Halfway Valentine | Special 3: "Chasing Campbell"

“Chasing Campbell”

“Hey, there, sexy,” I said by way of greeting as Naomi walked inside the room. I was sitting on the bed, reading a hair-raising WWII memoir written by a Japanese soldier whilst massaging my ankle.

“Hey, yourself.” Naomi glanced around the room. “I smell Fitch salad.”

“There’s a nice bowl waiting for you over there.” I pointed to the wooden desk with a lift of my chin. “What took you so long? Isn’t it that your last class was cancelled today?”

She crossed the room toward the desk. “Yep. Dropped by Family Mart to pay our phone bills and went to the postal office to drop off a postcard for Grandpa,” she said. “What about you, babe? What kept you busy?” She picked up a fork and took a leaf of lettuce.

I uncapped a small bottle of massage oil and poured some onto my ankle. “Just some advanced reading. And self-therapy.” I went on kneading the throbbing muscle.

She dropped her canvas bag onto the table and mumbled through a chunk of avocado, “You can relax for a bit now, Em. I’ll work on your foot in a little while.”

With a tiny pleased smile, I stopped mid-motion and lifted my head up to look at my fair-haired goddess.

Wind had disheveled her hair, turning into a riot of golden waves, which curled up enticingly at the ends. Bright spots of colour filled her cheeks and her blue eyes sparkled. I wanted to drag her into my arms and make love to her before doing anything else, but she seemed somewhat distracted . . . and sickened?

Glancing up, Naomi looked around the room. “Oh, God. Now this room reeks of a concoction of expired yoghurt drinks. What is that weird thing you’re using?” Scrunching up her nose, she moved toward me, picked up the small bottle of gooey orange liquid from the bedside table and studied it as if it were a disease.

“It’s some Japanese herbal healing oil my classmate gave me. It’s supposed to work a miracle and get rid of the pain in no time.”

She wincingly dropped the bottle back on the table. “Why the rush? Healing takes time, you know.”

“Well, I wasn’t able to go shopping with you the other day, wasn’t able to go parading with you with the butt-naked old Japanese men the other night during the fire festival, didn’t get to join you and the girls last night at Blackout either,” I said. “If you’re going to keep leaving me, I’m going to have to get myself fit enough to chase you.”

The blonde smirked. “You’ve got a long way to go, hun. I’m pretty fast.”

I examined my left foot. “Yea,” I agreed soberly, and Naomi sat on the edge of the bed by me, wrapped her arms around me and kissed me hard on the mouth. “And what was that for?” I asked, a little surprised.

She arched one brow. “For being so pathetically cute,” she said. “And, Ems, I thought I made it clear that there’s no more running away, all right?”

“I know.” I slipped my arms around her and pressed my face into the crispness of her pastel purple top. She didn’t move, apart from brushing her lips along my hair. “I like this,” I murmured.

“Mmm. Same.” She hugged me closer.

We stayed that way for long seconds. I drank in her scent, recalling the soft white curves of her flesh she had lain across me in bed. Finally, I asked softly, “What do you suppose we should do next?”

“Hot make-out in the mini pond outside?”

“With my Little Emilies?” My shoulders shook with soundless laughter. “Ew. No.”

“Then how about hot make-out here? In this very bed. Our warm, big bed.”

“Before dinner? What would our next-door neighbour say?”

“Jessica’s not here. She has her hot date with this Japanese rocker, and besides, she already knows we’re just completely unsalvageable in that department,” she said, and I laughed, my day still getting brighter even though it was nearly twilight.

I drew back just enough to look into Naomi’s face. “Tell you what, babe, let me put this food together for a change. You’ve been cooking for me every day. It’s about time I treat you.”

She raised her brows smugly, obviously pleased. “So I’m your queen for the night?”

“My flaxen-haired queen for the night, yes.” I pressed a tender kiss on her mouth. “And perhaps for a few nights more if Your Majesty pleases.” I planted another soft kiss that made her shudder a little. “We can eat right here. And then . . . ?” I left the thought unfinished.

“How about a joint shower?” she suggested. “Or a dip in that weird-looking egg-shaped tub together?”

I put a hand gently on her face and smiled. “First things first. Bring out the plates and let’s get this little party started.”

The telephone rang before Naomi could respond. I reached for the receiver, and the blonde slipped out of my arms to move to the desk and resume eating her bowl of salad.

“Miss Fitch?” The high-pitched female voice undoubtedly belonged to our forty-five-year-old-and-still-very-single dorm manager, Miss Mitsui.

“Yes, Mitsui-san?”

“We have been informed that you have a pet dog in your room for a while now.”

I sat upright in bed. “Yes.” My gaze flicked to Naomi. Her mouth tightened, and she gave an upset shake of her head, clearly aware of the phone call’s purpose as well.

“I have to let you know that pets are not allowed in the dorm premises, Miss Fitch.”

“But it wasn’t said in the guidebook that it’s prohibited. Nor in the dorm rules at the lobby.”

“I’m sorry, but you have to find some other place for your dog. Some residents are complaining about the noise.”

“Oz is only a puppy,” I protested. “He cannot survive without me. And besides, my girlfriend—I mean, my roommate is okay with it. You can even ask her.”

“I deeply apologise but—”

“I brought Oz all the way here from England, Miss Mitsui,” I tried for the last time. “What do you suppose I do with him?”

“I’m really sorry, Miss Fitch,” the lady said with finality in her tone, “but there are rules and you just have to abide by them. We hope to hear no more of the same complaints in the following days. Thank you.”

As soon as I replaced the receiver, I turned to Naomi, my face red with infuriation. “For Pete’s sake! He’s a little puppy. What the fuck are they thinking?”

“So Oz can’t stay here?” Naomi said quietly, casting a despairing look at the innocent puppy who was busy eating a bowl of salad in his cage.

“Yes. Apparently, it’s prohibited. I mean, what the fuck? What do they suggest I do with the poor puppy? Chuck him out? Leave him in a homeless animal shelter? Put him up for adoption? Chrissakes.”

Naomi went silent. And in that silence, a brilliant thought seemed to pop into her brain. “I’ve got an idea,” she said, biting her lip. “Perhaps he can stay in Misaki’s apartment? We could just pop round every day after class to check up on him and bring him food. Take him out for a jog on weekends . . .”

My frown broke into a smile. “Right,” I said thoughtfully. “You’re right. That would be okay, wouldn’t it?”

“Of course. I don’t think Misaki will see that as a problem.”

“And you won’t see it as a problem?”

Naomi’s expression was instantly severe. “Ems . . .”

“Okay, okay,” I said, smirking. “I’m just joking. It’s just surprising that you, of all people, would suggest that.”

“Babe, you know the deal,” she said soberly, “I see you fooling around with other girls and you’re out of this room and out of my life. No plea bargaining. No gift-giving. No sweet-talking. No peace-offering of Fitch salad. You can kiss my eye.”

I lifted my brows. “So I have the option to kiss your eye?”

Her mouth turned down at the corners. “Emily.”

“I know, I know,” I said quickly. “And the same deal applies to you.” I then stood up from the bed, smiled sweetly, and moved toward her with a bit difficulty. “I love you.”

Naomi softened then. “I love you, too,” she echoed, moving toward me.

We stood looking at each other, giggling giddily. And it was just so easy. Easy to be with Naomi. Easy to be happy with Naomi. Easy to be happy in love with Naomi. I reached toward my fair queen and drew her to me. I kissed her softly, and then longer and deeper. “But for the record I don’t think you have to worry about me,” I murmured.

Naomi pulled back a little to look down into my eyes. “Ah, yea? Why’s that?”

“Because I’m fucking whipped. I’m Campbell-whipped. It’s insane.”

“You’re insane.” She kissed my cheek tenderly. “And I’m Fitched. Insanely Fitched. And proud of it.”

I let out a long, happy breath. “We’re just insane freaks.”

Naomi nodded. “Insane joined-at-the-hip freak of nature.” We came together again in an intense twelve-cannon, guns firing, all-out kiss.

When the blonde released me, she asked softly, “Will we ever get tired of this?”

“I don’t know about you,” I said, “but I’d say, for me, that’s a no.”

She grinned and kissed my curving lips. “I like your answer.”

“Teasing between lovers is healthy for the relationship, you know,” I told her, sliding my hands down to curve on her hips. “It adds intimacy. And excitement.”

The blonde arched her brows provocatively. “Really?”

“Really.”

Naomi then took one step backward, then another. “Well, then, come on, babe,” she called with a teasing, challenging gaze. “You have to run and catch me if you can.”

“Naomi,” I called with a grunt of pain, raising my left foot and pointedly gazing down at it. “Does this make you feel a hint of mercy?”

Her blithe expression didn’t change. “No. If you want me in that hot tub with you, you have to come get me.”

“What about your promise? No more running away?” I reminded her.

She looked at me blankly, feigning ignorance. “What promise?”

“You’re going to kill me, Campbell,” I said through clenched teeth, and the blonde burst into a fit of giggles.

Still giggling, Naomi then raced for the door. “Come get me and I’m yours, babe,” she sang out in the doorway. “Now that’s a promise.” Then she spun and disappeared out of the room.

Staring at the open door, I chuckled but made no move to race after her since there was no chance in catching her, given my current state. Oz was barking madly in his cage, desperately wanting to join the fun. My eyes almost welled up with tears when the thought of being away from the Westie floated in my consciousness. I thrust that particular worry aside for the moment and just decided to focus on my physical self-therapy session.

I pivoted around and started toward the couch when I heard Naomi call from the hallway outside. “Come on, Emily Fitch! Prove to me you’re not useless!”

That was what did it, really.

I hurried toward the open door, stepped out of it quickly, knowing I’d wrenched my foot but the pain was eclipsed by my own wildly thundering heartbeat from all the excitement.

Naomi was gone. I started down the hallway, high on adrenaline and with the sole aim of capturing my ill-behaved queen to give her some good spanking, but was suddenly stopped short when a splash of cold water greeted my face.

A few metres ahead Naomi was slumped against the kitchen doorframe, helpless with laughter. “Fitch, you’re too slow. Sorry, I just had to wake you up.”

I swiped the liquid off my cheeks, then cocked my head to the side as I shot her a severe, threatening look. “I’m going to make you very sorry, Campbell.”

She only laughed. “You can try.”

I bolted at top speed toward her, hardly even conscious of my own disability. With a squeal of surprise, Naomi quickly spun around and took off. We darted down the hallway, around a corner, and down the stairwell, trailing watery footprints and uncontrollable laughter.

Naomi pushed open a door and burst into the lounge. I crashed out the door and into the crowded room, on Naomi’s heels. The blonde sprinted toward the other exit over at the opposite side of the room, trying to catch her breath through bursts of giggling.

I stopped in the middle of the busy room, panting wildly, oblivious to the many dormers having some sort of a massive group study session. I knew I had to find a way to make the blonde stop. I felt an impish smile steal over my face as an idea came to mind.

“Naomi Campbell got me pregnant!” I shouted at the top of my lungs in the packed lounge, shocking myself. Heads swiveled toward me and the runaway blonde.

Naomi stopped short and the laughter died in her throat. Slowly then she turned around, her eyes wide, her cheeks redder than normal.

I saw a dorm janitress slide her gaze down to my stomach. I awkwardly gave a half shrug and mumbled, “Well, erm, the baby’s only three months old so it’s not so obvious.” I patted my tummy and ventured a smile.

The room suddenly became oddly silent with half stunned amusement, half stunned surprise. Then I started giggling. I covered my mouth to prevent a complete, hysterical laughter.

Some Japanese girls in the lounge seemed about to actually consider my little announcement as factual, and that made me laugh even harder.

Naomi’s jaw tightened and she was now staring at me through narrow, dagger-shooting eyes. She stared at me so long without giving a clue to what she was planning to do to get even with me. Despite the mirth of the situation, my heart lurched with a bit of terror. Swiftly I swiped the tears of hilarity from my eyes and unconsciously took one step backward, then another. Uh-oh.

Light shone on Naomi’s blue eyes and I could see the laugh lines bracketing them. “Fitch, you better run for your life now,” she warned with a naughty smirk, then starting after me as I made a dash for the door, she shouted out, “I’m going to fucking get you really pregnant!”

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