Halfway Valentine | Chapter VI: Unravel

“Christ, I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Effy muttered, passing the bag of potato crisps back to me.

Believe it or not, I found myself enjoying spending time with Effy lately—just hanging out on the rooftop or on her windowsill and dropping by pastry shops. Who knew that a bland girl like her could have such a sweet tooth? Of course, spending time with the brunette meant intensifying the rumours. But we don’t give a toss, really. Every time Effy and I kick about together, we just chill—at times with me only watching her blow smoke rings and listening to her snarky comments the whole time. Sometimes it made me question the sincerity of her actions and behaviour toward me. I wasn’t sure if the goal was to further provoke Naomi—which was pretty controversial because why did it have to involve me?

I just don’t get these girls. Were they secretly plotting World War III? I swear, they’ve been giving me nothing but headaches from day one.

Good thing I found another diversion: a Japanese drama show. Every night, a bunch of Chinese girls would gather in the lounge to watch the TV series together. And since it’s more fun to share the enthusiasm with others, I made it a habit to join them in their nightly drama escapades whenever I’m available or whenever I need a distraction. Just like now.

This was perfect, I thought, as I swallowed a mouthful of crisps. Especially since I needed to take my mind off the uni paper I was yet to submit as my professor was already whining about my infrequent progress reports. It also helped in diverting my attention from obsessing about Naomi and whatever transpired last night during my drunken state. I was scared since I haven’t talked to her yet. I think I did or said something completely stupid.

“C’mon, we’re getting to the good part,” I told the brunette who was sitting next to me on the couch, her arms folded over her chest as if she were not even a tad bit amused.

“It’s predictable. The guy will be diagnosed with some terminal disease and will soon die. And they will all live happily ever after,” said Effy wryly.

Gazing at my friend sideways, I let out a sad sigh. See, the thing with emotional cripples, they believe that love stories always end in tragedy. It’s just pitiful.

“Cheer up, Elizabeth Scrooge. Let’s just wait and see, okay?” I mocked, and the brunette only responded with a roll of her eyes and a cynical snort-chuckle as she snatched the bag of chips from my lap.

For a long moment, I sat there with all these girls sniffling around me. My eyes were totally glued to the telly and I, too, was already on the verge of tears when a soft voice called from behind.

“Emily?”

I looked behind me over my shoulder.

“Naomi,” I said, quite surprised to see the Aussie blonde standing behind the couch. I wiped my eyes right away. “Hey. What’s up?”

“I just, uh . . .” Naomi looked cautiously at Effy. Effy seemed to not care; she just went on eating chips with that smirk on her face.

“Are you okay?” I asked, worried.

“Am I bothering you?” she asked quietly. I noticed a soft blush filling her cheeks. It took me a second before I realised the pink tinge and quiet word meant she was feeling shy. Of all people, Naomi feeling shy.

“No. Not at all,” I replied, turning on the couch to look at the blonde completely. “Naomi, what happened?”

The blonde moved around the couch to stand closer to me. “Can you, uh, can you come with me to my room?” she asked hesitantly, biting down her lip. “I’ve got something up and I guess I just need someone to talk to . . .”

A soft smile curved my lips. Naomi wanting to open up? This was a milestone. “Yeah, sure.”

“I mean, if it’s just okay with you,” she glanced pointedly at Effy who was pretending to be engrossed in the TV show, “But if you’re busy—”

I got up quickly and stood as if in attention. “Hey, I’m here for you, okay? Show me the way.”

We walked out of the lounge and climbed up the flight of stairs, wordlessly. I don’t really know if I should be thrilled or worried. Naomi wanted to talk. That might help solve some of the puzzle pieces. Something I’ve wanted to happen for a long time.

Naomi was willing to open up to me and had begun to trust me. Surely that was one step toward the right direction.

For Naomi and me.

“I don’t know why you’re drowning your head in mopey TV dramas,” Naomi said as soon as we reached her door.

 

I stopped in the threshold of her room, secretly fighting off the butterflies in my stomach. I felt giddy just standing in front of Naomi Campbell’s four-walled dreamland.  

“Hey. Time out.” I did the exact gesture with my hands. “I didn’t come here for you to insult me, okay?”

Naomi gave a shrug. “I’m just putting it out there.”

“I’m not the one with the personal crisis here,” I reminded her.

Naomi smirked. “I’m only kidding.” She finally opened the door and stood aside, holding the door open for me. “Please come in,” she said, ushering me into her room.

I stepped inside and entered far enough to allow the door to be closed behind me. I looked around. Wow. None of the pieces in here matched exactly, but looked like they belonged together anyway.

“I’m an incredibly disorganised person, as you can see,” Naomi said as she watched me glance around the room.

“What’s all that?” My eyes scanned the scattered books and magazines left open on her study desk.

Naomi walked past me, gesturing me to go further inside, while she moved toward the desk to fix the mess a bit. “Crossword puzzles, random magazines. And astronomy books.”

“I didn’t know you were into astronomy,” I said, walking further into the room.

“I like star-gazing,” she said. “I discovered that I could lose myself in it.” I saw her frown slightly. “Sometimes it’s the only thing that helps—oh fuck it.” She let out a laugh of embarrassment.

My eyes travelled to the huge corkboard hanging on the wall and I paced toward it. It had several photos of her family and uni friends, newspaper and magazine articles cut-outs about political and social` issues, stickers, and memorabilia like receipts, tickets, candy wrappers, etc pinned all over it. “Hm . . .” I ran my finger along the bits of colourful paper and plastic, studying each of them.

“It’s a mental circus, I know,” I heard Naomi say.

“It is. But it’s an extremely stimulating mental circus. Much like its creator.” I turned my head around and saw Naomi smiling at me a little self-consciously whilst biting her lip.

Jesus Christ, I melted. And I think it was quite obvious too, because she kinda laughed and said, “Alright, you seem to be really weirded out by what you see.”

“Nonsense. This is absolutely amazing. Like I said, very stimulating.”

“It’s everything.” Naomi pulled her swivel chair out from behind her study desk and drew it nearer to the bed. “Well, not exactly everything. Every bit of random stuff that—well, it doesn’t really mean anything.”

I smiled at her softly. “It’s things that you’re passionate about. I think it means something to you. And I think it’s brilliant that you’ve put them together. This is quite nice, really.”

She bit her lip again. “Like I said, it’s a mental circus. But there are so many stories behind them.”

“Will I ever get to learn all of them?” I asked, hopeful.

Naomi squinted at me for a few heartbeats before answering, “You know what? I think you will.”

And then we both fell silent, looking in each other’s eyes. 

And I realised, then, Naomi was actually starting to let down a few of the walls she had built around herself. Certainly Naomi deserved to have me open up to her in return and perhaps start giving a few hints of how I felt about her. “Just between you and me,” I said slowly, “I think looking into your eyes is more than enough. The light blue pair alone is an artwork and a story book in itself. I just love your eyes.”

Naomi glanced away, which told me that she got a bit shy. And true enough, she began blushing.

To close the extreme feeling of awkwardness, I cleared my throat and let my gaze travel around the room again. I had been dying to set foot in this room for ages. I was certain I would be able to catch a glimpse of what’s really inside Naomi’s heart and mind through surveying her room, and I wasn’t disappointed.

Her room was exactly how I imagined it to be. I knew it wouldn’t be as boring or plain as mine. I knew it would be a beautiful kind of mess. Posters were attached all over the four walls and a collection of shot glasses was displayed on a small table. I moved to her shot glass collection and inspected each one of them. The pieces were recognisably bought from different places. Naomi must’ve been well-travelled, I thought.

Don’t get me wrong, Katie and I have been to a few countries ourselves. But all of our travels were just quick family trips and I didn’t get to enjoy most of them. For our sixteenth birthday, the Fitch bunch did a ten-day Southeast Asia tour and Katie whinged about the heat and the local food the whole time which ruined a lot of our plans. I’ve also been on a nice luxury Caribbean cruise—all thanks to my dad’s booming gym business.

My feet wandered some more around the room and I let my eyes study each poster. 

Naomi was really into this whole animal welfare and environmental activism thing. That explains the tremendous amount of fiery blood streaming in her body. And I found myself incredibly intimidated by her passion and drive. I wished I had an ounce of that.

“Ugh. Work! Work, work, work!” Suddenly Naomi was fiercely pounding her fists against a poor electric kettle. “Are you fucking joking me? Oh don’t you fail me now.”

I stifled laughter at the adorable scene I was witnessing.

Naomi grunted, “Argh. You little bastard.” She gave the silver appliance one last frustrated thwack.

“Naomi,” I croaked, “what are you doing?”

“This little—ugh,” she grumbled before puffing out what breath was left of her.

I made my way over to the blonde. “It seems to understand what you’re saying to it.”

“Why wouldn’t he?”

“I didn’t know household appliances had language skills.”

“Mine do.” Eyes shining with amusement, Naomi took two mugs from a tray. “At least with me.”

“Then that’s probably a talent of yours, not the machines’,” I said, chuckling a bit.

Naomi turned to respond, but apparently felt we were standing too close. Stepping to the side, she made her way over to her personal refrigerator.

“Does this English-speaking wonder have a name?” I asked, patting the electric kettle. “I noticed you called it ‘he.’”

“Rigel,” Naomi answered.

“Unusual. Does it have any significance?”

“I like the sound of it.”

“You don’t elaborate much, do you?”

“No.” Then she looked at me and we laughed. “You ask a lot of questions, Emily Fitch.”

“I have a curious nature. Do you use Rigel often?”

She slammed shut the door of her refrigerator, and turned around to face me. “Can we stop talking about a goddamn kettle?” When I drew back and held up my hands in mock fear, she burst out laughing. “Just take a seat over there and chill, okay?” She gestured me into the swivel chair next to her bed.

“Oh, really now. I’m the one who needs to chill?” I snort-laughed, but dutifully moved to plop down in the chair.

With a paper bag of choux à la crème clutched in her hand, Naomi moved back to the table where Rigel the Kettle stood handsomely, looked at me over her shoulder and it was as close as she’d come to flirting. Or maybe she was dead serious and it only looked like flirting because of her skimpy shorts and the sweet-smelling long blond locks that hung down her back. Maybe it looked like flirting to me because I wanted it to.

“I was going to make you dinner,” she said, as she plugged in the kettle again. “I actually knocked on your door at around six but you were out—Ugh, finally!” She exclaimed when the kettle started to work.  

“Ah yeah. I went out for dinner.” Another army of butterflies filled my tummy. Naomi was actually taking steps to reach out to me.

“Oh, really? Where?”

“Effy and I checked out the tiny restaurant near the bridge. The bento meals are really cheap and very tasty,” I answered. Then added gratefully, “But thank you for offering to cook dinner. Perhaps next time?”

“Yeah, sure. Let me serve you a drink, then,” she said. “Van Houten’s still out of stock at the lobby. Will hot Milo be okay?”

I grinned. “It’s perfect. Thanks. Haven’t had Milo in ages.”

Naomi got busy arranging some cream puffs into a mini croquembouche on a plate as she waited for the water to boil.

“This brings me back to our conversation at the lobby when I was looking for Van Houten,” I brought up, smiling at the memory. “The one about the poor peasants. Remember?”

With a smirk, Naomi nodded. “Ah, yeah. That.”

“You were so obnoxious. You don’t even know me and you said all those things to me.”

The blonde turned around, a benign smile on her face. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I don’t. So enlighten me,” she said, as she moved to hand me the tiny tower of cream puffs. “I was in a bad mood. And when I’m in a bad mood, I don’t always remember to play nice. Especially when I’m encountering a privileged little rich girl who doesn’t know a thing about the real world.”

“A privileged little rich girl who doesn’t know a thing about the real world?” I repeated, a bit offended. “I had to work for my petrol money, Naomi. I worked as a bookstore cashier for two consecutive summers and even had to stand for eight fucking hours sweating under the bitch of a sun sending out flyers and calling for customers for an ice cream shop . . .”

Naomi gave a slight snort, stopping me short.

“What?” I asked indignantly. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said, shrugging slightly. “Actually, we’re not at all different. See, instead of selling ice cream and popsicles, I give away stuff for these activist organisations—you know, Amnesty International, Greenpeace, PETA. And instead of hollering my lungs out for customers with sweet tooths, I march to The Lodge in Canberra and demand rights for migrant workers. But really, it’s not all that different.”

I pressed my lips together. “You’re starting again, Campbell.”

She let out a laugh, leant over, and quickly poked the tip of my nose. “I’m sorry. But you’re just too cute not to tease, Emily. And you working solely for the petrol of your car sounds a bit—”

“Oh, don’t start with the ‘You better use hybrid cars because they are much cleaner with lesser carbon monoxide and other greenhouse gas emissions as the world is at the threat of toxic pollutants and global warming’ and all that yaddayadda. I don’t need a reminder of how shallow and naïve I am.” 

Straightening up, Naomi laughed again. “Hey, I never said you were shallow.”

“No.” I raised my chin, and popped a cream puff into my mouth. “But you implied it.” 

“Well, if it makes you feel better, I don’t think you’re shallow.” Her eyes drooped in a sort of apologetic expression.

“Good,” I said, smiling a little to myself.

“Maybe a little clueless, but not shallow,” she added, walking backwards toward Rigel the Kettle, who had just finished his job.

“Clueless?” 

“As in ignorant. Misinformed.”

I shot Naomi a fake glare then turned my back on her and muttered, “You’re lucky I care about you, Campbell. It’s a bit mind-boggling, don’t you think? Here I am, sticking up for you and being such a reliable Friend for Life regardless of you being such a sarcastic, cold-hearted bi—Ow.” A familiar small mushroom plushie hit my back.

My head jerked around to glare at her again. “See? You’re being violent!” I exclaimed, and she bit back a laugh.

As I put the plate of cream puffs down on Naomi’s bedside table, a couple of picture frames caught my attention. “Is this your mum?” I asked, holding a frame up and pointing at a blonde woman in the photo. I did a double take and decided, yes, she had to be. Given the identical colour of their eyes and their twin blond locks, this woman was definitely an older version of Naomi.

Naomi smirked. “Yep. The one and only.”

“God. You look so much like her,” I said in amazement, still staring at the picture.

“I get that all the time,” she replied with a brief tiny smile. “But she’s an annoying cow.”

I raised my brows at her teasingly. “Aren’t you, too, though?”

“She’s the mother of all cows.”

I gave her a teasing lopsided grin. “Well that makes a lot of sense. The apple does not fall far from the tree,” I quipped, making her jokingly scowl at me.

I watched the blonde, fascinated by the way her she bit her lip when she concentrated and the way her fingers held the tablespoon to stir the hot chocolate. Naomi had a mouth to die for—full lips, naturally red. And her hands had long, elegant fingers. It was so easy to imagine them stroking me.

When I glanced back up to her face, Naomi was smirking at me. I instantly wiped the look of adulation on my face. Christ, it must have been obvious that I had been lusting after her.

I quickly grabbed the other picture frame. “Who are all these people?” I asked, gesturing toward an old photo of a group of people seemingly from different walks of life.

“Oh, they used to live in my house,” Naomi answered. “My pseudo-family.”

“All of them?”

“Homeless people my mum took in. Those twin little boys I’m hugging in the photo are super adorable. So is the lady with the crazy hair. Some are incredibly annoying like that half naked bloke.”

“This one who looks a bit like Jesus?”

“Yeah, he’s a nudist. Despicable but tolerable,” said Naomi. “You just have to learn how to live with them.”

“So it seems you didn’t just get the looks from your mother, but also the passion, eh?”

“Our house was turned into a homeless shelter then into an activist headquarters, you see. I saw how my mother fought for and took care of people. I think it’s brilliant. Mum taught me at an early age that there’s no shame in fighting for your rights and what you deserve. No one should ever be stepped on you unless you’re a floor or a doormat,” she shared, moving back to where I was seated, carrying two mugs. “We wanted to adopt stray animals too, but there were some residents who were allergic to fur so instead we had a separate building built for them. Then eventually we had a separate house built for the others too.” She handed me a mug of hot Milo.

“That’s really nice. I mean, it’s amazing work. And I can’t help but think that your family is a blessing to humankind.” I lifted my mug to hers. “Cheers to that.”

“Cheers.” Naomi smiled as we touched our mugs together. Her smiles really transformed her face. Unfortunately, she didn’t smile very often.

There was a moment of silence until the blonde crushed it. “So. I’m so sorry to bother you, Emily. And for shortening your quality time with Effy.”

“Not at all. Don’t be silly,” I assured her, offering a genuine smile. “You said you wanted to talk. And that did it for me. Because you’re not usually a talker, Naomi.”

Naomi heavily sat on the edge of her bed, in front of me. “Yeah. I’m not,” she said, heaving a sigh. “But I need someone I could trust and you’re my best bet. Though, I have to say, I like you way better when you’re sober, Ranga.”

“Yeah, about that. I’m really sorry. I think I did some stupid things last night. Did I?”

Naomi blushed again. “Mm . . . Just that you . . .”

“Oh, my God. Did I propose to you?” I gasped, putting my hands over my mouth.

Laughing, the blonde gave me a light shove on the shoulder. “Get outta here! It’s nothing scandalous. Don’t worry about it.” She gave me a wink and her blue eyes held on to mine for much longer than necessary, until I finally had to break away. I swallowed hard and looked at the tower of the stuffed toys she won from the UFO Catcher in the corner of her bed, wondering what in the world did I blurt out last night. I cleared my throat, feeling way more jumpy than I usually do around her. Oh God, oh Lord, maybe I did profess my love for her already.

“So.” I managed to keep my voice steady and light, much to my own surprise, and finally had the guts to look at Naomi again. “What is this courtesy call all about? Seriously, if I said or did something weird last night, I’m really sorry. I can’t fucking remember much of what happened. It’s all a blur.”

“No, it’s not about that.” The blonde took a sip off her mug, and gazed at me from under her lashes.

My knees shook a little. “Alright, then. What can I do for you, Miss Campbell?”

Naomi poked at the inside of her cheek with her tongue and studied me, as if contemplating how to begin. Then she arched one eyebrow and smiled, a look so brazenly sexy that I feel my skin flush with heat and prayed to God she can’t see it. She can, of course. I was about the colour of a fucking tomato.

“This smells so good, by the way,” I said as another ice-breaker, awkwardly lifting the steaming mug of chocolate and bringing it to my nose. “And the Nutella cream puffs are the best.”

She smiled, and we sipped the fragrant hot drinks and munched on the choux à la crème in awkward silence until our eyes met and held again. I realised I was holding my breath as a new surge of arousal shot from my stomach to my groin. Oh Jesus, I can’t be this close to her. Don’t look at her mouth.

“So, uhm, what’s the matter?” I asked again.

Naomi put her mug down on her bedside table. “First, promise me you won’t tell anyone about this conversation or I swear to God I’ll rip your tiny ears off.”

I pulled back and raised a hand. “Whoa. No need to get all violent, missy. I swear on my life I won’t tell a soul.”

She looked convinced. “Okay.”

“Now tell me.”

Naomi inched closer on the edge of her bed that our knees were almost touching. “I’m so sorry if I’ve been a dick to you since we met,” she began. “It’s just that it’s my Dark Ages right now and you got caught up in this mess. I’m saying this because I think you’re a really lovely person and I don’t want you to keep thinking that I hate you. Because I don’t. I swear, I don’t.”

I stared at her and saw the sincerity in her eyes. “Okay, I believe you.”

“I just find it hard to . . . I don’t know—be vulnerable? Because I can’t afford to be. There’s just too many lies and craziness and stress and darkness in my life right now. And I guess I’m just so angry with the world and felt like being cold was the best way to mask all of them, you know. Anyway, to get to the point, my ex-boyfriend David—the dickhead—well . . .” She bit her lip. “I just don’t know what to fucking do about him anymore.”

“What’s he done this time?” I asked her, shifting my gaze toward the corkboard to try and hide the growing resentment inside me. 

So there it is. A few puzzle pieces solved: The dickhead was actually an ex-boyfriend of hers. A big hurdle I have to deal with along the way.

“He keeps on harassing me,” she said. “I broke up with him a few months ago and he wouldn’t get over it.”

“Can you blame him, though?” I unflinchingly said, still looking through the pinned photos. “You’re an amazing girl, Naomi. I’m sure you’re not that easy to get over with.”

It took Naomi a while to reply. Sipping the hot chocolate, I smiled to myself, thinking that my words had such an impact on her.

“But, uhm, y-yea—uh—” she fumbled on her words. Then quickly regaining her composure, she rambled on, “Anyway, he’s driving me crazy as he would call me every fucking night—crying, send me creepy e-mails, and post random sappy messages on my Facebook wall. He just won’t fucking leave me alone!”

“Reject call, delete mail, remove from friends. Three effortless taps of your finger,” I calmly told her. “It’s as easy as that, Naomes. Or to make it easier, just hire a hitman.”

“Excuse me, I’m not that heartless.” She jokingly threw me a scowl.

Smirking, I cocked a brow at her. “You sure about that?”

“I’m not,” Naomi maintained.

A snort. “Okay. Whatever makes you sleep at night, Naomi.”

The blonde simply rolled her eyes at me and chuckled in return. Then with a serious tone, she went on, “I’m trying to find room in my heart for forgiveness for the fucked up things that David did. And I’m just not ready now. I’m annoyed at myself because I really want to forgive him, but I still can’t. Sometimes the images reappear in my head and the pain goes back. And it’s just fucking frustrating.”

I got up and moved to sit next to Naomi on her bed. My tone went serious, as well, as I put an arm around her shoulders. “I think you’re on the right track. It’s good that you’re trying to find the light. But it takes time, Naomi. You can’t force yourself to forgive or obsess about forgiving. The day will come when you’ll just realise, ‘Oh great, I’m finally over that’ and you’ll feel in your heart that it’s for real. The best way to deal with this is just to focus on improving yourself.” As Naomi processed what I just told her, I downed my mug of Milo and placed the mug on the bedside table. Then I faced Naomi and quietly asked, “But, uhm, if you don’t mind me asking, what fucked up things did he do that made him so hard to forgive?”

It took Naomi a moment to reply, but when she did, she seemed composed. “He only cheated on me with my best friend,” she said, then added, “No. Make that ex-best friend.”

I made a face. “Jesus. He’s a foul beast.”

“Damn right. And the nerve to beg me to take him back,” she said with a snort-chuckle. “I caught them. Red-handed. He said he was out with his cousin. Why am I surprised? Men are so shit at lying – why bother if you haven’t the imagination to at least come up with something that sounds realistic, yea?” she scoffed, then grabbed her mug again for a calming sip of hot chocolate. “Anyway, I came up just at the right moment. He was nibbling her ear, while stroking her thigh – what a fucking talented guy, huh?”

“Did you charge at them and go ape?” I asked.

“Nope,” she answered. “I just turned around and walked away. But I was shaking.”

“Classy.”

“But then the next day when I saw them separately, I gave each of them a memorable slap in the face. Hard fucking ones.” She laughed, and I laughed with her.

But judging from Naomi’s tone, I could tell that she still held some anger.

“Let me just say,” I said, my eyes steady on hers, “that I hope he realises what a dumb asshat he is for letting you go. He sure was lucky to have someone like you in his life.”

Naomi looked away, obviously liking what I had said despite herself. I turned my head to look at the picture frames on her bedside table again, allowing her the silence she needed.

After a few moments, the door suddenly swung open, revealing a grinning Cook.

“LAAADIES!” the Irish bloke called with arms wide open. “Guess what!”

“Go away, Cook,” Naomi said automatically, her expression serious. “I don’t want to take part in any of your lewd, shitty ideas.”

The Irish lad cackled. “But it’s about my borthday, and good tidings, the soon-to-be borthday boy brings!” 

“Alright. What is it?” Naomi asked with a raised brow, folding her arms over her chest.

“Cookie’s Karaoke Night this Sunday night, awrite?” He wiggled his brows expectantly. “What d’ye think, Emilio?”

“Oh God, Karaoke? I’m in!” I eagerly said, and giggled like a kid. I probably looked nuts as I saw the blonde gaping at me in amusement.

Cook beamed. “Sweet!” Then his gaze went to Naomi. “What about ye, Naomikins? Now, now, don’t be a pooper.”

Naomi thought about it for a second, then said, “Fine. Count me in, too. As long as we’re not required to wear or do something slutty.”

“Excellent, ladies! I’m gunna head on now so you two can carry on with yer sexy time.” Snickering, Cook left us alone again. It set my brain off whirring with thoughts for a second time.

I wanted to dig deeper into Naomi so I took the plunge. “So,” I began, “what you said back during the welcome party—you know, about you being ‘confused’—was that all about David?”

Naomi’s voice was uneasy. “Yeah, he was a factor but not entirely—uhm—” She quickly changed the subject. “So,” she said, grinning and bumping her shoulder playfully to mine, “karaoke, huh?”

I let her off the hook for now by responding just as thrilled. “Yeah. I love it!” I got to my feet and skipped back to the corkboard.

“Ah, yeah?” Naomi’s eyes were narrowed and her lips curved with amusement. “You do look like you’re ready to go all sorts of gungho.”

I giggled at this as I poked a pin on the corkboard. “I am, yes.”

“You any good? At singing, I mean.”

Looking behind me, over my shoulder, I answered quite smugly, “Are you kidding me? I’m brilliant.”

Naomi snort-chuckled. “Fucking figjam,” she jokingly scoffed. “We’ll see about that.”

I quickly turned around, focusing on the corkboard again, and then mindlessly sang the chorus of Plumb’s “Stranded”.

♫If it’s coming over you like it’s coming over me

I’m crashing like a tidal wave that drags me out to the sea♫

“Get outta here!” Naomi suddenly exclaimed, instantly making me jump in surprise and spin around to face her again. The blonde gasped, “You can really sing?” It was more of a statement than a question.

“You can say that . . .” I said, now blushing. “I’m a mezzo-soprano of the University of Bristol Choral Society.”

“Wow,” she breathed, staring at me in awe. “That sounds fucking extreme.”

“It’s not that big of a deal.” I gave a shrug.

Naomi stood up, still looking impressed. “Seriously, I love your voice, Ranga. It’s smoky and soulful and intimate.”

“Thanks.” I offered her a flattered smile, then asked, “What about you? Do you sing?”

“Nah. Can’t sing a tune,” replied Naomi with a snort. “I’m a good head-banger, though.” Her grin was smug and challenging as she jumped to stand on top of her bed. “And I can kick your arse in a pillow fight.” She grabbed two pillows, threw one at me, and gave me a playful come-hither gesture.

A smirk curled my upper lip as my heart raced with utter excitement. “Fucking figjam,” I said, echoing her words, making a dash for the bed to lunge at the waiting blonde. “We’ll see about that.”

“Oh, okay, this is the best part,” Panda said, adjusting her position in the big, comfy swivel chair so that her legs were hanging over the side. We watched as a grenade blasted, sending a soldier’s leg flying.

“Oh, yeah, that’s super sexy,” Halo said sarcastically from her sprawled position on Panda’s bed.

“Guys? Can’t we move on?” I asked, covering my eyes with my hand. “I know you are very curious about history and like to torture yourselves but this is just too much.”

Of all the bizarre themes my friends had thought up for a girls’ Sunday Funday, this one, “Spag Bol and Gory War Movies,” had to take the top prize.

So there we were that Sunday afternoon, in Panda’s cosy room, each of us holding a bowl of Spaghetti Bolognese. Sitting on the floor and leaning against the bed, I reached behind me to grab a pillow from Halo’s pillow fort on the bed. It was getting colder in the dim room and the spine-chilling images on the TV screen weren’t helping.

“We have to watch the movies I rented and stick with the theme,” Halo said, sitting up and hitting the pause button. She sorted through the DVDs on the bedside table as I continued to eat the Spag Bol I had made for the first time. I was just lucky to have bumped into Flaviana in the kitchen earlier. The Italian girl gladly gave me a crash course on legit Italian pasta cooking.

“I’ve got Behind the Enemy Lines, Apocalypse Now Redux, and Black Hawk Down,” Halo announced and pranced over the DVD player.

I eyed the pasta in my bowl like it was blood and guts, then groaned through a mouthful of tomatoes and meat sauce, “I thought you guys wanted to cheer me up from the stress of my research paper. Where are the hot girls?”

Halo ran her fingers through her hair, causing her short bangs to stick straight up. “I thought the whole purpose of this gathering was to get your mind off hot girls?”

“Nice one, Halopoop,” Panda said with a giggle and they did a high-five. I felt the Swedish girl glance at me but avoided eye contact. “Emily just seriously needs to take a break from juggling girls. I’m sure she’s pooped from it all week.”

I straightened up and gave both of them a questioning look. “What are you two on about?”

Halo let out a snort. “Oh, come on. We know you’re getting real tight with a certain mysterious American brunette, then a certain perfect Japanese girl makes you smile all the time, and now a certain volatile Aussie chick is keeping you busy.”

“Eeny, meeny, miny, moe!” Panda was spinning round and round in her swivel chair, feet off the floor. “Who’s it going to be, Emsypoo? I know you and Effy spend a lot of time together. Do you have feelings for her?”

“No, I don’t,” I replied.

Halo was incredulous. “Seriously? You go out on dessert dates and you hang out in her room all the time doing God-knows-what and you’re telling us that there’s nothing going on between you two?”

I heaved a sigh. “If there’s something going on, it’s friendship, Halo. Pure friendship.”

“What about Misaki?” Halo asked as she moved to Panda’s desk to refill her bowl with sauce. “I read your cheesy sweet texts to each other. Tell me, honestly, do you like her?”

“Yes. I like her as a friend,” I answered, unfazed. “Misaki’s a really sweet girl. I’m sure anyone who meets her would like her, too. You should know.”

Leaning against the desk, Halo cocked a brow. “What about Naomi, then?”

“Yeah. I thought you and Blondie of Oz can’t stand each other?” Panda chimed in, still spinning in her swivel chair. “Since when did you and Naomi get along so well?”

I let out a groan. “You two are making a big deal out of things that don’t even mean anything.”

But Halo was ruthless. “Oh, come on, Emily! You and Naomi have this weird romantic thing going on lately. Don’t deny. That’s why Panda and I didn’t play Glee on purpose ‘cos we thought there’s just a pool of hot blondes there.”

“I don’t have a weird romantic thing going on with Naomi,” I said in the most serious tone I can give. “We’re just good friends.”

“Oh I see—you’re just good friends, aren’t you?” said Halo with a rasping laugh. “Heard that one before!” She cocked a brow toward Panda who giggled and blushed and covered her face in embarrassment. Panda and Thomas still deny having a thing even though it’s so obvious they are completely head over heels in love with each other. Maybe they are just not into labels.

“No, really,” I insisted. “There’s nothing going on, I swear.”

Halo had that lopsided smirk on. “You sure ‘bout that? ‘Cause last Friday at the benches during lunch break when I popped by, you and Naomi didn’t really seem to want me there. Jeezus, I practically needed to ask you guys if you would look at me when I was talking!”

Panda nodded as she noisily slurped on the spaghetti. “Yeah, I also saw you two flirting in the lounge. A few times this week. It’s like you’re lost in your own little world.”

“We weren’t flirting,” I said in defence. “We were just working on our homework together.”

“Ah yeah?” Halo arched a teasing brow. “What about this morning in the kitchen when you two were talking to each other while having breakfast. Such an intimate chat. You looked freaking love drunk, by the way—like you’re melting! I had to beg for you two to acknowledge my presence.”

“We were just discussing something,” I said, irritation now creeping up the back of my neck.

“Discussing what? Discussing your Walk of Shame last night?” Halo blurted, and my heart did a back flip in my chest right away. Halo probably noticed the look of alarm on my face, prompting her to go on with a knowing smirk, “Oh yeah. That’s right. I saw you. I saw you come out of Naomi’s room in your crumpled clothes and with your disheveled sex hair and that victorious grin on your face.”

“We had a pillow fight,” I told her, forking some more pasta.

Halo’s brow twitched. “Oh. Is that the new lesbian term for ‘hot sex’?”

“Shut up,” I mumbled in fake annoyance, and the two girls started laughing.

Halo seemed to be seriously enjoying making fun of me. “Okay. But what about Effy and Misaki?”

“Just let it go, okay?” I said, clutching the pillow to my neck in frustration. God, these two wouldn’t just leave me alone. “Misaki’s just a friend. Just like Effy’s just a friend. Just like Naomi is only a friend. End of story.”

The Canadian girl folded her arms over her chest. “So are you saying that you don’t feel anything for any of those girls?”

I only lowered my head and busied myself with the pasta, ignoring Halo’s repetitive question.

Halo shook her head then let out a sigh. “You are not going to get away with this, Emily Stiff. Sooner or later, you will have to choose who you really want and hearts will break. And we can’t wait to see how this plays out.”

Panda put her hand on my shoulder, and I looked up at the Swede. “Whoever it will be,” she said, “we just wish you’ll have a truly happy vagina.”

Halo cracked up, and I almost choked on the spaghetti.

“And let us know who among them has the sweetest . . .” Halo wiggled her brows meaningfully at me, “smelling . . .” Some more wiggling, “p-p-puh—Whoops!”

Blushing hard, I chucked the pillow I’d been hugging at Halo’s head. “Stooop—!”

Halo ducked her head and laughed out loud. “I was gonna say perfume!”

“Just shut it, you two!” I was trying so hard not to burst into laughter. These two were just loonies. I forked a huge bit of pasta and put it in my mouth.

“Okay, okay!” Halo held her hands up in surrender. “But I won’t forget what I saw last night, Emily, and I know you pretty damn well.”

Leaning back against the bed, I closed my eyes against the bright light of the telly and chewed on. Naomi, I thought, I hate that you make me crazy with want. No matter what these girls did to try to distract me, my brain wouldn’t stop repeating the words. Even Saving Private Ryan, one of the most poignant, schmaltziest movies ever made, wasn’t doing the trick.

Naomi, I hate that you make me crazy with want.

“I think we need a killer drink to complement Emily’s delectable Spag Bol,” I heard Halo suggest. “Maybe milkshake?”

“Best idea ever! I have Oreo in the kitchen,” Panda replied giddily.

“Naomi and Emily . . . Who would’ve thought,” Halo remarked wistfully, and the butterflies tickled my tummy right away as sweet memories of last night revisited my mind.

“Yeah. I thought Naomi was straight, though . . .” Panda mused. “Although she only once vaguely mentioned a previous boyfriend and flirted with JJ for some time. We don’t really talk about her lovelife now that I think of it.”

“Well, you know what they say,” Halo said, “just like this spaghetti. Some people are only straight until wet.” And they both fell into fits of laughter.

With my mouth full, my lips were precariously twitching from struggling not to burst out laughing.

“Emily?” Halo called. I heard the door swing open.

“Mhm?” I replied, keeping my eyes closed.

“Who won the pillow fight?”

“Blondie,” I mumbled.

Halo snickered. “Oh, Ems. You are so a bottom!”

Before I could open my eyes for a reaction, Halo and Panda were out the door, laughing their butts off.

“Lads, lads, lads!” Cook, the birthday boy, stood in the middle of our big circle as we gathered in front of Happy Whistle Karaoke Bar in downtown Gion. “Swear to me this is gunna be one of the best nights of our lives. Let’s make Cookie’s Karaoke Night an epic one, aye?” He held his beer can high for the others to clank.

“Aye!” Everyone cheered and clanked our cans against his and drank a hearty sip of Asahi beer.

“Where’s my borthday hugs, ladies?” Cook held out his arms wide.

Karen rolled her eyes. “Fine. Just this one time, James Cook.” She lackadaisically moved into Cook’s arms, and Cook lifted her into the air. Once Cook put Karen down, Halo and Panda reluctantly went in for a hug.

“Group hug!” Sean shouted, running into the hug, hooking Thomas and Freddie along the way. “Freak hug!” And the others joined in to hug, laughing.

I felt someone tap me from behind. When I looked over my shoulder, Naomi stretched her arms and wrapped one of them around my shoulders, making me blush a light crimson, and she urged me to join the group hug.

“Can’t wait to see your good head-banging, Campbell,” I managed to whisper into the blonde’s ear as everyone squeezed closer.

Naomi laughed. “And I look forward to hearing you belt out brilliantly, Fitch.”

When the gang pulled apart, I couldn’t stop grinning and quickly noticed that Halo and Panda were giving me meaningful stares. By that time, my whole face had probably turned super red. When I raised my brows at them questioningly, they made a heart shape with their hands over the left side of their chests, teasing me. I stuck out my tongue at them and they snickered.

I really couldn’t help it; I felt giddiness bubble up in my chest. Karaoke makes me excited. It’s ridiculous how much. I had always loved singing and thought that now was my chance to show everyone my hidden prowess. Actually, no. Now was my chance to further impress Naomi. There was this song that I’d been meaning to sing to her. It had been playing in my head over and over. It carries every wonderful feeling that the blonde had stirred within me. I was just waiting for the perfect moment to do it.

Cook hitched his thumb toward the entrance of the building. “Awrite, mates! What are we waiting for, eh? Let’s head in!”

We all rushed into the building and left our IDs at the counter for student discounts. Karen took care of all the dealings at the reception desk. We were then led by an employee into a spacious private room that was pulsating with neon colours—like a mini-discotheque. It had a stage-slash-dance floor in front, black leather seating along the sides and a long table in the middle, TV screens placed on all sides, and adjustable spotlights suspended all around the ceiling. It was also equipped with all the karaoke paraphernalia necessary such as microphones, tambourines and maracas. Japanese people are truly crazy, I thought, flabbergasted. They just take everything to the next level. Too bad, Effy was a no-show tonight; I would’ve enjoyed listening to her sarcastic remarks about the place.

The gang settled around the room and one by one we started to order drinks through the intercom when suddenly a grim-faced Japanese bloke entered the room, looking for Karen. Karen immediately came up to him and they talked at the door. Quickly, the exchange got heated—they were arguing about something I couldn’t quite catch because their Japanese was too fast and Cook had already started singing or - err - making noise, rather. Shortly, I caught Karen’s head snap to my direction with a dismayed expression.

“What’s the problem?” I mouthed to the French girl. 

Karen then motioned for me to come out of the room with her. Naomi, who was seated across me, shot me a questioning look and I just responded with a clueless shrug. I got up and made my way to the door.

Apparently, the people at the desk found out that I was still underage and since alcoholic drinks were being served, I was not allowed to go inside. Karen kept on protesting—telling them that kicking me out would be really stupid and uncalled for. I merely offered the staff apologetic looks as Karen boiled with rage. 

“C’est complètement débile!” The scathing French words sputtered from her mouth. “If you don’t let her stay, we’ll just fucking leave this dump! It’s our friend’s birthday and—”

I touched Karen’s arm, cutting her short. “Karen, hey. It’s all right. No need to make a scene.”

I didn’t really want the situation to spiral out of control, leading to all of us getting chucked out of the place. I couldn’t let this little thing ruin everything; it would spoil Cook’s party.

“But they want to kick you out. And I can’t let them, Baby Fitch,” Karen maintained.

“I know. And I appreciate that, Karen,” I gently told her. “But they have policies. And we just have to abide by them.” I was calming Karen down when suddenly Naomi came out of the room and walked over to us.

“What’s going on here?” Naomi asked worriedly, her eyes darting between us and the employee.

“They’re saying Emily can’t stay because she’s miseinen (underage),” said a very furious Karen.

“What?” Naomi was baffled. “That’s bullshit.”

“That’s what I’ve been telling them,” Karen seethed again, pointing her finger crossly at the already-shaken employee. “I even told this guy that Emily’s not going to drink. But he said she still can’t stay. Fils d’une putain.”

Karen’s snarl had me stepping forward. “You guys, it’s okay,” I quietly assured them with a sigh. “I can just leave, you know. Don’t worry about me.”

“No. It’s not okay,” Karen said stubbornly, still throwing the bloke a hostile look. “Stupid club. Stupid management. Stupid rules.”

When the karaoke guy took a step forward to speak, Karen cut him off immediately. “Va te faire foutre!” Then the French girl started arguing—or more like one-way yelling—with the karaoke guy again until Naomi cut them off.

“All right. Stop. Stop!” The blonde clasped her hands together, making them look at her in attention. Naomi then faced Karen, calmly assuring her, “Karen, don’t worry about Emily, okay?” She put her arm around my shoulders, not close enough so that’s it’s a come-on, more a buddy stance with underlying tension. I liked the weight of her arm, the way she smelled like flowers. “Go back inside and you guys have fun. I’ll take care of this little girl,” she told our friend.

Karen looked at the two of us, slightly suspicious, but eventually she nodded her head. “Okay. All right. You sure you two are going to be okay?”

“I’m sure we can find things to entertain us, right, Ems?” Naomi pulled me a little closer as she shot me a sideways look that made my knees weak.

Karen’s brow rose in curiosity. “Like what?”

“Erm. Like,” I said, wracking my brains, “we could exchange insults.”

I turned to Naomi which made her add, “Yes. And maybe compose a song about a toothbrush.”

I raised an index finger. “Take note, it’s not just any other brush. It’s a toothbrush.”

“That’s right.” Giving me a wink, Naomi rode the banter. “Or perhaps we can set some temples on fire and end up as two of Kyoto’s Most Wanted.”

I pursed my lips and acted thoughtful. “Hmm . . . that sounds like an epic plan.”

Letting out a snort-chuckle, Karen waved a hand. “You two weirdos are off on your own. I’mma head back inside,” and turned on her heel to trot back into the room. “Enjoy each other!” she called before shutting the door behind her.

Naomi and I looked at each other and snickered together.

“That one about the toothbrush is fucking hilarious, I have to say,” I remarked, loving the feeling of still being in Naomi’s arm.

She smirked. “Thanks. And take note,” she held up her index finger, “it’s not just any other brush . . .”

“It’s a toothbrush!” we both said at the same time and we burst into fits of laughter.

“So do you really have something in mind?” I asked after we’d sobered. “Something we can do? Somewhere we can go?”

With a toothy grin, Naomi urged me forward. “I have zero ideas. But that’s the fun part, yea?” she said, and I let the blonde steer a laughing me toward the exit.

Naomi and I marched out of the karaoke bar with her arm still draped across my shoulders. I felt like I was going to melt that very moment. My chest was dangerously tight for I was holding my breath the whole time. I felt a little over the moon.

Naomi cleared her throat. “So. Where to now, Emily?” she asked as we walked down the narrow street, flashing me one of her sweetest smiles. My knees instantly wobbled.

I pursed my lips and thought about stuff we can do as we walked on. “Uhhh . . . I’ve heard about this ramen shop down Kiyamachi Street.” I smiled tentatively. “They said it’s ace . . .”

Naomi smiled back. “You read my mind,” she said, “I’m actually craving for hot soup right now,” and then she disentangled her arm from my shoulders and stopped a step behind me.

I turned around to look at her, rather confused. Almost immediately, Naomi held out her hand.

I felt my cheeks go pink as I stared at her. Why do you have to be so fucking adorable? Naomi lifted a brow and was waiting for me to tug her. She had on that compelling look again—biting her lower lip and eyeing me with her soulful azure eyes. Why?

When I took her hand wordlessly, Naomi grinned at me, saying, “Lead the way, Ranga.” Again, why?

I giggled as the blonde swung our hands playfully whilst humming that schmaltzy Jason Mraz song “I’m Yours”, feeling like I was daydreaming. Throughout the walk to the bicycle parking area, I kept on stealing glances at Naomi. I couldn’t help it, she was just so cute as she hummed and we were holding hands! Never in a million years did I imagine walking hand in hand with Naomi Campbell.

As we hopped onto our bicycles, Naomi pouted. “Too bad,” she said, “I wasn’t able to hear your angelic mezzo-soprano voice.”

I let out a small laugh and added, “And I wasn’t able to see you do your awesome head-banging.”

Naomi smirked. “Yeah, I would’ve blown your mind.”

I gave her a wink and dropped a little line that left the Aussie blonde tongue-tied. “Trust me, you already have.”

“God, I think I have all the food I need to survive the next three days in my tummy,” I groaned, stroking my ballooned belly. “There’s like zero space available in here now.”

Naomi laughed softly as she took a sip off her can of beer. “Amen.”

The autumn breeze blew against us as we meandered along the expanse of rocks and fallen maple leaves along the western bank of Kamo River. The blonde pulled her leather bomber jacket around herself more tightly.

“Jesus Christ. It’s freezing as fuck,” said a shivering Naomi. “This is like one of Melbourne’s coldest nights. I think I’d have to hibernate for a while.” She made an adorable brrr sound.

“Naomi, it’s only what? 12, 13°C?” I chuckled in amusement. “It’s not even winter yet, for crying out loud.”

“You’re only saying that because you live in fucking Siberia,” the blonde flippantly shot back. “Give the Aussie girl a break, yea?”

I only chuckled to myself some more and shook my head, a four-pack of beer dangling in my hand. Naomi was just so adorable when she’s fragile.

Then thinking it would help a bit, I put my palm on the blonde’s back and gently rubbed against it. I wanted to give her warmth. But for some reason, I felt Naomi’s heartbeat quicken in tandem with her tightened grip on the beer can, prompting me to remove my hand almost immediately. I didn’t want her to fall in a faint right then and there.

I spoke into the silence as we continued crunching through the fallen leaves. “Naomi?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you for, you know, being here with me,” I shyly told her, my head bowed down as I kicked little stones along the path. “I mean, you didn’t have to ditch them . . . You could’ve just stayed there.”

“Nonsense. It’s all good,” Naomi replied, shaking her head and smiling a bit. “You’re the only reason why I went there in the first place, anyway. You know, to witness your ‘brilliance,’” she said, making air quotes.

A blush had instantly smeared all over my cheeks as I giggled quietly. I stayed looking down at the ground to conceal it. I couldn’t think of a nice comeback.

There was a sudden lull in the conversation—all thanks to me being a proper loser. Quite a long, awkward lull, actually. Naomi must’ve noticed I was still tongue-tied so she all of a sudden hooked her arm through mine.

“I suggest we sit somewhere for a bit,” she said, tugging me gently to the side. “My legs are getting numb.”

We stopped in front of a willow tree and plopped down on the soft grass beneath it. Everything felt so perfect that October night. I was nestled in a perfect spot at a perfect moment with the perfect girl. The gentle-flowing water of the river in front of us was beyond soothing. It twinkled under the moonlight. It mirrored the tiny yellow lights from the petite buildings that stood alongside it. The sound of the gushing water was a melody to my ears. We stretched our feet and inhaled the therapeutic scent of Kyoto. I opened a beer can, clanked it with Naomi’s, and drank on it.

The karaoke bar incident instantly revisited my mind. I pulled my knees up, wrapped them around with my arms, and blew out a goaded breath. “Fucking hell,” I said, shaking my head. “I can’t believe they actually kicked me out of the karaoke bar.”

“Why wouldn’t they? You’re as tiny as any toddler,” Naomi wryly said, “and you act like a goddamn child.” She was bottling up a smirk.

I shot her a fake scowl. “Oh, don’t start with the whole ‘Baby Fitch’ thing,” I warned her, and let out a snort. “What are you, like barely a year older than me, yea?”

“Two, actually,” Naomi responded matter-of-factly.

“Whatever. I just think it’s stupid.” Propping my elbows on my knees then resting my chin on my hands, I let out another sigh. “It sucks being nineteen in Japan.”

Comfortable silence then enveloped us for a short while. We took gulps on our beers again.

The blonde suddenly gently nudged me with her shoulder. “So . . .” she broke the silence, narrowing her eyes at me, “are we doing a fantastic job, Emily?”

My forehead crinkled. “What do you mean?”

“Baby-sitting you and all.” Naomi’s blue eyes danced with humour.

I lowered my gaze, fighting a smile. “Shut up,” I mumbled. “Not fucking funny.”

Naomi patted my head lightly. “Don’t worry, Little Emsy. In a few months you’ll be free to spread madness all over Japan so no need to cry for Mummy, yea?” she said in a sweet, little voice which cracked me up.

Laughing, we clanked our cans together and drank again.

When I had sobered, I asked, “Do you miss home, Naomi? Australia, I mean.”

Naomi only rolled her eyes.

My brows came together. “Why? Is there something wrong with my question?”

Naomi shook her almost-empty beer can. “Well, not really,” she answered. “I mean, apart from my annoying mother and my handsome Cadillac named Voltron and my cradle-snatching aunt, Aunt G—”

“Hold on. You have a Cadillac named Voltron?”

“Yep.”

“You just fancy naming things, don’t you?” I asked with an amused smile.

“Yep. Only the useful things.”

My tiny smile grew into a tiny grin. “What about me? You called me ‘Ranga’. Does that mean I’m—?”

“Maybe,” she said with a little smirk. Then quickly she went back to what she was trying to say. “Anyway, apart from those, what’s to miss about the Down Under?”

“Uhm . . . I dunno,” I said, shrugging, “The vegemite, the nice-looking beaches, the weird giant bugs—?”

“Ah, yeah.” Her nose wrinkled up in disgust right away. “The giant bugs, the creepy crawlies. I hate those things. They can be intense.”

“Are the stories real? I’ve heard about the terrifyingly huge spiders.”

Naomi grinned a little. “Yeah, they’re real, all right. Only in Australia. You’ll see spiders so big that they can capture and destroy a fucking snake. I saw some dwelling in my Aunt G’s old house in Goondiwindi—really massive ones called Huntsman spiders with leg span up to one foot. But these ones are generally harmless.”

“Whoa. That’s bloody monstrous, still.”

“Yeah, well . . .” Naomi put on a very friendly and high-pitched Australian accent and spread her arms out wide. “Welcome to Australia! Now here’s a shimmering three-metre earthworm as your welcome gift! Hope you enjoy the variety of fucked up creatures jumping on you left, right and centre.” The blonde acted as if she were really hanging something around my neck like a Hawaiian lei and I burst out laughing.

“You’re mad, Campbell,” I managed to say between laughter.

“I’m only being real.” Then she surveyed the surroundings and wistfully said, “Odd, though. I haven’t seen a single fly here in Kyoto.”

As she finished off her beer, Naomi was still busy observing the place, perhaps looking for a single fly to debunk her notion. She looked so adorable; I wanted to kiss her.

“By the way,” I told her with a little grin, “not all of them are fucked up. I think your koalas are adorable. Cute and cuddly.”

Naomi’s head snapped toward me. “I’ll have you know that you got that wrong, hun,” said the blonde, arching a brow. “Koalas are not cuddly at all. They can be nasty little clingers. And when they fight each other, it can get extremely violent and bloody.”

I gave another shrug. “Oh, well, I fancy your weather.”

“Well, yeah, just because yours is shitty, right?” She opened her third can of beer that night.

“Uh-huh. It’s never too sunny back there,” I said, frowning briefly, then added, “So, there, you have the glorious sun to die for.”

“You could say that . . .” Naomi mumbled, taking a pensive sip of beer. “Australia . . . It can be the most exciting place in the whole world. All the different people from different places. The energy. The zest for life. The thirst for adventure. Not to mention all the beaches to surf on and mountains to climb and strange creatures to cross paths with. Takes a real man to live there. Now that I think of it, home’s not so bad . . .” Then she looked at me more intently. “What about you, Ems? Do you miss Bristol?”

As I thought about it, my ballet flats crunched back and forth on the dried leaves on the grass. “Apart from my twit of a twin, what’s there to miss about?”

“Hey!” she said, playfully bumping her shoulder to mine. “I love your Garibaldi biscuits!”

My head shot up, my eyes wide. “No way! You know Garibaldis?” I was genuinely, utterly surprised and delighted at the same time. “You serious?”

Naomi nodded. “Yep. They’re just in-fucking-credible,” she said with a chuckle. “I remember my Aunt Margie brought me some Crawford’s after a Euro trip and I ate, like, ten packs in a day. Too bad, though, they don’t sell them here in Japan.” She pouted in a very cute way. “I mean, I tried looking in all the grocery stores.”

“You could have just asked me, silly! I can hook you up with some when my Christmas care package arrives.”

Naomi’s eyes lit up and she grinned. “For serious!”

“Yep, for serious,” I said, grinning back. “I’ll have them at your doorstep come December.” I concluded my oath with a wink.

“Can I just say,” Naomi said, leaning a little to the side toward me, “you’re the best?”

“I know,” I said simply, feeling a little floaty and giddy and weak in the knees. I was on the verge of melting into a puddle of goo. For serious. 

God, this girl next to me was simply awesome, I thought dreamily. I could imagine spending many nights like this with her.

Naomi and I both lay down on the ground on our backs and we let silence fall between us. I hadn’t really noticed it earlier but the sky was crowded with stars of various sizes, colours, and glows. I inhaled a deep breath and released it slowly. I stole a glance at Naomi who was looking flawless under the moonlight. Her eyes were closed and her lips curved with a faint smile. I wondered what she was thinking—if she was thinking about me, too. I let my gaze stray back to the dancing assemblages of stars above us.

Naomi suddenly spoke. Her voice was soft. “Ems?”

I turned my head sideways to look at the dazzling blonde. Her eyes were still shut. “Hm?”

“Seriously, though, do you miss your family?” Her eyes flew open then, instantly meeting mine. Her blue eyes. The pair of twinkling orbs that I will never ever tire of gazing at.

It was a moment before I spoke. “Yeah. I mean, they’re a nice pack. And rather odd. But, still, lovely pack. Especially Dad who’s always been there for me and my li’l brother James—downright perve though really sweet—but Mum?” I said, my tone suddenly becoming pungent, “She’s a bloody monster who’s expert in the power of manipulative motherhood.” That elicited a laugh. “She never got over the whole gay thing. She still blames my boarding school for it, actually.” I snorted and shook my head. “What a complete loony.”

“That’s just awful,” Naomi said, genuinely upset as she shook her head. “What about your twin? How’s she?”

“Katie? Yeah, she’s all right,” I answered. “But she’s just always caught up in drama, you know. School drama. BFF drama. Which-lingerie-to-wear-today drama. My-dream-shoes-are-out-of-stock drama. Drama drama. Boyfriend drama. Especially the bloody boyfriend drama. I always end up getting involved in the emotional rollercoaster, you see. I think my sister’s quite unlucky in the love department. Her current boyfriend is a big, fat knob with an ego the size of a fucking blimp and a brain the size of a rodent’s dung.”

“Wow. Sounds like a real keeper,” Naomi quipped, and I laughed.

“I wonder how Katie puts up with that tool, you know,” I went on, making a face. “They had broken up once before and I thought finally God must have pitied my twin, but somehow Danny managed to worm his way back in that time. Christ, everyone in my family hates him, honest. Even James thought Danny was, in his own words, ‘rotting piles on Jabba the Hutt’s butthole’.”

“Nice analogy, you li’l dork,” the blonde remarked, tittering a little, “though I worry how the hell your brother knows what Jabba’s butt looks like.”

“Yeah, exactly. I always thought he was freeze-framing Princess Leia in the gold bikini,” I said, eliciting laughter from the blonde. “I mean, I did.” That cracked her up again.

Naomi propped her head up with one hand and looked at me fixedly, making me melt all the more. “So everyone isn’t really a fan of this Danny?”

“Yeah. I mean, how could Katie not have noticed that?”

“Well, they say love is blind,” Naomi said with a little shrug.

“But she must have been deaf as well not to have heard the gagging that went on whenever she mentioned her boyfriend’s name at home,” I added, making the blonde laugh out loud again.

“We’re total opposites, Katie and I,” I continued, when Naomi seemed to be content with just listening and drinking her beer. “She could be a complete nightmare most of the time but I do honestly love her,” I said with a genuine smile. “Katie’s actually coming over this winter break with the knob. I don’t know whether to be excited or just be purely outraged.”

“Evil twin sister, eh? Should be interesting,” Naomi mused, biting down her lower lip in amusement. Then she added a bit hesitantly, “And, uhm, what does Katie think about the ‘whole gay thing’?”

“Well, she went mad at first but she got past it pretty fast, thank God,” I answered. “Katie even set me up on a date with her best mate Brooke once. How fucking twisted was that, yea? But yeah, I love my sister for sticking up for me. She and Dad and James are actually the biggest supporters of my life choices right now. I really love and respect them a lot for that.”

The blonde smiled. “You sound like you’re really tight with almost everyone in your family. That’s really nice.”

“What can I say, I’m a family-oriented woman.”

Naomi squinted at me. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re trying to impress me?”

“Maybe I am,” I said, smirking a little. “Anyway, enough about me.” I propped my head up with one hand, my face now closely in front of Naomi’s pretty face. “Tell me about your dating life.”

There was a brief tension-filled moment between us before Naomi lay her head back down on the grass. “None of your business,” she muttered.

“Okay, don’t tell me. At least not yet,” I said, mentally scolding myself for being so nosey. “Tell me about Melbourne. About growing up there instead.”

“I already told you I have a cow of a mother and a cougar of an aunt. I love my Caddy. And I hate the bugs. What else is there to share?”

“Tell me anything.”

“It could get really cold,” she said. “Very cold. Like this cold.”

“Are you always this vague?”

She had on that little smirk. “I think a bit of mystery keeps things interesting.”

“Okay.” I cleared my throat loudly. “Does the dickhead want you back?”

Naomi cocked a brow at me. “What does that matter?”

“It doesn’t. Chill. I’m only keeping this conversation going.”

“Then let’s talk about something else.” She looked away and folded her arms over her chest in a sort of defensive move.

“Okay. Um,” I pursed my lips in thought, “Do you like travelling? I mean, I’ve seen your shot glass collection.”

“I do, yes. I love it, in fact. It’s always been my dream to reach every corner of the world. Usually I travel with Grandpa. He just takes me with him to some of his missions.”

“Missions? Cool. What does your Grandpa do?”

“He . . . saves the world. Sort of,” she answered. “He leads an organisation that reaches out to various unfortunate communities worldwide. I told you, he’s in Africa right now. They’re setting up hospitals and schools.”

“That sounds so cool. What places have you been to?”

“A lot.”

“Okay. You’re being vague again.”

“Seriously, like there’s a lot,” the blonde said. “South Africa, Honduras, Cambodia, India, some parts of Europe where I recently did a one-month backpacking trip, Peru, Costa Rica, and blah blah. I travel basically without an itinerary and that’s the best thing about it. It’s my second time here in Japan actually. I’ve been on cultural exchange back in secondary school.”

“Did Japan change?”

“Spring came late then.”

I laughed at this.

“What about you? Have you done some travelling yourself?” Naomi asked.

“Well, um, I did a ten-day tour around Southeast Asia with my family but half of the fucking time we just stayed inside the hotel ‘cos my Drama Queen twin sister kept complaining about the heat. And I’ve been on a Caribbean cruise as well which was a lot of fun.” I saw the look on Naomi’s face and admitted right away, “I know, I know, it’s lame.”

Naomi laughed. “No judgments, only reactions,” she said, and I responded with an eye-roll.

“Okay. Now, tell me about your advocacies,” I continued the revealing conversation. “I mean, I’ve seen the posters on your wall . . .”

Naomi’s right brow rose. “Wow. You’ve seriously inspected my room, huh, Detective Fitch? To answer your question: Education. Children protection. Children rights. Animal Protection. Vegetarianism. Environmentalism. Healthcare. Fighting poverty. Human Rights and Welfare, etcetera. That sort of stuff. But my main concerns are the homeless animals and orphans.”

Wow. So Naomi the Terrible was terribly big-hearted too.

I stared at her, aware that I was wearing a reverent expression. But I couldn’t care less. “You talk like it’s not a big deal when in fact it’s such a bloody impressive thing.”

“I look at it as my duty. So it’s not something to brag about.”

“Well, you’re dealing with animals and kids so your responsibility is certainly much bigger. And I bet you’re great with them.”

Naomi’s brow quirked. “Why would you say that?”

Smiling, I reached over to gently pick a tiny dried leaf from Naomi’s hair. “You may not be aware, but you have an aura of gentleness and patience, Naomi Campbell.”

“Uh-huh. I think you’ve had quite a bit to drink already.” A smile tickled her lips as she lowered her gaze, obviously liking what I just said and did.

“Probably,” I said, putting down my can of beer. I lay my head back down on the grass again and asked, “I have a few more questions. Is that all right?”

The blonde rolled over to her side to face me again, smiling. “Okay. Fire away, Ranga,” she said, and I smiled at the use of the nickname Naomi had decided to give me, knowing that, at least, I mean something to the girl.

I turned onto my side too, a bit excitedly, head propped up on an elbow as I gazed at Naomi’s face and the red lips I had wanted to kiss for so long and still hadn’t. “You mentioned that you’ve kissed a girl . . .”

Naomi suddenly looked uncomfortable, though she did her best to hide it. “Uh-huh. So?”

“Did you like it?”

She was suddenly busy oddly plucking some grass. “Well, it was a bit weird because she was a close friend from uni. And it was just one of those random drunken dares.” She gave a nonchalant shrug. “It was absolute stupidity.”

“But did you like it?” I pushed.

She seemed to hesitate for a moment and moved her feet nervously on the grass. “I did like it a little, yes.”

“Okay,” I said, grinning a bit. “What about JJ? Did you like snogging JJ?”

“Jesus, can we stop this?” Naomi suddenly burst out, scowling at me.

I laughed at her reaction. “Not really. I like getting to know you, Naomi,” I told her. “You okay with that?”

Naomi pressed her lips together. “Fine.”

I motioned to the remaining untouched beer can as I sat up again. My hands were positioned just behind me and tickled the lush greenery. “Fancy the last can of beer?”

“I’d rather not.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to give further emphasis to the rotten Aussie image that we love a drink and drink to get drunk.”

I smirked and grabbed the last beer can. “Oh. Okay. Although my actual impression was how you Aussies look hot. I mean, requiring less items of clothing because of your lovely sun.”

Naomi laughed and I joined in, and I realised I really liked the sound of it.

“Right. You perve.” Naomi sat up as well, our elbows touching. She stretched out her long form.  A wave of comfortable silence befell upon us once more.

“My turn,” Naomi suddenly announced. “Tell me about your past relationship.” 

“Which one?” I sipped the beer coolly.

Naomi drew back. “Why? How many have you had?”

I grinned. “I’m only kidding. There was only one. One girl. But I went out with a guy who turned out to be gay and a couple of other girls who just didn’t get past the first date.”

“Why, you must be picky.”

I placed one leg over the other as I nonchalantly examined at the short nails of my fingers. “I just don’t waste my time on the improbable. I have pretty high standards.”

Naomi snort-chuckled at this, then asked, “What about Effy? Did she pass your high standards?”

An eye-roll. “I’m not interested in Effy.”

She snorted disbelievingly. “Bullshit.”

“I’m not, honest. Me and Effy—we’re just really good friends.”

“But that’s not what it looks like. You two look coupley.”

“Coupley?” I repeated, gobsmacked.

“You spend a lot of time together. She likes to stare at you. Seems to me she’s into you. And vice-versa.”

“Can we not talk about Effy?” I said, shifting on the grass with unease. “That girl confuses the shit out of me.”

“Tell me about your ex-girlfriend, then,” Naomi said. “Does she have long legs?”

“What does that matter?”

“It doesn’t. I’m just trying to keep our little chat going, too,” she said, and I laughed at this.

I raised my chin. “Taylor’s tall, if you must know.”

“Is she hot?”

“Super hot.”

“Is she a decent person?”

I considered my answer. “Well, a lot of people seem to think so. I mean, she was the boarding school’s It Girl.”

“And what do you think?”

I stared off into the distance. Something in my heart pricked. I pushed a lock of red hair to one side. “I think . . . that you’re right. Perhaps we shouldn’t talk about this.”

Naomi snort-laughed, then spread her arms as if taking in the trees and the sky. “This place is just lovely . . . peaceful . . . I mean, if I’m feeling fucking lousy about something, I go take a walk and it practically always helps. This definitely is the place to go.”

“You mean, place to run to?”

She gave me a little shove on the shoulder. “Shut up.”

I looked over at Naomi again. Her gorgeous blond hair waved in the slight breeze as her bright blue eyes stared out at the river.

“Does your ex plan to terrorise the Land of the Rising Sun?” I asked, breaking the brief moment of silence.

Naomi gave me a look. “Are we back to this again?”

I gave a shrug. “Speaking as your Friend for Life, I only care about your welfare. I don’t want you in danger.”

The blonde rested one stretched leg over the other. “I appreciate your concern, Emily, but I’m a big girl. And I’m older than you.”

“Only two years.”

She leaned backward onto her elbows. “Still, I’m older. Not that it matters, but he did plan on coming. Several times already. I always just talk him out of it. Why ask?”

“Nothing.”

“Threatened already?” She lifted a teasing brow.

“Why would I be? I believe that my charm is so hard to resist.”

“Fucking figjam,” I heard her mutter, and I laughed.

My gaze wandered toward a couple of great egret birds on the other side of the river, and I could sense Naomi casting me a sidelong glance.

Suddenly, she nudged my shoulder. “So how do you do it, Ems?” the blonde asked out of the blue, shooting me a sideways look. “I mean, is it as crazy as the stuff you see on lesbian porn?”

I shot her a fake chastising look. “Naomi Campbell, you watch lesbian porn?”

Cue the very funny look from the sarcastic blonde. “I don’t, but I have more or less an idea based on second-hand information,” she answered. “Is it all dildos and strap-ons, though?”

I let out a laugh first. “Okay, first of all, eighty percent of those stuff you see on porn are pure, utter bollocks. Those ridiculous shenanigans don’t really happen in real-life, okay? Making love with another girl is like, I don’t know, it gives you an indescribable sort of high. A woman’s touch is magical. It’s like there’s an unspoken energy. But yeah, there are different ways of going about it—the sex. It could be tender and sensual and passionate and wild erotic as you want.” I shrugged, staring down at my shoes. “For extra effect, you can use oils and stuff . . .” With a bolt of realisation, my face instantly flushed as red as my hair. Oh, God, did I just tell her all of that?

Naomi lifted her head. “Oils, eh?” she repeated, biting her lower lip, fighting a smile.

I smiled, my cheeks getting hot. “Yeah, and stuff.”

“Oilzzz . . .” A playful smirk formed on her lips as she tinkered with her empty beer can.

“Yeah, lots of it,” I said lightly. “Oilzzz . . .”

“Where else do you put it, oilzzz?”

I let out a silly giggle. “On salad.”

“Salad. Mmm.” Naomi licked her lips. “Now I’m hungry again.”

We both dissolved into giggles. Naomi looked obviously buzzed. Scrambling to my feet, I dusted off my skirt and pulled Naomi up with me. “C’mon, you drunk munching machine,” I said between calming breaths. “I’ll fix you some Fitch Salad.”

“Fitch Salad, huh?” Naomi echoed with an arched brow and an amused smirk.

“Better than Garibaldis, hun. Waaay better.” I winked at her then held out my arm. “After you, Lady Campbell.”

Naomi traipsed off, but stopped to turn around. “No,” she said with a smile that melted my insides, and reached for my hand. “Together.” She entwined her fingers with mine and we walked side by side.

I was bursting with happiness. It’s about time I introduce Naomi to Fitch salad, hoping it would lead her straight to my heart, hoping it would finally seal the deal.

“Look, Ems.” Naomi stopped and pointed upward. A solitary cloud drifted by, like a curtain pulling aside to reveal the beginning of a long-anticipated Broadway show. The constellation of the Seven Sisters marched across the sky.

“It’s funny how the stars only look so good when you look at them from afar, yea?” she said, smiling sadly at the sky.

“What do you mean?”

She bit her lower lip sadly. “Because they only twinkle from afar,” she replied, untangling her fingers from mine. “Without the wind, stars are just plain boring, dull pieces of rock. They’re so much better at a distance, beyond anyone’s reach . . .”

“I don’t know,” I whispered, reaching for her hand again. “I actually like the rough edges. I like the flaws . . .”

Naomi looked at me for a moment, stared, her blue eyes twinkling. Then she tugged me and we started down the riverbank again, dopey little smiles tickling the corners of both our mouths.

“So, technically, you’re, like, closeted in your house?” Naomi asked as I got busy slicing some carrots on the kitchen counter. Thank god, the alcohol seemed to have magically left my system. I’m not sure about Naomi, though.

“Something like that,” I answered. “It’s either I keep my lady-loving ways to myself or it’s Mum throwing stuff around the house. Being a lesbian doesn’t fit the image of the daughter my mother wants. She has certain ideas about how her kids should become, you know.”

“I take it you and your mum don’t really see eye to eye.”

“My mother? You’d have to know her to understand.”

“Maybe she’s just jealous,” said the Aussie girl. “Here you are, making your own life with your own goals and dreams, dreams independent of the world you grew up in, the world she expected you to live in—simply because she did. It takes balls to do something different, and maybe she’s just disappointed in herself.”

It was something I’d never considered.

“I . . . don’t think so.”

“Why not? Have you ever asked her?”

I looked over my shoulder behind me at the blonde, who looked so effortlessly gorgeous even when she’s merely seated on a chair, drinking a bottle of isotonic drink. “Whether she felt disappointed in herself? No fucking way. And don’t tell me you’d confront your mother like that because—”

“I do, actually. I tell her everything.”

“Everything?”

Naomi smiled. “Yep. Every single thing.”

“Good for you, then.” I went back to slicing the carrots, feeling a little sad that I’m nowhere near my mother-daughter relationship goals.

“I still think she’s jealous of you,” Naomi went on. “I mean, you’re breaking free and getting adventurous.”

A snort from me. “Adventurous? You’re the first person who’ve described me as such.”

“You’re here in a different country with a bunch of strangers, aren’t you? And you’re making a salad for a girl who could be an axe murderer. These are new challenges.” Naomi suddenly appeared next to me by the counter and picked up a big carrot slice, took a bite and coolly mumbled, “I think it’s admirable.”

A smile tickled the corners of my lips. “Thank you, I think. And you’re standing there waiting to be fed by a girl who could be spiking your food with some drug and then take advantage of your body while you’re unconscious,” I said, making her crack up. Then I faked a cautious look. “But you’re not really an axe murderer, are you?”

Naomi laughed again and gave my hair a quick ruffle. “Christ, you’re adorable!” She went back to go sit at the table and carried on giggling.

After quickly fixing my hair, I poured the special dressing over the sliced vegetables. “I used to think that I was going to be stuck in Bristol, you know. I mean, of course, the idealistic side of me dreamt of living in a rock-star villa with a kick-ass wife, all loved up and cosy, but I have to be realistic. I drew my own five-year plan, you see.”

“Ah, yea? What’s that?” Naomi asked, amused.

“Work as much as I can in the diplomatic service or something, buy a swanky house near my parents’, run the gauntlet of eligible women my sister has drummed up for me or meet a nice career woman in a lesbian bar somewhere in North London, get a dog—just living the normal, boring, domestic life, you know what I mean? But now, I’m not sure anymore. There’s just a lot of new doors that have been opened and I believe in exploring more options and aiming high.”

“You’d have a lot in common with my grandpa. He says aiming high means you either crash and die, or punch through the clouds. Grandpa’s more a cloud kind of guy.”

I took a handful of salad greens and meticulously placed them in the bowl. “Sounds like a pretty outstanding character.”

“He sure is,” Naomi said with granddaughter pride. “It’s interesting, right? I bet every one from HEP came here for different reasons. I came out here to start afresh and you moved away from home to make it on your own here.”

“Yes,” I agreed, “and Cook came here to find more girls to harass. Halo came here to amp more shit up. And JJ flew here to freak more people out.”

There was a short pause. Suddenly both of us erupted into giggles.

“Okay. That was funny,” Naomi said finally, still chuckling.

I arched a teasing eyebrow. “You didn’t seem to think so when you were kissing JJ.”

Cue another very funny look from the blonde. “I was drunk. It was a drinking game,” she said so defensively. Then she tapped her steel fork on the wooden table loudly with impatience. “Now shut up already and just make me that salad.”

I was drizzling a bit of extra-virgin olive oil and a few more dressing on the salad when Naomi spoke again.

“So . . . tell me something about this Fitch salad. Just a little preview before I actually dig in.”

“Okay. Well, uhm,” I grabbed the bowl from the counter and started toward the table, “Dad would always prepare the special ‘Fitch salad’ every Sunday. It has been my favourite since I was a little kid. At the dining table, Katie and I would constantly beg Dad to share the recipe of the salad and the unique dressing. For years, I couldn’t figure out what’s the secret ingredient that makes it stand out from the rest. And so when I was thirteen,” I leant over to put the salad bowl down in front of Naomi, “I made a deal with him. He told me he would teach me how to make the salad if and only if I join the school’s music club. It’s really ridiculously shallow but I actually took the bait and worked on it seriously. And even if singing onstage freaked me out like hell, I managed to stay in the club for four long years.”

Naomi narrowed her eyes at the bowl of salad then at me, intrigued. “So am I ever gonna find out the secret ingredient?”

I straightened up. “The Great Naomi Campbell once told me, ‘A bit of mystery keeps things interesting.’”

Naomi laughed. “A’right. Fair enough.” Excitedly, she forked some salad from the bowl and ate.

I sat down across the table from her and for some quite moments, I only watched Naomi eat, thoroughly amused by the way she silently enjoyed the salad.

“So, what’s the verdict?” I asked, watching her as she forked the last bit.

Naomi stood up with the empty bowl. “Let me start off by saying, ‘I’m now craving for seconds’. I loved it. Enjoyed it to the very last bite,” she told me with a dazzling smile that was all too rare and way too attractive as she moved to put the bowl down in the kitchen sink. “And whatever that secret ingredient is, it did a good job. I had a hard time distinguishing each flavor in the veggie mix and the special dressing. But together they make a truly mind blowing salad dish. Thanks, Ems. Really authentic. I’m impressed.”

I stood up and made my way over to her. “Grammarcy,” I said, doing a curtsy, “You are most kind.”

The blonde snickered. “Who curtsies anymore?”

“I do,” I said with a raised brow. “It’s rather a lovely gesture, don’t you think, your grace?”

Naomi simply snorted and giggled. “Yeah, for toddlers.”

I burst out giggling.

“Are you sure this is okay with your girlfriend?” Naomi suddenly asked. “I mean, us hanging? Where is she, anyway?”

I looked at her in confusion until I realised who she was talking about. “What – Effy? For the bajillionth time, she’s not my girlfriend.”

Naomi shrugged and reached for the sponge but I quickly snatched it from her hand and started scrubbing the dishes.

“So where’s Elizabeth?” she asked again, stepping back.

I sighed and answered her question. “She went to Kobe to see her cousin who’s also on university exchange.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without that eyelinered vixen or those two loony bunnies by your side.”

I let out a small laugh. “Why are you comparing our friends to animals?”

“They’re on point, though, aren’t they? And you, you’re more like a kitten.”

I looked over my shoulder at her. “A fucking what?”

“A kitten. Tiny and seemingly defenceless,” said Naomi. “But even kittens have claws. I bet you’d be fucking slayin’ it in a fight.”

I let out a laugh of disbelief and continued scrubbing. “I don’t fight. And I hardly think, out of all the animals in the world I’m something as bloody boring as a kitten.”

“Okay, fine,” she said, “you’re a red panda.”

“I always thought I was more of a baby unicorn, but a red panda is equally cool.”

“Hmm – no, you’re definitely a panda—and unicorns are mythical creatures.”

“How’d you know they’re mythical? They might have existed once or might still be existing in some universe.”

I was expecting for a witty comeback from the blonde but there was only silence.

Weirded out, I looked behind me and caught Naomi staring at wooden moulding of the doorway, her mind going to some far-off place.

“Naomi?” I called worriedly. 

“I just, uh . . . I just remembered something. Sorry.”

“What is it?”

I actually expected her to dodge my question but I was surprised Naomi opened up instead. “The growth charts in our kitchen back home.” She took two steps forward, then ran her fingers along the woodwork. I swore I saw her eyes glisten. “My nana . . . she used to mark my progress. She and Grandpa would be so proud and happy if I grew half an inch each month. She’d give me stuffed toys and home-made cookies. There’d also be a mark for every birthday, every milestone, until—”

She cut herself off, the silence extending long and empty in the room.

“Until what?”

“Until she died. Then those kinds of things stopped.” She drew in a breath. “Some things stopped that day, but a lot followed too.”

I wanted to reach out to Naomi, to draw her into my arms and erase the pain in her eyes. Instead, I remained where I was, maintaining my distance. “How old were you when she died?” I asked, wiping my hands with a towel even though I was not yet done with the dishes. This was a sensitive topic and will definitely need my full attention, I decided.

Naomi stepped away from the wall, returning to the sink, grabbing two glasses out of the cabinet. “Eight.”

“That must have been—”

“Yeah, it was.” She lifted a glass toward me. “So what do you want to drink, Ranga?”

I couldn’t help but shake my head and sigh. There she goes with putting up another wall. I grabbed the glasses from her hands, put them down on the counter, then grabbed Naomi’s shoulders and steered her back to the table. “Just sit down and relax, your grace,” I said, and she dutifully plopped down into a chair. “Let me take care of everything tonight. Just be my guest.”

Naomi smiled, inordinately pleased. “This . . . this is all very new to me—being pampered, I mean.”

“Then you better get used to it when you’re around me,” I replied, and the blonde looked away with an odd smile. I filled the glasses with oolong tea, added some ice cubes from the freezer then handed her one of the glasses.

She pretended to examine the contents of her glass. “This drink isn’t spiked, is it?”

“Look, under no circumstances am I trying to seduce you.”

No reply again, only a tiny amused smirk on her pretty face.

“What’s that little smirk on your face?” I dared ask, and moved back to the sink.

“Do you always talk like this? Because I swear I never saw you as the talker type, Emily.”

“No. Not really. Just with you.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because you’re interesting. I’m interested in you.”

“You’re the first person who’s told me that.”

“The rest must be blind,” I simply said.

My flirty words filled the heartbeat between us with a coiling, tensing heat. Her eyes locked with mine, and she opened her mouth, looking as if she was certain she’d have a witty reply, as always.

Nothing.

Instead, Naomi stood up and walked toward the kitchen sink again to stand next to me. “Sorry, I can’t just watch your clumsy hands do all the work,” she said with a teasing grin. “Let my magical fingers help.”

Naomi grabbed the sponge from me and started to wash the dishes, with me drying them with a towel. In the midst of the simplicity of our robotic chores, I felt new stirrings of desire in me. It was the seductive smell of her blond hair and the heat of her body. Her breath and the tone of her voice.The contours of her cheeks. The velvety softness of her bare skin, inches away from me. I couldn’t help but be entranced by the movements of her hands. Twice, our hands accidentally touched and one would notice how a simple action could cause such an intense reaction from us both.

I cleared my throat. “So,” I said, forcing a bright tone into my voice as if I hadn’t been affected at all by the last few minutes, “Halloween party’s in three days. Got an outfit already?”

“Yup,” she replied with a sugary smile. “I think I’ll just turn up in my awesome cucumber costume.”

I stopped mid-motion and stared at her. “Are you serious?”

“Nah.” Naomi snort-laughed. “I’m ballsy, but not retardedly ballsy. What about you, Ranga?”

“I’m thinking of something cute,” I said with an unsure lopsided smile.

“No need, Em,” she casually said as she scrubbed on the last greasy bowl. “You’re already cute.” She looked at me and I caught a strange glimmer in her blue eyes. Something close to intimate.

Damn, son. Did she really just say I’m cute? My cheeks instantly turned scarlet. Is Naomi Campbell flirting with me? The little voice in my head posed the question and stunned me speechless. Is she? Naomi’s direct eye contact was so direct that it made my knees turn to Jell-O. My heart picking up the pace, I felt an embarrassing surge of damp between my legs.

God, this woman has power. And I found myself wondering if she was aware of it. How could she not? 

We stared at each other for a few more seconds, the sexual tension of earlier still in the air, waiting to be dealt with.

Then I cleared my throat. “Why, thank you,” I said, moving closer to Naomi. I felt her body stiffen. My voice became huskier as I whispered into her ear, “I try.” I giggled in the end and gave her nose a little boop. I saw goosebumps break out of her skin.

I was reaching for another washed bowl from the sink when, suddenly, water splashed on my face. It was Naomi, sprinkling the gushing water from the faucet onto me.

My mouth dropped open, half surprised and half thrilled. I didn’t think twice to even the score with her. I cupped water in my hands and spattered it onto the snickering blonde.

“Ems!” Naomi squealed. “It’s fucking cold! Jesus!”

It only made me spatter her with more and we went on with getting each other wet through. “Payback’s a right bitch!” I announced, laughing.

“Stop! Ems—!” she squeaked as I gave her some more splashing. Her giggling sounded like music. “Emily! No—!”

Laughing giddily, I snatched a pitcher from a nearby cabinet, filled it with water, and splattered some of the cold water onto the blonde.

Naomi stared at me, her face grim. “Not cool, Fitch,” she said in a low, warning tone. “Not cool at all.” 

I only laughed at her serious face and she charged toward me, snatching the pitcher of cold water from my hand and emptied it on top of my head. She gave a loud, victorious laugh after. I took that chance to strike back again.

We both ended up soaking wet and even the kitchen floor wasn’t excused from the splash-athon. Naomi and I were shaking with laughter, playfully tugging and tickling each other, completely neglectful to the already-sodden floor tiles.

My feet wobbled on the floor and I was about to slip and fall on my arse when Naomi’s pair of strong arms caught me right away. Whoops.

I held on to her and was instantly torn between desire and nervous laughter. Oh, dear God. Me in Naomi’s arms. It felt so fucking good. A soft moan escaped from my lips and our laughter died in our throats. Naomi steadied me against the kitchen counter. Her hands were still clasped around both sides of my hips, mine still gripping her shoulders, and our bodies were touching.

I tried to regain my balance, but Naomi’s intense gaze had turned my legs to jelly again. Oh, God. The sudden chill of my underwear made me realise that I was dripping wet already, just standing in her arms. For a moment, we simply stood there, clutching at each other and looking into each other’s eyes. 

Naomi looked down a minute, and then looked back up returning my gaze. A serious look crossed both of our faces. I stared into Naomi’s light blue eyes. It may have been a trick of the light, but it looked like Naomi was staring back into mine, with the same wistfulness my face was portraying.

God, I wanted to kiss her. Right now. I just had to kiss her. Just the thought of the possibility set off fireworks in my belly, igniting the smouldering embers that had started burning nearly the minute I met the blonde. I waited, searching for some kind of positive reaction from her . . .

There. Right fucking there. Her pupils darkening. Her teeth sinking into her lower lip. Her heart beating wildly in her chest. Her fingers tightening on my damp skin. Her body bending over mine closer and closer . . .

Naomi’s arms glided downward, landed on the small of my back, and pushed me gently against her as she finally leant in, her lips aiming for mine. She’s going to kiss me! Frozen on my feet, I tilted my head then closed my eyes and slightly opened my mouth in anticipation of a crash. I could feel her breathing—warm and tickly. A droplet of water fell from a strand of her hair onto my cheek. It was enough to drive me crazy. 

Then her mouth was inches away from me . . . then centimetres . . . then millimetres . . . then a hairbreadth. My breath hitched. Oh, my G—

A sudden loud fit of giggles from the hallway instantly made us pull away awkwardly from each other.

Fuuuuck. Leaning against the wall in the corner, I clenched my fists and blew a disgruntled breath. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I looked at Naomi out of the corner of my eye. Her hands were rested on the counter, her head bent down and her eyes fixed on the sink. Naomi’s face was a mixture of shock and panic. Then I heard her mutter to herself under her breath, “Jesus. What were you thinking?”

Halo and Effy then appeared from the kitchen doorway. Effy was trying to pacify an obviously pissed Halo who was laughing uncontrollably.

“Heeeey, bitches!” Halo screeched, oblivious to the awkwardness in the room. “Wow! I didn’t know we had a swimming pool in here!” she exclaimed, looking down wide-eyed at the puddles of water on the kitchen floor. She then gave her head a little shake and tried to balance herself. “Okay. Jeez, I thought there’s been an earthquake again but turns out I’m just completely wasted and pooped soooo g’night, girls!” She left us with air kisses before tottering her way to her room.

Naomi and I must have looked like a couple of deers caught in the headlights. Thank God, Halo was blindingly drunk. However, Effy . . .

It bothered me to see that fishy look on her face. The brunette had her back against the kitchen doorframe, staring at the both of us with that mystifying curled lips of hers—a tiny one but seemed to imply countless truths. She then greeted us with a couple of nods. “Naomi. Emily.”

My voice was almost inaudible. “Effy,” I choked. “Hey.”

Effy then walked slowly, almost teasingly, to where I stood then placed a soft, flirty peck on my cheek. The sudden gesture surprised me. I only stood there unmoving, my heart pounding wildly. Then she leant over and whispered into my ear, “So . . . You. Me. Homework. In my room . . .” It wasn’t a request. Effy sure knows what she wants and she goes for it. “. . . On my windowsill. On the rooftop. Wherever you wanna do it, babe.” She punctuated her words with a meaningful wink and her fingers started to play with a lock of my damp hair.

I was sure Naomi heard every subdued word. I saw her squirm, averting her eyes away from us. I was pretty convinced that Effy whispered loud enough for Naomi to hear to flagrantly rouse the blonde. The room was filled with tension now. I couldn’t think of what to do or say, and the brunette’s lips were still inches away from my earlobe.

After a number of tense and awkward seconds, Naomi decided to rupture it. Her voice was shaken.

“Uh, yea, I - uh – I gotta start on the Grammar homework.” With that, Naomi twisted on her heel and hurriedly left the kitchen. With a triumphant little smirk on her face, Effy watched her leave.

When the blonde was out of sight, Effy bent forward a little bit more, her fingers stroking the sides of my face, making my body slightly tremble.

“Effy!” I said, rather loudly, jerking my head away from her hand. “What the fuck? Are you high?”

Effy stepped back, her lips twitched. I instantly felt guilty for shouting at her.

I straightened. My voice softened. “I’m sorry, Ef. I’m just really, utterly mindfucked by you right now.” I was sure I sounded as frustrated as I felt at the moment. “I just don’t get these mixed signals you are sending my way. I mean, do you like me or not? Like, I don’t know what the fuck’s going on, seriously, and what you want from me. It’s driving me insane.” I realised these words came out actually targeting a mindfucking Aussie blonde as well.

Effy only stared at me and bit her lip.

I took both Effy’s hands in mine and looked her straight in the eyes. “Effy, you’re sound and I like you,” I told her in a soft voice. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I think that you’re really gorgeous and smart and lovely and a lot of people would love to be with you but . . .”

But the pretty brunette only nodded her head. “I know. You’re in love with someone.”

I opened my mouth for a response, but nothing came out. I let go of her hands. Elizabeth Stonem really has a way to leave you dumbfounded with her mind games.

Effy smirked. “In case you were curious,” she spoke again, “Miss Peroxide doesn’t have anything going on with JJ or with any other guy.”

“I wasn’t curious.”

“Since you plan to stay single here, right?”

“Right. But even if I’m out to hunt, I wouldn’t have been curious.”

Effy let out a short, raspy laugh. “Yes, of course. How could I have been so wrong? I guess I must’ve been fooled by the way you keep lusting after Naomi like a love-starved puppy.”

“I haven’t been lusting after Naomi like a love-starved puppy.”

“Oh, don’t be ashamed of it,” she said. “After all, she’s been lusting after you like a love-starved puppy, too.”

I covered my face with my hands in embarrassment. “Oh, God. It’s so fucked up, Effy.”

“When do you plan to tell her?” she asked, raising a perfectly curved brow.

I opened my mouth again to speak, but Effy’s face was turned away and her voice went on. “The clock is ticking, Emily. You might want to make a move on Miss Peroxide soon.” And then just before stepping out of the doorway she turned around and added, “And, oh, please don’t try to fail or else everything we’ve fucking worked for is for nothing.” She left me with another meaningful wink that only made my head go spin some more.

I staggered toward the dining table and plopped down on a chair. I found the prior events incredibly exhausting and confounding. I had almost believed they hadn’t happened. It was as if Effy had twisted a lock that let all these new feelings and discoveries pour over me.

In love. I might be. Hopelessly. The thought sent a thrill of discovery, then a lurching, constricting fear through my veins.

Oh, Lord. I’m so screwed.