Halfway Valentine | Chapter III: The Advent of Confusion

"Hey everyone, I'm Freddie. I'm French, amazingly romantic. I’m good with names." The gangly dark-haired lad stood there speaking in an ever-nonchalant manner. "And I'm lactose intolerant."

People gave mixed responses—some stared at him with an odd look whilst some burst out laughing. 

"Hey there! My name's Heaven Lopez. Halo for short. And my parents told me that I was created by my parents inside a circus. How freaking crazy is that, right? Also, my mum told me that when she was pregnant of me, she sort of had an unusual craving for watching spinning things—spinning bulls, spinning wheels, spinning coins, spinning umbrellas, spinning everything!"

More laughter.

I glanced around the room. The lounge was crowded with residents—both old and new—and I was somewhat bowled over as I hadn't seen most of these faces around. The guys and girls were talking, laughing, and just basically trying to make an impression on one another. The noise was deafening but it could not drown my pounding heart.

I was really worried of being unremarkable, of being branded as a loser, of screwing up this chance to start afresh. I could not afford that. I had spent my entire life in the backstage.

The party began with the usual welcome remarks from the dorm managers and the house buddy, and then we progressed to the getting-to-know-you portion where we had to introduce ourselves by sharing some interesting facts about us.

Interesting, I chewed over the word. My life was just about as interesting as an apple peeler's.

"Emily!" 

I turned and saw Sean, making his way toward me. His whole face was bright and eager. "I was looking all over for you. You left school without me."

"Yea, I took off with Freddie, Naomi, and Cook."

He clutched at his heart with mock hurt. "Ouch. How rude."

"I'm sorry." I blushed apologetically. 

"I understand I'm probably not the only guy in your life. But I'd like to make sure I keep my place in the lineup."

I drew back, not sure of what I just heard. "I'm sorry?"

"I, uh—I thought—um—Forget I said anything," he stammered, and his face grew red. "Anyway, I got you this." He fished something out of the pocket of his jacket and held it out to me. 

I stared at the present in astonishment. What the hell was happening here?

Sean smiled at me. "I was at Family Mart and saw this cute little Sakura keychain. It reminded me of you."

I tried to return his smile. "Wow. Thanks," I said, taking the pink-haired heroine keychain quite hesitantly. This was weird. Incredibly weird. 

"I was gonna get female Ranma, but then she's too, you know, bad-ass for you," he went on. "So . . . you hungry already? Do you want me to get you a plate or something?" 

Okay. So now he was acting like a creepy boyfriend. This was ridiculously getting out of hand. It was time for me to set the record straight.

I took a few steps backward. "Sean? I'm just gonna lay it on the line here," I said. "That whole flirting thing at the pub last night was a big mistake."

Sean stared down at his drink. "I know."

"You what?" I asked. I wasn't expecting this to be easy.

"Look, I'm sorry," Sean said, shoving one hand down into his jeans pocket. "I don't normally move that fast. I mean, not when I really dig someone. From here on out, I promise to take things more slowly."

I froze, letting his words sink in. Really dig someone? From here on out? Could he be any more flattering?

"So when can we go out just the two of us?" Sean asked, his eyes sparkling.

I arched one eyebrow. "That's your version of taking it slow?"

"I hold Papa Murphy's record for fastest deluxe pizza-eating in Riverbend," Sean said with a grin. "I have a skewed definition of slow." 

He was looking at me in a way that made me feel uncomfortable. I glanced helplessly at the ceiling, trying to avoid his gaze. "Sean," I said as politely as I could, "you, me—it's just not gonna happen. I’m sorry." 

"Why not?" he said, sipping his beer.

I forced myself to meet his gaze. "I'm just not interested right now."

"Okay. But at least tell me why you don't find me interesting." He closed the distance I had put between us.

I lowered my head and picked at an imaginary piece of lint on my blue top. "Sean, I'm . . ." I couldn't say it. Yet.

"I have to get a refill," I said, hurrying past him before he could protest. "Thanks for the keychain, though. You’re really sweet."

I rushed toward the drinks corner and busied myself with concocting some sort of cocktail. When I caught Sean watching me like a prowling tiger, I hurriedly flipped my phone open and rang the first contact on my Recent Call Log.

"Cass, you've got to save me from Sean," I whispered impatiently into the phone.

"Who's Sean?" she asked, then remembered a second after, "Ah! Sean! The poor beard." 

"Yes. Sean. The poor beard."

"I'm kind of in the middle of something, Emily. I can't talk right now," she told me. "I'm crouched behind a bloody ficus plant."

"What on Earth are you up to?" I asked in bafflement.

"I'm looking at my new crush—the jogger with mismatching socks. He's looking mighty fine in damaged jeans, drinking his hot Chai Tea Latte."

"Oh, good God Almighty," I gasped in shock. "You have no soul, Cassandra Halfpenny. Even when the bloke's having breakfast?"

"Brunch," she corrected. "He'd always have brunch and then he'd go to the magazine stand right across the street to get his daily dose of The Sun."

I just couldn't believe it. "Oh. My. God—"

"Shhh. Be quiet," she scolded in a whisper. "I'm trying to be subtle. He's now bending over to tie his Sperry Top-Sider boot . . . God, he's so perfect . . . so fit . . . so lush . . ." I heard her let out a dreamy sigh.

"You've got to help me," I pleaded desperately, and moved to the other end of the buffet table.

Cassie snickered. "Why? What's he done?"

"The guy just gave me a keychain."

"Oh, my fucking Zeus! Cweepy Boothroyd II?"

She was referring to Brooke Boothroyd, Katie's wild and wealthy bisexual BFF. Brooke had earned the nickname "Cweepy." She was the owner of the fabulous coattails my sister had been hanging on to and the first girl my sister had set up for me to date. She was sound and cute and a gracious money bag who flashes her gold charge card anywhere for her friends, but she was a bit obsessive with lunatic tendencies. After one crappy date, she had made us matching custom-made bracelets, had vandalised my Facebook wall with hearts and cheesy messages, and had threatened to change her Facebook status to In a relationship with Emily Fitch.

"Yep," I confirmed nervously, taking a big gulp of my self-made drink.

"No fucking way!" Cassie said emphatically. It was so nice to hear a familiar voice. It was so nice to have my loony best friend to share my troubles with.

"Yes. It's annoying. And frightening. Apparently, I've been branded here as the most sought-after new girl. It's ridiculous." 

"It does sound ridiculous . . . I forgot to ask, is he cute?"

"Cassie!"

"All right, all right! I guess I can't blame you," Cassie responded. "So because I'm your very best mate, I'll guard you from this Sean lad. And what's more, I'll also tell you the very latest on your saintly sister and her gang of skanks."

"Uhh . . . Not interested." I reached for a piece of Halo’s deviled eggs but thought twice as it looked a bit weird and unreliable.

"No, but this is legit news. I heard that Brooke's parents' marriage has gone FUBAR. I reckon they're getting a divorce."

"Cassan—Holy . . ."

My heart skipped a beat when I saw a certain blonde enter the room. Fuck. All Naomi Campbell has to do is enter the room and my internal temperature rises twenty degrees.

"Emily?" I heard Cassie calling.

"I have to go," I said, finishing the drink in my cup. "Something's come up."

"It's the Blonde Babe, isn't it? She has landed on Earth. Christ, you have a serious thing for the blonde."

I felt my face heat up. "Shut up," I muttered through clenched teeth.

"Oh, it is!" Cassie giggled. "Oh, Emily. You're such a saucy Halfling! How come—"

"Shhh. Stop squealing." I covered the phone with my other hand.

"I'm just too happy for you, babe!"

"Isn't it that you told me to not fall in love with her? She might be straight and I might be going after another heartbreak."

"Don't be daft! Let's see . . . umm, the tatts! Check out if she has any tatts."

I did. And spotted one.

"Omigod. She has one, she has one,” I whispered into the phone. “On the side of her left foot."

"What is it?"

"Uhh . . . Looks like some sort of a flower with a butterfly."

"Butterflies signify renewal. Which could mean Blonde Babe’s going through a drastic change,” mused Cassie. “Maybe she's gearing up to be a full-fledged lesbian to cater Emily Fitch's needs." 

I couldn't help sniggering. "Cassie! You sicko!"

"Well, it's definitely a nice lead,” my best friend said. “How about the footwear? Is she wearing Birkenstocks?"

"Cassie!"

My best mate maintained her serious tone. "I'm not joking. That matters, Em."

I studied Naomi’s feet. Her clean, pretty feet. "No. Flip-flops."

"What is she eating right now?"

My eyes moved up to look at the plate in her hand. "Salad . . . just a bunch of vegetables."

"Brilliant!" Cassie exclaimed. "She's a vagitarian! My Sappho-metre is going wild now, Emily!"

I clapped a hand to my mouth to stop a hysterical giggle. "Cass!"

"Okay, okay! Any other clues?"

"Hm . . . I don't know,” I said, chewing my lower lip. “She seems to hate me?"

She clicked her tongue sadly. "I don't know, Ems. There's something wrong with that girl if that is true. Nobody hates an Emily Fitch."

"I know."

"She might just be a straight-up bad-ass bitch. Guard your heart, Ems. You cannot afford a second heartbreak."

"I know."

I stared at the blonde, a frown on my face. Naomi ran a hand through her hair, displacing the blond locks. On any other girl, the move would have looked unkempt, messy. But on Naomi, it gave her a look of vulnerability. Her shoulders seemed weighed down, as if there were two tons of worries sitting on them. For a second, I wanted to cross the room and tell her she would be fine.

Which was completely insane. I didn't know that and couldn't promise her something I had zero control over. I could barely work my own life, never mind someone else's.

Karen appeared in the lounge, followed by Mr. and Mrs. Yoshida. The room boomed with cheering. The Head of House aka The Boss had finally arrived.

I spoke low into the phone, "I'm sorry but I have to go, Cass. Thanks for having my back, though. I'll just update you if there's some progress, 'kay?" I flipped my phone closed and shoved it into the back pocket of my skirt.

Naomi wore an above-the-knee baby blue cotton shorts that made her legs seem longer, barer, sexier. It drew my gaze to her thighs, then upward, past her waist, along the thin black fabric of her tank top, to those vibrant blue eyes. Her golden hair framed her face, then settled around her shoulders in tousled waves like she'd only just got out of bed from an afternoon nap.

I felt someone nudge me in the ribs. "She's kind of cute, don't you think?" My Cool New Friend Halo appeared next to me, sipping a cocktail drink.

I turned to my friend. "Who?" 

"That girl from Australia." Halo smirked.

"You mean Naomi?"

I glanced at the blonde. She plopped down into a chair next to an ever-babbling JJ, drawing one leg up beneath her, apparently unaware of what such a move could do to my blood pressure.

"Yea. Naomi Campbell. Gosh, how could I have forgotten? Dumb old me." Halo smacked her forehead with the palm of her hand. "Same name as the bad-ass supermodel, yea?" she said. "She's dead hot."

"Who? The supermodel or our dorm mate?"

"Does it matter? They're both hot," Halo answered. "Especially Naomi Campbell The Dorm Mate, right?"

My mouth went dry. "I  . . . didn't notice."

The corners of Halo's mouth curled up slightly. "Yea, sure you didn't. I'd be willing to bet you've noticed it. I saw the way you were ogling her."

I stiffened instantly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I was teasing! My, you're really touchy!" Halo said, laughing, giving my shoulder a little playful shove. And my panicky eyes darted to Effy who was leaning against a wall nearby, looking at us with that amused smirk of hers. It was as if she had been observing our little banter for quite a while.

"'Ello there, mollies!" It was the Irish lad's turn. "Smee Cook. I have a mate named Cookie Monster an’ he wants to get to know all of ya foxy babes, too, so . . ." He wiggled his eyebrows in suggestion, winking at random girls.

It was official: I am screwed. I was not that witty. I was not that cheeky. I would definitely end up a complete fucking pisstake tonight if I don't come up with something remotely ‘interesting.’ What was I supposed to say now? I had the lamest life amongst humankind. I just fancied reading books and going to museums, sang in a choral group, and worked as a bookstore cashier this summer break. Shitting hell. Should I tell them that I've never had a boyfriend? Hell, no. Should I blurt out that I went to an all-girls boarding school wherein I earned a great deal of 'experience' points? No way. Should I finally reveal I'm a muff-diver? Fuck. Everything about me screams gay! 

But I couldn't deal with that yet . . . Everything would turn upside-down for sure.

"Emily. Your turn," Halo whispered, nudging me with her elbow.

All eyes swiveled toward me, a human spotlight far brighter than any that had shone during Lady Gaga concerts. My heart froze in my chest.

Okay, here goes . . .

I gulped. "Hi. I'm Emily . . . I . . . uh . . . I'm not lactose intolerant. I can't do multiple cartwheels. I don't have a mate named Cookie Monster. But what I do have is a twin sister who is nothing like me." My words tumbled out in a nervous rush.

"Shit the bed!" Cook exclaimed, grinning like an idiot, his mouth and hands full of food. "Two rosspot Emilies, eh? Now I'm focking horned up!" 

I could only smile halfheartedly at the mini-commotion I had caused. Then, sensing the mania was over, I quickly slunk into an empty chair in the corner.

Okay. That wasn't too bad, I thought. I can probably make it through this day without being called a dork.

At least I got some reaction from Cook and hoots from quite a few guys too so it wasn't really that lame. I took a sip of some drink I just grabbed from the table, and held my breath in anticipation of a revelation from the girl of my dreams . . .

"Um, yea. I'm Naomi and I'm just really fucking confused right now."

The lounge party just ended and I sat here slouched in the kitchen, staring down at my tub of Ben & Jerry’s mint chocolate cookie ice cream, my head burning up with thoughts. The gang announced that there would be an after-party on the roof deck. I bet some of them are up there already, drinking their faces off. You know how after-parties are always better, wilder, and more action-packed . . . So, I should be thrilled, yea? But with the possibility of Naomi Campbell being up there, I don't know if I could manage to take normal breaths . . .

“I'm Naomi and I'm just really fucking confused right now.”

People laughed when Naomi blurted this out. They thought she was just messing around. But I saw the glint in her eyes when she uttered the words and I could tell that she was ‘really fucking confused.’ And even though she snorted at the end of her speech and sounded indifferent, I could sense the truth in every word that came out of her lips. And, fuck, she wouldn't even look at me and was avoiding me throughout the party . . .

Fucking hell, Naomi. Seriously, what kind of game are you playing? I can only puff an exasperated breath.

“I'm just really fucking confused right now.”

'Confused'? What the hell did she mean by that? 'Confusion' is an awfully vague word as it could be brought about by innumerable things. She could have used 'puzzled' or 'mystified.' At least with 'puzzled,' you know that it's made up of pieces that could be connected, eventually leading to the puzzle being solved. At least with 'mystified,' you can 'demystify' and just like that, solved.

But 'confusion'? I stabbed the spoon into the ice cream and buried my head in my hands. Fuck's sake. Now I’m the one confused.

“Emily Fitch? Why are you hiding in here and eating ice cream alone when the fun's up there?”

I turned my head around and saw a concerned-looking Halo in the kitchen doorway. A look I wasn’t used to.

“I'm not hiding. I was just . . . thinking,” I said, sitting up in my chair and forcing a smile at her.

“About what?” Panda probed, appearing behind her.

“Everything,” I answered quietly, and Halo laughed at this. “Don't you guys feel like your life is suddenly on fast-forward?”

Halo walked over to me, with a bouncy Panda trailing after her. “All the time, Emily. But that doesn't mean you have to pull back or press slow-mo. You can get on,” she said wisely, putting a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “I mean, you have to get on, girl.”

“Yes, Emsy. You have to,” Panda echoed, smiling encouragingly. “You know what Einstein said, ‘Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving.’”

I leant back in my chair and gave them a small smile, touched by my new friends’ concern. “I guess you're right. Maybe I just need to get used to all of this . . .”

Beside me, Halo leant on the edge of the table. “You seriously should stop thinking and just go with the flow. Defaulting to over-thinking does you no good.”

“I just got overwhelmed,” I explained. “It’s too much, you know.”

“I honestly don't understand why you don't get a kick out of all the attention.” Halo grabbed the spoon from the tub and took a mouthful of the ice cream. “So it could only be two things: a) You're simply unaware of guys lusting after you, or b) You're just not interested.”

“I'm just not interested. There.” I let my hands rest on the table.

Halo nodded, the area around her eyes wrinkling with amusement. “Okay. Fair enough,” she mumbled, mouth full of ice cream. She gave me a sideways glance then wiggled her eyebrows. “So . . . twin sister, eh?”  

I bit my lip. “Yea. Sorry. Couldn't think of a better introduction.”

Panda beamed. “Nonsense. It's actually so wick, Emily.”

Halo took another scoop of ice cream then asked cheerfully, “So are you two identical?”

I had to think about it. “Duplicate images on the outside, yes—from head to toe. Although I've got red hair now. But we're different on the inside as two can possibly be.”

“Bonkers!” Panda exclaimed in excitement, her blond pigtails swinging.

Halo laughed brightly. “Interesting. So she's the less nice one, I'm guessing. Because if she's nicer than you then she must be in some monastery already.”

I felt my bleak mood vanish instantly. “People seem to think so, yes.”

“Double bonkers!” Panda squeaked. “Where's the meaner Emily?”

“She's back in England and working on her dream of becoming a well-known fashion designer.”

“Cool,” Halo remarked. “She’s the one who designed your shoes, right?”

“Yep.”

“Yea, she must be very cool.”

I had to agree. “Yea, people seem to think so.”

“Halo, Panda.” Grunwald poked his head into the kitchen and spoke in his usual lethargic tone as if he was always stoned. “They're starting with the barbecue. You two are in charge of that, right?”

“Yep, I'm on it.” Halo stood up straight then returned the spoon into the tub. Then she turned to me. “So, we'll see you up there, Emily?”

I didn’t know how to reply. “Uh . . . I don’t know.”

Panda pouted. “But it’s gonna be super duper fun, Emily!”

“I – I – I don’t know, you guys. I mean.” I don’t even know why I was saying no in the first place! People like me probably don’t deserve friends.

“Meet new people, try new things, remember?” Halo reminded me.

“I—”

“Please! Please, please come join us. Please?” Panda begged, taking my hands. “Please, Emily. We’re gonna make you a super duper special kebab, I promise.”

I nodded after a moment. “Okay, alright. I’ll see you there.” Their faces brightened at my answer and I watched the two girls happily skipping away.

I was just returning my half empty carton of ice cream into the fridge when a loud howling voice took me by surprise.

“Emiliooooooooooooo!”

It was Cook. Wearing a stupid-looking beer drinking helmet.

Sean and Thomas appeared behind him, carrying a beer bong and cans of beer. These people are very dangerous, Emily, I mentally warned myself. I had tried beer bong once at a wild party that Katie had dragged me into. It wasn't a particularly pleasant experience, that is all.

Cook howled on, knocking on every door. “Let’s get focking mentaaaaal! Come on, fuckers!”

Sean keenly walked over to me and grabbed my hand. “Emily, c'mon. Let’s go!” He tugged me toward the doorway.

I stopped short, wary. “Where?”

“To the rooftop,” he said as if it was a rhetorical question.

I held up my hands in a ‘Hold on’ gesture. “Okay. But let me clarify something, Sean, okay? I'm not—”

“Interested.” Sean smiled, nodding his head. “Yep. Got the message already, Emily,” he said lightly. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t hang and have a great time together, yea?”

“Don't forget this is purely a mate-mate relationship,” I said in the nicest tone I could give. “It's not going any further. So you can forget all those things you've heard about me. I'm not like that.”

Sean nodded again, smiling. “Okay. I got that. You can forget about all that awkwardness. But right now I want you to come with us because you want to have fun and not give a fuck. Period.”

His reply made me smile. “Okay.”

Sean gave me a thumbs-up. “Okay?”

I nodded. “Okay.”

“I'm glad that's been decided,” Thomas interrupted, grinning. “And now may I take this opportunity to point out all these happy people drinking their faces off on the rooftop? I think it's time to join them.”

Sean and Thomas both gentlemanly offered their arms for me take.

New people, new things.

I think I can take both.

Okay. Forget what I said about the lounge, I thought dreamily as I reached the roof deck. This forbidden rooftop shall be my refuge from now on.

Even in the middle of the night, the view was just breathtaking: the silhouettes of the distant hills, the shadows of the trees, the silent neighbourhood, the dimly-lit gardens, the enchanting moon, and the fascinating assemblages of stars. I could sleep up here every night and just thrust all my worries aside even though right now the place sounds like it is being invaded by a herd of buffalo.

I smelled grilled meat. Mmm. After being chatted up a bit by a German bloke named Stefan as soon as I climbed out of the rooftop door, I heard familiar voices and some cheering.

“Emily Fitch, hey! Over here! Your kebab is waiting!” I spotted Cool New Friend Halo and Panda by the grill and walked over to them right away. I never really got the chance to have a decent chat with Panda so I took the opportunity and was surprised that I actually had a great time just fooling around and eating barbecue with both girls. Then, after quite a few mouth-related activities, I decided to settle on a mat across all the commotion. I just wanted some breathing space.

The lads were on the floor playing a card game that I had no intention of learning about because it involved an awful lot of (1) cussing, (2) drinking through a bong, and (3) stripping. I glanced around, trying to find a certain blonde . . . but to no avail. Only one thing was running through my mind as I sat there: Where could she be?

I turned my head and spotted a rowdy group rounding to the side of the roof deck. Chatters and shouts rang out as a gang of blonde blokes emerged. Then a group of Chinese girls were huddled in another corner. I knew I had met some of them already but had a hard time telling them apart. My head was spinning.

“Getting confused, are we?”

“Huh?” I froze.

A tall guy appeared at my shoulder. It was Freddie, lighting up a cigarette between his lips.

“It’s easy to distinguish them, believe it or not,” he said, pocketing his Zippo lighter then sitting on the mat next to me. “That’s Sofia, Holly, Dianne, Mai Ly, and JJ—our unconventional resident ladies’ man. Chelsea is the cute girl with notable bangs. Alma Gomez, the Mexican chick with the curly hair. And obviously, you remember James Cook.”

I smirked. “He’s quite a character. How could I not?”

Freddie leaned closer and discreetly pointed with his cigarette. “Flaviana, Vera and Mandy are the tall ladies over there. Bogdan, Luke, and Oliver are the UFC fighter-looking ones. Jake Wu and Grunwald are the skinny lads—Grunwald is also rather grungy. And Hucker and Rosario are the healthy ones.”

The corners of my mouth curled up slightly. “Healthy?”

He slipped the cancerstick in between his lips. “I didn’t want to call them hefty. But I was just trying to make it easy for you, Rouge. In theory, I’d hate being introduced to a bunch of people and forgetting their names a minute later.”

“In theory?”

He puffed smoke from the cigarette. “I don’t forget names, like I said at the party earlier. It’s kind of strange, but I never do. I swear.”

“What makes you think I’d forget their names?”

Freddie shrugged. “You’re not me.”

I laughed, liking him more by the minute. “How about that group with Cook?” I pointed at a group of guys playing cards.

“That’s Ugo, Martin, Cormack, and Elliot. Two of them French.”

“Nice. What about the crowd of Chinese girls over there?”

“Su Yin, Liu Shan, Xiao-Ling Chan, Mei Lin. Jia Ying is actually Taiwanese. One of them is Korean—Eun Hee.”

“Wow. That’s hardcore, Freddie,” I said, impressed.

He took a quick drag on his cigarette. “All right. Try these memory association tricks. With Mai Ly, just imagine Miley Cyrus because they have the same weird voice.”

I nodded.

“Okay, for Dianne, think of Drew Barrymore’s character from Charlie’s Angels, Dylan. Green-eyed, fearless and always finds the good in people. She’s really nice. For Thomas, a lot of geniuses are named Thomas so you could just easily associate him with that. And for Bob Tanner—who’s kind of big and square, think of Spongebob Squarepants. ”

“Okaaay . . .”

“I’m serious, Rouge. This’ll really help. Now, for Miguel and Martin, imagine M&M’s. Both from South America. Both plays football. Practically like twins, you know.”

I nodded again.

“Pandora Moon with the pigtails—well, her name is weird, much like her character. For Sean and Halo, imagine GI Joe versus Hello Kitty. Really picture it, okay?” he said, and I laughed so hard at this.

“What about Effy?” I asked, and realised that the brunette was absent as well.

His eyes moved slightly to the left as if expecting someone to come out of the rooftop door as he blew out a puff of smoke and then replaced the cigarette at his lips. “Elizabeth Stonem.” He inhaled then released a cloud of smoke, ashes trailing from the butt of his cigarette. “Effy . . . hmm . . . Effy is a little effed up, I think.”

I laughed again. “Yea, she is an enigma. A puzzle in herself.”

Then his eyes lit up a little. “Or . . . She’s like the Eiffel Tower. Leggy, modelesque, just plain eye-catching . . . and out of everyone’s league, I guess.”

“Or she’s just stony, you know—from Stonem,” I put in. “She’s like stone cold.”

“Good one, Emily,” he said, chuckling a bit and nodding in agreement.

“What about Naomi?” I asked. Merely saying the name had already released half a bunch of butterflies in my stomach.

“Naomi is easy. Just think—”

“Naomi Campbell?”

“The British model, yes. They have the same temper, obviously. And both are drop-dead gorgeous,” he said. “You might want to be careful talking around Aussie Naomi, though, especially when it comes to political and social issues. She's pretty hardcore at that. One wrong opinion or argument could be your death.”

I chewed over his insights as the French bloke puffed on. Freddie was really talented at observing people. “How do you know them so well?” I asked him.

“The perks of being a wallflower and a loner, you know. I can just sit back and observe people in peace. That’s what I do—people watching.”

It took me a minute—and Freddie had to repeat the descriptions more than once—but when I was ready, he quizzed me on the names. Amazingly, the names stuck, and I couldn’t hide my surprise.

“Cool, huh?”

“Incredibly,” I admitted.

“It’s one of the areas I study at uni.”

“Do you do this with everyone you meet?”

“Not deliberately. Or rather, not consciously. For me, it comes almost naturally. But now you’ll really impress them.”

“Do I need to impress them?”

“No. But it’s fun to impress people, anyway.” He shrugged. “Think about what I just did for you.”

“What about yours?”

He flicked his cigarette butt to the floor. “Freddie. Just Freddie.”

“What? No memory tricks?”

“No. That one, you’ll have to remember, mon amie.” He got to his feet. “I’m gonna go play cards. Do a little socialising. You wanna join?”

“No. I’m good here.”

“A'right. Later, Rouge.” He gave me a slight nod of farewell then backed away. 

Boring? I mulled over the word, as I waved away the puff of smoke the French lad left. Freddie wasn’t boring at all. In fact, he was probably one of the most interesting people here on the rooftop.

“OI, FREEEEEAKS! This ain’t called a party without moi!” Karen finally showed up, holding up about five plastic bags filled with tequila, vodka, and topnotch beer. The gang roared and cheered. More people appeared after her but I couldn't really identify them because the rooftop's getting a bit too crowded and much darker.

“Fock, yeah! Here comes The Boss!” a half-naked Cook hooted. Freddie, Grunwald and Sean helped Karen with the bags.

“What the—? You boys are sipping on poof juice?” Karen snarled jokingly. “What a fucking embarrassment! Here,” she tossed a bottle of Guinness to Cook, “be a fucking man!” Then she cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled, “Faisons la fête!” 

The roof deck boomed with cheering and hooting.

“Jaysus, Karen! Merci. Nothin' beats Irish beer, seriously,” Cook said proudly, and then he opened the bottle and chugged on it. “Ye know ye've always been my favourite girl in the world, babes!”

“Oh shush you, James Cook.” Karen rolled her eyes at him and then began scanning the place. When she spotted me, her eyes lit up and she immediately paced to my direction. I instantly froze in place. Uh-oh. I vowed to myself that I would try to act as casual as possible and not make things awkward between us. Karen was a good friend and I didn't want anything to spoil our relationship this fucking early. I swallowed audibly.

“Hey there, Baby Fitch,” the French girl greeted in a seductively deep tone.

I shot her a what the fuck look. Seriously, was she not dropping her juvenile act? Was she really trying to flirt with me or just taking the piss? This was not the way I had wanted to come out.

“Pourquoi?” She smirked. “You're the youngest one here, Emily. So that makes you our Baby Fitch.” She gave my cheek a gentle pinch.

No fucking way. But if it isn't utter bollocks that I was the youngest one in the dorm, how much more pathetic could I still be? I didn't want anyone to treat me like a kid around here . . . especially not Naomi. I just stayed hushed.

“So,” Karen broke the odd silence, her voice a little hoarser, “are you one of us now?” Chuckling, she parked herself next to me on the mat, then eyed the damage she had done on my neck. I only gave her a lopsided smile and a shrug.

Letting out a regretful sigh, she said in a serious tone, “Sorry, Baby Fitch. I was clearly out of my fucking mind last night.”

“Sweetie,” I snorted, “you are always out of your fucking mind.”

“Hé, tu veux mourir ou quoi?” She lifted her chin in a threatening way, but the way her lips twitched told that she was stifling laughter.

"And you sound even more batshit crazy in French," I deadpanned.

“Shush you.” She let out a sexy laugh. Then she eyed me more intently and added earnestly, “Look, I'm really sorry about getting so pissed. I swear I could not remember anything. I still feel like death right now if that makes you feel better.”

I offered her a pardoning smile. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

“Was I really a mess?”

“Let’s just say you were out of order.”

“Hm. I hope I did nothing too dramatic,” she said. Then she nudged me with her elbow. “So how good of a kisser am I, eh, Baby Fitch?” She wiggled her brows.

“You mean, biter?” I jokingly corrected. “You gnawed my skin off, Karen.”

“Oh shush you. It ain’t that bad.” She laughed. Then she leant toward me and lowered her voice, “But, uhm, Emily . . . ?”

I turned to her with lifted brows. She was staring down at my mouth. “Yea?”

“You taste so fucking good.” With that, she gave me a flirty wink, got to her feet, and walked over to Freddie's lot. You can always count on Karen McClair for a dramatic exit, I thought, shaking my head in amusement as I watched her join the boys in their crazy little card game.

Then I heard a familiar chuckle behind me. I couldn’t stop the goofy smile from taking over my face.

Finally.

I didn't have to turn my head around. I knew very well who owned that heavenly laugh. Out of thousands, I would be able to tell apart hers. I hear it in my dreams; I replay it in my head. The owner of the chuckle walked up to my line of sight, leant composedly against the rooftop railing, and, yes, she still was breathtakingly gorgeous. She had changed into a loose grey T-shirt, washed-out denim shorts, and her usual flip-flops. Her wavy blond hair was pulled up into a ponytail which bared her flawless face all the more. My heart was beating madly and I had to gulp yet again.

"Fucking Karen." Naomi let out a short sardonic chuckle again, staring at the bottle of vodka she's been fiddling with for a while.

I had to make sure she was talking to me. Then her gaze met mine. Those eyes that were an amazing blue were staring right at me.

"Yea, always knows how to spice things up, that girl," I responded tentatively. She's fucking talking to me! Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.

"Chucked a sickie on exam day. Un-fucking-believable." The blonde shook her head, marveling at the wickedness of the brunette, then took a swig of her vodka. "Fancy some?" She offered the bottle.

I grabbed it, took a gulp then motioned for her to sit down next to me. "You want to join me?"

"Yea, why not." Naomi willingly did so. And, fuck me, here come the butterflies doing cartwheels in my tummy for the umpteenth time. Oh, God. Oh, God. Breathe, Emily. Breathe.

I fought to keep a cool composure around her. "Uh-huh. But I heard she can ace it blindfolded so fuckem, yea?" I said, smirking. "She's the Boss, after all."

"The Boss," she echoed, "right." She snorted then rolled her eyes mockingly.

That snort and that rolling of eyes meant something else, I just knew. I looked at her, somewhat intrigued. "Okay. What are you trying to—?"

She cut me off with a sharp, disgusted puff of breath. "It's just that, Jesus, I can't believe I'm fucking surrounded by figjams."

I threw her a what the fuck expression. "Um. Sorry, not from Oz," I reminded her.

"Right," she muttered. Then with a wry smile she turned to me. "Figjam. Meaning 'Fuck I'm good; just ask me'. Figjam. Don’t ask where I got it."

I only stared at her as if she was speaking in Tongues. Okay. Still not getting the whole idea . . .

Naomi must have noticed that my eyebrows were still scrunched up so she expanded, "Um. People who think highly of themselves. Exhibit A: Karen. Exhibit B: You."

My eyes instantly widened in disagreement, then crossing my arms, I shot back, "Me? Miss ‘Hunny, you ain't that special,’ I'll have you know that I ain't no figjam!" I playfully nudged her arm with my elbow.

"Ah, yea? Miss 'Clearly, you've done a li'l research yourself.’" A smirk was forming on her lips as she raised an eyebrow at me, and then returned the nudge.

"But you have, haven't you?" I teased.

"Rack off," Naomi jokingly spat. Her face became kind of distorted as she was trying to hold back laughter.

"Rack off?" I repeated the expression as if it sounded like hemorrhoid or regurgitate or pregnant or one of the ugliest words in the English dictionary, and made a snorting noise. Naomi was smiling to herself.

I couldn't control it anymore so I let out a husky peal of laughter, and then she joined in a second after. "Rack off!" I mocked in an Aussie accent and cracked up even more.

Suddenly, Naomi became oddly silent as she toyed with the bottle again. Then she snapped her head sideways to my direction and narrowed her eyes at me.

"So . . ." the blonde began with an amused smirk. "You taste ‘so fucking good,’ huh?"

"Why?" I cocked a teasing eye at her. "You want a taste test?"

I could see her face turning scarlet as she gave my shoulder a light shove. “Get outta here, you little pom.”

I stared at her for a moment, holding my breath, and she stared right back. There was a giggle working its way up my throat, and suddenly I couldn't take it anymore. I burst out laughing at the exact same moment that Naomi lost it too. 

Naomi shook her head as her laughter subsided. "Are we going to stop sounding like idiots now?" she asked. All traces of a smirk had disappeared, and there was something new behind her gaze. Something closely resembling . . . attraction?

"I know I am, but I'm not sure if you're capable," I said, snatching the bottle from her, and she grinned. I couldn't help gazing at her lips. Don't look at her, I commanded myself. Why do her lips have to be facing mine?

I looked down and silently sipped from the vodka bottle, blushing as red as tomatoes, hoping that Naomi wouldn’t see how I was melting inside.

"Emily?"

I glanced up. Fuck! Why couldn't I control my knee-jerk reactions? Once I was looking into her hypnotic, blue eyes, I couldn't seem to get myself to look away.

"I have to say," she said in that deep, chill-inducing voice. "You have really pretty eyes."

I froze, letting her words sink in. You have really pretty eyes. Well that sounded like a line, hadn't it? She was smiling kind of flirtatiously. And her eyes seemed to be sparkling a tad too much. But that might have been a reflection of all the lights on the rooftop. Or that might have just been the alcohol's doing.

When I didn't answer, she drew back slightly. "Aren't you going to say something back?" she said with feigned indignation. "We're girls, c’mon. We're supposed to give compliments to each other."

I arched one eyebrow and sized her up quickly. "Hm. I don't see anything worth complimenting. Sorry."

"Ah, yea?" she said with another pulse-altering grin and a lift of her eyebrow. "Not one thing?"

"Okay. Well, there’s a couple of little things."

"And those are?"

"Well, the first one is you have an incredible . . . really incredible way of insulting people. I think that's a real talent."

Naomi gave me a sarcastic smile. "Very funny. What's the other one?"

"You have a rare gift of making someone hate you so quickly. Usually you have to know a person better first."

For a moment, she was only staring at me, her mouth open as if she couldn't find a snappy comeback. As if she were totally, completely thrown. "Rack off," she finally blurted.

I can only flash her a wide, teasing grin.

Naomi suddenly held her hand up and called to the French girl close by, "Karen, do we have a Dwarf Tossing competition here in the dorm? 'Cos I highly recommend this midget right here. And I feel like throwing somebody." Karen and the lads around her laughed at this and I blushed from embarrassment.

When Naomi turned back to me, I gave her a severe look. "That wasn't funny."

Naomi nodded, smiling mischievously. "Yes, it was. It was so fucking funny."

I focused on controlling my temper. Sometimes I just want to get angry at this gorgeous girl, but I just couldn’t. As far as I’m concerned, Naomi Campbell can literally just run away with anything. 

"You, Miss Campbell, are just plain rude," I blurted out anyway.

"Again, Miss Fitch, I am not rude," she said with defiance. "You’re just sensitive."

"Since we've met I've tried to be nice, but every time I see you, you seem angry at me. I just want to know why."

"Why?" Naomi parroted.

"Yea," I said, my voice steady. "Why."

"Because," she said, sounding like a fifth-grader.

I studied her face closely. "Because why?"

"It's none of your business."

I let her answer settle into the silence.

"Okay. Whatever," I finally said, sighing my frustration out.

Naomi handed the vodka to me again. "Just don't ask too many questions and we'll be all right." She gave me a wink which I found so damn cute.

We took turns in sipping at the bottle in companionable silence until our eyes met and held. I realised I was holding my breath as a new surge of arousal shot from my stomach to my groin. Oh God, I can't be this close to her. Don't look at her mouth. Or her neck. 

Naomi smiled benignly, her azure blue eyes crinkling. Long fingers curled gently around my leg. She slid her hand over and above my calf, poking at a bulge of muscle.

"Wow, I'm impressed." She poked again. "You have semi-athletic legs. Do you play any sport?"

My heart raced and I hoped fervently that the blonde wouldn't see the pulse beating in my throat. This is fucking nuts. How can she not see what's happening to me? Must be the light up here.

I was becoming desperate. Slowly and nonchalantly, I hoped, I pulled away from her and sat back against the low wall behind us.

"Yea, I play football," I managed to say calmly. "Not the best player out there, though. I was in a club back in Bristol Uni and used to play once or twice a week." 

She drew back, surprised. "Is that right?"

"Yep. Just for fun, you know."

She snorted disbelievingly. "No fucking way."

"Why not?"

"Um. Because of the many times I’ve seen you pathetically lose your balance, Miss Twinkletoes? There’s no way in hell you can last standing on a football field longer than ten seconds."

"You’re being rude again."

I willed my voice to remain steady, but now I found it impossible to relax. The low wall wasn't very comfortable, anyway. That, combined with sexual tension and hours of socialising and exploring around Hamada University, had made my neck and shoulders ache. I leant forward again, grimacing, and moved my neck from side to side, then rolled my shoulders.

"Are you okay?" Naomi asked, worry replaced mockery in her eyes and voice.

"I guess I overdid the mingling and wandering today. I'm a bit sore."

"Here," the blonde said, handing me the vodka bottle again. "Just drink the pain away. You'll be too numb to feel anything." And then she . . . smiled at me again. Not one of those measly little "I'm only being polite" kind of smile, but a real honest-to-God, knock-you-in-the-gut smile. It spread across her face, illuminating her features with a radiant glow. It electrified her azure blue eyes.

After a big gulp of vodka, I blurted, "That's it? I thought you were going to offer a massage or something."

Naomi gave a roll of her eyes. "Oh, don't be such a baby." Then she took the bottle from me, lifted it to her pretty mouth, and took a long swig. One corner of her mouth turned up.

I watched her, fascinated and frustrated at the same time. Christ, she was really gorgeous and really surrounded by bloody well-built walls. This girl could certainly mess with my head and leave me hanging, but I'd be willing to take all the aspirins it would take. 

I felt a mirroring grin on my own face. I couldn't quite believe what had just happened, though. I was able to talk to Naomi Campbell normally, self-assuredly, and unreservedly. I kind of liked what the blond beauty was doing to me. Perhaps, that was the Campbell Force yet again. And Naomi should really stop being so fucking adorable because truth be told, I think I had fallen in love with the Aussie blonde all over again.

I eyed Naomi with interest. "Tell me honestly, Naomi Campbell, are you enjoying life here in the dorm?"

"It has its good points."

"I hear the neighbours are terrific."

"I've only met one," she said.

"And?"

"She has a tendency to ask loaded questions."

I grinned, and tried to control myself from blushing furiously. I loved the Aussie’s sense of play.

"But to answer your question," she went on, "yep, I do like it here. I like the fact that it takes only a few seconds to get anywhere. Like, if I wanted to do my laundry, I'd just go a couple of floors down. If I needed booze, I'd just knock on Room 211. There's a handful of entertaining things to do at the basement, too."

"Right. And you can always swing by mine if you’re on the warpath, right?"

She laughed. “Now that you’ve suggested that. Hmm . . .”

I noticed the tiny smile plastered on Naomi’s face. That same smile I’ve been seeing her wearing quite often lately.

“What’s that look on your face?” I finally asked.

Naomi answered in a cool tone, “What’s what?”

“That smile. What are you thinking?”

She looked at me, held my gaze. “It’s just funny. You do have balls to continue being around me, don’t you?”

“Why? What’s wrong with you?”

“Well, I don’t know, maybe because there’s a ton of bad press about me. And I’m a straight up bitch. And that I’m ‘incredibly bad-tempered’ and ‘rude,’” she said, making air quotes.

“I try not to judge people on hearsay and first impressions,” I said, realising even as I said it that I sounded a bit self-righteous. So I added, with a smile, “And I guess maybe I’ve always had a thing for strong personalities.”

Or bad girls, I admitted silently. For whatever reason, it was true. I’d always been so blessed with nastiness all my life, people who were from that slightly wicked, wrong kind of paradise.

Naomi gave me that sexy smirk of hers with squinted eyes. “Is that right?”

I nodded, still smiling. “Um-hmm.”

Naomi gazed at me from above her lashes for a while, smiling, then shook her head. "You are one of a kind, Emily Fitch. Always ready to believe the best in anyone." Then her smile disappeared, and a serious look took over her face. "But you shouldn't be so trusting. It's a stinking world full of jerks hanging about. People who will destroy you. People who will hurt you."

“I’m not scared of them,” I told her bluntly.

Naomi stared at me for a bit, with something like admiration. Then she shook her head again, smiling. “One of a kind, indeed,” I heard her mutter before taking a swig off the bottle.

Wow. This girl was truly bipolar. From Arctic Ice Queen to Miss Congeniality. What happened to that coldhearted, aloof girl? I wondered. And who was this gentle, open woman who'd taken her place?

My mystified stare must have made Naomi uneasy, because suddenly she declared, "I need to be going."

I sat up straight, surprised and a little upset. "How come?"

"I have things to do."

That was what she said. What her expression telegraphed was None of your damn business.

I groped for something else to talk about so she wouldn't bolt. "Wait. I heard you’re from the IR department as well and really well versed with politics and international relations, in general."

"Uh-huh. And so?"

"I’ve to start drafting an academic paper for my East Asian Studies course. It’s about the prospects for formalized trilateral cooperation of Japan-Korea-China. And I don’t know how and where to start."

"I’m sorry, but why the hell are you torturing yourself, Emily?"

"Torturing?"

"You clearly aren’t motivated and completely clueless about writing on this topic. Or not into your chosen track at all. Why bother?"

Well, I had asked for her opinion, hadn’t I? Problem was, it wasn’t the sort of opinion I was expecting. Yet in some weird way, her reckless, blunt answer actually made sense.

"What’s your major, Em? And what do you want to be, seriously?"

Well, I'd made some headway. Naomi was still seated, and she had asked me a couple of questions about myself, and she finally called me by a nickname.

"Well, I'm taking up Social Policy and Politics. So I might end up in the diplomatic service or something."

"Diplomatic service?"

"And work at an embassy, I guess."

"Hmm."

"What?"

"Just an observation."

"What?" I probed.

"I can't see you confined to a desk all day working on whatever shit. I mean, you might be boring and tightly contained, but I don’t know . . . I think there’s a reckless side of you . . ."

In a way, I had to agree. "Very insightful. My future job could be boring as hell, yes. Too boring for me."

"Then why don't you do something else?"

"I'm in the process of looking. I guess you could say I just haven't found my niche yet."

"You don't know what you want to be when you grow up?"

"Well, I don't. But my mother does."

She laughed. "That's what I guessed."

"I actually drew a five-year plan before. Totally forgot about it. But now that you've mentioned it, I might try looking into it again and maybe add a few more things or make some alterations."

"Just do what makes you happy, and you'll be fine."

"Well, I’m feeling pretty happy right now. I'm enjoying spending time with you."

Suddenly Naomi got to her feet and ran her hand over the back of her short denim shorts. "Gotta bounce,” she declared. “See you at uni tomorrow." She hurriedly made for the exit. I nearly mowed down a group of four in rush to follow her down into the building. By the time I reached our floor, Naomi was jamming her key into her door knob.

"Hey, slow down, Naomi. What'd I say?"

"Nothing."

"Then why are you ditching us this early?"

"I need to do stuff, that's all."

"Naomi, Olympic sprinters don't move that fast. What's wrong?"

Naomi opened the door to her room then finally looked at me. "You are very charming, Emily. But I've got things to do. G'night."

Weird. Really weird. I watched the door slam shut in front of me. But however long it would take, Naomi Campbell was definitely a puzzle I wanted to solve.

Friday. First day of school. Last day of the week.

My head was heavily resting against the elevator's wall whilst I struggled to regain equilibrium. I still have a cunt of a headache from all that vodka I consumed last night. I only prayed my classes wouldn't be that bloody for I wasn't sure I would be able to properly conjugate Japanese verbs with my current shitty state. I was mindlessly cracking my knuckles, and wondered why I was mindlessly cracking my knuckles.

Also in the lift with me were Freddie, Sean, and Halo. I looked around and noticed that all three of my mates were acting rather oddly: Freddie was running his hands through his hair, clearly feeling slightly tense; Sean was whistling an Iron Maiden song but it looked like he was thinking about something; and Halo was fixing her clothes gawkily.

Today, we are about to find out the placement results. Perhaps, that was what had been bothering all of us. I set free a muffled breath and let my thoughts drift back to the events of last night.

Last night.

I wasn't sure how I felt after having a one-on-one with Naomi Campbell, but I found myself smiling. For the first time I had actually done it. I told Naomi exactly what was going through my mind. It had taken a lot of courage and a bit of alcohol to do that, I told myself. I normally wasn't very good at speaking my mind. Not to Danny, Katie's douchebag of a boyfriend, about the fact that I had already heard much better insults than his pea-sized brain could possibly conjure up. Not to Katie about the way I felt when she tried to steal all my gold. Not even to my mum, who always seemed to have opinions on how I could improve myself.

I really did enjoy spending time with Naomi, even though she ditched us in the end. I loved that we were able to talk and laugh about random things. I loved how she answered my questions and asked me a few questions herself. I loved how she made sense. And I loved that she told me that I was ‘very charming.’

I drew in a lungful of air, crumpling the hem of my skirt as I mentally crossed my fingers and summoned all the gods. Please, please, please . . . Put us in the same class. Please.

The elevator door opened, and we stepped out of it with all four us releasing audible breaths simultaneously. We then walked into a room where there stood a panel board revealing all the answers to the questions that had been troubling us. I screwed my eyes shut, took a deep breath, opened my eyes again and then started scanning . . .

Campbell, Naomi      ... Class 2 

Chan, Xiao-Ling      ... Class 1B   

Cheng, Da-Xia        ... Class 1B 

Cook, James          ... Class 2 

De Rossi, Flaviana   ... Class 3 

Evdikimov, Bogdan    ... Class 4 

Fitch, Emily         ... Class 2

FUCKING BOLLOCKING HELL! Good God Almighty! I staggered whilst aiming for the door. I stepped outside, searched for a soundless corner and there I released a breath I didn't realise I was holding in. Shitting hell! Naomi and I are in the same class! I rejoiced inwardly. Thank you, thank you, thank yooooou!

Just as expected, Karen Margaux McClair had advanced to Class 1A where creatures that were abnormally proficient in Japanese mingle. Good luck with all the newspaper reading, Karen. Hah! Frédéric André McClair and Thomas Tomone were in 1B. Freddie and Thomas are fucking freaks! Cook, Effy, and Halo are in my class as well. Good Lord! What an impending disaster. Sean ended up in Class 3 with this giant Mandy whilst Panda, Grunwald and JJ belong to Class 4. Schveet.

“So? You seem happy?” An arm slung over my shoulder.

It was Cool New Friend Halo, grinning widely, her brown eyes flashing with excitement.

I grinned back. “Incredibly. I’m so fucking excited, Halo!”

Halo held her other hand up in front of me for a high ten. I eagerly slapped my hand against Halo’s, then reeled her in for a big hug. “I know! We’re classmates, Emily!” she said jubilantly. “Woot woot!”

“I knooow!” I couldn’t help it. Suddenly we were both giggling and squealing like little girls.

“Hey, ladies.” Thomas appeared, flashing his bright pearly whites at us. “We still have about an hour before our first period classes. Panda and I are thinking of getting stuff from the bookstore very quick. You two joining?”

“Sure! Count us in,” Halo answered for both of us.

As we started down the hallway, Halo turned to me with a wicked grin on her face. “Let’s make it an interesting semester, shall we, Emily Fitch?”

I nodded, smiling back. “You bet.”

I licked my lips. I just knew it. And good Lord my pen was shaking, which was pissing me off. I tried my hardest to steady my hand as Naomi shut the door behind her and crossed the room. My brows furrowed when I heard the chair beside me scraping against the floor.

To my utter surprise and suppressed exhilaration, Naomi took a seat in the chair next to me, the epitome of everything naturally cool. I couldn’t help but study the fluidity of her movements.

When she caught me watching her, Naomi raised her brows provocatively. “Yes, Emily?”

“I . . .” I sort of trailed off and hoped that somehow a massive carpet would cascade from the sky so I could sweep my uselessness under it. Shit, shit, shit. Quit being a creep, Fitch. “. . . Nothing.”

Quickly I looked away and lowered my head, awkwardly pulling another notepad from my bag. I jotted unnecessary notes and looked around me in order to look busy. The classroom was good sized and well appointed, I observed. Our combo desks were sleek and made out of the same oak-coloured hard plastic as the nearby teacher's desk. The navy blue carpeting was thick, deep, and expensive. The floor-to-ceiling windows on both walls had elegant fabric vertical blinds. Wide projector screens and whiteboards were set up at the front of the room.

Our first class, a Japanese Comprehensive Grammar one, is scheduled from 10AM until 11:30AM. And at the moment, I’m internally jumping like I have just scored a golden goal, suppressing a huge victorious grin and a squeal because the lovely Naomi Campbell is sitting in the chair on my right. I was flanked by her and Halo, who seemed to be as perky as ever. The elation was just too much for me; I thought I was going to develop an enlarged heart artery.

“Ja, minna, hajimemashouka (Let’s start, shall we)?” the professor announced in a loud, serious voice. Our instructor, Sugiyama Sensei, was a plump, grim-faced Japanese bloke with a moustache like Julius Pringles. This 'terror teacher' look is so fucking cliché, I thought. I was sure I was going to end up hating him. And Effy, who was seated behind me and seemed bored to death, most likely shared the same sentiment with me.

We started the class with the customary self-introduction or jikoshoukai wherein Cook earned a glare from the cranky professor. Strike 1! We spent the rest of the period taking an assessment test to check what we already know and bollocks like that. We all groaned in unison—with me letting out one of the loudest ones. I mean, how can I ogle at Naomi now when these fucking sheets of paper are wrestling for my attention like bloody Kim Kardashian? 

Keep calm and look at the bright side, Emily. I smiled, realising the more Naomi was focused on something else, the more I could stare at her.

Naomi herself was a little harder to study without being obvious, but I found that if I tilt my head down like I was answering the test paper, I can look up at her through my eyelashes without giving myself away. I hope. Her hair was loose today, a fact that made my heart speed up a bit. It was light and naturally wavy, the kind every woman wishes she had.

After a while the bell rang, pulling me out of my Naomi Campbell-themed wonderland. The class roared and so did my tummy which was already grumbling.

“Amusing first class, isn’t it?” Halo commented as we plunked our test papers on the teacher’s desk.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I replied, snorting a chuckle.

“At least for you,” she said, smirking. “I mean, you seemed distracted, Emily.”

“Distracted?”

“Yep. Pretty much.” She then wiggled her brows then put on a fake British accent which I thought sounded hilarious. “Fancy someone in class, Miss Fitch?”

I turned around, trying to hide my blushing face, and moved toward the door. “Quit being silly, Halo.”

Halo caught up to me in the doorway, giggling teasingly. “Oh come on. It’s obvious. You looked extremely pleased.”

“Of course,” I told her. “We’ve got a pretty neat classroom. We’ve got crazy funny classmates. I love my seat. Primarily ‘cos you’re next to me. What more can I ask for, right?”

Halo gave me a teasing look. “Really. Is it really mainly because of me?”

Jeez. Halo Lopez could be very damn cool but she could be very damn nosey as well.

“It’s break time and I’m famished, Halo,” I muttered, hurrying down the hallway with a snickering Halo trailing after me. “So give me a break and let’s just go get lunch, yea?”

"Away with the pixies, eh?" I was jarred out of my reverie by an exceptionally radiant Naomi who was standing before me, looking so heart-stoppingly sexy and carrying a tray with pudding and a plate of vegetable salad on it.

Her cascading hair seemed to be reflecting the sunlight, and her vibrant blue eyes sparkled like a lake under the bright sun. What's more, she looked so divine in her flowing white off-shoulder top, almost-hidden black denim shorts, and black gladiator sandals. And I haven't really noticed it back in class but her picture perfect legs appeared to go on forever; I knew I had to wipe the corners of my mouth just to make sure it didn't have some sort of liquid visible on it. Here's a fact: Naomi should start wearing more fabric to school or she'll give all the Japanese boys around here an early heart-attack.

"I was just . . . uh—" I stammered, then cleared my throat, "I was just enjoying the view." Not her legs, silly. I meant the fucking sky and - erm - the trees and . . . Oh, fuck it.

I did my best to keep my gaze on her face, not on her legs. Or her collarbone. Or any of her other drop-dead gorgeous body parts.

"You know, you should lessen the daydreamin' and start yabberin'," she said with an amused smirk. Oh, my. Please tell me she didn't notice me perving on her. 

"And you're one to talk," I managed to scoff, and stifled a laugh.

Naomi let out an abbreviated laugh, and then she joined me—setting her tray down on the table then taking a seat opposite me on the al fresco cafeteria bench. She gave me one of those rare powerhouse smiles.

"So," the Aussie began lightly, "our Grammar teacher's a bit of a miserable old git, isn't he?" She forked a leaf of lettuce on her plate then gracefully put it in her mouth. I couldn't resist looking at her lips—those soft, rosy ones that I hope I would be able to feel on mine eventually.

"Tell me about it. I felt like I was back in an all-girls boarding school," I muttered then puffed an irritated breath. "I reckon he's just not getting any, you know." I half-shrugged whilst unwrapping an onigiri in feigned innocence, trying to suppress a smile. "I mean, given that he's a widower and just . . . unlikeable."

Her eyes instantly snapped up to meet mine, widened and with a glint of amusement in them, and then she gasped, "Emily Fitch, you dirty little redhead!"

I grinned at her mischievously, nodding my head repeatedly. "I know."

Then after a few soundless seconds of eating our lunch, the blonde looked at me again. "So you went to an all-girls boarding school?" she asked, to my genuine surprise.

"Yep. Almost all my growing years," I answered with all the casualness I could muster.

"We have those back in Melbourne," she said, "and the girls do have quite . . . the reputation."

I lifted a quizzical brow. "Reputation?"

She smirked. "Let's just say I've heard loads of stories of what exactly goes on inside those four walls they would generally call dorm rooms. I could give you a debaucherous list of things, you know."

"Oh, that," I said, sweat popping out of my forehead. "Yea, things could get a little crazy for," I cleared my throat, "some."

"Some?" Naomi arched a teasing brow. "Does this 'some' include a dirty little redhead by the name of Emily Fitch?"

I felt like my mouth had gone bone-dry. "Well, I - uh—" I stammered. "Let's just say I had learned some of that dirtiness from school." I punctuated my words with a meaningful wink.

My uncharacteristic blunt response surprised the blonde a little. "Huh."

For a while we sat there looking at each other with little smirks on our faces—hers was sexy bizarre; mine was just bizarre. Then my gaze glided down to her lips once more. I traced the contours of her mouth with my eyes. Her lips looked so soft, smooth and warm, and when her tongue came out to moisten them, I felt my insides shudder. The blonde must have noticed me staring as her smirk intensified with another implication. I snapped out of it and saw her raising curious eyebrows.

Turning into a complete fucking weirdo with a face as red as overripe tomatoes, I lowered my head and very awkwardly took my chopsticks and struggled to eat my already-cold miso ramen and gyoza. I heard Naomi let out a soft titter and I stiffened all the more. Fuck. She must think I'm a right creep already.

A few very tense seconds later—and thank God—we were joined by the rest of the gang, with Cook whining nonstop about how many times he had to drop by the toilet room because of Halo’s deviled eggs from the party yesterday and blabbing about these hot Japanese girls he was planning to shag. We just let him shoot his mouth off because, yea, he is Cook. What a tosspot.

Thomas suddenly called, “Hey, Emily, Naomi. Effy and I are going to do some sightjogging tomorrow morning. You two up for it? I asked these guys already and they’re not interested.”

“I’ll pass. I hate jogging,” Naomi answered right away.

“What about you, Emily?” Thomas turned to me. “It’s just going to be quick and a lot of fun, I promise. Plus, this is the best exercise you can do in preparation for Mt. Yura. There’s nothing like a little jog to get your body in shape.”

“Sure,” I answered right away. “Sounds . . . good for me.”

“You're full of crap, Thomas,” Effy spoke up, surprising all of us. “Last time he invited me to go ‘sightjogging,’ we reached the peak of some fucking hill. I got fucking punk’d. Not good for you at all, Emily. Not good for anyone at all.”

Everyone laughed at this.

Thomas grinned. "But you guys are down for the big hike this Sunday, right? I've already requested for permits and made a list of hiking partners. Senior partners will be the ones to sort of lead the junior ones. I've also grouped us into three teams: the lead, middle, and sweep teams. How did I get it sorted? Just trust my judgment, guys."

The table boomed with cheering and hooting.

“Please tell me Emily's my partner!” Sean piped up excitedly.

“Nope. Sorry, bro,” Thomas answered, and Sean looked disappointed for real. “Emily's listed under senior partner like you. You're with Halo. And Emily's with Naomi."

"Oh, good God. Kill me now," Halo groaned. “Why are you partnering me with a clown?”

Sean looked offended. “I’m a clown? Well I’m not the one with the crazy looking wig!”

“This is not a wig, you idiot,” Halo snapped. “They’re extensions. And for your information, they’re made of real human hair!” Then they started bickering about petty stuff and it went on and on.

Everyone watched in amusement as the two squabbled on with each other like a cat and a dog. Or Hello Kitty versus G.I. Joe as Freddie chose to put it.

But despite the animated laughter and the commotion around our table, none could drown out my pounding heart as I sneaked a look at the drop-dead gorgeous Naomi Campbell who was, to my surprise, staring back at me with a certain twinkle in her blue eyes. 

Oh, dear.

“Got the books already?” Naomi Campbell slipped into the chair beside me again, surprising me. “Someone obviously came prepared.”

“Yep. Made a quick trip to the bookstore during our free time.” I tried to keep calm, despite the dozens of butterflies doing crazy cartwheels in my tummy.

“What a dutiful student.”

“Well, who knows what lies ahead? We might come across another madman.”

“Konnichiwa, minna-san (Good day, everyone).” A sweet voice greeted us. A tall, pretty woman with beautiful shoulder-length black hair, probably in her early 30’s, made her way toward the teacher’s desk. She was wearing a light pink tie front blouse and black pencil skirt, looking very classy and highly likeable.

“Or not.” Naomi grinned, looking just as pleased as the rest of us. This was a glorious breath of fresh air after dealing with Professor Pringles earlier.

Luckily, our Listening/Speaking instructor, Nishikawa Sensei, proved to be a charming lady whose sweetness was too much for her own good. She gave a brief introduction regarding the course—basically we will just be listening to some tapes, answering our workbooks, and trying a bit of conversation—of course, everything in Japanese. We had to go through the self-introduction again, and then the teacher asked everyone in the class to pair up for an activity.

“Mind if we’re partners?” Naomi asked, surprising me yet again.

Smirking, I tried to sound as calm as I could as I glanced sideways at her. “Well, it depends. Are you gonna keep on torturing me?”

Naomi gazed at me through squinted eyes, pursing her lips. “Hm. It depends. Are you gonna keep on embarrassing yourself?”

Then suddenly the blonde turned her chair towards me. As she pulled her chair closer and our knees bumped, I felt my heart hammering in my chest and got afraid I might leap clear out of my skin. I couldn’t believe how nervous Naomi was making me and I was a little irritated at myself. I'm nineteen, for crying out loud.

Each pair was assigned a sample sketch from the textbook—Naomi and I got a dialogue of a guy asking a girl out on a date—make it our own and act it out in front of the whole class.

My hands were trembling and I couldn’t seem to get them under control. I gripped my pen so hard I was afraid my fingers might cramp up. Clearing my throat again, I managed to find my voice and tried to keep the tone casual.

“Alright. So,” I began, trying not to feel uncomfortable under the blonde’s gaze, “how do you want the scene to start?” Much to my dismay, I found myself unable to pull my eyes from her full bottom lip as she bit down into it. The gloss on it looked very fresh and I felt myself salivate as I thought about licking it off. Abruptly I lowered my head again and tried to concentrate on the textbook.

Naomi leant forward a little more, keeping her eyes on me. “Why don’t you show me what you’ve got first then I’ll take it from there?” At this, my eyes did jerk up to hers. I practically swallowed my tongue whilst managing to squeak out an “Okay.” I felt like I was the prey and she was the sleek, black cat that was about to pounce on me. Still trying to disguise the uncharacteristic shaking of my hand, I grasped the pen with the other hand as well, gripping both ends, totally impairing my ability to write anything at all. Making a feeble attempt to cover, I pretended I was just playing with it, clicking the plunger and spinning it between my fingers. Of course, only three seconds went by before the pen flew out of my grip and skittered across Effy’s desk which was nearby, stopping at the edge near the brunette’s textbook. I closed my eyes, unable to believe I could actually be this much of an idiot.

“Shit, sorry,” I muttered, looking away from the perceptive glimmer in Naomi’s eyes and tucking a stray lock of hair back behind my ear. Deciding to use this moment to try and pull my shit together, I took my time standing, stepped toward Effy’s desk, and reached across for my pen. Effy and her conversation partner Stefan both stared up at me, smirking. I could hear Halo’s snickers from one corner.

“Sorry,” I muttered to them, then quickly spun on my heel to return to my desk.

“Let’s get down to business,” Naomi commanded as soon as I sat back down in my chair. “I’m the girl. You’re the guy. You’re gonna ask me out. But I’m not easy. So impress me, Fitch."

“Erm, okay.” So she wasn’t easy. Piece of piss. Right.

We were given fifteen minutes to work on the script and the blonde and I had to struggle a bit with it because sparks from both of us—or at least how I saw it—were shooting out frenziedly to all directions. With each slight skin-to-skin contact, I was sent stuttering and squirming in my seat. It was grueling—trying to control yourself from jumping someone as crazy beautiful as Naomi Campbell, you know.

I glanced sideways at the pair next to us—Effy and Stefan—and I spotted the brunette looking at me with that same smirk. It was like she knew something was going on. She simply knows. I just realized then that The Great Elizabeth Stonem is still a mystery to me. Sure, there were a few delightful exchanges between me and Effy, but it was so obvious to everyone that she intends to remain a closed book. I made a mental note to myself that I should find time to get to know her because she fascinates me the way monkeys fascinate Panda. Perhaps tomorrow I might just get the chance since she’ll be joining me and Thomas for a jog around the neighbourhood. I snapped out of my thoughts when I noticed Naomi looking at me like I was some sort of an extraterrestrial.

After many bloody arguments and script modifications—with Naomi ending up insulting me and winning every time—we were ready to bring it. Naomi and I managed to perform our piece with an ample amount of comedy. Our classmates loved the whole banter between the two of us—plus the fact that I apparently have a ludicrous ‘weird-sounding’ British intonation on my Japanese. Needless to say, our little show went quite well and we got a “Sugoi (Brilliant)! Yoku dekimashita (Well done)!” from Nishikawa Sensei. She even said that our acting seemed very natural and it was like they were watching an actual couple.

After that class activity, I felt like I had gotten to know the Aussie blonde better. Now I am aware that (1) she is certainly a vegetarian; (2) she loves Ferris wheels—which I fucking hate, by the way—and brutal Japanese TV game shows; and (3) her favourite colour is—drum roll, please—red.

Yes. Red, ladies and gentlemen. Red.

“So you like red?” I asked the blonde when we returned to our desks.

“Yep,” Naomi answered, and she glanced at me cautiously. “Why?”

“Well, I intend to make you love the colour a little bit more.” I grinned jokingly, playfully flicking my hair.

She snorted a laugh. “I’m not so sure about that.”

The bell rang and we all got up from our chairs. “Why not? We make a brilliant pair, don’t we?” I argued, as I fixed things in my bag.

“I don’t know. Do we?” Naomi raised a brow.

“Seems like it. And c’mon, everyone can see it,” I joked. “We have natural palpable chemistry.”

Naomi rolled her eyes, although it was obvious she was trying hard not to laugh. “Sure, sure, whatever you say.” She slung her canvas bag over her shoulder. “So anyway, how do you plan to go about the assignment for Monday?”

“Well, we’re not gonna have enough time on Sunday since we’re having the big hike up Mt. Yura, yea? So perhaps tomorrow at the dorm lounge after my sightjogging thingy? After lunch, maybe?”

“Copy. Well then, see you out there,” Naomi said with a cool chin tilt of goodbye. She then turned around and started to head for the exit but stopped short, turned back to me and gave me a look, narrowing her eyes at me. “So you’re really gonna be my ‘senior hiking partner’ on Sunday, huh. And you’re supposed to ‘lead’ me?” she said, making sarcastic air quotes.

I grinned at her with pretend cockiness. “Yep. Aren’t you incredibly lucky? Don’t worry, I got your back and I have extraordinary survival instinct. With me, you’ll never get lost.”

Naomi laughed humourlessly. “You know what they say about hiking? If you’re new to it, don’t overestimate your abilities.” Then she spun on her heel and walked toward the door. “Bye, figjam.”

I let out a long, steadying breath, as I watched the Aussie beauty leave the room. Why was it every time I spent a few minutes with Naomi, I felt as though I’d run a marathon? Exhausted and exhilarated at the same time.

I adjusted the waistband of my shorts and continued up the craggy hill as Daft Punk music played through my iPod. What started out as a gentle, grassy slope had become steeper and more treacherous in the last half mile. And judging from the jutting boulders of the skyline up ahead, it was only going to get worse.

Still, I had to admit it was beautiful. Since we’d first started the hike—or “sightjog” as Thomas would call it—the sky over Kyoto that Saturday morning had gone from a greyish lavender to a soft pink and now a deep, vibrant blue.

“How are you doing back here?” Thomas Tomone’s hulking frame stood in front of me, blocking out the sunlight.

I pulled my earphones out. “Great. Just doing great,” I replied, trying to quicken my pace for effect.

Grinning, Thomas fell into step beside me. “See, Emily, jogging increases temperature in a variety of your muscles. It helps loosen up your muscles, bones, and joints. Heading out of the gates at full speed—without a proper warm-up—is a recipe for disaster. That’s why I make sure to jog before a big hike. To prevent any injuries. So what we’re doing is really a smart move before scaling Mt. Yura tomorrow.”

I nodded. “Yep. Definitely.”

“What’s inside the bag?” he asked, gazing down at the heavy rucksack I was carrying. “Looks real bulky.”

“A bottle of water, a pack of gummy bears, and some books I borrowed from the library.”

Thomas shot me a bewildered look. “Books? Who brings books to jogging trips?”

The loser me, obviously. “Just thought I could amuse myself during rest periods.”

Thomas laughed at my obviously idiotic response. “You know, in Runner’s Lingo, Emily, rest periods doesn’t mean breaks wherein you stop for a while, sit prettily on a bench and read a book. You do active rest—walking, for example—between intervals as you do the jogging or hard running. You don’t really stop since you have to make sure to keep the quality up in the workout and your heart rate high.”

I nodded again. “Okay. Got it.”

Goodness. Thomas was certainly a walking Wikipedia—or make that running Wikipedia, I mused.

“It’s nice out here. Isn’t it?” he asked, smiling at the sights around us. “Sightjogging is the best.”

“Yep. Sure is.” I was amazed at Thomas’s effortless speech. My own voice was coming out weak and breathless. I inhaled deeply and added, “Wish we could get school credit for this, yea? It definitely beats being locked in a stuffy classroom all day.”

“No doubt,” Thomas said. “That’s why I’ll be doing nothing but this for a whole year after graduation.”

I stopped in my tracks. “What? You mean you aren’t going to law school? But you just told me about your plan to be a hotshot lawyer and be the President of the United States and all that, isn’t it?” It shocked me to think Thomas might not be the academic type—especially since he was probably the most intelligent person I had ever met.

“Oh no. I’m definitely going,” Thomas said, laughing. “But I’m going to take a year off before I start and do some traveling. A friend of mine and I are going to hike and cycle through Europe, backpack across Thailand, go surfing in Hawaii. I figure it’ll be a really amazing experience. Plus then I won’t be so burnt out on law school.”

I nodded silently. My mind whirled as we resumed our easy pace up the hill. A year off? Doing nothing but traveling? That did sound pretty incredible.

“What about you, Effy?” I looked behind me over my shoulder and called to the Florida girl, who looked fit in her grey run vest and black shorts. “What are your plans after graduation?”

Effy popped her gum. “I don’t know,” she replied in her usual casual tone. “I mean, a lot can happen in a year. So I’m just, you know, letting the wind take me wherever. Just living outside the box.”

“Are you gonna enter law school, too, like Thomas?” I asked as a follow-up question.

Effy snorted. “No. No fucking chance in hell. I don’t even know right from wrong.”

“Precisely,” Thomas laughingly chipped in.

“Plus, I don’t really like talking,” Effy added.

“Precisely,” Thomas repeated.

Then Thomas glanced sideways at me. “Anyway, what’s going on between you and Sean, Emily?”

“Nothing,” I said unflappably. “We’ve reached an agreement that the flirting should stop.”

“But he seems very into you and a bit aggressive, no?” Thomas said.

“He’s quite resilient, yes,” I answered. “It’s cool, though. He’s a very nice guy.”

“Well, he has very nice taste, too,” Effy unexpectedly chimed in, all of a sudden appearing between me and Thomas. Effy’s comment made me blush and I was ready to give my reaction when she turned toward Thomas completely and they both picked up their jogging pace, leaving me behind.

“So tell me more about this year-off thing, Thom,” I heard the brunette ask Thomas as they jogged further away. “It’s something I might want to look into.”

I put the earphones back in. Just thinking there might be other options for my future made me feel better. Lighter, even—as if my rucksack had magically emptied itself.

“Emily, what could we possibly be doing in the Jurassic period?” Naomi’s brows were creased with puzzlement as she stared down at the paper on the lounge table.  

Embarrassment flushed my cheeks. “That’s not a dinosaur. That’s a giraffe.” I pointed down at the drawing. “See? There are spots.”

She picked up the paper and studied it more critically. “A giraffe? What are we doing with a fucking giraffe?”

“I thought it would be cool if we’re in Africa. Traveling together, you know. Or I don’t know. You could be feeding orphans and I could just be riding elephants shouting ‘Whoo!’. I’m not sure what you want to do. But the idea is that’s where the sample conversations could be applied.”

“You said the setting is in Africa . . .”

I nodded. “Yes. Africa.”

“If that is the case, can you please explain why are we speaking in Japanese?” She raised her brows mockingly.

Irritation crept at the back of my neck. “Oh, fuck it. Whatever. You write it.” I snatched the paper out of her hands and crumpled it into a ball right away. “I suppose you could do it better?” I arched my brows challengingly.

Naomi smirked smugly. “If we’re talking about drawing, then damn right I could,” she replied. “’Cos frankly, Ems, for a full-grown lady, you have the hand grip of a three-year old.”

I opened my mouth, but could not find a proper comeback so I closed it again. Damn. This girl sure knew how to be vicious.

“Now give me the pen,” the blonde said, stifling laughter.

I did so, then I crossed my arms on my chest, teed off. “You know what? This whole ‘Show me what you’ve got first then I’ll take it from there’ routine is seriously making my blood boil.”

Naomi reached for a paper bag on the table. “Here.” To my utter surprise, she took out a tub of Ben & Jerry’s Mint Chocolate Cookie ice cream from the bag. “I got you ice cream. Just chill, alright?”

Naomi handed me the ice cream tub and a tiny plastic spoon. I was speechless for a while. I was just so pleasantly surprised that Naomi took note of my ice cream fixation from our class activity yesterday. And she even got me my favourite flavor.

“Feel better now?” the blonde asked, smirking up at my flushed face.

“Uhm-hmm.” I dug into the tub right away. I was concentrating so hard on controlling my blush and keeping myself from smiling like a lovesick puppy.

“Good,” she said. “Feel better so I can guiltlessly make fun of you again in a little bit.”

There was a tearing sound over my head. “Watch it!” Naomi exclaimed, yanking me off course just as a heavy branch fell and bounced on the ground, inches from my feet.

I swallowed. Those were the first words Naomi had spoken to me that wasn’t strictly business. The first words that weren’t along the lines of “You’ll go this way, and I’ll go that way.”

Naomi put an arm around my waist and propelled me forward. “Let’s see if we can find some sort of trail.” She released her hold. “Do me a favour and try to stay alive, Emily. We don’t want anyone getting hurt. Not now that we’ve lost cell phone reception.”

I thought about what the blonde had just said. I thought it sweet that although she knew nothing about me and had barely any conversations with me, she still valued my life enough to not want to think of me getting hurt. 

“Thanks,” I said, raking the hair from my face, blinking away dirt and water. It was a gloomy Sunday morning and it didn’t help that rain poured heavily earlier and that we’d lost sight of the group and the trail. Naomi and I had to run for shelter and stay under an old wood shed for about fifteen minutes. How someone as smart as Thomas Tomone could possibly forget to check the weather forecast incredibly boggles the mind.

“God, I can’t believe we’re lost and that we’ve lost signal and that it had to fucking rain.” The blonde was looking at the worn out wooden signposts desperately. “All signs just lead to water, water and more water. We’re not fucking thirsty; we just want to get out of here, okay?”

I held up a pacifying hand. “Just try not to worry too much and stop whining. It won’t help us.”

Naomi angrily shoved her mobile phone back into her pocket. “I wish it were that easy when I’m stuck with you.”

I rolled my eyes but chose to let her off. Naomi was really getting on my nerves but, damn, she looked adorable.

I dug the heels of my lug-soled boots into the mud. Naomi and I were on an upward sloping path, and I could feel the muscles in my legs working hard.

“Jesus. I can’t believe Thomas assigned you to be my ‘senior hiking partner,’” Naomi said, making air quotes. “You can’t even walk straight.”

I pressed my lips together, trying to ignore her snarky comments, looked around and spotted a long, flat area several yards below us. I pointed. “That route looks pretty decent. Come on, let’s check it out.”

“Aren’t we supposed to head up?” Naomi asked, grimacing.

“I’m sure there’s another way here.” I hurried down the slope, angling my feet to keep my balance in the mud. “Agh. Shit.”

“Wow, you handle yourself very well,” the blonde commented, watching my clumsy descent. “Are you seriously a football player?”

“Shut up.” God, she was sarcastic. And I couldn’t help but smile inwardly.

“You make 10-month old babies look like gymnasts.”

“Shut up. Or I’m going to leave you.”

Naomi snorted. “Oh, who are you threatening?” She hopped up on a fallen log and crossed a big mud puddle, using her arms for balance. “I could survive without a partner,” she added.

“If you hadn’t made a stopover to tend your bloody phone, we wouldn’t be in this crappy situation.”

“I didn’t ask you to wait for me.”

“You know, the very least you could do is say ‘Thank you for your patience, Emily.’” I started climbing a rocky pile of boulders. Fuck’s sake. I just couldn’t deal with this girl sometimes.

As my chin bounced off damp roots and rocks, my feet slipped out behind me. My hands scrabbled wildly along the ground, trying to grab a bush or a branch. I clutched at a rock and held on for dear life. “Ahhhshiiit!” I squeaked. I felt someone grab me. It was Naomi. Again. Her strong arms hooked me under the shoulders and pulled me to my feet.

“Are you okay?” she asked, wrapping her arm around my waist to steady me.

“I’m okay. Thanks,” I said in a small voice. “Poor decision, obviously.”

The blonde released me then. “What could be worse than getting lost on a fucking mountain? Getting lost on a fucking mountain with a useless midget.” It was the fourth time she had saved me. She grimaced. “Fuck’s sake. This is unbelievably nightmarish.”

I flashed Naomi a smile, despite her black mood. “It’s good. It tells me we’re acting like a team.”

Naomi laughed mirthlessly. “More like acting like a babysitter and a fucking helpless toddler.”

I took a deep breath. Naomi was determined to put me at arm’s length. She wasn’t unfriendly or hostile. But she wasn’t warm either.

Naomi reached out and took my hand, helping me off the boulders. “I suppose you’re out of ideas.”

“I’m never out of ideas,” I corrected. “I was going to suggest that we circle back the opposite way. See, I don’t give up easily. Not when there’s something I really want—like reaching the top of this mountain and getting my yoga lessons.”

Naomi rolled her eyes and snorted. “Please. You hate yoga.”

“That’s right. But I might need some intensive relaxation after spending a bloody hour with you and your sarcasm,” I teased lightly.

“That’s if it will only take an hour to get to our destination. We are going in circles, thanks to you.” Naomi turned away, muttering a curse, and began walking.

I hurried after her. “Can you answer this seriously: Do you hate me?”

“I don’t hate you,” Naomi answered in a neutral tone. “I just . . .”

“What? You just loathe me? Detest me? Dislike me intensely? I’m trying to think of more synonyms but my mental thesaurus is all sapped.”

Naomi didn’t answer for a long moment. She kicked some mud off her boot and turned the collar of her windbreaker up. “I . . . ummm . . . I know I came pretty hard on you. I like you fine, Emily,” she said. “I’m just under a lot of stress right now. And getting lost on a mountain isn’t exactly helping.”

I reddened. “Okay. I’m sorry. I’m trying really hard. But I promise to get us to the summit. You just have to trust me and not get angry at me.”

“I’m not angry at you, okay? It’s just all these things hassling me. Sometimes I just need space to deal with them.”

“Take your space,” I answered. I moved on, pushing wet branches and vines out of my way.

I reached the edge of a murky swamp about ten feet wide. Too wide to jump. I knelt down and inspected the water, trying to gauge the depth. “I can’t tell if this is just a shallow spillway, or a pond.”

Naomi knelt down beside me, scowling. “Christ. I knew I should have just stayed back at the dorm and slept all day.”

“Stop whining, okay? I’m trying to think.”

“How could we possibly move on? Let’s just forget about all this and fucking go home, Emily. There’s signal down there. I’m sure we can just leave a text message to one of them.”

“Hang on.” I pulled off a boot. “I’ll wade in and see what I can find out.”

“Emily, don’t. It’s too dangerous.” Naomi grabbed my arm, and I felt heat jolt through my body. “It could be deep. Or the bottom could be full of suction holes.”

An explosion of familiar voices suddenly drowned out my pounding heart. I looked up across the swamp and spotted Panda’s golden braids bouncing across her back. Then I saw the line of hikers after her.

“Hey, guys!” I shouted, waving my arms in the air.

“Emily!” I heard Halo cry. In a flash, she appeared rushing from behind the trees and reached the other end of the swamp. “Oh, my God! We were looking all over for you two!”

“Thank God, we found you!” Karen emerged running next to Halo. “Christ. What happened to you two?”

“A lesbian quickie, obviously!” Cook piped up, laughing.

I cupped my hands around my mouth and shouted. “Is there another way, Thomas?” I asked, ignoring the Irish bloke’s comment.

Thomas frowned. “None, girls, sorry! We just have to find a way to cross this—!”

“Okay. Wait a sec.” I spotted a battered tree trunk wedged between two trees several yards away. “I’ve got another idea. Give me a hand with that log, Naomi.”

“Emily, this is fucking hopeless. Let’s just stop kidding ourselves and climb down,” Naomi said impatiently. “Let’s just tell them we’ll meet them back at the starting-off point.”

“I told you I don’t approve of quitting. I don’t roll that way. I’m your senior hiking partner and I’m honour-bound to get you to the mountaintop. Now, come on. Help me.” I grabbed one end of the trunk and jiggled it until it loosened.

Naomi went around the trees and shoved it hard from the other side.

The log came loose.

“Okay!” I said. “You take the back, I’ll take the front.”

Together, we carried the log to the swamp and set it down in the water. I pushed it until it bridged the water.

The log swayed for a moment before it made a glub glub sound and settled at the bottom.

“Good thinking,” Naomi said, grinning. “We just walk across. Right?”

“After you,” I said, holding out my arm.

Naomi stepped across the log bridge. “You know, Em?” she said with a smile as I crossed the bridge to join her. “I’m beginning to like the way you operate.”

“How are you doing, Em?” Naomi came up behind me and sat down on the rock next to me. “Looking good, eh?” she teased, her blue eyes dancing with humour.

I let out a chuckle, and wiped my face with the towel I had. It was still slightly damp and dirty from the icky combination of rainwater, mud, and sweat. “You know, this would make a great movie, if only I weren’t starring in it,” I said, and Naomi cracked up at this.

“But I have to be honest,” she said, finishing off her Pocari Sweat drink, “you make a decent hiking partner. You did great out there, Emily.”

With an exhausted smile, I shook my head and snorted, “Come on. Really now? You don’t have to kiss my arse.”

The blonde laughed. “I know I don’t have to. But you just look so tragic.” She giggled again, her eyes crinkling at the corners in a warming way.

I drew back, captivated by the rare sound of Naomi’s laugh. “See? You glow when you laugh! You should laugh more often,” I told her. “Take my advice, Naomi: try not to be too negative most of the time.”

Her forehead crinkled. “Negative?”

“I mean, unless you’re purposely having a conversation in order to critique something, mentioning your observations out loud just sort of makes you seem pointlessly negative and nitpicking.”

Naomi’s response was only a benign smile and nod which surprised me.

I drew back again with amazement. “What? No violent reaction? No slinging back vicious words? Where’s the warfreak Naomi Campbell?”

“Whether well of half-baked,” she said, “I acknowledge all observations.”

I blew out a heavy breath, wiping the sweat off my forehead, then grinned at her. “Good. Because I’m too tired for another altercation.”

“Sorry if I seemed to be merely trying to bust the blood vessel on your forehead.” Naomi reached out to brush some of the remaining mud away from my face with her finger, catching me off guard. “Believe it or not, I had a bit of fun.”

“Oh I bet you did,” I said, trying to control the outbreak of butterflies in my tummy. “Watching me suffer is your foul idea of fun, it seems.”

A playful smirk formed on Naomi’s lips as she tinkered with her empty Pocari Sweat bottle. “It certainly is my cup of coffee.” Then she cocked her head toward the group who were intensely doing yoga. “Not gonna join them?”

I shook my head. “I’d rather not. I’ve done enough stretching from struggling to stay alive down there. I’m sure you can attest to this.”

“True, true.” She looked down smiling, biting down into her bottom lip.

“You know, I like it when you do that,” I let slip.

Naomi glanced up, her brow crinkled. “Do what?”

“When you bite your lip,” I explained. “I don’t know. I really like it. It makes you look less bitchy and more . . . sexy vulnerable.”

Naomi’s lip twitched before her mouth broke into a smile. “Thanks, I guess,” she mumbled, blushing.

“Kind of hard to find an angle from here on where I don’t sound like a total creep, eh?” I rummaged inside my rucksack for a bottle of water.

“S’fine.” She gave a casual half-shrug. “I do accept compliments every now and then.”

I uncapped the bottle and daintily took a sip of water. “Lovely view, right?” I said, changing the topic.

Naomi nodded and breathed in the moderately cool autumn air. “Stunning, even. Behold the sea of clouds . . .”

For some moments, we silently took in the amazing views of Amanohashidate and Kunda Bay—with its wonderful crescent-shaped beach, the panoramic views of the sea, Mt. Aoba, Hakusan and the Japan Alps, as well as just about every peak in Kyoto and Hyogo Prefectures.

I glanced sideways at Naomi and cocked an eyebrow. “Worth all the trouble, bickering, and getting lost, eh?”

The Aussie agreed, a soft smile on her face. “Absolutely.”

I reached into my rucksack, pulled out a packet of pretzels and tore it open. “Pretzels?” I offered to the blonde.

She fished out a handful. “Thanks.”

We were interrupted by the loud squeals and laughter of Panda and Halo who were making silly poses with the funny-looking Jizō statues nearby.

“What’s up with you three?” Naomi queried, eyeing the two girls with slight curiosity. “I mean, you, Pandora and Halo. The three of you seem to have gotten real close . . .”

“Yea, well, we happen to have the same weird interests and we get along really well.”

Naomi popped a pretzel into her mouth. “What were you three doing in Panda’s room anyway?”

“Oh you mean last night?” I said, taking small bites of my pretzel. “We watched a marathon of Glee together.”

“Glee?” Her nose scrunched up.

“Why? You don’t like Glee?”

“I don’t watch it.”

“I thought so. You seem like the anti-musical type.”

“Not so much that. I’m just not particularly a fan of the revolving door of relationships going on there.” The blonde’s lip curled up in distaste.

“So Naomi Campbell’s an advocate for monogamy, too, eh?” I asked, between bites.

Naomi looked at me, her expression serious. “Why? Don’t you think it’s just appropriate?”

“I do, I do.” I nodded. “I actually believe in one true love.”

“Oookay.” She cracked a laugh. “Let’s not go there.”

“Let me blow your mind and tell you that I’ve never cheated on anyone. Ever. I’ve never even cheated in school. Ever. I just don’t play around.”

“Is that right?” I saw the sudden twitch of Naomi’s lips, the pain in her eyes, which made me sense that perhaps the former sort of cheating was a sore subject for her. Instead, I just decided to concentrate more on the latter type to redeem the moment.

“Well, I was a very obedient student,” I said, grinning sheepishly. “I didn’t really like breaking rules.”

I knew it worked because Naomi had responded. “And now?”

“Let’s just say I’ve transformed a bit, thanks to you.”

Naomi’s azure eyes locked with mine before she tilted her head to the side and snorted, “Me?”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “But there’s just something about you guys—you, especially—that makes me want to challenge myself and go out of my comfort zone, you know.”

The red colour on her cheeks intensified. “Really.”

I chuckled embarrassedly to myself. “Now I really sound like a fucking creep.”

Naomi bit her lip, smiling. “Well, yea. Just a little bit.”

I offered the packet of pretzels again and Naomi took out another handful. “So you hate stuff like this?” I asked. “The outdoor activities, I mean.”

The blonde smirked. “Let me blow your mind and tell you that I seriously do hiking and rock-climbing.”

“You do?”

“Yep. Took first place at a climbing match some years ago. I was just too lazy to step in and volunteer when Thomas planned the whole trip. You know how I am with people. ‘Show me what you’ve got first then I’ll take it from there.’ Figured you’ve got something to show off but—”

I held up a hand, cutting her off. “Oookay. Let’s stop there before it turns sour,” I interrupted. “But, wow. That’s too cool. You’re like a legit climber.”

She shoved a couple of pretzels into her mouth. “Sort of, yes,” she replied. “Have you done any climbing before?”

“Well . . . I’m the girl to beat on the playground jungle gym,” I replied, sheepishly raking my hand over the top of my head.

Naomi laughed loudly, obviously not falling for it.

“Okay, I lied. I never played on the jungle gym,” I admitted. “In fact, I wasn’t an outdoorsy type of person. Actually, I’m not any sort of person but just a dork who stayed in her room and read books. Which was odd because my dad’s totally the sporty type. He owns a gym.”

“Yea, that’s funny weird. I bet your dad’s the animated, enthusiastic type.”

“He could be incredibly annoying, yes. Sometimes he’ll just randomly summon us to the living room to do jumping jacks while shouting, ‘Don’t get fit; get Fitch!’” I said with matching silly hand gestures, and Naomi laughed, choking out through a huge bite of pretzel.

“Well, I grew up in a family of adventurers so being outdoorsy was the norm,” Naomi shared after she sobered. “My grandpa’s actually in Africa right now. My mum’s all over the world. My aunt’s practically a nomad. When I was younger, we go on camping and hiking trips.”

“You’re lucky ‘cos Australia’s the perfect venue to do some extreme physical activities. It’s just hopeless in Bristol.”

“I guess you’re right,” she said. “You should visit someday. I bet you’ll get a kick out of the place.”

I raised a brow, smiling. “Is that an invitation to a future climbing match?”

“I guess it is.”

“It’s on, Campbell.” I held out a hand.

With a smug smirk, Naomi took my hand and shook it tight. “Oh, it is so on, Fitch.”

Naomi and I talked quietly for a long time, morning giving way to noontime. Her colourful descriptions of the Australian mountains were vivid and detailed, making me feel as if I was there with her, and I found myself wondering how many times, and with how many other people, she’d shared these stories. As I listened to her, the appreciation I felt added to my growing sense of affection for Naomi. Though I knew I was treading on a very dangerous ground, I was somehow unable to control myself.

Delightful and dangerous, I mused, as I made my way toward Naomi Campbell who was looking very agitated and hostile whilst guzzling down her second can of beer in front of the television. How could I possibly bulldoze all of her defences away? Was that even achievable? It seemed that every day was a battle for me, every day I have to push to make headway with Naomi.

“Hey. Thought I owe you for the ice cream so I got you this.” I held out a container of mixed fruit yoghurt—the one I always see her scooping up in the kitchen—in front of Naomi.

The blonde just stared at it. “You don’t owe me anything, Emily.”

I stood there awkwardly, my hand still offering the yoghurt. “Okay. But just take this,” I insisted. “Please.”

She gave me a weirded-out look, but took the yoghurt anyway. “Okay. Well, thanks,” she said tonelessly, then she turned to JJ and they began chatting away.

I walked back to my spot on the couch across from them and sat down. I was seriously beginning to feel uncomfortable. Naomi had been acting weird again. She hadn’t made an effort to talk to me since we assembled here in the dormitory lounge. It seemed as if she’s only her carefree, friendly, open self when it’s just the two of us. But whenever we’re with a group, she totally transforms back into this . . . stranger—a dreadfully guarded one. And it bothered and confused me a lot.

“This is outrageous. You call this pizza?” Halo was looking down, mouth open and eyes wide, at the box of Pizza-la like it was the most disgusting thing. “No freaking way!”

Well, it seemed like it was, to be perfectly honest. The pizza was probably the weirdest one I’d ever seen—sprinkled with corn kernels, topped with baked potato, slices of sausage and seaweed, and drenched in mayonnaise, so much mayonnaise.

“Looks like 2,000 calories a slice.” Sean grimaced. “This is insane. It even comes with maple syrup as a dipping sauce.” He inspected the sauce container then let out a groan.

“Guys, relax,” Karen said. “Believe it or not, this is the least repulsive-looking flavour available on the menu. This monstrosity is actually just the tip of the iceberg. If you check out the website, some of them look kind of good, but you don’t want to read the ingredients.” She grabbed a slice and sat back down on the couch, crossing her legs. “Just be happy there’s pizza here.”

“I know,” Thomas spoke. “And I appreciate that Japan manages to provide homesick gaijins (foreigners) with a sort of similar product from back home, but somewhere along the line, chain pizza stores in Japan got it all wrong.” Everyone cracked up at this.

“Thommo, please, don’t make us laugh so much,” Panda said in a flirty tone, in between laughing fits. “I still have muscle aches from that crazy hiking we did earlier.”

Karen daintily took a bite of pizza. “Whether you love it or hate it,” she said, “Japanese pizza exists, period.”

“Fuck it. I’m starving.” Naomi reached out and snatched a slice. She nibbled at it from the side, and I realised that I’d never actually seen someone eat pizza that way. Very cute.

We all grabbed a slice each and got busy eating as we continued watching this Swedish horror flick, Frostbiten. Pandora’s idea, obviously. It was her and Karen’s sick idea of a fun bonding activity.

Halo plopped down beside me, facing me completely. “Hi, Emily. Um, I know you like pizza crusts whereas I like the toppings. Let’s trade?” She grinned, holding up her paper plate with the mutilated pizza on it. “I really hate the crusts. They’re dry and heavy in the tummy.”

I smiled and nodded. “Sure.” We exchanged pizza parts.

Tonight was movie night with the gang in the lounge. Panda brought some Swedish horror DVDs, Midsommer and Frostbiten, with her so we were all seated in front of the television, eating pizza and drinking beer. I had completely lost my appetite because across the low table Naomi and JJ looked like they were caught up in their own world, whispering things to each other, paying no attention to the movie and anyone else.

After the spine-tingling films, we decided to carry on our boozy party so we occupied a long table and played a swift round of Suck and Blow and afterwards, a deadly drinking game—

“The enhanced Truth, Dare, Double-Dare, Kiss, Torture, or Promise!” Karen announced to the lot. 

—which could only spell trouble . . .

“Are we seriously gonna continue with this stupid game?” I whispered to the French girl after ten minutes of playing. I was conscious that things were about to get out of hand.

“Stay tuned, Baby Fitch.” Karen gave me a wink. “The night is young and shit’s about to get real!”

Karen was right. The lamest parts of the game had come to a halt and the wild portion had just begun. A couple of hours into the game, everyone was already arseholed enough to step the game up—which now involves a ridiculous amount of stripping, screaming, and gross snogging.

I am a bit normal compared to the others, I can tell. Cook ended up wearing only his boxers. Sean had horrid bruises all over his back from fuck-knows-what. Panda and Thomas were unsurprisingly busy having a tongue duel. Karen did a slutty dance on top of the table. Halo was on a couch moaning like she was having a fake orgasm. And when the bottle cap had pointed to Effy’s direction and I saw her throwing me an ‘I’m feeling naughty tonight’ look, I knew I was in grave danger. 

“Emily.” Just one fucking word. Three fucking syllables. My fucking name. And Elizabeth Stonem came, snaking her way toward me with a naughty smirk on her beautiful face.

Forehead suddenly sweating, my eyes nervously darted right away to Naomi—the blonde’s jaw was slightly dropped and her eyes . . . I knew there was something there—like a mixture of shock, displeasure, and jealousy. And, oh boy, if looks could truly kill, Effy could have been resting six feet below by now.

To my utter bewilderment, Effy sat on my lap, straddling me, and lifted her hands to gently tuck the strands of red hair that have gone astray on my face. Although eyeing me hungrily, the brunette delicately caressed my face like I was some china doll made of porcelain.

“Ready, Emily?” Effy murmured before flashing me her trademark smile.

And I couldn’t do anything else but merely stare up at Effy defenselessly. It was like she had put me under a spell. I was just beginning to process what was happening when Effy cupped my cheeks and dived in to crash her lips against mine. Her lips tasted like cigarettes, beer, and cinnamon. A bit weird. Good weird. But still, weird.

Her tongue forced an entry so I slightly parted my lips to let it in. Fuuuuck. Our tongues were battling here and there and everything still felt odd because all I could think of was the blonde who had the most luscious lips I had ever seen. And I wanted those. Not these . . .

With the lounge booming with loud cheering from the pumped up boys, Effy’s mouth was still moving against mine for what felt like three minutes already. Her hands were traveling up and down the sides of my body. Yet again, I took a chance to peer guiltily at Naomi and I had never seen her so tormented. I knew I had to put a stop to this. I gently pushed Effy off me, slowly, and tried to wriggle my way out.

“Hey, that’s not fair, Emily,” the brunette murmured, her hands still clinging to my waist. “Rules of kissing: Whoever begins the kiss shall necessarily finish it.”

I stood up and bent down to whisper into her ear, “Sorry, Eff, but I don’t always play by the rules.” I offered her a feeble apologetic smile before reeling toward the table to grab another can of beer. Effy might be twisted but she was a likable mate.

 

Effy went back to her seat and guzzled down more beer as the lads booed and begged “More! More!” I noticed that the brunette’s head was bent down, looking serious, but after taking a last drop from the beer can, Effy lifted her head up and her blue eyes flicked toward me with a mystifying glint in them and a slightly crooked smile played upon her lips. My breath caught in my throat. Fuck. Crazy Effy, what is it you’re up to?

Sipping my beer, I saw the bottle spin and stop, pointing at Naomi. 

I stiffened. Oh, dear God. Naomi, please don’t do anything stupid, I secretly prayed as I tinkered nervously with my beer can with sweating hands. 

Next thing I knew Naomi grabbed JJ’s head and they started making out.

Okay. About the ‘making out’ part, I wasn’t really sure. Maybe it was just an exaggerated product of my paranoid imagination because all I saw from the corner of my eye, before completely turning my back on the Aussie lovebirds, was Naomi’s blond hair moving over wimpy JJ’s head.

 

My jaw tightened as I felt a sledgehammer hit me real hard in the stomach. More hooting ensued.

Quickly I downed a rather large gulp of beer, slamming the can on the table. “Fuck this. I’m out,” I muttered to myself, quickly heading for the exit.

A hand grabbed my wrist, stopping me short. “Hey. Is everything okay, Rouge?” Freddie asked worriedly.

I nodded stiffly, not meeting his gaze. “Yep. It’s just, uhm, just my head. I’m feeling a bit woozy. I need to freshen up.”

He squinted at me, suspicious. But slowly he let go of my arm and just said, “Okay. Will you be back?”

“Maybe,” I mumbled, then headed for the double doors.

I lied. I was jealous. So fucking jealous. My mind and heart and tummy just couldn’t digest the scene. It was bloody torture.

As soon as I got out of the lounge, I darted down the hallway right into the comfort room. I looked in the mirror. Tears were forming in my eyes. Shit. I splashed some water on my face. Fucking hell. What is this game Naomi’s playing? I just couldn’t bring myself to understand whatever this is between us. Whatever this is, it was fucking ripping my heart out.

I felt a bit groggy, I stank of alcohol, and it felt like my heart had been trampled. I couldn’t find the strength to walk back into the lounge without unwanted tears trickling down my face so I opted to just scurry upstairs directly into the comfort of my room.

Naomi Campbell was dangerous, indeed. But the most frustrating part was:

I still wanted to have her.

“What the hell is she playing at?” I glared at the ceiling.

It was 2:45 in the morning and I was still staring numbly at ceiling, lying in my bed. I spent the last couple of hours thinking, letting the alcohol leave my system, and, yes, a bit of crying. Blame it all on lesbian processing.

Damn. I thought I had become stronger. It was just so ironic that the girl who had offered me all this newfound strength was also the one who could readily weaken me.

I wiped my face with the sleeve of my shirt when an unpleasant odour struck me. Swiftly, I got off the bed, grabbed my towel and bath kit, and headed downstairs for the shower room. I had been fortunate enough to shower alone yesterday and now—considering that it’s almost three o’clock in the morning—I reckon I’d be lucky again.

Just as I reached the basement, I heard a note being played on the piano in the lounge. I stopped to listen. After a moment, more music drifted into the hallway. I smiled as I recognised the song.

I was gonna take a peek inside the lounge but didn’t bother anymore because I couldn’t bear my own odour—that nauseatingly kicked, by the way—any longer. I was so pumped up, so ready to wash it all off—particularly the contagious confusion I got from Naomi Campbell.

I was so ready but that didn’t stop me from being completely thrown by the sight that greeted me when I opened the door to the shower room.

I found, none other than, Naomi Campbell standing in front of the sink, wearing only a black bra and unzipped denim shorts that showed a bit of fabric of her black lace knickers. I stopped short at the view and wasn’t able to control myself from tracing her sensuous curves with my eyes. 

Oh. Sweet. Jesus.

The blonde’s gaze eventually locked with mine through the mirror—those impossibly blue eyes. She stiffened as soon as she noticed me, but the look on her face was undecipherable. I felt the heat rush between my legs and a wild blush blooming upon my face. For some intense moments we stood there staring at each other—or me deliberately eye-fucking her, rather—when I luckily snapped out of it and decided to turn to retreat. Quickly I swept outside the room like a proper weirdo. 

My heart fluttered wildly inside, pounding against my chest. Enough with this hazardous chain of events, I decided as I dashed down the hallway.

I slung my towel over one shoulder and aimed for the lounge. I was going to wait for Naomi to finish. Fuck Naomi and her sexy blue eyes, I thought. Fuck her sexy succulent lips, her sexy flawless skin, her sexy blond hair, her sexy Aussie accent, her sexy body . . . her sexy lingerie. All I knew was I wasn’t sure if I would be able to breathe properly if I would be stuck in the shower room with her fully naked. Who cares if she now thinks there must be something wrong with me? I’d rather be weird in her eyes than be a complete fucking pervert. I gave my head a little shake before pushing open the door into the lounge and stepped in.

Hastily I closed the steel door behind me, leant against it, and tried to stabilise my ragged breathing when a piano tune came to a stop.

“Well, hello there, Emily Fitch.”

I straightened up. “Halo,” I breathed, startled to see my friend there. She was sat on the vinyl upholstered piano bench in front of the black Yamaha grand piano in her funky sleepwear.

Halo gave me a look—one that was half-quizzical and half-amused. “Are you guys playing Hide & Seek? How come I wasn’t informed about this?”

I gave a nervous laugh. “No, no. I was just — I —”

She quirked a brow. “Ran over into someone in the shower room?”

Another nervous chuckle. “What? No. No, I was just—”

Halo shook her head, grinning. “Never mind,” she said. “Anyways, that was quite a gathering we just had, right?”

“Very unsettling,” I said grimly, walking to the piano to stand next to her.

“Oh come on. The party was fucking epic!” Halo laughed. “Karen, Panda, and Sean have passed out. We had to carry them to their rooms. You should’ve seen Panda. She was so freaking funny. She was talking about imaginary alien monkeys and bawling about a freaking salami sausage or something before she blacked out.”

That made me snort a chuckle. “Too bad I missed that part.”

At that, Halo narrowed her eyes at me inquisitively. “Where’d you run off to, anyway? I mean, you just disappeared on us.” She scooched over on the bench to make room for me.

“I went up to my room,” I answered meekly, taking a seat. “Had a killer headache so I thought of resting for a while.” I placed my bath kit down on the floor beside the piano.

Halo nodded. “Oh, okay.” She began striking random notes on the piano then stopped to look at me again. With a teasing smile playing upon her lips, she said, “So . . . Emily . . .”

“Yes?”

“Did you enjoy Effy’s lips?” she asked, teasingly nudging me with her elbow. “That was super hot what you guys did, seriously.” She giggled.

I gave a tiny lopsided smile then answered at length, “Not really. It was awkward.”

“Oh come on. It was hot!”

“It was awkward.”

“H-h-hot with a capital H.”

“Fine,” I gave in. “It was hot but it was still awkward.”

She snorted a laugh then waved me off. “Whatever you say, Emily Fitch. You always deny things when in fact you’re pretty obvious.”

“I don’t really get what you’re driving at, Halo,” I said in a serious tone.

“Okay. Ignore me.” Halo slung one arm around my shoulders and used the other to play a sweet melody on the ivory keys of the piano. “You know, Emily, you seriously should learn how to ease up a little bit. You know, be less stiff and timid. You look scared all the time.”

Feeling a bit flustered that my friend could actually see right through me, I only responded, “Just play on, will you?”

As if trying to kid around some more, Halo stopped playing and crossed her arms over her chest. “Nope.” She poked her tongue out at me.

“No, seriously. Please. You’re amazing,” I pleaded, holding her arm and shaking it in a begging manner. “I want to hear you play a full song. It might be just what I need after all the fucked up things that happened earlier.”

“Yea, it really was fucked up, wasn’t it?” Halo grimaced, clicking her tongue. “Now that I could remember clearly . . .”

“Were JJ and Naomi—you know . . . ?” I trailed off. I just couldn’t ask it directly.

Halo’s brow crinkled in confusion. “Were they what?”

“Were they . . .” I hesitated, “you know . . . intimate the whole night?”

She leant back a bit, baffled. “Intimate?”

“You know . . . were they making out the whole night?” I finally simplified.

“Making out?” Halo quickly reacted with a loud laugh. “Did they make out? Ew! That is so gross!”

I nodded, my jaw tightening from the sickening memory. “Yea, gross.”

“I wouldn’t hook up with JJ even if he’s the last guy on earth.” Halo was cracking up so hard.

“But they kissed. Made out even. During the drinking game . . .” I was attempting to fish for more details.

“No. Ew. I mean, I was there right next to them,” Halo explained. “And even though I was a bit drunk that time I can confidently say that it was only a smack on the lips. Then they were just, like, whispering some things to each other. I knew they were cheating. But who gave a crap if they were? Everyone was shitfaced as hell, anyways.”

“So Naomi and JJ weren’t cuddly after—?”

“Nope. Naomi got bored and left right after you ditched us,” Halo said whilst playing a brief snippet of Yiruma’s “River Flows in You” on the piano. “I don’t know what’s the deal with those two, though. Especially Naomi. I don’t get that chick from the get-go.”

“Me neither. That girl is just twisted in so many levels.”

“But you’re not jealous, are you?” Halo asked suspiciously. Then her eyes widened and she gasped, “Oh . . . my . . . God . . . Are you?”

Shit. My face probably turned pale, but I managed to shake my head furiously in denial. “What? No, no—!”

“Oh, my God! You have a thing for JJ Jones!” Halo’s eyes were large with disbelief and amusement.

I felt the colour coming back as I felt relief. “No, no way!” I said. “Halo, will you stop it, please?”

“I’m only kidding,” laughed Halo. “Keep calm, girl. You’re so touchy.”

I shifted on the bench, letting out a breath. Whew. That was close. “Can’t you just play some more?” I asked, trying to shift the topic.

“I’m not that good,” Halo said. “I haven’t played in a while, and—”

“Please?” I asked, almost begging. The sound of piano being played, echoing throughout the lounge, was amazing. It gave a sense of warmth that I hadn’t felt in a long time. It almost made it feel like I was back home in Bristol.

Halo looked at me for a moment, and then sighed. “Alright. You’re lucky I enjoy showing off.”

I leant my elbow on the edge of the piano to watch and listen intently as my friend played a Chopin classical piece skillfully. I was thoroughly pleased and surprised to find out that it was Halo who was lurking inside the lounge and secretly playing the piano. Not being judgmental or anything, but crazy Halo didn’t just strike me as the refined, cultured, piano-playing type.

Halo looked at me as she played on. “Do you play?”

I shook my head, smiling. “Nope. I mean, not anymore. My mum tried to get me to play and hired a piano instructor for me and my sister, but I never took it seriously. I preferred to just simply read. My sister, Katie, though, she’s amazing with the piano. Her fingers just . . . flow across the keys, and she just loses herself in the music. It’s kinda special.”

“She sounds really cool.”

“She is,” I said softly.

“What sort of music does she play?”

“Everything,” I answered. “She loved playing the pieces from musicals the most, though. I, uh, I remember that one song you played a while ago. I was passing by the lounge when I heard it. It was her favourite, and she would always play it while I sing along.”

“Oh. You mean, ‘Sun and Moon’?” she asked. I nodded.

“That’s kind of surprising,” she said. “I mean, you’re the first person I know who’s familiar with that song.”

“Well, we’re both into Miss Saigon. It’s one of our faves,” I shared. “We would always perform that and ‘Think of Me’ from The Phantom of the Opera whenever our grandparents came over to visit.”

“Sing along, then.” Halo began playing the piece.

I straightened up and joined in.

You are sunlight and I moon
Joined by the gods of fortune
Midnight and high noon
Sharing the—

The music abruptly stopped. “Oh my God.” Halo’s eyes were wide with amazement. “You can sing. Like, you can really sing. And wow, holy jeez, that is like the weirdest thing! You have such a raspy, low speaking voice but when you sing it’s like—Where the heck did that come from?!”

I blushed. It was true. People just couldn’t believe how my hoarse speaking voice could magically change into something that sounds so angelically golden when I sing. “Thanks,” I said, smiling shyly. “Well, when Katie and I started learning the piano, it was one of the first real songs we learned, and we worked really hard to master it. I love singing it.”

“You’re born to sing. Don’t waste it,” Halo said, genuinely impressed. “I can still play some more if you want.”

I nodded slowly. “If it’s okay.”

“Sure.” Halo grinned. “It’s actually kind of nice to play again. And of course, it’s a good excuse to be able to hear your heavenly voice.”

I smiled at this. Halo set her hands back on the keys then started playing, incorporating the chords with her left hand. I started humming along softly and she glanced at me with a smile.

As Halo started again, I decided to sing with the music.

“You play brilliantly,” I said, looking at the way her fingers moved on the ebony and ivory keys as she played the final chords. Her long fingers looked like they belonged on a keyboard.

“And you, on the other hand, sing brilliantly,” Halo returned, grinning.

After a few begging and over-the-top praises from me, Halo gave in and played Satie’s “Trois Gymnopédies” for me.

I tilted my head, resting it on my hand. My thoughts shifted back to my sister Katie who could also play the piano superbly. I suck at handling musical instruments or anything manually operated for that matter—my hand-eye coordination was faulty. Katie was more of that type. However, I was the twin blessed with the voice—and, erm, the brain—as unbelievable as that might have sounded. I did miss those times when Katie would play the piano and I would sing next to her. Despite our differences, we made a good set of twins. I let out a sigh and reminded myself to call Katie later. I truly missed my sister.

After the fun lounge rendezvous with Heaven Lopez, I made my way back to the shower room and ended up having an awkward shower with the Vietnamese girl named Mai Ly.

I hadn’t intended for the shower to be quite long, but thoughts ate me up.

I’d been hearing way too much of that little voice in my head lately. Once it had encouraged me to take the chances that most of the time landed me in trouble or with a broken heart, now it just seemed to nag me. Hoping to shut it off, I retreated to my room, picked up a book, and settled in to read.

I finished the book all too soon, freeing my mind to wander. Except that it didn’t; it went straight back to exactly where I didn’t want it to go.

To the delightful and dangerous and confusing Naomi Campbell.

Word Count: 22,151