letter, I let myself sink deeper into my seat and then looked out the tiny airplane window to see where I was—still above the clouds, the land out of sight below me.

“It wasn’t easy, was it?” the old man spoke again, looking sideways at me.

I regarded my fellow Bristolian and nodded.

“A certain boy?”

“A certain girl, sir,” I said, half smiling. “An amazing girl.”

There was a humourous twinkle in his grey eyes. “Funny,” he said wistfully, “I could swear I had met that certain girl.”

I only looked at him with a puzzled face.

He smiled gently then. “You must care about her immensely, eh? I can just see it in your eyes.”

“I do,” I said, gazing down at the blonde’s adorable loopy handwriting. “I love her. More than anything, mister.” A stray tear snaked down my cheek.

“Go on, sweetheart,” he said softly, closing his eyes again. “Make her feel that.”

I didn’t say anything back. I just looked out the window at the padded sky, each cloud illuminated, and thought about how wise old people truly were. I took a pen and a piece of paper from my tote bag.

 . . . . . .

So here I am trying to write this letter.

I stared out of the tiny window, nibbled the pen. What can I say?

Ten months ago, we hadn’t even met.

Ten months ago, I was a different person.

Ten months ago, I didn’t know I could be this . . . complete.