“Thanks for letting me stay the night, Misaki.” Stretched out on the blanket, I took a sip at the soda Misaki had brought and waited for her reaction. Her expression was troubled almost the entire day and it bothered me. In front of us, the slow-moving river reflected the sky like a mirror, the stillness broken only by a flock of herons passing overhead and the swaying low boughs of the trees lining the banks of Kamo River.
Sunglasses in place, Misaki managed the tiniest of shrugs and responded in a neutral tone, “Well, I can’t bear the thought of a poor, little redhead sleeping on the tiled floor of a subway station, can I?”
I let out a titter, fiddling absently with the knot of my yellow sleeveless tie-front blouse. “No, but, seriously, thanks for having my back.”
“Anytime.” In one hand she held a straw, which she was worrying between her lips, unaware that I was secretly watching her as she stared contemplatively at the clear blue sky. With an easy movement, she tucked a strand of shiny black hair behind her ear. I nearly sighed at the innocence of the gesture, and the way it exposed her graceful delicate neck to my view.
Behind me, Oz barked and lunged at something. The sudden movement and noise startled Misaki and she looked sideways at me. But as soon as her gaze caught mine, she shifted her eyes awkwardly back to the sky. Weird, I thought.
I rolled over onto my stomach, propped my chin up with my fist, and ventured for a casual chat. “No wonder you’re bubbling with sweetness. It’s really Mr. Coca-Cola, isn’t it?”
“So they say,” Misaki replied without looking, putting down her now-empty Coke can on the blanket. Clearly preoccupied, her responses were succinct.
Oz bounded to the pretty Japanese girl, gave her stylish sunglasses a few sloppy licks, then ran back toward the waterside to chase some birds.
“See? Even Oz can’t get enough of you,” I teased lightly, nodding toward the dog. “You’re just too sweet.”
“So it seems.” Abruptly Misaki stood up. She removed her sunglasses, stared through them, then wiped them on her light purple summer scarf. She then replaced the glasses in a case and kept them inside her floral handbag.
I watched her with alarm as she moved, seemingly distracted, toward a small, portable grill and began to work—opening bags of charcoal briquettes and assembling some barbecue stuff. Her movements were not with the usual grace and gentleness—in fact, she looked mighty fierce.
My heart pounded in my chest. I was nonplussed. Misaki wasn’t normally so taciturn in her answers and actions. I clearly wondered what the heck was going on inside her head, but I couldn’t seem to find the words or the guts to ask her.
She had been acting strange since last night, I observed. When I showed up with my tear-streaked face at her door, she looked more uncomfortable than worried. I was constantly busy crying my eyes out. And Misaki was careful to keep me at a distance.
After draining my can of soda, I got up and walked over to her. “What’s all this? And how can I help?” I managed to say cheerfully enough.
Misaki’s voice was tense. “We should start the grill. They should be here soon.” She piled charcoal briquettes with a pair of tongs and handed me some newspaper. “Here—twist and crumple.”
I started unfolding the paper, crumpling a couple of sheets into balls, and another few into folded fanlike lengths that I twisted and handed to Misaki, who set them inside the charcoal pile.
“Hey, we make a good team,” I said brightly, moving to stand across her around the grill.
But Misaki didn’t comment on this. Instead, she lit a match, started the fire and asked, “When are you planning to face Naomi?”
I swallowed back. Misaki wasn’t usually this straightforward. “I don’t know,” I mumbled.
She grabbed a piece of carton and started fanning forcefully at the coals. “You can’t hide from her forever. I mean, I can’t hide you from her forever, Emily. It’s just, I just feel like . . .” Lost in thought, she seemed to lose track of her sentence.
“I know that,” I said. “And I’m not expecting you to do that, okay?”
Misaki looked at me then. “It’s just that I feel so bad for Naomi. She must be worried sick about you right now. And she might be going crazy right now, wondering where you are and looking all over Kyoto for you.”
“I know,” I said quietly, my heart sinking by the second. “But I’m not ready yet. I need more time to think.”
Watching me, she accepted that. “Okay.”
“Look,” I said, looking at her very intently, “I know I may seem a little out of sorts. But I know what I’m doing.”
Staring at me, she finally nodded. “Okay.”
Misaki began to fan again, rather vehemently, at the wimpy flames whilst I clumsily rearranged the briquettes with the pair of tongs. Soon smoke and ashes drifted around our little picnic spot. Together we continued working on the coals not speaking a word to each other until all of a sudden I saw Misaki flinch and cover her eyes as if something had stung her. She drew back jerkily and started whimpering quietly.
“What happened? Are you okay?” I asked worriedly, moving toward her quickly.
“My contacts,” she whimpered, not taking her hands off her eyes. “They’ve dried up, I guess. Agh—” She scuttled back to the blanket and plopped down on it.
I rushed over to her. “Okay. Don’t move,” I whispered soothingly, kneeling down next to her. “Let me check.” Gently I took her hands off her eyes then studied the pair of deep brown orbs closely, checking if there was dirt or something.
Misaki started blinking frantically. “It hurts,” she moaned and writhed and I thought she looked so cute.
“Must be staring at the flames a little longer than necessary,” I said, stifling laughter. “You were kind of intense over there at the grill, you know. Sadistic, even.”
She laughed, despite the tension. “You’re mean. Don’t laugh at my misery.” She raised her hand and was about to touch her eye when I stopped her.
“Stay still and don’t rub at your eyes,” I commanded.
“But it’s itchy,” she protested.
With a gentle thumb, I rubbed off some dirt that stuck on her left cheek. “Tell me what you need. Did you bring the liquid thingy for your contact lenses?” I said, taking a peek in her bag. “Or I could always use my saliva. It has adhesive qualities.” I wetted my lips with my tongue jokingly. “Want to put it to test?”
“Iya da (Eww)!” Misaki gave my arm a light, playful slap. “Emily-chan!” She laughed which in turn made me feel relieved that the old Misaki was back.
I gave a shrug. “I just wanted to help.”
Misaki dug something out of her handbag. “You could just hold this up for me.” She handed me a circular pocket mirror and positioned my hand so that it was at her eye-level.
I watched in silence as she carefully poured a few drops of solution to her eyes. She paused and reached in her handbag again to pull out a bag of pretzels. “Hold on. I need my comfort food,” she said, using her teeth to tear open the bag. She plunked a pretzel into her mouth then went back to nursing her eyes.
Misaki Ueno was definitely different from any other, I mused. I had always thought fashionable, image-conscious Japanese girls just cared about looking pretty and staying pretty and couldn’t possibly come with a brain or a heart. Like the scarecrow in Wizard of Oz. Filled with nothing but fluff. But Misaki wasn’t like that. Not at all.
More than just a pretty face. Beautiful inside-out. Those were understatements.
“What are you thinking about?” Misaki’s head was tilted, her small aqua blue solution bottle held up in mid-motion.
I lowered my head with a sharp little jerk, yanking my gaze from her. “Nothing,” I mumbled, raising the mirror to hide my suddenly flushed face.
Misaki touched my hand, gently pushing it down so that she could see my face. “I don’t buy that,” she said. “What is it?”
“I was just, uhm, admiring your lip gloss,” I said a bit lamely, and hastened to add, “It gives your lips this really nice glow. It’s really pretty.”
She stared at me for a bit then suddenly reached out and offered the bag of pretzels to me. “And yours look pale. Have some pretzels.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You haven’t eaten a thing all day, Emily-chan,” she said. “Eat these.”
“Really, I don’t feel like eating.”
She forced the bag of pretzels toward me. “Take it.”
I took the bag, lowering it to my lap.
“Now put some in your mouth, then chew and swallow,” Misaki ordered, sounding uncharacteristically aggressive.
Smirking in amusement, I cocked an eyebrow. “Did anyone ever tell you that you can be a li’l bit too pushy at times?”
“Only with you, Emily-chan.” She winked.
I poured out a small handful of pretzels and began to chew. “Happy now?”
Misaki grinned. “Very.” She gave my head a gentle pat. “Good girl,” she teased, and I automatically stuck my tongue out at her.
We leant back on the blanket on our elbows, neither of us speaking. Instead, we simply watched the sky and crunched down pretzels in comfortable silence. The sun was beginning its descent, streams of gold reflecting off the river. In the distance, a heron broke from the trees and gracefully skimmed the surface, spreading out the light. Oz came back panting, his tongue hanging out, and he curled up at my feet.
“I wish Yuka was here. For added entertainment factor,” I broke the silence. “Plus, I bet she’d love the barbecue . . . and playing with Oz . . . and watching the bonfire light-up . . .”
“Yea, too bad the little drama queen’s in Tokyo right now,” Misaki agreed. Then turning on her side to face me completely, she added, “Yuka misses you a lot, you know. She really likes you. She talked about you the whole time during the concert. She’s like, ‘Emily Sensei said this,’ ‘Emily Sensei said that’.” She smiled to herself and shook her head. “I still can’t believe you’ve become so close and she had clung to you in such a short span of time. I swear, you’re the only other person she’s ever been pleasant to.”
I couldn’t suppress a smug smile. “Oh, you know,” I said. “Me and my shining personality. Everybody loves Emily Fitch.”
Misaki let out a soft, amused laugh. “Yea, I’ve no objection to that. I’m a big fan.” Then something in my hair caught her eye. “Hold on. You’ve got something . . .”
As she reached up and took a camellia petal off my hair, her gaze held mine. I had the sudden sense again that she was about to kiss me, and thank God, she quickly turned away. Really weird, I observed. I moved my feet nervously on the blanket, knowing that this was dangerous territory. I knew Misaki, too, was trying to reestablish some boundaries between us.
Oz jerked up, his tiny white ears pointing to the sky, when he heard an incoming new flock of birds. Excitedly, he raced back toward the water and began chasing them.
Misaki straightened up and looped her hair behind her ear. “We should check the grill. Get the coals going,” she said, an edge to her voice. “Scrape the dirt off or Aiko-san will lose her head. And do you want spicy chicken wings? I could—” She started to get up but I held her arm.
“Misaki,” I interrupted, sitting up and pulling her back down.
Misaki couldn’t meet my eyes, just stared at the slow-moving water in front of us.
I bit my lip, struggling to decide on what to do. All I knew was I shouldn’t let this awkwardness progress any further. I couldn’t bear Misaki’s tenseness around me anymore. I leant toward my friend slightly. “Is something bothering you, Misaki?”
She still wouldn’t look at me.
“Misaki?” I repeated, giving her arm a squeeze and trying to meet her gaze. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Atama ga kongaragatta (You’re doing my head in),” Misaki blurted out in a rush whilst she casually reached into my bag of pretzels and popped a couple in her mouth.
I drew back, my brows meeting in surprise. “Me? You’re the one who’s confusing. You’ve been acting strange since yesterday.”
She fished out a handful of pretzels, slowly nibbling each one, taking her time before responding. “I’m sorry. I just feel—This is terribly awkward. I’m sorry,” she admitted with a shaky laugh.
“Yes, it’s awkward. So would you mind telling me what’s in your head?”
“I don’t know.” She lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. “What I’m about to say is a little awkward too. I mean, I feel weird about it so . . .”
“This is awkward enough, trust me,” I said, giving her knee a few pats. “A bit more awkwardness wouldn’t hurt.”
Misaki hesitated.
“C’mon, just tell me.” I regarded her intently, giving her knee a gentle squeeze. “What’s going on, Misaki?”
Finally Misaki drew in a breath then met my eyes. “It was tough, Emily,” she said, her tone strangled. “Hearing the pain in Naomi’s voice earlier on the phone. And lying to her. It was really difficult. It felt as if I had lied to her face.”
“I know,” I said quietly. “And I’m sorry you got caught in the middle of this drama. I’m sorry that you had to lie to protect me.”
“Protecting you is not the issue. You know I always have your back. But just this—” She exhaled miserably. “This—deceiving Naomi—just makes me feel terribly guilty. I feel like a horrible person, like I betrayed her and our friendship.”
I reached for her hand, nodding in despair. “I know, I know. And I feel awful, too. You have no idea how much I want things to be better, to be okay, to be back to normal,” I told her wearily. “But unfortunately it’s not something that I can just wave a magic wand at and—poof!—everything’s solved.”
Misaki lowered her gaze, and I knew she knew I was being sincere. “I just wish I could fix it for you two.”
I stared at her in surprise. “Oh, no. No, no, no.” I shook my head. “No, Misaki. None of this should be your burden. Don’t dare make it your responsibility.”
“I try. But I can’t help but be affected, you know,” she said quietly, scratching thoughtlessly at something invisible on her denim cut-off shorts. “You and Naomi are close to me so it really bothers me a lot. It bothers all of us—Halo, Panda, your sister . . . Even Effy had asked me about it. It really sucks to be in this position, Emily. I can’t . . .”
When her voice died away, I squeezed her hand. “I know. But you shouldn’t be, okay? This is my problem with my girlfriend. It shouldn’t be your concern. None of you.”
Misaki opened her mouth, closed it, then decided to just take the plunge. “I know this might sound corny,” she began softly, “but koi to seki to wa kakusarenu. Love conquers all, Emily. I know there’s hope. And the way I see it, you and Naomi will make it because you are crazy about each other. If only you’d hold on and allow yourself to find a way to sort things out and if you’re willing to compromise, then it shouldn’t be that hard.”
I grew quiet then. “It’s easy for people to say that. But . . .” I brought my fingers to the bridge of my nose and squeezed. “Naomi is . . .”
When I didn’t continue, Misaki put a gentle hand on my hand that I had initially placed on top of her other hand. She looked at me for a long, silent moment. “Is it really that bad?”
Misaki had finally asked one of the questions that I was certain had been at the back of her mind these past few weeks. Ever since Naomi got back, I kind of became disconnected with my best friend. Sure, we text and talk to each other on the phone from time to time, but we never really had the chance to see each other in person and really talk. I wasn’t able to update her about my relationship developments with my girlfriend.
What’s more was that we had so many awkward moments that I was sure also lingered on her mind for a while. There were things—weird vibes—between us that were going off and a certain tension that had been unresolved for so long. When I popped in her apartment last night, I noticed that she had been itching to open up and ask about certain things but was hesitant because of my emotional instability at that moment.
“Even worse,” I answered at length. “Things happen. Naomi wants different things than I do. It’s been a problem for a while. Then there’s the perpetual trust issues. I can sense that she went back to being closed-off and scared. Then the fact that Naomi had practically abandoned me for a while—with only me putting efforts into our relationship. Then our spat last night was like the last nail in the coffin. She literally told me that I was choking her. And now that I’ve given her space, she can’t stand it. It’s maddening, you know. I don’t know, but it’s like the more we try to push, the worse things get.” I heaved a weary sigh and ran a hand through my wavy locks. “I’m just so tired right now, Misaki. I feel as if I’ve become so bloody numb, you know. I don’t even know what to feel.”
She gave my hand a soothing squeeze. “Careful now. You should reconsider your words. You can’t run a relationship without emotion.”
“And you can ruin a relationship with too many emotions,” I said, taking a listless bite of a pretzel.
Misaki gave a wan smile and nodded. “There might be some truth on that.”
“I told her about the drunken kiss, by the way,” I revealed out of the blue.
Misaki’s reaction was unexpectedly calm. She even smiled. “That’s what I guessed.”
Lowering my head, I started picking at my cuticles. “Is it weird?” I mumbled.
I heard her sigh. “If it isn’t weird then we wouldn’t be in this situation,” she answered. “If it isn’t weird then you wouldn’t be asking that question.”
I smiled wryly. Misaki was right. The bloody drunken hook-up, my fucked-up judgment in general, indeed generated this huge mess. It was the main reason why my friendship with Misaki got damaged and partly what added injury to my relationship with Naomi. Ever since I fessed up about our drunken kiss, I was careful about my interaction with my best friend around Naomi. Since coming clean, it hadn’t been easy being a friend to Misaki whilst in a relationship with Naomi. Well, Naomi didn’t really forbid me from seeing my best mate but I took it upon myself to stay away from Misaki as much as possible just to avoid drama or cause further strain on our relationship. I had to admit, though, it felt weird and horrible avoiding Misaki because she was one of those people I could really trust with anything and everything. I knew I should’ve dealt with things differently.
“For a while I thought you’ve walked out of my life, Emily,” Misaki continued. “You were like my invisible best friend. It was really sad but I completely understood.” Then I heard humour in her tone. “I mean, I didn’t expect us to be the Three Musketeers after your confession. I know Naomi Campbell. I’m sure she did not appreciate that a little bit.”
“You have no idea,” I said, eliciting laughter from her.
We went very silent until Misaki spoke softly. “Do you want to hear a true story?” she asked, smiling slightly.
Giving a feeble yet eager smile, I nodded my head. “Sure,” I said. “I love truth. And I love stories. So that makes a true story the bomb.”
Misaki allowed a chuckle. But then her face and tone became suddenly sober. My smile faded and my heart pounded a bit as I waited for her to speak. I suddenly felt a pang of fear, although I wasn’t quite sure why.
Misaki carefully tucked her hair and met my eyes. “When you kissed me,” she began, and I instantly winced inwardly, “I didn’t stop you. I sort of went along. I . . . I did like it. Deep down I knew I hadn’t minded the kiss at all. And I hated myself for liking it. But I did. I did miss it. I missed you. I missed us. I only knew at that moment that I needed and I wanted you there, and beyond that, I didn’t question.”
I said nothing, unsure of how to react. My throat tightened, my head swam. The air in my lungs felt as if it had been imprisoned all of a sudden.
“I did feel something,” she went on. “I wasn’t sure what to make of it. I needed to know if it was real or just an extension of what I felt for you three years ago. That’s why I had let you kiss me and myself kiss you.”
I clutched at the hem of my tangerine shorts and didn’t open my mouth, because I couldn’t trust my hands and my voice. In the silence, Misaki sighed.
“Then as the kiss went on, it suddenly hit me that you were kissing me because of something else other than deeper feelings. It was for all the wrong reasons. Maybe as a rebellion to your girlfriend. Maybe ‘cos you were just missing her at that moment. Or maybe you were just plainly drunk.” She paused, looking thoughtful for a moment. Then with a glint of humour in her eye, she said, “Then I smelled your sour breath and realised you had just vomited minutes before. That’s when I pushed you back.”
“Right,” I croaked.
Misaki laughed a little. “Kimochi warui (Gross), Emily-chan.”
I leant back, merely watching Misaki as she chuckled. My grip at my shorts relaxed a tad bit, but my head still felt as though it were spinning. Guilt churned in me.
Then as my friend’s laughter subsided I looked right into her eyes, my expression serious. “I’m sorry for making you feel that way. I’m really sorry. I didn’t intend for that to happen.”
“It was nothing,” Misaki said, forcing a bright tone. “I just took a nice, long shower to get rid of the smell.”
My serious look was unchanging. “That’s not what I meant. I’m sorry, Misaki. I really am.”
Misaki acted as if I said nothing. She raised a finger, grinning a little. “And I brushed my teeth ten times,” she added.
“Misaki,” I said, my voice low and somber.
“Like I said a million times, you don’t have to be sorry for anything. It was my fault, too. I knew what I was getting into.” She offered a tremulous smile. “I have to admit, though, I went through that ‘I’m hurt and upset’ period but I was back to normal after a few minutes.”
“Do you still hate me?” I forced out of my clogged throat.
Misaki let out an audible sigh and lay back down on the blanket. “I don’t hate anybody. I guess I was just disappointed in . . .”
“In me,” I finished for her. “You can say it, Misaki.”
“It’s not just you,” she said, staring at the sky. “I’m pretty disappointed in myself too, you know. In our relationship. How it never worked out. How we forced something that wasn’t meant to be. I hated myself for, you know, pushing it. When I started feeling the self-loathing, that’s when I realised that it was never going to work out. I felt like I was being selfish—which I totally did not intend to be.”
I felt my lips twitch. “I’ve been selfish, too. I’ve been so bloody selfish.” I picked up a fallen camellia flower on the grass and absently fiddled with the petals, feeling a severe case of guilt and shame. “And I’ve been really, really stupid. I’ve been such a cock. I should’ve known better than hurting you. I know I’ve put you and Naomi through hell. And . . . I should’ve known that hurting Naomi meant hurting myself too . . .”
I stared across the water, seeing nothing. I suddenly remembered my first Daimonji with Naomi last year. On this very same spot. The two of us cuddling and talking and laughing together under our weeping willow tree. We were so happy. I closed my eyes, tears stinging my eyelids. I suddenly missed Naomi so much. With such intensity that it was almost painful. Our whole relationship struck me as a tantalising dance, in which each of us had taken turns in leading, one pushing, the other pulling, and vice versa. I wondered if a dance like that could go on forever. I finally opened my eyes and let out a shaky sigh.
“Oh, it’s that look again,” I heard Misaki say quietly.
I turned to look at her. “What look?”
“The usual look.” She raised herself to a seated position.
“Which one?”
Misaki smiled to herself then shook her head. “It’s the look.”
I crinkled my brow, and she went on, “Back when we were dating, I’ve struggled with the thought that I could never be what you want, Emily. Whenever we’re together, I know you’re not aware of it but you’d have that certain look as if you were waiting for something. I then figured that there was a hole where Naomi used to be. And it was an emptiness I didn’t know how to fill. You’d always have this look, you know.”
To my continued silence, the pretty Japanese added, “There were so many things I didn’t know how to do,” her voice deepened with emotion, “things that Naomi made seem so easy. Little things. Like, she could get your eyes to sparkle in such an unbelievable way. She could make you giggle in such a unique way. It’s something that I could never do.”
The quiet pain in Misaki’s voice rang through like a chime. I felt a jolt of memory. I certainly knew what she was talking about. And she was accurate about all of them. Suddenly, Misaki got very busy eating pretzels again so she wouldn’t have to look at me.
I lowered my head and toyed with the pretty flower in my hand, absently tracing the outlines of its petals with my fingers. I was beyond words. Guilt was what I felt. But the feeling was so much bigger than that one, measly little syllable that uttering it would only add insult to injury.
“Okay, I’m assuming your elongated silence means I was right,” Misaki suddenly spoke.
With my head still swimming from all the feelings and realities, I looked up to hold Misaki’s gaze. “Just for the record,” I said in my most earnest tone, “what we had was real. I cared and still care about you, Misaki. I cared about us. I wouldn’t trade our time together for anything. What we had was really special.”
The corners of her mouth curled up slightly. “I know that. I believe that, Emily.”
“If it makes you feel any better,” I said, touching her knee, “your sweetness could weaken my bones in such a tremendous way. And if it makes you feel much, much better, I feel like I’m in a bed of nails sandwich with an elephant sitting on top. I never knew self-loathing could reach such dizzy heights. I’m sorry . . . I’m just—”
“It’s okay, Emily-chan.” Misaki held up her hands to stop me. “I mean, it’s all good now. But you know, looking at the two of you . . . it’s painful sometimes.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but she raised her hand. “Let me finish, okay?” She paused, collecting her thoughts. “It’s painful. Not because I want you but because I want that kind of love, too. And I’m just scared I’d never, ever find it.”
I stared down at the flower in my hands, loss for words. Misaki became quiet, too.
Suddenly Misaki’s phone buzzed. She dug her mobile out of her handbag and as she glanced down at the screen, I saw her lips slightly curve into a smile instantly.
I smiled slowly at what I just saw. “I think you’re on your way to finding it,” I commented lightly. “What was that smile all about? Tell me who’s the lucky person.” I turned to face my friend completely, grinning playfully and wiggling my eyebrows. “C’mon, who is it? Is there a girl?”
An impish smile crept across her pretty features. “Well, uhh . . . there are a couple . . .”
“Two girls?” I gasped. “How come I didn’t know about this? Oh, c’mon, details, Misaki Ueno,” I exclaimed, suddenly hating myself for sounding so nosy like Halo.
“Well, one’s named Yasmin—the model from Brazil. I told you about her already. We worked on a magazine shoot together—”
“The one who introduced you to Caipirinhas?”
“Yes. She invited me out for a drink last Friday but . . .”
“But what?” I prodded.
“She canceled.”
“She canceled?” My voice reflected my incredulity. It was a known fact that Misaki Ueno was a looker and always had people standing in the line. Lots of them. She was not the kind of girl you kept dangling.
“Another more important thing, I guess,” she said with a shrug. “She had to visit a sick friend in Tokyo.”
“Doesn’t sound like she stood you up, though,” I ventured carefully. “You know, just one of those things that happens.”
She shook her shoulders dismissively. “I don’t know. She’s not my type, anyway.”
I lifted the camellia bloom to my nose, taking a whiff of it. It smelled like Misaki’s hair. “What about the other one? Tell me about her.”
I saw her face turn a little red. “Uhm, her name’s Eri. She’s, uh, she’s actually the one who just texted me. She’s a photographer and has a studio in Osaka. I went to model for her and we just clicked.” She paused, looking thoughtful for a moment, and smiled. “She’s really lovely. A bit like you.”
“Like me?”
“Yea, she’s shy. But I think once you get to pull her out of her shell, she’s this really fun-loving, sweet, crazy awesome person.”
“That’s wonderful, Misaki. And, really, I’m happy for you,” I said enthusiastically. “So are you two going out already?”
Misaki blushed a little more. “She, uh . . . she just asked me out on a date, actually, and uhh . . .” She looked at me tentatively as if needing my go-ahead.
“Misaki, you don’t have to ask permission from me. You can go out with anyone you like as long as they’re normal, decent human beings.”
She frowned. “So I can’t date a fairy?”
For the first time all week, I gave a genuine laugh. “Humans don’t exactly mate with fairies, Misaki-chan.”
“That sucks. I used to have this fantasy of marrying Tinkerbell.”
That made me laugh again.
She shrugged. “Or who knows, maybe I’ll just grow old alone.”
I shot a startled look at her right away. ”What? No,” I exclaimed. “Misaki, that’s not your fate. Don’t think it for a second,” I said, meeting her gaze squarely. “Not someone like you. Not someone as smart and funny and kind and sweet and forgiving and patient and passionate. In other words, pretty much perfect. I seriously can’t find anything bad with you.”
“I have pretty bad eyesight.”
A short chuckle escaped me. “Seriously, though,” I said, putting an earnest hand over hers, “go out with this photographer girl and have fun.”
Misaki’s mouth curled up to one side. “Whatever happened to the advice of not getting a girlfriend ’cos it’s a massive what?”
“Headfuck,” I filled in. “Well, it still is now.”
She laughed.
From behind us, we heard Oz begin barking frantically, the sound followed by the faint rusting of claws on bark. Glancing at the weeping willow tree behind us near the hedges, I watched as a bird leapt from one branch to another. Though I couldn’t see him, I knew that Oz was circling the willow tree.
“Ozzy is really crazy about chasing birds,” I said, gesturing behind me toward the tree.
“It might be his life’s purpose,” Misaki commented with mock seriousness, and I laughed at this.
After a moment, I turned my head to shoot Misaki a thoughtful look. “What about you, Miss Ueno?” I began, squinting at her. “What do you think is your purpose in life besides hoarding Coca-Colas? Might be modeling, yea?”
“It’s a possible career, definitely. I’m still looking at other options, though.”
“You should go for it. I could totally picture you posing in Givenchy in front of the Arc de Triomphe in Paris or standing on the banks of Nile in Bob Mackie. Of course, with Naomi behind you, shouting against child labour and killing animals for fur and all that crazy stuff.”
She burst out laughing, and I joined her. “Yea, I could totally see that in the future,” she agreed.
On the other side of the river, the setting sun was changing the sky to a golden palette of colours that stretched across the horizon. I watched Misaki out of the corner of my eye, a faint smile on my lips, pleased that she was not only on the right track, but was still a part of my life. An integral part.
And I was determined not to ruin that, not to ruin us again. I fished out my phone from my brown leather shoulder bag and sent a text to my girlfriend. It was short. And a bit informative. And reassuring. But a complete lie. I just didn’t want to drag Misaki’s name into our mess. I felt a little guilty, but thought that I did the right thing. Misaki had her fill of this before; she didn’t deserve any more drama. Naomi replied right away to my text. Then we exchanged a few messages before I finally kept my phone.
“Misaki-san, Emily Sensei!” a familiar female voice called out.
We turned our heads and saw Aiko, waving her handkerchief at us, with her wimpy husband in tow who was dragging a cooler. Keisuke was trailing behind them, carrying half a bunch of paper bags.
“Oh, there they are,” Misaki said, waving back.
“Wow,” Keisuke commented, lifting an eyebrow as he walked the perimeter of our picnic site, “good that you’ve already set up the grill. I’m starving.”
“You two did all of this today?” Aiko asked, impressed.
I nodded. “It wasn’t so bad,” I said. “I think Misaki even enjoyed it. She had fun fanning.” I shot a teasing look at the girl sitting beside me, who in turn gave my arm a playful slap.
“Well done, girls,” Aiko said, certainly sounding like a head teacher. Then she moved toward a table and started emptying out the baskets she had brought.
Keisuke grinned. “Where’s Naomi?” He looked around. “Haven’t seen her in ages. I heard she’s back.”
“Yea, she’s back. But, uhm, she’s not here,” I answered a bit shakily.
“Well, what time will she be rolling in?” Keisuke asked.
“Did you bring the utensils, Kei-kun?” Misaki said, changing the subject. “How about the drinks?”
I slowly shifted my gaze to Misaki. I really loved my best friend. Saviour.
“Yep, we got everything in here. Including a checklist,” Keisuke answered, holding up the bags. He glanced briefly in Aiko’s direction. “You know Miss Aiko and her severe case of OCD,” he added in a low voice, with a scowl.
Misaki and I laughed at this. Keisuke’s eyes darted nervously from Aiko to us and back again, checking if she’d heard. I couldn’t help but notice his slick, spiky, big hairdo that swayed with his head.
“What are you people talking about?” Aiko called out suspiciously.
“Nothing,” the three of us said in unison.
“Okay,” Aiko said. “Keisuke, bring the bags over here! I need the can opener.”
Keisuke gave her a thumbs-up then turned back to us, making a face again. “All right, I better go help them set up the table.” He spun on his heel and headed toward the couple who were busy moving around a table near the grill. For a few seconds I merely stared at the Japanese guy’s odd hair—he had this weird, ultra-gelled, super-pointed, tsunami going on up there. Highly amusing.
I stretched out on the blanket and stared up at the sky again, absently tossing the camellia up and down in my hand. Dusk already gave way to darkness. The stars were twinkling and the moon was bright overhead. Misaki began lighting up tiny scented candles around us.
“But, in all seriousness,” I softly said, getting back to our topic, “I’d love to pick up a Vogue with your face on the cover.”
Pulling up her legs, Misaki hugged her knees and smiled. “Thanks. I mean, anything’s a possibility.” She lit up the final candle.
Anything’s a possibility is right, I mused. Like Naomi and I working it out. Like the two of us starting over. And it would be different this time.
Naomi. Again. I would never be without her. In the soft flickering firelight of the candles, I looked upward at the glittering stars and traced images in the skies above me. There was a cluster that resembled one of the blonde’s disarming smiles. And a couple that reminded me of that certain twinkle in her eyes. A smile curved my mouth. The pair of eyes that was fabulously blue and well fringed by soft lashes.
“Ima nani kangaeten no (What are you thinking now)?” Misaki asked quietly, glancing down at me.
“The stars,” I replied. “Naomi had an obsession with astronomy that lasted for about eight months. I’m trying to see if I can remember anything.”
“Do you?” Misaki lay back next to me on the blanket.
“Just the huge ones. The noticeable ones.” I pointed up at the sky, as Misaki snuggled closer. “Now, try to look where I’m pointing. That’s Orion’s belt—part of the constellation of Orion, which is Naomi’s favourite constellation. Betelgeuse, that massive red star, is on Orion’s left shoulder, and Rigel is the name of his foot. Just close to the tip of that hill—the bright star over there—is Sirius. And that one’s Procyon. Then over there—the backwards question mark—is part of the constellation of Leo.” I moved my finger to the right and drew an invisible circle. “Mars is somewhere in this area but I can’t make it out.”
Misaki seemed to have spotted Orion’s belt, and though she tried to follow my direction, she couldn’t pick out the others. “Hmm . . . I’m not sure I see the other ones.”
“Neither can I. I just know they’re there.”
She pointed at a certain assemblage of stars. “Are mite (Look)! I can see the Big Dipper. Achi. Right over there. That’s the only one I can always find and whose name I could properly pronounce.”
“Me, too. The Brits call it the Plough, though—even easier, right? Pleiades, Cassiopeia, Canes Venatici . . .” I murmured thoughtfully, “their names are so aromatic.”
Lost in thought, she was quiet for a long moment. “This is really nice—just staring at the night sky and letting yourself be put under its spell. It’s therapeutic, in a way,” she said quietly. “I think I’m gonna make this my new hobby from now on.”
I smiled at the sky, dreamily. “I remember when Naomi and I used to just lay on the grass. She would make me rest my head on her chest just so I could hear the steady breathing of her heart. Then she’d talk about stars.” I pulled absently at some grass, as if reaching for memories. “She was really brilliant, you know. I couldn’t shake the memory of the way her eyes would always crinkle when she smiles or the awe in her voice as she would name the stars.”
Misaki rolled over to look at me, a smile on her moonlit face. “The awe in your voice as you talk about Naomi is pretty hard to miss, too.”
I smiled back, a bit embarrassed about how whipped I truly was. “I like that about her. I like it a lot. Aside from pretty much everything.”
Misaki sat up and wrapped her summer scarf around her neck. “Naomi’s a really lucky girl.”
“Thanks.” I paused, and I could see her perfectly shiny black hair and loose floral top moving slightly in the cool night wind. “How I hope she knows that.”
“I bet she does,” she said. “There’s something seriously wrong with her if she doesn’t.”
“Thanks. You’re really sweet, Misaki,” I said, sitting up. “You totally just made my day. Although, I have to say, you were terribly pushy today.”
“You need someone to be pushy with you, Emily,” Misaki said. “Sometimes you could be incredibly stubborn, you know.”
“I guess you’re right,” I said, smiling at this realisation. Hugging my arms tightly around me, I found myself studying my friend. I was certain now what pulled me in about Misaki three years ago and kept me fascinated up till now. It wasn’t simply that she was pretty. There was something about her straightforward intelligence and unforced humour that suggested a grounded sense of right and wrong. Beauty and earthy common sense were a rare combination, yet I doubted she was even aware she possessed it.
I glanced down at the camellia blossom in my hand then tucked the flower over Misaki’s ear. “Here. An impossibly beautiful flower for an impossibly beautiful lady.”
Misaki let out a soft chuckle. “Thanks.” She leant in to give me a quick kiss on the cheek. “You really know how to make a girl giggle, huh?”
“I know girls, and I have my charms,” I joked, my eyes glittering with mischief. “And I’m awesome.”
From his spot next to the grill, Oz barked as if in agreement, and I smiled smugly. “See?” I gestured toward the Westie. “Even Oz agrees!”
Misaki gave a rich laugh, which I thought sounded lovely. Oz trotted toward us, wiggling his tail, obviously stuffed from all those burgers and wieners Keisuke had been feeding him. Misaki knelt down on the blanket and lightly snapped her fingers. “Aren’t you a good boy,” she said in a sweet voice. The Westie toddled toward her, nuzzling Misaki in her lap.
“He’s really into you,” I remarked, enjoying the sight of the two.
“He’s a real trouper. We’ve been getting along great,” Misaki said, stroking the dog’s white fur. “I just love him to bits.”
“Misaki! Emily!” Keisuke called with a wave. “Jessica just texted—she and Kenji will be here in half an hour! You want to toss something on the grill?”
“No, we’re good!” I shouted back. Then I turned back to Misaki, stretching my arms overhead. “I guess I should be going. I don’t want to end up in the hot seat. More people, more questions, more problems, if you know what I mean.” I grimaced then slipped my feet into my brown strappy leather flat sandals.
Automatically Misaki stood and offered a hand. “You sure you’re not hungry? Not even a bite of my chicken wings?”
I took her hand and she pulled me up. “Rain check?”
Misaki smiled and nodded. “Okay,” she said. “But at least let me walk you to your bus stop.”
I smiled gratefully, straightening my shorts. “Why, thank you, Miss Ueno. How very courteous of you.” I reached down for my leather bag and flung it over my shoulder, and we sauntered over to our friends, Oz trotting happily by our side.
Over at the portable grill, Aiko’s husband was wielding a pair of tongs. Aiko was lining up bags of potato chips, crackers, and bread, and opening Tupperware containers on a small fold-up table, while Keisuke was setting out condiments along with paper plates and plastic utensils.
“You girls want beer?” Keisuke reached into the cooler and pulled out a can of Asahi.
“No, thanks,” I replied, shifting my bag to the other shoulder. “I’ve got to bounce.”
Keisuke’s brows rose in surprise. “What? Now? But why, Emily-chan?” He frowned. “You’re gonna miss the bonfire! And Jess and Kenji are on their way here already! Marina, Megumi, and Nacho will be joining us later, too!”
“I know, I know. But I, uh, I gotta take care of some stuff tonight. Really important stuff,” I said apologetically. “Do enjoy the barbecue and the bonfire for me, though, okay?”
“Oh, okay,” Keisuke said with a disappointed sigh. “But you’re letting my little buddy stay here, right?” He motioned toward the hyperactive Westie licking his boot.
I nodded. “Yes. Oz is all yours for the night.”
Keisuke beamed then. “Awesome!” He scooped the dog in his arms right away and petted him.
I moved toward the busy couple and exchanged goodbyes. It took me about five minutes to escape from Aiko’s prying questions and uninteresting shoptalk. I really hated this woman sometimes.
Finally, Misaki and I were off. Oz trotted up to us just as we started down the riverbank, his tongue flapping happily. We marched through the grass, the dew moistened the tips of my toes through my sandals and the moonlight reflected on the grass like silver trails. “God, it’s really cold for a summer night, huh?” I said, hugging myself then rubbing at my arms.
Misaki removed the light purple scarf from around her neck. “Here. You can have my scarf.”
“No, it’s okay.”
“Take it,” she urged.
Smirking, I cocked a brow. “Pushy, huh.”
Misaki grinned. “Only with you.” She wrapped the scarf round my neck.
As we walked down the bank, I cast a sideways glance at Misaki and thought about how I could repay her somehow. She definitely deserved something. “I was gonna ask if maybe you want to get more Coke? My treat,” I told her.
Misaki shook her head. “No, it’s okay.”
“The convenience store is just across the bridge so it’s not much of a hassle. We can quickly grab a six-pack.”
She smiled. “Really, it’s okay, Emily-chan. Thanks for the offer. But . . . Naomi’s been looking for you all day and you wouldn’t want her to worry anymore. I feel like a villain right now, you know.”
I looked down at the grass underneath as we went on meandering. “Right.”
“And you two need to fix some things. Right away.”
I smiled weakly at the thought. “Right,” I said, not sure an answer was even needed. Oz circled us before charging toward the water, as if making sure nothing was hiding. He came to a stop with front paws slapping, then charged off in another direction.
“Oz is a dog with infinite curiosity and enthusiasm. Aggressive, a bit vicious at times, reckless and rebellious,” Misaki observed. “Kind of like Naomi, yea?”
“Kind of,” I agreed. “Except that I don’t think I can hide behind a tree and make out with him.” I made a face, and the pretty Japanese girl laughed at this.
We trudged on along the riverbank, weaved our way between some bushes, toward a winding incline made of stone steps at the base of Sanjo Bridge that leads up to the top. It looked like a treacherous climb from down here.
“Kyou wa totemo tanoshikatta (I had a really awesome time today), Emily-chan,” Misaki said, smiling her sweet smile, when we reached the steps.
“Me, too.” I returned the smile. “Awesome. And revealing.”
“Although I got a bit upset when you said I can’t date fairies,” she said, making a sad face.
That made me laugh. “If it makes you feel better,” I said, “you’re unbelievably gorgeous. A girl like you, with a sexy body, long shiny straight black hair, and pretty face walks by, and every man in a twenty-mile radius is reduced to senseless drooling.” I grinned.
“But not as pretty as Naomi.” She smirked.
I stared at her in disbelief. “God, you’re, like, one of the most beautiful people ever born to this world and yet you have all the self-confidence of an envelope.”
“And still not as pretty as Naomi,” she repeated.
“Well, Naomi’s probably a couple of pretty points higher than you. But that’s only because she has—”
“Blond hair.”
I nodded. “Yes, and—”
“She knows about stars.”
“Exactly.” And we both laughed.
Misaki’s arms suddenly went around me in a comforting hug. “I really hope you sort things out with Naomi. I can’t stomach seeing you this unhappy.”
I was shocked at how fiercely I responded, how desperately I needed a hug and reassurance. I hugged her back and closed my eyes, enjoying the warmth. Misaki was truly an incredible friend. I loved the way she treated me and I loved the fact that she knew what to do to me every single time. I’d always been comfortable in her presence. And whether she did this simply out of pity or out of the goodness of her too-kind heart didn’t matter because I seriously needed her right now. My arms tightened around her.
If it hadn’t been for Misaki . . .
I wasn’t sure where I’d be right now. Or whether I’d be half as sane as I was right now.
When she leant back and met my gaze, she gave me a certain look—the one she would always give me during a goodbye hug. And I couldn’t deny that I loved that look—gazing at me so long it seems like she’s studying me, trying to memorise all of me before we part ways.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I told her self-consciously, voicing my exact thoughts.
Her brows furrowed in puzzlement. “Like what?”
“Like I’m about to fall apart.”
Misaki stared down at me for a while before nodding. “Okay. All right,” she said with a smile, releasing me. Then she turned away and started up the pile of boulders. She reached down for my hands. “Need assistance?”
I rolled my eyes at her flippantly. “Very funny.”
She shrugged. “Just being a concerned citizen.”
I held up a hand. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m sure I can manage.”
Suppressing laughter, I started climbing up the stone steps and as luck would have it, while I was teetering almost midway, my foot slipped behind me and I stumbled, falling on my butt on the grass below. I grasped for a boulder when I saw Misaki rushing down. I struggled to stand up, my butt throbbing a little. Wow, I thought. I really have useless limbs.
Misaki squatted beside me, her expression half-concerned, half-amused. “Oh, my gosh. Are you okay, Emily-chan?” she asked, placing her hand on my arm, helping me up.
“Yea, yea.” Steadying myself, I took a couple of deep breaths. “I’m okay. Thanks.”
“Speaking of . . .” she started.
I rolled my eyes again. “Oh, shut up.” I laughed and blushed in embarrassment.
When we finally reached the sidewalk of the bridge, I saw Misaki struggling to hold back laughter. She was going to open her mouth when I cut her off.
“Shut up,” I repeated, giving her a look of mock warning. “Don’t start laughing.”
“I’m not going to.” She bit her lip, trying to control her laughter.
I broke to a grin. “Okay. You can laugh now.” I started giggling, and she laughed with me.
Still chuckling, Misaki took my wrist and pulled me to her. “Come here, my little baby Emily.” Her one arm reached around me and held me close against her, the other cradled my head on her shoulder. “You are just the cutest thing in this world. You remind me of the toddlers I saw in Yuka’s preschool who struggled to stay balanced and remain upright.”
Her words filtered in slowly, and I furrowed my brow when they finally registered.
I drew back and met her gaze. “Is that an insult?”
“I tried.” She was smiling to herself, enjoying teasing me as usual. I laughed at this.
Then Misaki reached out and gently cupped my face with her hands. She looked me in the eye. “So you know where to go from here, right?”
I chewed my lower lip. “No,” I admitted. “Not yet.”
“You’re just torturing both of you by prolonging this, you know.”
I lowered my gaze ‘cos I knew she was right. “I know.”
“So you’re gonna go home and stay and patch things up with Naomi. Please tell me you’ll find a way to work it out no matter what.”
“I’ll know when I get there.”
Gazing at me, she accepted that. “Okay. I’ll tell you what,” she said, giving my cheeks a loving little pinch. “I’ll let you think about it some more. That bus ride back to your dorm should do. Think about your words and actions before facing Naomi, okay? I just don’t want you making a mistake, Emily.”
I smiled at that, though feebly, genuinely touched by her concern. With her hands cupping my face, I felt the tension seep out of me. I pulled her into my arms, giving her a tight embrace. “I love you, Misaki-chan,” I murmured into her shoulder. “You’re like the bestest best friend in the universe.”
“I love you, too, Emily-chan,” she returned sweetly. When I released her, she held my face again and gave my cheeks a few affectionate pats. “And you know I’m here for you, right?”
I nodded, smiling thankfully. “I know.”
She looked down at me very intently. “Always. Anytime.”
“I know.”
Staring at me, Misaki finally nodded. “I’ll just wait for your news, okay? I want to know how it went with Naomi.”
I nodded, completely amused by her uncharacteristic assertiveness today. “Okay, ma’am.”
Misaki kissed me on top of my head. “And we all know you’re an awesome, charming young woman with a shining personality, Emily. But please take the bragging down a notch. Just a little.” She grinned down at me. “I still love you, though.”
I laughed at this and she pulled me in for another bear hug. Again her hug felt so good and I was ready to tell her so when I caught sight of something and my heart suddenly leapt into my throat, blocking the words. Abruptly I pulled away from Misaki’s arms. “Oh, shit.”
A taxi was pulling nearby, carrying a familiar blonde. And good God, she was ready to bring hell to earth.
“Naomi!” I yelled. “Listen to me! Just listen!”
I slumped back against the lamp post silently for a moment, feeling as if my legs were about to give way. “Shit,” I berated myself under my breath, my voice trembling along with my body, “I am really in the shit. Fuck.”
Then Misaki’s face took on a faraway look, and for several minutes she was silent. I sensed she was holding something back. At one point it appeared as if she was not going to confide, but at the last moment, Misaki seemed to change her mind. Finally she straightened up, shyly glanced up at the stars, and spoke. “There’s just this thing. I don’t know. I find it really extraordinary . . .” Her voice was quiet, confidential.
I walked and walked. A bit aimlessly. But I couldn’t care less. I had nothing else in mind except to get away from the people, from the hopelessness and bitterness I had been feeling. I walked away from the laughter and the talk, away from the lovey-dovey couples strolling along the esplanades and banks of Kamo River, away from the blare of amplified music from the electronic gadget stores and the bright blur of neon signs toward the quieter streets where there were no pubs or ramen shops or all-night service stations, no arcade centres or Pachinko houses or convenience stores; quieter streets lined with trees where the buildings housed beauty salons and dentists, small businesses that closed up at nightfall. I chose one half-deserted street and walked on.
My phone vibrated. I knew who was calling. I ignored it. It kept buzzing. And buzzing. Still, I ignored it. I didn’t know how to react yet. And I didn’t want to be found. I needed this time alone to hold myself and sort out my feelings. If I did answer now, I would probably just explode on her. And I didn’t want that.
Whoever said walking was good for your health needed to be shot, I thought as I headed back down to the main street from Misaki’s place. I had been walking for what seemed like an entire night all in all. Now my feet were callused, and I was pretty damned sure my legs were going to break right off and tumble into a ditch.
“She still loves me. She loves me not. She still loves me. She loves me not . . .”
One by one the blue rose petals fell from my fingertips onto the polished cherry floor. It was my idea to sprinkle the room with flowers. Emily loved the smell and the sight of them.
“What the fuck is this?” I muttered through
clenched teeth.
The taxi stopped in front of Family Mart
just at the northwest end of Sanjo Bridge. I hurriedly gave the driver some
bills and jumped out of the car, feeling like I could burst right out of my
skin.
On the way to Kamo River I’d imagined
exactly what I would say in case I indeed spot Emily and Misaki together.
“You’ll never believe what Toshi told
me, you two . . .”
And then I would wait for the redhead’s
reaction. I was prepared for her to laugh. I was prepared for her to cry. I was
prepared for her to get angry and throw something.
However, I was not prepared to find her giggling and
sharing an intimate hug with a pretty girl by the name of Misaki. With Misaki
Ueno. The old fucking flame. The goddamn barnacle.
I slammed the door as hard as I could,
announcing my arrival to the two giggly cuddling girls, who hadn’t noticed me
yet. Then I saw the redhead let go quickly upon catching a glimpse of me. Misaki
glanced over, seemingly surprised. But Emily . . . it tore my heart to see the
guilty, panicked expression on her face. My worst fears were immediately
confirmed.
“Naomi!” Emily shouted as I crossed the bridge
toward them. “It’s not what you think. Don't do anything stupid, please.”
But her words bounced off me like tennis
balls. I couldn’t listen. I couldn’t even think. All I could do was react.
My fists clenched, my jaw set, and blood
pounded through my veins like the beat on a battle drum. No way was I going to
let Misaki take my Emily away again. I could feel my pulse accelerate as I got closer.
No fucking way.
“Naomi!” I yelled. “Listen to me! Just listen!”
I stepped in front of Naomi and held up my hands, my entire body trembling with fear—something I’d thought I would never feel after that Clash of the Titans scene with Zoe Hammond a long time ago. But then again, I’d never seen my girlfriend look this way before. The blonde’s eyes were dark, and a purple-blue vein throbbed down the middle of her forehead. But it was the way she stalked toward us, as if she were an unfeeling mechanism programmed toward a target, that struck me as truly eerie.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” I repeated desperately. “It’s not what you think. I swear, I—”
“What the hell is going on, Emily?” Naomi hissed.
I shuddered as Naomi’s tone cut through the still evening air like a knife. Oh, fuck. The winds of war were turning again.
“Naomi, please. Calm down,” I begged.
“Calm down?” the blonde snarled. “How can I calm down when I feel as if my heart had been run over by a fucking freight train?”
Misaki stepped in at once and implored, “Naomi-chan, kikinasai (please listen)—”
“Don’t you dare speak,” Naomi cut her off in a scathing tone. “This is a conversation between me and my girlfriend.”
“Don’t talk to Misaki like that,” I said, clenching my fists. There was no way I was going to allow Naomi to treat Misaki like one of her target boards during a rage of fury.
Misaki took another step forward and raised her hands as if trying to pacify the blonde. “Naomi, please. Can we talk about this in a—”
Turning sharply toward Misaki, Naomi strode forward like a bottle rocket on fire. “You told me you didn’t see Emily anywhere. I asked you, didn’t I? Sou itta desho?”
Misaki’s lips trembled. “Yes, but . . .”
“But what?”
Misaki briefly met her eyes and then glanced away.
“But what?” Naomi repeated, more loudly. A nearby group of Japanese people turned to stare at the scene we had created.
“Emily told me not to tell you,” Misaki admitted in a quiet, tremulous voice.
“Well, that’s pretty fucking sneaky,” Naomi said with a contemptuous snort.
I took a deep breath, trying to preserve the last tiny drops of patience I still had. “Naomi, will you just stop it? Nothing is going on, okay?”
Naomi’s vehement blue eyes returned to pierce me. “Why wouldn’t you just say you were with Misaki? Why lie and say you stayed with Megumi? Why did you have to fucking lie to me, Emily?”
The way my girlfriend eyed me was so bloody intimidating I couldn’t stand it. I lowered my gaze and stammered, “I – I just . . . it wasn’t . . .”
“You just didn’t want me to be suspicious?”
“Suspicious of what?” I grated right back defensively.
“You tell me. If you say suspicious, probably there’s a reason.”
I felt my jaw grow tight. “There’s no reason, okay?”
“Then why cover?”
I could feel my temper flare. “I just didn’t think saying such things would help in fixing anything!”
Oz suddenly appeared on the sidewalk with a bone clutched between his teeth, and when he saw our angry faces, his eyes widened in alarm as if he could understand what was going on. Poor Oz, I thought, he didn’t need to see this drama.
Naomi’s jaw hardened. “I was right,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “You just didn’t want me to go ballistic over the fact that you’re messing around behind my back.”
“I’m not!” I hissed, outraged. “The fuck, Naomi?”
“She’s your ex-girlfriend,” the blonde pointed out, gesturing toward Misaki. “And it’s not exactly news that she’s still in love with you!”
Thud. The bone was dropped from Oz’s mouth, and the Westie ran off toward a nearby tree and hid behind the trunk, his legs shaking in fear.
I bit down on my lip to keep me from crying out in frustration. It was useless to argue with Naomi when she’s in a jealous rage. “I’m not doing this with you,” I said quietly. “Fuck’s sake, Naomi, if you could just act like a normal adult. If we could just talk for a while without—”
“I don’t have time for your bullshit, Emily,” Naomi interrupted. “You want to talk it out with a sensible adult or whatever, call a psychologist. I don’t need to hear more rubbish stories from you. You can save your lies for somebody else.”
I turned my head away, not wanting to listen, to say something back, to give Naomi more ammo. I was afraid if I said anything, I wouldn’t be able to stop. Tears stung at my eyes but I refused to shed them.
Suddenly Naomi’s head whipped to the pretty Japanese, her face a picture of plain anger. Holy hell, was the blonde truly expert at being jealous. “And you Misaki . . . I don’t get you. I thought you didn’t want her anymore.”
Misaki shook her head despairingly. “I don’t. Naomi, please, I—”
But the blonde wasn’t done. “Why is it taking so long for you to move on? Everyone knows you could get pretty much anyone you like yet you’re still fucking throwing yourself at my girlfriend’s feet.”
“Naomi, I really don’t think you should be talking to Misaki like this,” I said with quiet menace. But Naomi only ignored me and seethed on.
The blonde’s blue eyes blazed with hurt and anger as she looked at the shaken Japanese girl. “Why, Misaki? Why couldn’t you just leave us alone and find yourself another girl? Why did you have to choose Emily—my Emily? Why?”
Misaki shook her head helplessly. “No, no. Chigau wa yo (You’re mistaken). That was never the case. That’s not—that’s not what—”
“And while I was gone, what did you do?” Naomi’s rage burst out, a tornado of words that couldn’t be stopped. “You just kept close to her. You knew when Emily was in her weakest and you took advantage of that! You knew I wasn’t there to keep tabs on my girlfriend so you go creeping while I was away! Groveling at its finest. How fucking pathetic!”
“Naomi, that’s enough.” I could feel my eyes begin to fill. I was already infuriated—very infuriated.
Misaki’s lips trembled before she pressed them together, clearly frustrated. She didn’t choose to argue against the ferocious blonde.
“You pretended to be our friend. Especially Emily’s nice, caring, perfect friend, but you were always stirring up trouble! I should’ve known,” Naomi sneered on. “And I’m sure you enjoy spending time with Emily and being wooed by her and all. She’s really sweet and charming, isn’t she? I bet you loved that flower in your hair.” With lips that were curved up nastily, she gestured derisively toward the camellia that was tucked in her ear. “What a classic Emily Fitch move, huh,” she scoffed with what breath was left of her.
My skin prickled. This was it. I jumped to my friend’s aid. “Naomi, will you please fucking stop this? This isn’t funny anymore!” I burst out angrily, but the blonde was on a roll—a fucking scary She-Kraken roll. She went back to targeting me.
“And Emily, she’s always been your dreamboat, hasn’t she, babe?” she sneered. “I don’t think you realised how often you dropped her name. ‘Misaki this,’ and ‘Misaki that—’”
“Stop it, Naomi,” Misaki practically shouted, her eyes narrow wells of anger. “Would you just hear me out?” She moved close to Naomi, almost invading her space, to make the blonde look at her.
Naomi stopped, and she and I both looked at the Japanese girl in stunned surprise. No one had ever heard Misaki Ueno raise her voice before. The anger in her eyes had my heart jumping to my throat. In all the time I’d known her, I’d never, ever seen her so close to the edge. Ever.
Misaki’s eyes held Naomi’s, now pleading and weary. “Chotto kiite (Listen to me), Naomi. Listen to me, please,” she implored. “Just hear what I’m trying to tell you.”
Naomi stared at the wounded Japanese girl in front of her, her chest heaving with heavy breaths.
Misaki let out a long, tired breath before continuing, “You can turn the world upside down, Naomi, and time after time it’s you who Emily’s going to choose. Can’t you understand that?” Tears welled up in her anguished eyes. “Sonna koto mo mada wakattenaino? Didn’t you realise that yet?”
That did it. Suddenly, Naomi seemed to snap out of her trance. Instead of glowering at Misaki she shifted her gaze to me, her eyes more guilty than murderous.
“Didn’t you realise that yet, Naomi-chan?” Misaki repeated wearily. “When Emily and I were together, she tried to forget you. I gave her time. But I don’t know,” she gave a little shrug, “maybe you’re just permanently inked on her heart or something. Every time I was with her, I could just see it. She couldn’t stop wanting you. It became obvious I could never fill that particular gap in her life,” she said, her voice slightly cracking with buried hurt. “Don’t you know that, Naomi? Yes, I won’t deny that I wanted Emily and I could’ve fought for her. And, boy, if I could just keep her to myself. But I knew I shouldn’t . . . and I didn’t, because that would be selfish and unfair to Emily. It was obvious she was suffering in my arms. You know why?” she paused, a tiny tear trickled down her cheek. “Because her heart always belonged to you, Naomi. Emily’s heart would always belong to you, whether you wanted her or not. Whether I wanted her or not. Don’t you get it yet?” she said again, and this time tears were falling down her pretty face. I was shocked. I had never, ever seen her so distressed too. Christ, it wrung my heart.
No one spoke a word afterward, and in the long, empty silence that followed, I felt an ache like a physical pain in my heart. Like a knife was revolving slowly in my heart.
Misaki moved to a dark spot under the shade of a cherry tree and leant back against the trunk, her eyes shut. Silent tears left small tracks down her cheeks. She looked just as tired as Naomi and me. We were all slipping.
Naomi and I stood there in front of each other for a long moment in silence, the only sounds the slow flowing of the river and the restless wind rustling the trees. I felt cold again. I looked at the blonde. Her beautiful face was immobile in the moonlight. But just then I saw something glisten on her cheek.
“Fucking hell, Naomi,” I said quietly. “I don’t know what else I can tell you, other than I can imagine spending the rest of my life with you.”
“I know.” Her voice broke on a sob of regret.
“I don’t think I can lose you, Naomes. I can’t imagine waking up without your pancakes in the morning. I can’t imagine just lying under a willow tree without you next to me. I can’t imagine getting shipwrecked to some island without you. And right now,” I paused, the tears I held back finally burst past my control and slid down my face. “I can’t imagine being in love with someone else. I thought you already know that.”
“I know,” she croaked. Hot tears filled her eyes. “I know that, Emily.”
I moved toward the railing of the bridge and leant against it. “It’s just that you always make me feel unsure, Naomi. And you let me feel unsure,” I said, the words coming out in a gush of past hurts, a flood so long held back, it seemed to pour out of me, unstoppable. “It’s always been like this with you, babe. First with your ‘I can’t tell you where you stand’ claim, then with David coming over and you still not making a decision where you want to put me, then with that Cold War that involved Zoe. All those times I felt like I was going to lose you any moment. I hate feeling that way, Naomi. I hate it. For once, I just want to feel like . . . I don’t know,” I gave a shrug, “Like I wasn’t the only one pushing, you know. Like I need you to work with me and seal the deal. I guess I just need some assurance or something. And you never gave me that.”
Lips trembling, Naomi lowered her head. “I’m sorry, Em. I know I’ve taken you for granted, and I’ve been unfair. I’m really sorry.” The tears in her eyes multiplied.
“Yea, me too,” I replied, my voice barely a whisper.
Naomi slumped against a lamp post just next to me. “What the hell do we do now, Ems?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” I said quietly, with tears filling my eyes. “I don’t know anything anymore. And I’m tired of beating my head against it.”
For a moment no one said anything. She watched me as I twisted the toe of my flat sandal against the ground. For some reason, I suddenly felt incredibly tired. “How did we become strangers, Naomi?” I asked, the words slipping from me in a tight, sad whisper.
“I’m not sure,” she answered just as miserably. “I think we just lost each other, and I . . . I went off seeking something else to fill that void. I thought it was my job, the organisation . . .”
“And I thought it was . . . another person for a second,” I added, my voice hoarse.
Naomi’s lip twitched. “Exactly.”
Oz walked over to us with a sad twinkle in his eyes. It was as if he could really understand what was happening. He moved toward me, stroked my leg with his furry head, and made a soft wailing sound.
“I thought . . .” Naomi bit her lip, then tried again. “I thought things would be better when I came here,” she said in a thick voice. “I thought they could go back to being the same. But . . .”
“It’s not,” I finished for her.
She straightened up then moved close to me by the railing. “I got confused, Ems. I went through a confusion I didn’t want to inform you about because I was scared it would rattle you. I hid that particular chaotic corner of my life from you. I stayed away too long. It’s all my fault—I left you, I became closed-off. And after a while it just got easier to stay away than to try and fix all that had gone wrong between us.”
I wrapped my arms around me, but it was impossible to get anywhere close to comfortable. You can imagine a bonfire being lit up next to you as you wanted. It didn’t change the fact that my face was wet with tears and my fingers were numb. “You didn’t want poor little Emily Fitch to face anything that might upset her? Well, I heard that line before,” I said in a weary tone. “I just don’t think that keeping the truth from me is different from lying. It’s just as bad. I used to have this idea that I wouldn’t be in a relationship that isn’t open and honest . . .”
Naomi shut her eyes and took a deep breath, and I prepared myself for the words. “You want honest? That’s fine,” she said. “I’ll do anything and everything in my power to protect you, Emily.”
“Yes, but love and relationship isn’t about just making sure the person is latched on to you, babe, you have to ensure your other half is happy too. It tore up my heart to know . . . that I was being shut out by the person who was supposed to love me more than anyone else.”
I stayed very still against the railing, but it was a relaxed sort of stillness, I thought. Our eyes locked, and a visual caress passed between us. “I love you,” Naomi told me. “That’s the only thing I know right now.”
I turned around, held onto the railing, and eyed the flowing river underneath. “There’s all sorts of love,” I said quietly. “Are we going to have to hit a lot of bumpy roads and keep on going around in circles before I find out what kind of love we’re talking about?”
Naomi followed my gaze to the rushing water of the river. “I don’t know. I don’t know the answer to that, Ems.” She bit her lip, and the two of us stood there together against the railing without speaking, like two people who’d run out of things to talk about.
I lifted my head and gazed at Naomi for a few seconds, then straightened up and started to walk, heading up the bridge. I heard Oz bark after me.
“Ems?” Naomi’s tone rang with alarm and confusion. “You’re walking out on me again?”
I half turned. “Yea, I don’t know—maybe I’m still mad. It’s the residual effect when the person I love cuts me in half.”
The blonde’s blue eyes mirrored distraught. “I’m sorry, Emily. I know that doesn’t even begin to make up for me being a dick, for everything I’ve put you through . . .” she said, hoping for any glimpse of forgiveness from me. But I just turned on my heel and started up the bridge again.
“What does this mean, Emily?” Naomi called, the words scraping by her throat.
I stopped again, feeling almost helpless. I lifted my tear-streaked face to her. “I don’t know, Naomi. But I’ll get back to you as soon as I’ve figured it out for myself.”
I slumped back against the lamp post silently for a moment, feeling as if my legs were about to give way. “Shit,” I berated myself under my breath, my voice trembling along with my body, “I am really in the shit. Fuck.”
I wrapped my arms around myself. Jesus. What have I done? Steadying myself against the lamp post, I watched as Emily headed up the bridge then down the busy street.
My instinct told me to follow my girlfriend. I pushed myself up and with each wobbly step I took toward her, I suddenly became aware of the distance we had put between us and how this hugely added to our disintegration. I stopped walking, Emily’s image blurring as hot tears filled my eyes again. The complete anguish behind the redhead’s eyes before she turned and walked away made her seem almost broken and hopeless. I would have much preferred the scary, angry face to the one she wore just now.
In a moment of sheer panic I considered running after Emily again—begging for her to stay so we could start over. But I held back. I knew there was nothing I could do right now other than wait for Emily to come back with an announcement or something that would give conclusion to all this madness.
I took a deep breath despite my swelling throat and trembling lips as Emily paused at a pedestrian stop sign, her beautiful red hair and yellow top shone bright under the streetlights. Then she crossed the road a bit farther down, turned and disappeared around the corner.
As soon as she was out of sight, a fierce pain grabbed hold of me. I doubled over, sobbing uncontrollably, my unsteady knees making me crash down on the curb. Painful cries rocked my body. Coldness seized me. I’d left my heart out there with Emily. I sank there on the sidewalk and the tears were rivers pouring from my eyes. An ache worse than any I had ever felt before broke down the doors into my mind, body and soul.
It raged through me, and left me there sobbing. Numbness taking me over to the core of my soul. Emily was so close, but so far away. My legs could so easily run after her. But the agony had stripped me of my strength.
Suddenly I felt soft arms coming around me, giving me undeserved warmth. They were Misaki’s. I stayed stiff for a moment, then let go, dissolving into a puddle of tears on her shoulder. I clutched at her back, buried my head into her shoulder, and cried some more. The Japanese girl sat there next to me on the cold cement for several minutes, hugging me tightly until I grew calm again.
Finally I lifted my head and wiped my eyes with my hands, apparently realising the people meandering along and those in their cars driving past me and Misaki over the bridge were staring at us. I resettled myself on the curb, my back stiff and straight, then swiped away the eyeliner tracks with the back of one hand. “That’s the first time in weeks that I’ve really let my feelings out,” I confessed. “I think a good cry was just what I needed.”
Misaki placed her floral bag on her lap, then folded her hands over the clasp. “Well, my diagnosis is that you should probably do it more often, Naomi-chan,” she told me softly with a sympathetic smile.
I wiped my eyes and nose on my arms, snuffling and pathetic. Noticing that I was a mess, Misaki pulled tissues out of the pocket of her bag and handed them to me. I managed to offer a grateful smile then blew my nose. Keeping my head down, I studied my beaded sandals and went on wiping my eyes and nose. I still wasn’t strong or nervy enough to look Misaki in the eye.
“Where do you think she’s going?” Misaki asked, looking worriedly over at the corner where Emily just disappeared into.
“To nurse the wounds I just inflicted,” I answered wryly, sniffling. A thick silence fell over us and I took that chance to dig my phone out of my purse and ring Emily’s mobile. I just wanted to know where my girlfriend’s really headed. I waited. Five rings . . . six rings . . . Still, she wasn’t picking up. I let it ring a few more times until I reached her voicemail. I hung up and tried calling again. No answer but her customised voicemail greeting. Then I dropped my head in my hands. “Shit. Shit, shit, shit,” I muttered my annoyance with myself. Then I finally forced myself to look up at Misaki. “Do you think I screwed it up?”
Letting out a little sigh, Misaki took the camellia off her hair then ran her fingers through her shiny, dark locks. “Honestly? You did. A little bit,” she answered truthfully. After carefully keeping the flower in her bag, her dark brown eyes met mine. “She wasn’t asking for two or three or more of you, Naomi. Emily just wanted you. She just needed her girlfriend.” Then humour sounded in her tone. “You know Emily. She’s like a China doll. Frail and vulnerable.”
I let a soft chuckle loose from my throat at the thought and nodded. “She can barely take care of herself, yes,” I said pensively, glancing down at the wallpaper image of Emily on my iPhone screen. God, I had a really stunning girlfriend.
Misaki leant forward, elbow propped on knee, chin propped on knuckles, and she smiled her agreement. “She would always say she isn’t helpless and she doesn’t need to be protected, but in actual fact, Emily’s just a—”
“—baby,” I said with her, and we both chuckled.
She smiled to herself and nodded. “Yes, and she’s just so—”
“—tiny,” we said in unison again, eliciting chuckles from us, slightly easing the tension between us.
Misaki nodded once more. “Yea, Emily’s such a little baby. You just have to handle her with care.”
“Just needs to be nannied all the time,” I put in, crumpling the mutilated wad of tissues into a ball. “She feeds the saviour complex in me.”
Slinging her bag over her shoulder, Misaki suddenly got up. “You mean, in everyone,” she corrected, dusting off her denim cut-offs. “Around Emily Fitch, don’t we all get to be superheroes?”
Hugging my knees to my chest, I chewed on my lip and considered that for a long second. Oz trotted over to me and began to nuzzle me. I returned my phone into my purse and started rubbing Oz’s neck.
“When you really think about it,” I reflected, running my hand rhythmically through the dog’s fur, “that does make sense. Why her mum’s so over-protective of her . . . Why Katie’s the one fighting her battles . . . Why her friends spoil her . . . Why we both wanted to take care of her . . .”
Misaki tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, shifting from one foot to another. She certainly looked uncomfortable and tense. “That redhead has some magic to bring it out of anybody,” she agreed. Then she stepped onto the pavement and moved toward the bridge railing. Surprising me, Oz left my side to go to Misaki, where she took over the petting and whispering, leaving me feeling like an outsider.
For a few moments, I simply watched the two over my shoulder and briefly reflected on the things I had taken for granted for a while. When I left, it wasn’t just Emily that I had abandoned, I had forsaken Oz too. Misaki scooped the dog up and they both gazed over the railing at the river and the banks that were beginning to get crowded with people now. Oz gave her cheek a couple of licks to which Misaki giggled.
“He’s taken a liking to you,” I remarked lightly, shoving the roll of tissues into one pocket of my vintage denim shorts. “What did you bribe him with?”
Misaki looked behind her at me and laughed at my comment. The pretty Japanese girl could have been angry at me, but I guess she was just too tired to worry on hating anyone anymore. Or maybe she’s just back to being the usual too kind, too cool, too classy Misaki Ueno. “We get along fine when his tummy is happy. I think it was the chorizo I gave him this morning,” she said, scratching Oz’s neck. “Chorizo is the way to Oz’s heart.”
I couldn’t suppress a smile. Somehow it warmed my heart to know that someone else cared about my interests and willingly looked after them. Just then my mind wandered back to the nightmarish scene just minutes ago. I dropped my gaze to the ground. Guilt and shame made my stomach churn. Misaki’s sudden outburst of feelings sent a needle through my heart. The power of her words crippled me. But that wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t acted like an out-of-control malicious monster in the first place. I was to blame. Words just slipped out of my mouth, aiming to wound, to cut through. How could I be so fucking insensitive to her and Emily’s feelings? How could I have blurted such venomous words to two people I really cared about? I felt a new spray of torturous guilt, wishing I had thought twice before opening my big fucking mouth.
“Naomi?” Misaki suddenly called softly, yanking me out of my remorseful thoughts.
I lifted my head to look at her. “Yea?” My tone probably reflected the guilt I was feeling.
Squatting, Misaki put Oz back down on the ground. “It’s always been you, you know,” she said in a low yet earnest tone. “For Emily, it really has always been you.”
“I believe that now,” I replied tremulously, feeling guilt-ridden. Then I got to my feet and carefully made my way over to the railing, making sure I left ample space between me and the Japanese girl. I did not intend to make her feel more terrorised by the twatty me. “I’m sorry, Misaki. I really am,” I said ruefully. “I don’t know what had gotten into me earlier. I know I said some hurtful things. I don’t mean all of them.”
Misaki shrugged and forced a smile. “It’s okay. Really, no need to explain. I mean, you have every right to be mad at me. I hid Emily from you. Sneaky accomplice, huh.” She let out a tense laugh and busied herself with attaching the leash to Oz’s leather collar so she wouldn’t have to look at me. “And some of what you said are probably true.”
“No, they’re not,” I said firmly, moving toward her. “You’re not the villain here, Misaki. It’s me who’s solely to blame, okay? I overreacted.” I stood next to her by the railing, a little awkwardly, and bit down on my lower lip. “Christ, you must hate me.”
Misaki straightened up. “I don’t hate anybody,” she replied in a gentle voice. “I just like some people better than the others. And I like you fine, Naomi.” She gave a little genuine smile. It was like a light in the storm. Her eyes shone with a compassion that I didn’t quite feel I deserved. Warmed by her smile, by her ability to forgive, I suddenly understood that 1-800-Perfect-Girlfriend hotline Emily had been dialing all this time.
And it made me feel even more like a bitch for the way I’d made her feel. “If I could take back what I said, I would,” I said softly, sincerely.
Misaki nodded. “I know. I shouldn’t have been so tough on you earlier. I know it must have been hard to be brutally honest with me about how you feel.”
“Brutal. You got that much right,” I said regretfully.
She put her hand on my arm. “Look, Naomi-chan,” she began gently, “I wish what happened earlier didn’t happen. I wish you could take it back, too. At least as much as you do, believe me. And it’s sad that you still hate me and you don’t trust me, no matter what I tell you. I know you do and I don’t blame you.”
I let out a shaky sigh. “I don’t hate you, Misaki. And it’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s just that I . . .” I hesitated, leaning out and placing my elbows onto the railing, “I’ve been having these dreams, you know. Nightmares, in fact. About you and Emily. Emily left me for you. I guess, until now, I’m still paranoid over the fact that I can lose Emily anytime to you.”
Misaki grew quiet at this. She looked seriously baffled. “I don’t know what to say . . .”
My lip quivered and I no longer wished to hold anything back. “I don’t know.” I lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. “I’m always just intimidated by you, Misaki. So insecure of you. I tried to convince myself that you’re not a threat. But every time I’m reminded of how perfect you are, I get scared. I get so fucking paranoid. Because I know Emily loved you. She really did. And what if she wakes up one day and realises that it’s you who could love her better . . . And I just can’t bear that. I don’t think I can lose her. I don’t know what I’d do without her, Misaki. I’d probably go mad . . .”
“I’m sorry that you’re feeling that way. But you don’t have to worry about anything.” Misaki’s dark brown eyes twinkled with sincerity. “Emily’s loyalty to you and her love for you is solid. I can vouch for that.”
“I know.” I lowered my head, feeling a crumpling sensation inside me. My throat tightened. “But every time I see you two together or I hear about you two hanging out, I bury my head under my pillow to block out the sounds of your shared laughter and animated conversations. I told myself I didn’t care. That Emily could spend every moment with you for all she cared.” The words just came tumbling out. “But I don’t know. I can’t help but feel threatened all the time . . .” I kept my eyes down, my lip twitching. “Now I know that all those anxieties sprang up because deep inside I realised how inadequate, incompetent, imperfect I was. I think it was a reflection of my failure as a girlfriend. Because if I was sure that Emily was sure with me, then I wouldn’t have to feel this way, right? I wouldn’t have to be constantly scared and jealous.”
“I understand how you’re feeling and why you’re reacting this way. And I’m sorry for making you feel uncomfortable. But can you blame me?” said Misaki, her eyes fixed on some distant point. “When I’m with Emily, I feel so happy. I mean, how can anyone not want to spend time with her? I’ve never seen any girl who sees things in such an honest way.”
A long pause of silence followed her words. Both of us too wrapped up in our own thoughts to talk or move. I thought about amazing my girlfriend truly was. Emily Fitch was patient and loyal and trusting. She has the most beautiful, sincere eyes I had ever seen. There isn’t anyone in this world like her.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Misaki smiling to herself. “It sounds silly now, but . . .” she bit her lip, “Emily used to be my dream girl in my world.”
I brushed my fingers lightly over the glittering bracelet Emily gave me, overwhelmed by my affection for the lovely redhead. “Well, Emily isn’t just a girl in my world,” I told Misaki. “She’s my world. My whole world. And I’d be lost without her . . .”
Misaki turned her brooding face toward me and smiled at this, but kept silent.
The wind whistled through the cherry and willow trees. I drummed my fingers on the railing of the bridge as I stared out at the view. For a while we simply stood there, looking over the throngs of picnickers and sightseers along the riverbanks, the distant hills, and the night sky. Last Daimonji, the sky was brightened by a crescent moon. Tonight, though, it was a massive waning gibbous moon. It looked ominous despite the festive atmosphere.
I held my breath, afraid to ask the next question. “Do you still love her?” I asked, glancing over at Misaki.
Misaki didn’t shy away from answering as I had expected. “I don’t think I will ever fully get rid of my love for her, you know.” She smiled wistfully. “She’s my first love. She was everything I ever imagined in a first love. She’s not only been a lovely sister, but a best friend, too. Sometimes she felt like my only real friend. Why do you think I keep close to the both of you? It’s not just for Emily, or for you. It’s for me. I care about her, too.”
We both couldn’t look at each other after that revelation. I gripped the railing as the truth hung there between us. Misaki had always loved Emily. Without fear and expectations. Unconditionally. It didn’t surprise me, but it stung like hell. Sensing my sudden tenseness, Misaki suddenly touched my arm. “But like I said, you don’t have to worry about anything, Naomi. I respect your relationship. I mean, I do love Emily but I’m not in love with her. She’s like a sister to me now.”
I finally turned to her and smiled. It still probably came out tight, but I really tried. “That’s really nice to know,” I heard myself say. I let out a breath and bit down on my lower lip. I knew I was going to say something that would make things much more awkward between us but I just took the plunge. “Sometimes I still think about what happened back then at the Planetarium, you know. What if I had stayed there, what if I had waited . . . Would things be different?”
“It could’ve been easier, yes,” she answered simply.
I looked down at my hands, clutching the railing tight in front of me. “I thought you were a complete fool for letting Emily go. I still think about it, you know. Putting my self-interest aside . . . what if I had not fought for Emily, what if I had not shown up at the Love Café, what if I just let you two be.” I closed my eyes, hating those words that spilled out of my mouth. “Would Emily be happier?”
Misaki shook her head with a chuckle. “Naomi, stop it. Stop being silly,” she said. “Seriously, you need to stop thinking about the what ifs and quit questioning your qualifications as Emily’s girlfriend. You have to focus on the present. Focus on the fact that you have a girl wandering out there who’s crazy about you and is willing to give up anything for you. You are very lucky that Emily’s your girlfriend, you know.”
Then Misaki’s face took on a faraway look, and for several minutes she was silent. I sensed she was holding something back. At one point it appeared as if she was not going to confide, but at the last moment, Misaki seemed to change her mind. Finally she straightened up, shyly glanced up at the stars, and spoke. “There’s just this thing. I don’t know. I find it really extraordinary . . .” Her voice was quiet, confidential.
I simply looked at her, allowing her to gather her thoughts.
Misaki looked sideways at me. “Earlier you said something about me being able to snag pretty much anyone I like and yet—” I opened my mouth to react, but Misaki held up a hand. “Let me finish first, Naomi.” She smiled benignly. “Do you know why it’s hard for me to just pick a person and let myself fall in love?”
I stayed silent, waiting for her to continue.
“It’s not that easy when you’re a hopeless romantic like me, Naomi. See, I believe in true love. As cheesy as it may sound, I believe in waiting for Ms. Right. And she hasn’t come yet to sweep me off my feet. I know there’s a right person for me out there, like there’s a right person for each and everyone of us. I’ve witnessed it, you know,” she said, a bit dreamily. “I hear Emily’s voice when she talks about you . . . and I see the way she looks at you . . . and, to be honest, I,” she looked away, then back, “I want some of that.”
Deep in thought, Misaki gazed down at the flowing river beneath us. I followed her gaze. “You know sometimes I would watch Emily watch you,” she went on quietly. “She would gaze at you and her smile would be softer, full of obvious love. And I . . . I guess I’m just waiting for someone to look at me with the same intensity and emotion. The way you two look at each other. Like there was nothing else in the world more important than that person. Sore wa suteki da to omou (I think that’s truly amazing). I just really want that . . .”
I did, too. I wanted Emily, and everything that came with her, with an intensity that bordered on pain. For some moments both of us stood there by the railing, comfortable and companionable silence now enveloping us.
“I love Emily. With all I am and all I have,” I broke the long silence with my words—spoken in care and honesty. “I love her so much, Misaki. And it kills me that sometimes she still doubts that.”
Misaki smiled at this. “Good,” she said. “But maybe, just maybe,” she reached for my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, “you could show her what kind of love that is? Prove it to her. Emily’s more of an action sort of girl. You should know this by now.” I stayed silent, letting her words penetrate me before saying anything. But there was nothing to say, really. I just nodded my head and chewed on my lip in understanding.
Misaki wrapped her arms around herself and tilted her head back as if savouring the night air. “It’s getting real cold out here,” she said. “What do you say, I’ll just hand Oz over to Keisuke very fast and let’s grab a coffee or something?” She gestured toward a Starbucks nearby. “You seem like you need nourishment.”
I nodded, sighing. “Oh, God, yes. Please. I need caffeine to wake me up. I honestly feel like one of the Undead.” I massaged my temples, feeling unbearably tired.
Misaki gently tugged on Oz’s leash. “We’ll walk you first to Starbucks so you can relax a bit while I return Oz," she suggested. She regarded me with pure concern. I must’ve looked like a car crash—with my puffy face and red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes. “You look real rough.”
With Oz in tow, Misaki and I walked along the sidewalk toward the café in silence. My feet were numb and senseless, the constant beating of them against the hard cement made me face the reality pain brought. It was just unbearable to witness Emily losing faith in our love.
When we reached the coffee house, I immediately plopped down in an outdoor chair under a patio umbrella. Pain was still so heavy in my heart that I felt all the way numb. Misaki put a hand on my shoulder. “It’s windy out here, Naomi-chan. Don’t you want to get a table inside?”
I bit my lip in determination and shook my head, then I moved forward and leant my elbows on the table. “No. I’ll stay here,” I said, staring down at my tightly clasped hands. “I deserve this cold.”
I walked and walked. A bit aimlessly. But I couldn’t care less. I had nothing else in mind except to get away from the people, from the hopelessness and bitterness I had been feeling. I walked away from the laughter and the talk, away from the lovey-dovey couples strolling along the esplanades and banks of Kamo River, away from the blare of amplified music from the electronic gadget stores and the bright blur of neon signs toward the quieter streets where there were no pubs or ramen shops or all-night service stations, no arcade centres or Pachinko houses or convenience stores; quieter streets lined with trees where the buildings housed beauty salons and dentists, small businesses that closed up at nightfall. I chose one half-deserted street and walked on.
My phone vibrated. I knew who was calling. I ignored it. It kept buzzing. And buzzing. Still, I ignored it. I didn’t know how to react yet. And I didn’t want to be found. I needed this time alone to hold myself and sort out my feelings. If I did answer now, I would probably just explode on her. And I didn’t want that.
If there was something I had learnt from the past it was that . . .
Hurting Naomi meant hurting myself too.
I took a deep breath and suddenly all the pent-up feelings about Naomi and the fact that she made me feel excluded and unimportant and uncertain came tumbling out. I stared up at the endless, unfathomable evening sky, wishing for a shooting star to appear. Maybe I could wish for a relationship do over. Because where Naomi and I stood now was just a shitty pile of old arse bricks.
Ever since Naomi got back from her deputy stint, everything that happened afterwards was like a maddening dance, in which each of us had taken turns leading, one pushing, the other pulling, and vice versa. I didn’t think I could bear the thought of us dancing like that together a second longer. But what was I supposed to do? Finding another dancing partner was certainly not an option. I had to remember that while Naomi had the ability to make me hurt like this, she was also the only person who could make me incredibly happy. I couldn’t deny that only in her arms I had found true bliss. Dealing with such a whirlwind of emotions brought about a sudden, ominous ache of tears but I held it back.
Somewhere in the night, I had lost a treasured part of my heart. And I felt like I had started losing grip on it the second I walked away from Naomi. I’m not gonna lie, it took a lot of effort to turn my back on Naomi Campbell—to see the pain mirrored in her soulful blue eyes, the devastated look on her pretty face. I wandered through the street as if I were sleepwalking. My body was constantly on autopilot, but I could no longer find myself bound by the drag of my body. It was as though I had lost the part of my heart that held the connection between my body and soul. I felt like night was all around me. Even when I thought hard, I could not will away the darkness in my mind.
I reached inside the pocket of my bag for my iPod, inserted the earbuds into my ears, and browsed for that song that I would always play whenever Naomi and I had a spat. I always had the perfect song for the perfect situation. It would keep me reminded. And I needed to be reminded at this moment.
♫ You only know what I want you to
I know everything you don’t want me to
Your mouth is poison
Your mouth is wine
You think your dreams are the same as mine ♫
The whole bloody encounter with Naomi had left me drained and shaky. After finding a deserted alley, I leant against a wall and let the tears slip freely down my face.
♫ Ooh, I don’t love you
But I always will
Oh, I don’t love you
But I always will
I don’t love you
But I always will
I always will ♫
It had always kept me reminded.
It’s so hard to hate her when I love her this much, I admitted, my contrasting feelings ripping me apart. It’s just so fucking hard.
I sat there under the green patio umbrella and watched through the glass window as Misaki ordered by the café counter. I’d been too hard on the girl. I’d been, in fact, a real jerk. Like a wounded animal, I had lashed out at someone who was simply trying to be there for my girlfriend. Misaki was a friend. Misaki was an angel. I never spoke to her like that. And I’d never felt compelled to speak to her that way either. And yet Misaki still had bothered to buy me coffee, keep me company, and care about my well-being. Well, what could I say? I was just plain bitchy.
Guilt tore my gaze away from the pretty Japanese girl and for a while I thoughtfully toyed with the now-empty napkin dispenser in the centre of the table. There were oddly a few people here at the coffee shop. Most of the people must be down by the river or on their rooftops waiting for the bonfires to be lit up. The only real noise came from the outdoor speakers playing jazz music, the tireless flowing river, and the rustling trees.
I took out my phone from my purse, rang Emily’s number, and reached her voicemail again. I’ve decided to just take the plunge and let it out. If I don’t, my chest would probably explode with feelings.
“I’m sorry, Emily, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me,” I tried to explain in a stuttering voice as I nervously toyed with the mutilated balls of tissue and napkin in front of me. “I’m sorry, Ems. It’s just that – I’m afraid to lose you . . . I can feel that you’re slipping away from me. And I just can’t let that happen. I won’t allow it. Emily, please, just give me another chance. I promise things will be better. I’m sorry, babe. Give us one more shot, please. I swear I . . . I’d do anything for us to be okay again. I’d do anything to make you stay. Just please, Em, don’t give up on us. I love you. I love you so much . . .” I trailed off, knowing that there wasn’t anything more I could say. I ended the call and the click sounded like a door had closed on me. And all I could do was sit there and stare, my heart almost jumping out of my chest, hammering so fast with fear that I really did lose Emily now and it would be my fault and my fault only.
I shoved the pile of mutilated tissues to the side, leant forward on my elbows, and rested my head in my hands. I stared off into space, my heart still pounding in my chest, my mind racing with paranoid thoughts. To say I was frightened would be an understatement. I was terrified. I was terrified because I didn’t know what Emily was thinking at the moment—Was she going to forgive me? Would she come home to me after “walking the madness off” and sort things out with me? Or has she had enough and decide to break up with me? Was she giving up on us? No. No fucking way. I certainly wouldn’t allow Emily to just slip through my fingers like that. I would do anything and everything to preserve our relationship. I would jump off a bridge if she told me this would make her stay with me.
A few moments later, a chuckling Misaki appeared with a laden tray and sat down across me at the table. “Oz is dead asleep, Keisuke texted. Who knew that little guy is capable of rest.” After decorously crossing her legs, she chirpily handed me a cup of steaming espresso. “Here’s your coffee, Naomi-chan.”
“Thanks.” I held the warm cup but kept staring straight ahead—at the lush carpet of perfectly-mowed green grass, beautifying the coffee shop.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that when Misaki saw the dull look on my face, her expression instantly turned somber and full of concern. “Hey . . .” She put a sympathetic hand on my arm, making me look at her. “Naomi . . .”
I straightened up in my seat and managed a grateful smile at the girl. I gulped my first drink, bringing tears to my own eyes, or was that the effect of the chaos earlier?
“I just don’t know what to do,” I admitted. I sighed heavily as I stared into my cup of Caffè Americano. “God, this coffee’s a bit powerful.”
“I’m sorry,” Misaki said apologetically, placing her bag on her lap. “I thought you said you wanted it strong.”
“Oh, well,” I raised one shoulder, “I deserve this bitterness, anyway.”
Frowning, Misaki shook her head. “You don’t have to be so hard on yourself. Here . . .” She pushed a plate toward me. “Have a cheesecake, Naomi-chan.”
The Japanese girl watched me carefully as I picked up the tiny fork. I took a little slice of the New York cheesecake and numbly bit into it. In next to no time, tears began gushing from my eyes again. Fuck. Could I be more pathetic?
Misaki leant forward and gently tucked a napkin into my free hand. “I know I’ve said that it’s healthy for you to cry and you can do it the entire day for all you want, Naomi-chan, but we’re sort of running out of napkin.” She made a contrite face.
I actually laughed and smiled despite my tears, and she grinned sheepishly.
She hitched a thumb toward the café. “I could go inside and ask for more, though,” she added.
I laughed some more as I wiped tears from my eyes. You gotta give this pretty girl props for her effortless humour.
I looked at her, gripping the napkin, desperate for assurance. “She still wants me, right? I mean, Emily would take me back, right?”
Misaki gave my arm a couple of reassuring pats. “Well, I’ve said it earlier, and I’ll say it again,” she said, earnestly, “you’re very lucky to have someone as devoted and considerate as Emily.”
“Right,” I said quietly, biting into my quivering lower lip.
Misaki shifted slightly in her chair and recrossed her legs. “No, Naomi-chan, I’m serious.” Her voice was firm. “I don’t get why you find it difficult to maintain a smooth relationship with Emily or at least open up to her. I mean, she’s Emily Fitch. The sweetest, most amazing, most understanding, loveliest girl in this world.”
I only stared at the Japanese girl, mute, because I knew she was so right. She’d hit the nail right on the head. While Misaki leant her elbow on the table and sipped on her Matcha Frappuccino, I subtly scrutinized her face: cheekbones you could stand a tray on, flawless light brown skin, long lashes, perfectly-sculpted lips, and dark brown eyes which looked almost coffee in the light of the lamp post nearby. It’s not hard to see why Emily fancied her a lot. She’s really beautiful.
I decided to toss the worn napkin onto the growing pile of tissues on the table, and took another drink of my coffee, realising how parched my throat had become. “I know you think I’ve been a real bitch,” I told her.
Misaki took a sip of her green tea Frappuccino, then laid the cup back on the table, her forehead scrunched up from the bluntness of my self-condemning words. “Why ever would I think that?”
“Because I’ve been a real bitch, that’s why,” I said, putting down my Starbucks coffee cup on the table. “I’ve been a total asshole to you and Emily. But . . .” I ran a finger around the rim of my cup, “there were just some crazy things that went on and I guess I ended up feeling less adequate, more guilty. And I started looking for things elsewhere . . .”
She lowered her plastic coffee cup instead of taking another sip. “Why would you look elsewhere when you’ve got Emily?”
“I know, I know,” I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “That’s why I’ve been a stupid cunt and I’m aware of it.”
“Why can’t you just talk to your girlfriend?”
Feeling even more guilty, I stared away from her and at the ground. Biting my lip, I considered the question for a moment with utter guilt.
“Because she wouldn’t,”—I paused, fiddled with the fork—“oh, I don’t really know. All the pressure. I couldn’t stand it. Emily wouldn’t stand it. She wouldn’t understand it.”
Misaki leant forward. “She wouldn’t understand it?” she repeated in a puzzled voice. “Emily’s a smart, sensible girl. I’m sure she could’ve.”
I sighed in exasperation. “I know.” I ducked my head and bit into the cheesecake on my fork.
“You know, Naomi, the things we take for granted, we could lose. You say you love Emily, don’t you? Well, you don’t just talk about it, you prove it. Show her what you’re talking about, Naomi-chan. Make her feel like she has no reason to feel unsure anymore. That you’re the real deal. That for you, she’s the real deal, too.”
I stirred my cup of coffee and watched the frothy top swirl in the centre of the dark liquid. I thought about what Misaki had just said. She was right, yet again. I expelled a deep breath and kept looking at the dark liquid. I didn’t think a caffeine high was a good idea for my fragile heart—that and the fact I hated the taste of americano. The coffee had to be a bit milky with a lump of sugar, or else it would get nowhere near my mouth. When I finally had the strength to glance up, I smiled benignly at the Japanese girl. “Thanks, Misaki. Really. Thank you for being here,” I told her, a bit shakily but sincerely. “I would’ve checked myself into a mental hospital without you here with me. Thanks for keeping me sane.”
Misaki daintily poked the cheesecake with her own fork. “So it’s safe to say we’re okay? You don’t hate me?” she asked, smiling back.
“How can I hate one of the best things that’s ever happened to Emily?”
Misaki looked taken aback for a moment. “Do you mean that?”
“I mean it.” I grabbed my cup, threw back my head and swallowed the rest of the drink. I pushed the cup to the side after putting it down on the table and looked at Misaki intently, signalling that I was done with the drink and ready for serious conversation. “I actually wanted to tell you something.” Misaki looked terrified for a moment, so I put my hand on her arm to assure her. “I just wanted to tell you . . . how important you are to Emily. And I’d never, ever stop you being close to her, because I know how much you mean to her. You always will.”
“Thanks,” she said, lowering her head as she got emotionally overwhelmed. “I just feel . . . Emily’s friendship means a lot to me. And I really care about her. And I don’t know if—Gosh, my contacts are slipping.” She looked up, blinking away tears. “You’re making me cry, Naomi-chan.” She chuckled softly.
“It’s true, though,” I told her, smiling at her adorableness.
Misaki swiped her fingers beneath her eyes in an attempt to fix her smeared eyeliner, then turned to me with an earnest smile painted on her face. “Emily’s friendship is really important to me, Naomi. Yours, too. I care for both of you. And it made me so sad to see you two falling apart like that. Being caught in the middle is one of the worst feelings ever,” she said. “But I know you can save the relationship, Naomi. You say that you love her? Well, then, to tell you frankly, you shouldn’t be just sitting here and wasting one more second, Naomi-chan. You’ve got to start acting like a girlfriend again. And that means you have to go back and work. Work on your relationship. I’m sorry, I know it’s none of my business but . . . do you get me, Naomi-chan?”
I nodded, acknowledging that Misaki had a point. I sat in silence for what felt like an eternity, merely staring at the straw sticking out of Misaki’s plastic cup that was full of jade ice-blended drink. It was flat-out depressing to be faced by the fact that Emily was losing faith in our love, yet it was worse to hide my head in the sand. Something was going to have to be done. Some confrontation would have to be faced. Definitely tonight.
Weary to the bone, I stood up, grabbed my sling purse and flung it over my shoulder. I might be tired, but I wasn’t dead.
To hell with all this weariness and my sagging heart. I wanted my girlfriend, and I wanted her now.
“You know what? You’re right, Misaki. I’m going to show it to her,” I said with determination. “I’m gonna remind her of what we had. I’m going to remind her of the cheeseball that she fell in love with. I’m going to remind her how fucking awesome it is to be loved by me. By all means, I’m gonna get her back. I’m gonna make Emily stay.”
Misaki stood and looked directly into my eyes. “I know I’m right, Naomi-chan. I’m not the love expert—” I laughed, and Misaki allowed a small smile. “But you and Emily will get through this. Go make her a nice romantic dinner and talk things over so you can finally get to the bottom of this mess. Reach out to her, pamper her, be sweet to her, include her. Emily is the type of girl who needs reassurance all the time.”
“Thanks a lot, Misaki. You’re a real angel.” I hugged her, and Misaki wrapped her arms around me too. We held each other tightly, and I couldn’t help wondering if Misaki needed a hug even more than I did.
After releasing Misaki, I turned and cut across the lawn but stopped short and looked back. “You want to know something, Misaki?”
The Japanese girl tilted her head inquisitively. “Yea?”
“I swear I never hated you,” I said, meaning it. “I only probably hated the idea that you’d done something that I could never do.”
“What was that?”
“You loved Emily perfectly. Like a hotshot,” I told her. “I seriously only hated the fact that someone loved Emily perfectly. And it wasn’t me. I could convince her I can make tastier pancakes. I could make her believe we have far more incredible chemistry. I could tell her all that. But if there was something I couldn’t prove to Emily while you two were together, it was that she deserved better. Because I know I’m not better than you. I couldn’t possibly be. You’re, like, perfect.”
A smile crossed Misaki’s face, lighting her elegantly pretty features. “Yea, but, see,” she said softly, “sometimes perfect doesn’t quite make it. It just has to be right. And you, Naomi, are absolutely right for her.”
While I continued my aimless wandering through the street, I drank the beer I had bought quickly at a convenience store, the alcohol keeping the cold of the night away; I didn’t pay attention where I went, and after I had halfway emptied the can, I started humming to myself, ignoring the strange looks the few people that passed me gave me.
♫ Ooh, I don’t love you
But I always will
Oh, I don’t love you
But I always will
I don’t love you
But I always will
I always will . . . ♫
I pressed the Pause button on my iPod, took the buds out of my ears, letting the wires dangle down from my neck, and glanced at my watch. Half past nine. I looked towards east at the mountains. The night sky over there was still painted a bright red. The bonfire light up was still ongoing.
It was the most magnificent summer event in Kyoto yet I couldn’t care less. I just walked on with one hand pushed into a pocket of my shorts and one clutching my can of beer, letting my feet carry wherever they wanted to carry me.
I hadn’t realised I was walking around the city for two hours already. Jeez.
I hadn’t intended for it to be this long, but I’d been so busy fighting off the persistent thoughts of Naomi and our messy situation. And now here I was, as if my feet remembered the way and forgotten to mention to my mind where they were going.
I stopped at the corner, under the big maidenhair tree, staring down at an apartment building in the middle of the block. Maybe I needed a really chill place. A refuge. And with the absence of Effy’s windowsill and the discomfort of my little hideaway, I think I could settle with one of the places I could seek solace.
Misaki’s apartment, of course. Misaki. Again. I know.
Just as I started down the street, my phone buzzed. This time, I took a peek. It was a voicemail and a few text messages from Naomi, as expected. For a while I debated with myself whether to listen to it or not, and in the end I decided to just read the messages and leave the voicemail unheard until I was ready to hear my girlfriend out. Maybe this will help me sort out my muddled feelings. Step by step.
Tears—of affection, perhaps—began to fill my eyes, but I blinked them back. Staring at the messages, I couldn’t deny that after all this time Naomi Campbell has the amazing power to make my heart race and give me tingles. I’m just powerless when it comes to the blonde. I know that Naomi genuinely loves me. She’s just awful at showing it. Ignoring the butterfly pavilion in my tummy, I shoved my phone back into my pocket and walked on.
The sky was covered with new patterns of stars by the time I got to Misaki’s place, and I spotted Oz lying on the mat, his ears perked up and tail thumping. He trotted toward me as I opened the gate into the apartment, greeting me with a couple of sloppy licks.
Automatically I knocked on Misaki’s door. The lights were out. “Misaki?” I called. “Misaki-chan.”
No answer.
Staring numbly at the yellow Smiley magnet on her door, I knocked again. “Misaki?” No answer.
Finally I pressed the tiny doorbell button, the buzz painfully ringing through my head. Still, no answer. Perhaps she went to the convenience store for a while or was in her neighbour’s unit, I reckoned. But I was certain she was just somewhere close by.
I chose to settle on the front cemented stoop of the apartment building, determined to wait for my friend. The bars of the handrail felt like ice, but I leant against them anyway. If I didn’t, I was afraid I might fall apart.
Thankfully, Oz came to the rescue.
“Hey, Oz,” I said, as the puppy licked me consolingly. “I’m sorry you had to see Mummy Emily and Mummy Naomi fight like that, okay? I’m sorry. It’s just that—” After an unsuccessful struggle, I felt the tears flowing freely now. “It’s so hard. It’s just so hard and scary.”
As if he understood what I was saying Oz stared back at me sympathetically and made this soft wailing sound.
“I’m sorry,” I sniffled, stroking the dog’s fur. “It’s tough. But we’ll work it out. Don’t worry, Ozzy.”
I smelled awful: barbecue smoke, booze, and sweat. None of these things mattered, though, because all I could think of were Naomi and our headache-causing spats and how my girlfriend could act like a fucking monster sometimes and how she could be so stubborn and impulsive and insensitive and whatnots. I let my head fall between my knees wishing I could just do the damn day over again. I wished I had stopped Naomi earlier so hurtful words didn’t have to be uttered.
“Emily-chan?” A familiar light voice broke into my worn-out mind. “Emily?”
My head jerked up and quickly I wiped my tears away. “Oh, hey.” I turned around and saw Misaki leaning against the door, her hair disheveled, looking like she had just finished some bloody rigorous activity. I forced a smile at her. “Hi.”
She looked at me carefully. “What’s been eating you? I’ve been calling your name.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, struggling to keep the smile on my face. “I was just thinking so hard I forgot where I was.”
“One should never think that hard,” she said, as she wiped off sweat on her forehead with the back of her hand. “It’s bad for the brain.”
Misaki seemed really tired, but obviously tried to hide it whilst I dried my tears and smiled weakly at her. “I know. I feel like a bloody zombie right now.” Then taking in her appearance, I asked, half-concerned and half-amused. “Where’ve you been? Did you just dig a grave?”
She laughed at this. “I was just looking for a missing shoe of my pair of running shoes in the backyard. Oz played with them yesterday and somehow this naughty little Donatello did a work of art.” Laughing some more, she held up a chewed up pink Nike rubber shoe. “Oz and I were gonna go for a walk. He’s just super hyper. I think it’s ‘cos he took a nap earlier during the picnic.”
“I’m sorry about what Oz did,” I said, looking forlornly at the tattered shoe. “If you want a new pair, I could—”
She waved me off. “Nonsense. Dogs and chewed up shoes seem to go together like bills and headache.”
I chuckled at this.
“So what’s up?” she said, walking toward me. “I see you’ve been drinking, Emily-chan.” Frowning, she shook her head disapprovingly at the empty can planted on the step.
“Just one can. I’m not drunk, okay?” I swore.
“Okay. But are you feeling better now?”
Her staring at the tear tracks on my face was making me feel uncomfortable so I looked down and self-consciously picked at my cuticles. “I don’t know.”
Misaki took a seat beside me at the steps. “If you’re worried about Naomi, she’s most likely waiting for you to come home. She really wants to make it up to you, you know. She loves you a lot, Emily-chan.”
With jerky movements, I removed the scarf from around my neck. “I’m not here to talk about her,” I said, with a hint of tartness in my tone. It was obvious I was still hurting inside.
Misaki nodded. Ever-understanding. “Okay.”
“I was just going to give this back to you.” I placed the scarf on her lap. “Thanks a lot. You’re a sweetheart.”
As she neatly folded the scarf, Misaki eyed me closely. “Are you sure this is what you came here for?”
I scratched at an imaginary itchy spot on my leg. “Well, erm, I needed a chill place too,” I answered lamely, then pulled my knees close.
Smiling, Misaki put her arm around my shoulders. “Okay, then. Let’s chill.”
For the longest time we just sat there together, gazing at the moon in the black clear night sky and watching the bamboo trees gently sway with the wind. Misaki’s apartment was close to our dormitory, and for that, I was grateful. It had always felt glorious being near to Misaki, and I had always loved the comforting warmth of her apartment and her hugs and her little touches and her sweet voice. I knew she regarded me as her best friend, and she had always been mine too. I, too, knew I could never be without her. I needed her as a friend, period. And right about now, I just needed Misaki to bring back my sanity. She always knew what to say and do. Every fucking time.
“Tsuki nante kirei nandarou (How pretty is the moon) . . .” Misaki smiled wistfully, tilting her head back. “This is why I chose to stay and study in Kyoto. For views like this.”
“Mm-hmm.” I leant my head on her shoulder and enjoyed the cosiness even more.
“It’s lovely here,” my friend went on quietly. “It’s just chaotic in Tokyo, you know. The air over there makes me crazy.”
“Yea, it’s a bit of a crazy hellhole—Hang on.” I straightened up then looked around. “Where did Oz go?”
“Maybe wandering around the back,” Misaki answered with a shrug. “When he gets bored, he plays with the penguins.”
“Penguins?” I repeated in bafflement. “You have pet penguins here?”
She laughed. A comforting sound, soft and easy. “Decorative penguins. The kanrinin-san (landlady) brought them out a week ago and Oz easily became fond of them. Don’t worry, they’re made of plaster. He loves licking them. I told you, Oz likes the birds. He might have feather fetish.”
“Feather fetish,” I echoed, grinning. “I like that.”
“C’mon,” Misaki grabbed my wrist, “since you missed the Daimonji, let’s stargaze instead.” She pulled me up with her and led me out the gate into the front yard where it was just as quiet but the view was way better and unobstructed by trees. We went over the sidewalk and sat down on the curb. It was past ten o’clock in the evening. The chill in the air made me shiver. The only company we had was a burnt-out streetlight. I looked at our feet in the empty gutter.
“You want?” Misaki held out a Twizzler that she had been keeping in the pocket of her jacket prompting a little squeal of delight from me.
“Thanks!” I took it from her and unwrapped it right away. “This is just what I need.” Misaki wrapped her arms around her bare knees, and tilted her face up to look at the moon again.
I leant back with one arm on the cold cement, the other one holding the licorice candy, and found myself studying Misaki. Thoughts of the intense encounter revisited my mind. I gotta say, Misaki’s actions and words really shocked me. I couldn’t believe my eyes and ears for a moment. Good God. Who knew Misaki Ueno could raise her voice like that. It was just a rare moment.
Smiling, I shook my head. “You surprised me earlier.”
“I know,” she laughed lightly, “I didn’t intervene in my usual gracious manner.”
“It really scared the shit out of me.” Then I held up a hand in a pardoning gesture. “Although, I think that was warranted. So you’re excused.”
Misaki straightened up and bit her lip. “For a second, I actually felt great. Then I hated myself,” she frowned, “Iisugite, gomen nasai (Sorry, I said too much).”
I bit off a huge portion of my candy and chewed grumpily. “I don’t know. I mean, it’s actually good that you snapped to shut Naomi up, to be honest. But yea, I’m sorry about what happened earlier. Everyone lost their cool. I’m sorry about Naomi. She can be a real twat sometimes.”
“It’s okay. Naomi and I have ironed out our issues. We’re okay now.”
“You’ve talked?” I didn’t hide the surprise in my tone.
“Yep, we’ve declared world peace.” She gave me a little wink.
I blew out a goaded breath. “I don’t know. That woman is just . . . urgh,” I moaned, covering my face with my hands. “I don’t know what to do with her anymore.”
Misaki laid a comforting hand on my back. “Well, look, Naomi didn’t handle it the way she should have but she loves you, Emily. People just sometimes screw up when it comes to love,” she said softly. “It’s just a rough patch.”
I lifted my head from my hands, hopeless. “Well, did you see what she did earlier? She’s lost her head. God knows how one should deal with that girl.”
“Just be the bigger person.”
“I’ve always been the bigger person, Misaki. You have no idea.”
“I know. But I completely understand where Naomi’s coming from,” she said in a gentle, sensible voice. “When you love someone—that hard . . . you just tend to lose common sense and do really stupid things. Not knowing that you’re hurting the other person . . . or you’re hurting . . . yourself . . .” She trailed off, suddenly absorbed by anguished thoughts and for a moment I only watched her as she gazed up at the stars with a sad twinkle in her eyes.
I fidgeted with my nails with one hand, while the other held the Twizzler twist. I bit my quivering lip. Misaki has always been a smart girl. And I still couldn’t forgive myself when I had been the reason her good sense had been rattled at some point. She fell in love with me and stayed with me to the point of complete stupidity. I still blame myself.
I was scared, guilt-ridden, and nervous, because I knew that no matter what, the question I was about to ask would trigger more bittersweet emotions within her. I did not know if I had the courage to do so, though, Misaki had begun to look so vulnerable, flipping through imaginary pages that evoked painful memories. Now all the bravery had gone out of me, and I knew it was because there was something bothering Misaki and she looked like she was hurting and it was my entire fault. I swallowed hard down, and built up the last courage I could gather inside. I needed to know . . .
“Misaki?” My voice came out as a whisper.
Slowly, she swung her gaze from the sky toward me. “Yea?”
I took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. Her warm, dark brown eyes were looking straight at me too intimately. “Never mind.” I looked away, chickening out a bit.
She put her hand on my forearm. “What is it?” she probed gently.
“Nothing,” I mumbled, then started nibbling with my candy.
“Emily.”
“Did it hurt so badly?” I finally asked, the words sounding choked, and forced myself to look at her after.
She gave me a long, steady look that made me suddenly nervous, wondering what she was thinking. But when she answered me, the answer was innocuous enough. “If you meant a few sleepless nights and fifty litres of tears, then yes. It did hurt. Like I said, I went through that phase where I felt disappointed with everything that happened between us but I got over it.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Really, Emily. There’s nothing you have to be sorry for. Like I said, I got on. And it was sweet while it lasted.” She could not look at me while uttering this, but I grasped her hand and squeezed it, I knew she had more on her heart. She turned around and smiled sweetly to me, and said, “I will admit, though . . . Sometimes I look at you and wonder, for a fleeting, insane second, what it would be like to see your blue cardigan on my couch again. Your shoes by my door again.”
“And?”
She tucked her hair behind her ear. “And sometimes I ask myself what if I had just kept a choke hold on you . . .”
“And?”
Her smile faded a trifle. “And I realised that we will never be truly happy,” she said. “Because you were meant to be with Naomi. You were meant to be in her arms.”
I could only stare at her, clueless of what to say or do. But I was in awe of the classy and rational way she deals with things. Every fucking time.
Misaki held my gaze. “Emily, do you think I’d be content knowing your kisses are half-hearted, your words half-meant?”
I didn’t know how and what to answer so I just looked up the sky. She did the same, and for some moments we only gazed at the millions of stars as we silently ate our licorice twists. I sneaked a look at my friend again who was thoughtfully nibbling her candy. What really struck me was that certain sad and weary twinkle in her eyes. I knew I could never know her pain, or understand her. Guilt ate me up some more, making me wince inwardly. Misaki certainly had been through so much because of me. Her life became one hell of a dramatic rollercoaster ride because of me.
I wish Misaki all the love in the world. I wish for her to find that someone who truly deserves her and who she truly deserves. Clearly, that person isn’t me.
“Can I ask you a personal question?” I suddenly broke the silence. “I know this might sound awkward, but I just had to ask.”
Misaki looked at me with her mouth slightly ajar, her candy stopped halfway to her mouth. “Okay. Go ahead.”
“Why did you love me, Misaki?”
Her brows creased in puzzlement. “Huh?”
“Why did you keep on loving me?”
She pulled back slightly and with an amused smirk, she responded, “What kind of question is that, Emily?” Then she finally took a bite off her Twizzler.
“You knew you were in for a heartbreak. You knew I was a mess. You knew I couldn’t give you all of me. You knew you were gonna get hurt. I know you knew it, Misaki.”
“Um-hmm,” she mumbled, chewing on the candy.
My serious look and tone were unchanging. “What? You were aware of it, right?”
“Yes,” she answered oh-so-casually.
“Then why did you keep on loving me?”
Misaki shifted on the curb to look at me completely. “Like I said, I don't expect rewards for things that I do, Emily,” she answered. “Why couldn’t I just love you because I wanted to?”
At this, I felt increasingly helpless. I looked down at my feet again. I didn’t know what to do. And surely Misaki would only reject another “sorry.”
“Okay, my turn.” Misaki put a hand on my knee to make me look at her, and I did. “Answer this truthfully, please: Why did you choose me? That time at the Planetarium. Why me? Why did you come to me?”
It felt odd, I had to admit, even thinking about it. I thought we had put everything behind us long ago. Talking about it—any of it—was even stranger; we never did, never dared. Now it seemed like we had opened up this torrent of long-unspoken words and memories.
“Why me, Emily?” she prodded gently.
I looked toward the sky for a moment, tiny tears filling my eyes. “You loved me, you fool. You kept right on doing it, no matter how crappy I was.”
“You chose me, out of guilt?” she said, and it felt like a blade went through my ribs and burst my heart.
“This might sound bloody ridiculous but—” I drew in a breath, then finally faced her—“I know you, Misaki. All your life you were just content with things not coming your way. It was like you were used to good things not happening or them happening in a fleeting manner. When I came to your apartment that night before the Sansha Party, I looked at you, you know. I really looked at you. And I saw something in your eyes. For the first time in your life, you wanted to fight for something. You wanted to fight for me. And that hit me so hard.”
She looked down into her lap, smiling sadly. “You just didn’t have the heart to break me . . .”
“At that time you might think it’s a no-brainer—Naomi and I were crazy about each other, so we should be together. But she didn’t make me feel certain and safe the way you did. She could only give me crumbs while you gave me the whole pie. And you were important to me, too, Misaki. I did love you. Believe me, I really did. I couldn’t hurt you. It’s the last thing I want to do, honest.”
“Yea, but you did,” she said without a tinge of bitterness in her voice. And that struck me as truly amazing. How the girl could have such a forgiving heart. “And you lied to yourself, which I think is a foolish move to make.”
“I’ve made a lot of stupid things back then, Misaki. I don’t know. I was an idiot. I went mad. I went so bloody mad that all I could think about then was channeling all that frustration, fear, and heartache toward Naomi. I was out on a collision course, you know.”
“But you didn’t know that hurting Naomi meant . . .”
I expelled a deep breath. “Yes,” I admitted sadly. “There were loads of things I wish I didn’t say, didn’t do. And one of them was dragging you into that rubbish heap. I’m sorry. I really am. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Misaki smiled, but you can see the sad yet sincere twinkle in her eyes. “I believe that.”
“God. Sometimes I wish you could’ve been one of those bitchy, useless ex-girlfriends so I wouldn’t have to feel so guilty. But you were. You were wonderful.”
“But, still, not as wonderful as Naomi.”
“You’ll never let this one go, will you?”
She shook her head. “Nope.”
I turned and laughed up at her. She laughed, too. We did a little candy duel with what’s left of our Twizzlers until I hugged her. “God, I love you.”
She hugged me back. “I love you, too, Emily-chan.”
When we released each other, Misaki put her arm around me and squeezed my shoulder. “When you really think about it, we’re better off as friends. We’re happier as friends, right?”
“Yea, we’re happier,” I agreed.
“And there’s less drama.”
“Yep. Less drama,” I echoed.
She gave a little shrug and swallowed the last bit of her candy. “Maybe we were only meant to be as friends, in the first place.”
“How so?” I, too, finished off my licorice.
“I think it’s precisely ‘cos we’re too alike,” Misaki replied. “Maybe that’s why we’re still very good friends. You and I are pleasemakers, Emily. We give without taking. And if we do, we’re just willing to take what we can get. Bordering on martyrdom, sometimes.”
I just kept silent. Suddenly she was pulling out something from the other pocket of her jacket. It was the camellia I had tucked over her ear earlier. She handed it to me. “No more flowers, okay?” she said. “It’s a sweet gesture, but Naomi wouldn’t approve.”
I stared down at the pretty pink flower in my hand when suddenly my phone buzzed again. I took it out of my pocket and found out it was a message from Naomi.
I pulled my knees close, let out a soft sigh, then gazed at the sky for several ponderous moments. Whenever I try to think back on the last time I was truly happy, the memory was still that with Naomi. Only in Naomi’s arms.
Misaki patted my arm consolingly. “Listen, go home now, Emily-chan. You know you can crash my couch anytime, but you have to go home to your girlfriend.”
I closed my eyes, overcome by the emotions whirling inside me. I wanted so badly to go home to my girlfriend but fear was pulling me back. What if this thing happens again? What if Naomi doesn’t change? Would we ever sail smoothly? I had a strong feeling that Naomi was going to screw up again somewhere down the road. When I opened them, I looked at Misaki. “When I go back there . . . there’s no turning back. I mean, I’ll have a proper talk with Naomi and . . . and . . .”
My friend smiled. “Why, is there any other way you’d rather have it?”
I didn’t answer so she reached out and gently grabbed my shoulders, her eyes now serious. “You love Naomi and Naomi loves you. And I just can’t imagine a world where you two are not together. Together the way you’re made to be.”
Impulsively, I pulled Misaki in for another hug, the phone and the camellia clutched in either hand. She hugged me back. Another one of her warm, comforting, emotion-filled hugs. “Misaki,” I murmured, tightening my embrace.
“Hm?”
“I love your hugs.”
“Thanks, I guess.” She giggled softly, her cheek on my forehead.
“And uhm . . .”
“Yea?”
I pulled back and found Misaki’s gaze. “Don’t even think for a sec that you’re just a temporary fix for me. We’re always going to be those two people who will care about each other. I know that I’m lucky to have you. And you know I won’t ever stop needing you.”
“I know, Emily,” she said, smiling her sweet, sincere smile. “And I won’t ever stop looking after you.”
Slinging my purse over my shoulder, I swiftly got out of the cab, located a cart, and entered the grocery store. I had to move fast; I couldn’t waste any more time. I had already spent about an hour tornadoing into almost all of the shops in the city, scouring the whole of Kyoto for a bunch of blue roses and the perfect scented candles.
Inside, I made my way to the produce section, where I collected a bag of potatoes and the makings for a salad. Moving quickly, I located a box of macaroni, a pack of bacon, cheese, and some croutons, then headed toward the rear of the store. Since Emily loved pasta, I had planned to create something better than Mama Luna’s creamy garlic penne. Maybe it was time for my own secret weapon:
The so-called “Mending-Broken-Fences Mac and Cheese”—an original recipe by Aunt Gertrude.
Knowing that Emily liked mint chocolate ice cream, I put a gallon in the cart. Then I grabbed a bunch of fresh green grapes, thinking that the bottle of Chilean red wine I’d been keeping in the room would go well with them.
It was my turn to make a romantic, peace-offering dinner—just like Misaki had suggested. I knew my bitchfit was uncalled for and I’d been a crappy girlfriend so I owe Emily not just this dinner but some serious apology as well.
I took out my phone and typed in a message that I hoped sounded natural and conciliatory. I didn’t want it to sound strained and awkward.
Ems, I’m making dinner. I’ll be waiting in our hideaway, ok? I love you.
I pressed Send, and felt a little, hopeful smile taking over my face. It’s never too late to change things. The thought terrified me even as it excited me. A few minutes later, I was heading back toward the dormitory, feeling as if I’d been given the chance to start over.
Whoever said walking was good for your health needed to be shot, I thought as I headed back down to the main street from Misaki’s place. I had been walking for what seemed like an entire night all in all. Now my feet were callused, and I was pretty damned sure my legs were going to break right off and tumble into a ditch.
I was sweaty, dirty, wrinkled, and annoyed.
And I was hungry. Damn, I hated feeling hungry.
My moby buzzed and I dug it out of my pocket, praying for salvation, a fairy godmother, or at least a miracle.
I couldn’t stop a little chuckle from escaping my mouth. It’s crazy how fate was playing with me. And how it’s working to my girlfriend’s advantage. More reasons to go back to the dorm, I guess.
Pocketing my phone, I reinserted the earbuds of my iPod into my ears and pressed the waiting play button on the screen. Then I walked on along the alternating rows of Katsura trees and bright street lights of Marutamachi Street.
♫ I wish you’d hold me
When I turn my back
The less I give
The more I get back ♫
I skirted the edge of the road to walk along a soft cushion of grass. I loved the feeling of it under my feet; it was as if I was being massaged.
♫ Ooh, your hands can heal
Your hands can bruise ♫
I looked up at the endless, unfathomable evening sky and noticed that the moon was almost reaching its apex. I was reminded that it meant it was nearly midnight already—a time-telling trick I’ve learned from my girlfriend. A group of people on their bicycles passed by me, giving me strange looks. God, I must’ve looked like a lost drunken red-haired foreigner, wandering on the streets alone in late hours just before midnight.
♫ I don’t have a choice
But I still choose you ♫
I stopped short just in front of a soda vending machine, bent down and quickly picked up a vagrant camellia blossom from the paved ground. Then turning right toward a narrower street leading to our dormitory, I plucked the petals out one by one from the flower’s head along with the song.
I pulled a petal out. ♫ Oh, I don’t love you♫
I tweaked another one . . . ♫ But I always will ♫
And so on . . . ♫ Oh, I don’t love you
But I always will ♫
The soft, whispering petals floated like feathers to the ground. I smiled and stared up at the sky.
I always will.
I reached for the paper bags on the kitchen table, setting the groceries on the counter. It had taken me longer than I’d anticipated, but I still had enough time to get things started.
I set a pot of water on the stove and set the burner on high for the pasta. While it was heating, I chopped tomatoes and cucumbers for the salad and potatoes for the soup. I cut up the lettuce and mixed the ingredients together with a bit of cheese and some olives.
I added the macaroni to the water with a dash of salt, unwrapped the bacon, and began to fry it in a saucepan until it became crispy. After setting aside the bacon, in the same pan using the bacon fat, I added flour and milk, and whisked away. I added nutmeg and bay leaf and whisked until it thickened, then turned the heat down to low and cooked at a bare simmer. Discarding the bay leaf, I stirred everything in mustard. I drained the pasta and added it into the pan with the grated cheeses, and I stirred until the cheese had melted. After seasoning it with salt and pepper, I spooned everything out into a serving bowl and sprinkled a bacon-heart on top.
It actually looked every bit of my aunt’s specialty, I thought, sucking the last blob of melted cheese off my finger. I was just halfway admiring my creation when my phone rang.
“I don’t know what the fuck is going on exactly between you and my sister right now, but I can sense it’s gone real shitty,” yelled Katie Fitch on the other end of the line as soon as I swiped my finger on my phone screen. “Emily sounds so miserable on the phone lately and her Facebook posts are getting too emo for my own good. I haven’t seen her smile in weeks. She sounds like she’s in hell.”
I placed the phone between my shoulder and ear so that I could talk to her on the phone whilst taking my apron off. “It’s been a hard day, Katie. I wish you’d just—”
“Oh, no, you don’t.” I could imagine Katie’s death glare. “We’re going to talk.”
“Sounds to me like you intend to do the talking, and I’m just supposed to listen. Look, Katie, I’m not up for this.”
“Well, you’re not making it any easier on yourself, bitch,” Katie scolded. “Or on the rest of us.”
I pinched at the bridge of my nose then sighed. Jesus. There was absolutely no use in trying to stop Katie when she had something to say. I clutched the phone with my hand again and said wearily, “I guess I’m not going to get any fucking peace until I hear you out. All right, then. Spill it.”
“Naomi darling,” Katie made her voice soothing as she changed track as smoothly as a sailboat in a light breeze, but you can catch the sarcasm. “I don’t like you. I think you’re shitty for my sister. I think you’re a despicable cow. I think you will just emotionally terrorise her and break her heart. I think you’re bad news. I think you’ll just put Emily through hell.”
My jaw tightened as anger crept over me. “Gee, thank you for the love. Really, it’s touching, Katiekins. But if you think—”
“Those,” she cut me off, “were my thoughts three years ago. Three. Years. Ago,” she emphasised per word. “What I’m trying to say is . . . I’ve seen how Emily changed. I’ve witnessed how she became this better version of herself. I’ve seen her grow. I’ve seen her bloom. I’ve seen her get tougher, get bolder—all because of you.”
Unsure of how to respond, I said nothing. My chest now tightened as guilt took over anger. In the awkward-ish silence, Katie sighed.
“I know and I believe that you genuinely love Emily. I’ve seen you fight for her. I can’t imagine anyone else as stupid as that—standing up before me.”
Leaning weakly against the kitchen counter, I stayed silent and just waited for Katie to continue.
“The truth is . . . I’ve always thought you were an incredible person, Naomi. I’ve always believed in you. I’ve always been amazed by your bad-assness. If there is one person who would fight for Emily harder than me, it is you. I just know it.”
Again I could only stare down at the kitchen floor in response. I couldn’t believe it was Katie Fitch on the other end of the line, showering me with praises when in fact I’d been really shitty.
“You might think I’m not rooting for you, but I am. I really am, honest,” she went on. “I trust your love for Emz, Naomi. You’ve been wonderful for her. Do you know how much that means to me? Knowing how much you love my sister? You have no idea how much comfort that gave me over the years.”
I did not dare say anything, because I was sure my voice would quaver. And never in my entire life was it my plan to expose my vulnerable side to Katie Fitch. Never.
“I love Emily. Like legitly,” said Katie fiercely. “I may have enjoyed insulting her and bossying her around and making her cry every now and then like a proper cow, but I seriously love that girl. I don’t know what I’d do without my sister.” She paused. “You would know. Because I know you feel and do the same thing, too.”
Something in my chest panged hard. It’s kind of surreal that I was having this sort of conversation with Katie but she was right about every single thing. First about my love for Emily and second, about what an ass I’d been to my girlfriend. I took a deep breath before answering. “I love her, Katie. I love her so fucking much. She’s the only part of me I couldn’t lose. I think sometimes I just tend to sabotage our relationship because I love her too much. I don’t know what to do with such love, you know what I mean? I always just fuck things up.”
“What are you doing now?” she asked, abruptly changing her tone.
“Preparing a little dinner for Emily,” I mumbled.
“That’s a good start, missy,” said Katie encouragingly.
I stared at the bowl of mac and cheese and snorted a chuckle. “Christ. I even made this pathetic-looking heart made of bacon bits.”
“Nice touch.” Katie let out a titter.
I straightened up then moved quickly back to the stove with eager feet. “I just feel like things have really gone out of hand and I want to sew us back together.”
“You’re bloody well right. And that means you have some serious stuff to do.”
“I know.” I began taking the tender potatoes out of the pot. “I want things to be okay again between me and Ems, Katie. And I’m going to keep it that way. This time, I really mean it.”
Then as I started getting busy on the soup, Katie expressed her final sentiments, “Listen, I know how cute my sister looks bawling her eyes out,” she began. “But please, for Emily’s sake . . . Naomi, please get it right. Please.”
Get it right, I mulled over the words, after pocketing my phone.
I was definitely going to need something tasty to repair that particular bridge. It also has to be quick, because I have a lot of ground to cover before Emily walks away again.
And when my girlfriend comes home, I have enough time to get started on the truth.
After making the macaroni and cheese, cream of potato soup and salad in the kitchen, I texted Emily another message since she still wasn’t answering her phone.
In the bedroom, I arranged the food on a small, low table and decorated it with some blue rose petals and scented candles. I laid out some clothes on the bed and headed back out into the shower. The warm water was luxurious. I shaved my legs, forcing myself not to rush so I wouldn’t nick myself, washed and conditioned my hair, and finally stepped out and dried off.
After sending Emily another text and trying to ring her, I played “Make You Feel My Love” by Adele and put it on speakers—just the right mellow, soothing volume. I knew Emily loved the song. On quiet nights as we lay under the stars, she would play the song and we’d just cuddle together. Just as I was reminiscing, I got a text from Misaki telling me that Emily swung by her apartment and had just left to go back to the dorm. The thought of her coming home to me filled my heart with such gladness. I couldn’t wait to see the look of surprise on her face as soon as she opens the door.
I just can’t wait to get it right.
I stopped in front of a shrine
just a block away from our dormitory, sat on a bench, and started massaging my
feet. I was beginning to feel really shaky. I’d been walking in circles around the block, not really
moving closer to the dorm. Despite the fluttering butterflies in
my tummy, I still dreaded going back there and facing my
girlfriend. I wasn’t sure how things would turn out after tonight. But somehow,
when you absolutely can’t bear things any more, something else always seems to
happen—and at that moment, my mobile rang.
“Hey,
sweetheart! How’s it going?” Dad’s jolly tone somewhat annoyed me.
“Now’s
sort of not a proper time, Dad,” I grumbled, rubbing at my forehead, suddenly
regretting that I had pressed Answer.
“I’m kind of having a sitch, sorry.”
“I
know, dear. That’s exactly why I called.”
“It’s
been crazy.”
“I know
all about crazy. I’m married to your mother, remember?”
I
laughed a little at this. “How do you deal with it? I mean, how do you put up
with all her craziness, Dad?”
“I love
her. That’s the best explanation,” answered Dad simply.
“Did it
come to a point when you thought you’ve had enough?”
“Well,
yes. Many times. Especially when we were newlyweds. We would fight all the
time. Your mum hated my snoring and the smell of my post-workout sweat. She was
really moody and hostile when she was pregnant with you and Katie. It was hard
to be around her.”
“Did
you ever want to leave her?”
“Like,
for real ‘leave her’? No. Not ever.”
“But
you almost broke up once, right? You told us about that one time you left Mum
for six days and stayed at your best mate’s bachelor flat in Paris.”
“Well,
yes. I was young. I didn’t like the feeling of being trapped. Your mum’s a bit
of a control-freak, a nag. ‘Don’t do this, don’t do that.’ And I got fed up. I
needed a break.”
“But
was it ever the same when you came back?”
“Well,
it definitely turned sour. Then it got better. Then it became okay. I guess I
got used to all of it. We both did.”
“So
it’s okay? I mean, all her craziness is okay?”
“Well,
your mum’s craziness is tolerable, Emily,” Dad replied. “I mean, she might like
being the dominant one all the time but I’ve found out that I actually like
giving in to her. I’m just happy submitting. And I realised I couldn’t be as
submissive to anyone else. She is my weakness. That’s something only your
mother could do to me so it meant she really is the real deal.”
I felt
my mouth curling up in a little smile. “I guess I got that from you. The
passion for ‘submitting’.”
Then
Dad suddenly spoke in a low half-whisper voice. “Don’t tell your sister,” he
began, “but you’re my favourite, Emily. I see myself in you. And they say we’re
wimpy? They say we’re weaklings? Christ, I’ve lived with your mother for
twenty-three years! And you’ve stayed with Naomi for three years! And we’re
still alive. We’re tough cookies, ey?”
This
made me laugh. “Yea, I guess we are, Dad,” I agreed. God, I suddenly missed my
dad.
Now
that I try to look back, it’s just so unbelievable how I survived being with
Naomi Campbell. Naomi did give me a hard time but I loved how she challenged me,
how she dared me to be better, how she taught me to confront my fears. People
who aren’t close to me probably don’t have any idea how I was before I met
Naomi Campbell. I’ve definitely changed a lot because of her.
“Listen,
dear,” Dad cleared his throat, “I know how tough it is. But if it’s worth the
shot, if it’s worth giving a second chance, then you better hold on,” he said sensibly.
“We’re experts on mindfucking, emotionally-draining circumstances anyway, yea?”
I bit
down on my lip, slightly unsure. “But how do I know if it’s really worth it?”
After a
few seconds of silence, he asked, “What do you love about Naomi?”
“Dad,
that’s embarrassing,” I protested.
“C’mon,
just tell me,” he prodded.
I
thought about it. “Well, there are a lot, actually,” I started, “I love her one
thousand smiles. Her blue eyes drive me crazy. I love it when she bites her
lip. I love her smell—the scent of lilies. I love when she puts her hand on my
lap. I love her massages and—” I suddenly stopped, snapping my mouth shut, unsure
if I should go on. This was just incredibly awkward.
“Go on,”
Dad egged on. “I’m listening.”
After a
soft sigh, I went on, “I love it when she pinches my chin. I love her
cooking—Gosh, her cream of potato soup and pancakes are mouthwatering. I love
her sarcasm. I love the feeling that crawls through my veins whenever I’m
kissing her. I love when she sing-songs my name. I love knowing that she’s
happy whenever she’s bossying me around. I love her cranky face.” I smiled as
an image of Naomi’s grumpy face popped in my head. “I love it when she gets
impatient and so stubborn sometimes. I fucking love it when she gets jealous even over the
silliest things. I love how sometimes she will insult me and all I can do is
just smile. I love watching her sleep in my arms. I love waking up to her
beautiful face every morning. It amazes me how she carries her flaws—it’s
actually what makes her closest to perfection.” I paused for a moment,
reflecting some more. “I love how she’s overprotective of me. I admire her
passion for certain things. I love that she makes me feel like I can do
anything, that she could bring out the best and worst in me. God, I even love
it when she fucks with my mind.” I felt my face turning scarlet and I slightly
hid my face with a hand as if my dad could see me. People say I have this
strange glow on me whenever I start talking about Naomi. Halo said I look
lovedrunk every time. I shook my head. “Christ, I can’t believe I just told you
all that, Dad.”
I heard
the amusement in Dad’s voice. “Just hold on to all those when you’re feeling
doubt, dear,” he said. “And frankly, from the way it sounds, seems like she’s
worth it, Emily. Naomi’s really worth it.”
I bit
my lower lip for some moments, merely smiling, then finally said, “Thanks for
calling, Dad. I really love our heart-to-heart talks. I seriously missed you.”
“Anytime,
my sweet girl.”
“I love
you, Dad.”
“I love
you, too,” he returned before hanging up.
When the
call ended, the alert showing I had unheard voicemails came into sight. I decided
to finally check them out. I pressed the play button by Naomi’s name.
“I’m
sorry, Emily, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”
Crap. Naomi’s
distressed tone instantly caused this sharp pain in my chest.
“I’m
sorry, Ems. It's just that – I’m afraid to lose you . . . I can feel that
you’re slipping away from me. And I just can’t let that happen. I won’t allow
it. Emily, please, just give me another chance. I promise I’ll be better. I’m
sorry, babe. Come back to me and I swear I . . . I’d do anything for us to be
okay again. I’d do anything to make you stay. Just please, Em. Don’t give up on
us. Please give us one more shot. I love you . . .”
God, I hated hearing Naomi like
this. I just couldn’t bear it.
I put my earphones in again and stared up. The sky was thick with stars. And I found the
Big Dipper and Orion the Hunter. The flashing lights of an airplane moved
beneath them. My stomach grumbled as I absently
plucked on the petals.
♫ I don’t love you
But I always will
Oh, I don’t love you ♫
Uh-oh. The last petal came off
as wrong.
Quickly I picked another flower up from
the ground and began the petal elimination all over again.
♫ But I always will ♫
Absorbing the lyrics of the
song, I was taken back to that moment with Thomas under the waiting shed during
that one exasperating, hellish rainy day when my brain was stuffed with spiderwebs.
He talked about the dichotomy of love. That while it could drive you crazy and
destroy you, love could also be the very same thing that resurrects and
nourishes you. It was the brutal truth about relationships—it’s a dangerous
macabre dance, a beautiful tug o’ war. And ours was not an exception.
I let the words trickle from my
lips and the petals glide in the air one by one as I sung along with the song.
“I don’t love you
But I always will
I don’t love you
But I always will . . .”
I stood up and started walking
again, now with a destination in mind.
I softly sang to myself with my raspy voice as I pulled the petals off one by
one.
“I don’t love you
But I always will . . .
Down to a few petals.
I always will
I always will . . .
Last three . . .
I always will . . .
Last two . . .
I always will . . .
A smile curved my lips as I
reached the last petal.
. . . I always will.”
The first thing I was going to
do was slip on those furry slippers. My feet were going to need them after this
grueling hike. Then I would run to Naomi, grab her by the waist and kiss
the life out of her.
I couldn’t wait to fly back into my girlfriend’s
arms and start all over again. This time
it will be different, I decided. It
will be.
“She still loves me. She loves me not. She still loves me. She loves me not . . .”
One by one the blue rose petals fell from my fingertips onto the polished cherry floor. It was my idea to sprinkle the room with flowers. Emily loved the smell and the sight of them.
“She still loves me. She loves
me not. She still loves me . . .”
I
stared at the massive photo collage on the wall just above Emily’s giant pile
of books. Pictures I had taken of me and Emily. Sweet, precious, tranquil moments
that seemed to have taken place hundreds of weekends long ago. God, I miss just
being with Emily. I looked out the window at the quiet, empty tree-lined street.
Not a hint of bright red hair drawing nearby. Damn. What was taking Emily so
long? I wondered a bit anxiously. It’s almost midnight and she still isn’t
home.
On the queen-sized bed were a new pair of denim shorts and a low-cut salmon pink top. Emily liked me wearing
shorts. I’d chosen my outfit carefully—not too casual, yet not too formal. I
dressed and then slipped on a pair of silver heart-shaped stud earrings that
matched our necklaces. Emily liked seeing my hair up because according to her
it made me look sophisticated and it made it easy for her to kiss my neck so I
arranged it up into a puffy bun style. Stepping in front of the mirror, I turned
from side to side, pleased with the way I look.
I checked my phone for a reply.
None. I tried calling her again. Still, the stupid voicemail.
“She loves me not. She still
loves me. She loves me not . . .”
What if Emily comes home and
tells me she’s had enough? What if she tells me she really loves me not? I already felt a catch in my throat, just thinking
about the prospect of not waking up next to Emily in the morning. I don’t know what would
become of me without my girlfriend. I really don’t. I might just die inside and wither away.
I set out some fragranced
candles throughout the room, making sure they were away from any inflammable
material. I wouldn’t want to risk starting another little light up.
“She still loves me. She loves
me not. She still loves me . . .”
I turned up the volume of the
music. Adele’s mellifluous music made things feel a bit heavier and gloomier, I
had no idea why. Or maybe it was just the absence of Emily. The room seemed
very quiet and very empty without her. Actually, my entire world was quiet and
empty without the redhead.
“She loves me not. She still
loves me. She loves me not . . .”
Paranoid
thoughts were eating me, but I had to divert my mind. Swiftly I
padded over to Emily’s desk, opened the topmost drawer, and took out a pad of neon-coloured
sticky notes. I was planning to write “Ceasefire?” on a Post-it and offer the huge container of mint chocolate chunk ice cream as
another olive branch to Emily.
As I moved to grab a black
marker, a piece of folded-up pink Post-it note fell to the floor. I picked it up,
unfolded, and read. The title immediately sent a jolt of shock shooting through
my body.
So it was finally happening. I was surrounded by
my worst fears. Air refused to leave my lungs. Little black dots floated in
front of my eyes. There was a loud roaring in my head. Panic welled up inside
me like a fucking geyser. Her Post-it was a closing statement, a segment ender.
Emily was going to break up with me.
My throat swelled. My eyes stung with hot tears,
and my lips started to tremble. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I couldn’t believe
Emily was dealing with things this way.
Hot tears raced down my cheeks, quiet sobs shook
my shoulders. No. No fucking way.
Other couples broke up. Other couples took breaks that turned into separations
that turned into complete ruin. But not us. We’d always been beyond that.
Immune somehow.
I
was beating for Emily, with Emily. Every muscle in me was clinging to the desk,
to never fall off this world. She was my everything. She
walks away, and I dissipate into
nothingness. Black, hollow, cold nothingness.
Through watery eyes and
with a big lump in my throat, I
read the title of the list again. Postbreakup.
Break up.
No fucking way.
Suddenly a click on the door knob was heard, but
I couldn’t muster up the strength to face her. I couldn’t
even wipe my tears. My
heart pounded wildly in my chest. My eyes were puffy from crying. Emily was
back. And she was ready to deliver the bad news.
I wasn’t sure I was as ready, though.
I opened the door into our room. As my eyes
adjusted to the faint lighting, I found myself unable to turn away. Nor could I
find my voice. Instead, I stared wordlessly at my girlfriend, trying to sort
through the jumble of emotions that began to crowd my heart.
Naomi was standing by my desk with her back to
me. But despite that, I couldn’t help but notice how stunning she was. Her hair
was tied up in a stylish bun so gorgeously, making her
smooth nape stand out. And she had on a new pair of black denim shorts that had
instantly topped the Naomi Campbell sexy shorts chart. Every ounce of her was
flawless.
I looked around and began to make use of my
other senses. The room that had been transformed into this romantic hideaway
smelled all sorts of sweet, flavourful and scrumptious things.
♫ The storms are raging on the rolling
sea and on the highway of regret ♫
The music being played was my favourite, too,
and at that moment I felt overwhelmed with warmth. The table for two, the lit
candles, the blue roses were just breathtaking. Everything
was
enough to render me speechless.
♫ I could make you happy, make your
dreams come true . . . ♫
This was going to be a long night, I decided. A
long, intense night.
“Naomi,” I breathed. “This is . . . this is
just . . .”
She turned, but her
eyes were trained down on the floor. Normally I could judge Naomi’s moods by
the flick of an eyelash, but now I wasn’t sure if she looked angry or hurt or
ill. I clenched the keys in my fist so tightly as my stomach
tightened and a terrifying chill took over me.
I swallowed lightly and croaked, “Naomi?”
The blonde looked up at me
then, her eyes red and puffy, her face pale. “I just want to know why,” she said in a trembling voice. Hurt was clear in her eyes, despite the dimly lit
room.
I stood frozen in the threshold, feeling the tears
well in my own
eyes although I thought she wasn’t making any sense. I simply just felt her pain.
“Why?” Naomi repeated, her
voice high and tearful. Adding to the hurt, soft anger now
brimmed her eyes. “Why,
Emily?”
I stared at her dumbly. “Why?” I
searched her
face for an answer. I was clueless. Helplessly clueless. And frustrated.
“Why you’re breaking up with me,”
Naomi finally revealed, throwing
her head back as if those words were the hardest she had to say
ever,
the candle lights glinting in her eyes. “Why? At least, tell me
why, Emily.”
I blinked and
stared on, completely stumped.
“I am?”
“Tell me why before you
tell me it’s over.”
I shook my head in
puzzlement. “Naomi, what are you on about, exactly?”
“I found this.” The
blonde
held up a pink Post-it
note with
a trembling hand.
I grew pale and stared at the piece of paper for
a moment. Then it hit me. It was the list I made during that
one drunken night in Keith’s Pub. Thank God Misaki snatched it from my hand
before I could keep on writing down more stupid stuff that I would surely
regret I had written.
“Naomi, please listen,” I implored, and took a step toward
her.
“Don’t come any closer,” she warned in a feeble voice. A single tear slipped down her cheek, followed
quickly by another and another, leaving shimmery streaks along her flawless
face.
“Did you . . .” I paused as if unable to
comprehend what I was about to say. “Did you think I was going to break up with
you?”
The blonde nodded. Then her shoulders shook as more tears soundlessly raced down her cheeks.
Flustered, she wiped them right away. I took a couple
of careful steps closer to her, stopped and stared on. Christ. I hated seeing her
like this.
We locked eyes for a long, silent moment until Naomi
sobbed openly as she leant helplessly on my desk, and a few tears
streaked down the sides of my own face. Watching my queen cry like this
was ruinous to my poor soul. She looked like all her whole
world
was crumbling from underneath her.
As though in a trance Naomi
shook
her head, slowly at first, then more vigorously. “No,” she said quickly, too
quickly. “No.” Her eyes blinked several times, then journeyed around the room
aimlessly, focusing on nothing. “Tell me this is a joke. No—”
Swiftly I took two long
strides toward my girlfriend, making my way across the sprinkle of blue rose petals on the floor, and carefully
took hold of her
shoulders in my hands. “Look at me,” I demanded softly, trying to find her gaze. “Naomi—”
She shook her head. “No—”
“Naomi, please let me
explain.”
At that, she broke down, her
sobs coming out in heavy bursts. She leant toward me, aching for me to hold
her, and when she felt my hands
on her back, she began to cry even harder.
She gripped me tighter,
and I
pulled her closer into me, giving the top of her head a
long, pacifying kiss. Then I drew back whilst my
pulse hammered in my veins and my gaze connected to her wide, distraught
blue eyes. Those soulful blue eyes.
“Naomi, it’s okay,” I
whispered low. “It’s okay, babe.”
I’d half-expected her to shove me away, but she
didn’t. She started to cry some more. “Don’t do this, Emily,”
she begged in a whisper. “Don’t leave me.”
I stroked her smooth golden hair, rubbing her back as she rested her head against my
shoulder. I heard her breathy sobs and held her harder, my own tears trickling
silently from my eyes.
“No, no, no, baby. You got it wrong.” The scent of wildflowers drifted off her
skin, as sweet as daisies and as delicate as lilies. I pulled
back and, again, looked directly into her confused eyes. “You got it wrong,
I swear,” I said, shaking my head. “I thought you were going to break up with me. I
was just preparing myself for it.”
At this, Naomi drew back
a little, her brows
crinkling
with disbelief. “Have you lost your mind?” she blurted. “I love you more than
life itself, Emily.”
“I’m sorry,” I
said softly, cupping her beautiful face in my hands and caressingly stroking
her damp cheeks with my thumbs.
“It
was just a stupid spur of the moment thing. I was angry and hurt and drunk. I’m so
sorry.” I pulled her into my arms again, wrapping her in my warmth
as Adele crooned on.
♫ I could hold you for a million years
to make you feel my love . . . ♫
“Don’t fucking do that again, okay?” Naomi
blurted into my shoulder,
sniffling.
“So not funny.”
I cuddled her tight against my shoulder and
stroked the hair back from her face and kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry, babe.
It’s just—I didn’t mean any of that. I swear. I was drunk out of my mind, pissed off
and quite
emotional when I wrote that list, okay?”
“I got scared,” Naomi mumbled rather vulnerably into the crook of my neck.
“I know,” I said, quickly fixing
her bun that had gone loose. “But
it’s a mistake. It’s all right now.”
“Yea, but I was scared.”
“Shh . . . It’s alright, babe. We’re gonna be alright.”
We stood in quiet
comfort, arms wrapped around
each other, listening to the song’s
sweet instrumental, until we both could draw a clean breath.
Then Naomi drew back, sat on the desk table,
to look me seriously in the eye and pointed a finger at
my nose.
“I will kick your pretty butt
if you do that again, Emily Fitch. You hear me?”
Her hands landed on my waist as I leant forward
to her then rested my hands on her knees. I looked at her, stifling laughter.
Her brows arched up. “You
hear me?” she repeated, now more forceful.
I did a salute, my cheeks blushing. “Aye aye.”
She snorted a tear-filled laugh. “Come here, you
little—urgh.”
She curled one hand around my neck and pulled me to
her. “It’s
not funny, okay?”
With a toothy grin, “I
know. I’m sorry.”
Naomi pulled my head
closer to her and planted a soft kiss on my lips. “God, you’re lucky you’re the
sexiest woman alive or I would’ve done some nasty things to you for almost
giving me a heart attack.” Her other hand began gliding up along my back in the most erotic way, giving me goose bumps.
Nasty things, really. I dared her with my eyes and brows.
Naomi shook her head. “No.
That can wait.”
I reached
out to toy with her earlobe, then
skimmed my finger down the
side of her throat. She let out a soft moan. “Really?”
Suddenly she
straightened up and moved away from the desk as if trying to fan away the intensifying
heat between us.
I continued
staring teasingly at her with my big eyes, and her eyes narrowed into slits of
desire. That Hungry Naomi look was back.
“Really?” I repeated
huskily, smirking.
“No. Not
really.” She laughed, her flushed face told me that I had indeed activated
something in her.
I laughed as well, then
shook my head. “Christ,
like what the fuck came
to my mind to even think of writing such list? I’m such a loser. I’m a fucking
loser, alright.”
Smiling gently, Naomi
petted me. “N’aww, babe. How
can you be a loser when you’ve won my heart?”
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 could hold it no longer. I burst out laughing at the exact same
moment that Naomi lost it too.
“Naomi!” I gasped, “Naomi, that’s just—” I
struggled for breath in between laughter, “that’s like the corniest thing
ever!” I doubled over, laughing.
“Shut up,” Naomi muttered, flushing some more.
“Naomi! What a way to kill the
moment, babe.
Eek!” I made gagging faces whilst my body shook helplessly with laughter, and
the blonde took my shoulders as if trying to stop me.
She couldn’t help but chuckle at my reaction.
“Shut up, Emily,” she mock scolded, shaking me by the shoulders. “Shut up.”
I kept on snickering. “Naomi—!”
“Stop now, Emily,” she grounded out, trying not
to laugh. “Stop.”
I couldn’t, and she had no choice but to lean
over and claim my mouth. The laughing came to a halt. When her tongue finally
met mine I lost control. I grabbed her hips and pulled her against me, sliding
my thigh between her legs, moving my hands down to her butt. She bit my lip,
sucking it into her mouth and the keys fell
off my
fingers. The kiss heated up quite quickly to the point that I was pushed back
and bent backward over the desk,
knocking several piles of books.
Hoisting me up the desk, Naomi positioned
herself between my parted legs and outlined my collarbone with her mouth. She
found the skin beneath my top and she drew her nails up my sides hard. I let
out a grunt. Then it became a gasp when she found my breasts, her thumbs doing
their sweet, torturous work. I tore my lips from hers only to bite along her
neck down to her collarbone.
My stomach grumbled loudly, making us both stop
dead. Then we burst into fits of laughter again.
Naomi shook her head as her laughter subsided.
“The tummy has spoken,” she said. “Time for midnight dinner.” She grinned.
“Yep,” I said, then smiled tentatively. “And we
still need to . . .”
“Talk. Yes.” Naomi nodded with a gentle smile,
then she took my hand and led me toward the table for two. “It’s about time.”
I watched our intertwined fingers as she slowly
tugged me. I was happy that she was finally letting me in. It was one more step
in the right direction. For both of us.
“Babe,” I started hesitatingly, and Emily gazed at me
with those big, lovely chocolate brown eyes of hers, “I apologise in advance ‘cos I’m not going to
spare you the corny-apology scene. This has to happen. I’m sorry, Emily.” It
was the best I could think of to say as I faced the redhead at the table. “I’m so, so, so sorry. I feel horrible
because it’s my fault that you’ve gone through all that—” I paused to think of
the perfect word for it, “—madness.”
Emily carefully put her fork down on the
plate and finished chewing the last bit of her mac and cheese before answering,
“I don’t know. You were so . . . gone. I mean, you were off
at Melbourne and out there in Africa doing all these heroic acts and all that,
but you were also so . . .” a sad expression spread across my girlfriend’s
beautiful face, “. . . so apart from me, Naomi. You hardly ever wrote back, almost never
answered my calls. The ‘I love you’s became more scarce as time passed. I couldn’t take being shut out like that. You’ve left me with
no other option but to fear the worst.”
“But, Ems. You don’t realise how—”
“I know.” Emily held up a dismissive hand. “You had a lot on your
plate and were
really stressed, I know. Look, I hate it that I’ve become so clingy. You know me. I know it says in my
horoscope, but I’d never wish to be like that. But I guess I’m not just . . .
strong enough or something.” She gave a timid shrug.
The redhead stared down at her empty plate, her face a mask of lines, and all I could
do was watch her. I hated seeing her like this. And I was the fucking cause.
“You were pulling away from me,” Emily went on quietly, absently flicking at
the corner of her table napkin, “and that was when things started to go for the worse.”
“No,” I said in defence, and Emily instantly looked up. Tiny tears of hurt were crammed in her
eyes. I felt my face flush with guilt right away, and I backtracked. “Well . . . you’re
right but also . . . there was this agonising long period of time when you were
so cold and uncaring, Em. You always sounded like you hated my guts every time
I called. And that annoyed me a lot ‘cos I wanted to reach out and be sweet to
you and you just kept pushing me away.”
A huge silence settled between us. Pressing her lips together, the
beautiful redhead reached for her glass of wine and took a, what seemed like to
me, calming sip.
I shifted on the floor cushion and wrapped my arms around my waist, hugging myself for warmth and
strength to seep into me. Emily’s silence was making my heart hammer and I was
scared to lose her again, so fucking scared. After
a few seconds I heard Emily sigh, and that’s better than her total
silence, but I wished she would say something,
and when she did at last, I
felt relieved because she still sounded
calm and benign.
“You practically abandoned me, remember?” she
reminded me. “How did you expect me to behave? For an awfully long time, you’ve
kept me in the dark. And you know I hate the dark.”
It was my turn to be quiet. I couldn’t argue against
this one because I knew Emily was right. The flaw was predominantly in me,
undoubtedly. As much as I hated to admit it, I was the one who started creating
this wedge between us.
“I hate this,” the redhead went on in a thick voice. “I hate that
you’ve been gone for, like, three months and we just crumbled. I don’t get it.”
“I know.” Lips trembling, I tore my eyes away from the redhead, and
lowered my head. If I continued to look at her, I knew I’d burst into tears. It
was all there in her eyes—the disappointment, the frustration, the ache. The
guilt was so fucking powerful, I could hardly breathe. I had the distinct
feeling I was sinking down through the earth.
For a moment no one said anything and we both only sipped on our wine
and nibbled green grapes. Across from me, Emily gently shook her glass of wine
over and over, never lifting her eyes from the table. I knew we were both lost
in our thoughts. After a while, I looked up and simply watched as Emily stared
down at the dark liquid in her goblet. God, I seriously
hated seeing her like this.
Then finally Emily’s head came up and she looked at me,
more sadness in her eyes. “It’s just so ridiculous and weird that we’ve survived
almost a year of being apart once,” she broke the silence with a sad tone.
“And after this . . .”
“I know. We both became dysfunctional,” I put in sadly,
fingering the heart-shaped gem of the bracelet around my wrist. “Thing is, I could have called and written
you at times, Em. I just . . . didn’t. I don’t know why.”
She took a swallow of wine, then looked over
her glass at me. “Really, you don’t know why?”
I glanced away then turned back to her. “Well, I do. To some
extent,” I admitted over the lump in my throat. When the redhead seemed like
she was in need of an explanation, I straightened up. “We don’t have the same dreams, Emily. And I’m
terrified, so terrified that the time would come and that reality
would just be emphasised. And you’ll end up being torn.” Emily stayed silent,
waiting for me to continue. I shrugged. “I guess I did it because I wanted to
protect you. I wouldn’t want you in the position of choosing for me or you knowing that
I got sort of stuck in a jam. I know you, Emily. I know how you over-think things. It would only
stress you a lot. Like I said, I just thought that it would be easier if I
stayed away or hid things from you . . .”
“You think I don’t know this?” Emily reacted at length, surprising me
a little. “I know how crazy jumbled things have gotten in your mind, Naomi. And I felt it. I felt it with you all along. When you were out there it was as if you
were a different person. It’s like I don’t know you anymore. And each minute
that passes by that we’re apart, it makes that distance between us, that
unfamiliarity so much more terrifying.”
I felt a crumpling sensation inside me, but I had to explain, “I
suppose it was just easier that way somehow. I couldn’t handle missing you all
the time, so I just didn’t deal with it. At all. And I couldn’t tell you about
things, because I didn’t want to see your reaction.”
Emily leant forward with uncharacteristic boldness, placing the
palms of her hands on the tabletop. “See, that’s exactly how you leave me in
the dark, Naomi,” she pointed out evenly. “I couldn’t help but think that you
enjoy doing this to me. But I hate it. I hate it a lot. I hate feeling unsure,
you know what I mean? It sucks feeling wobbly. I turn into an idiot when that
happens. That’s the same reason why I’ve made so many stupid decisions. I just hate it. And I hate
myself for being this weak and sensitive, Naomi. It’s just that I need you to put my mind at
rest.”
“I know.” Her words seemed to tear right through me, but in a way,
everything started to make sense. A sad, awful sense. Why Emily picked another
girl over me once upon a time was mainly because I couldn’t provide her that
sense of security she had talked about.
Emily only took a sip of her
wine and looked at me. At this I felt helpless again. “I’m sorry,” I
said again. “I’m sorry for constantly putting your mind in this sort of shitty
circus. But I’m doing everything I can to correct my ways. I
won’t let anything come between us, Emily. Not anymore,” I promised, and she sighed again before
looking at me sincerely.
“I’m glad to know that,” said Emily. “Because
I don’t understand why things get so difficult for us and there are rubbish
issues that you allow to tear us apart, because frankly for me, Naomi, nothing
else matters when I’m with you. I repeat, nothing.”
I bit down on my trembling lip before I managed a response. “I know, I know. I got confused, Em. I mean, I’ve been constantly confused.
There were just so many things popping up and maybe I’d just assumed you’ll always be
there. I didn’t realise you were hurting, too.”
Emily reached across the low table and
squeezed my hand. “Because
I care about you, Naomi. I love you. Of course, I would know by the sound of
your voice that you’re going through something. But I don’t care. I want to be
involved in your life—good times and bad. I want to be there for you, you know.”
“I know. And I feel just as devastated by our lack of connection as you
are,” I said, putting my other hand on top of hers. I took a
deep breath. “But
I’ll do anything to make us work, Emily. I want to change what I can still
change. Just tell me what I have to do.” Those words made her face soften and
relax.
Straight away, she answered, “I want you to stop watching me as
though I was going to fall apart.”
I gave her hand a soft squeeze, wishing this
would make her believe me. “Done. What else?”
“I want you to tone down your stubbornness.”
“Okay.” I stroked the top of her hand with a loving thumb.
“Anything else?”
“I want you to swear you won’t keep anything from me, no matter how
much you think it will upset me.”
“Deal, and same goes.”
Then Emily suddenly pulled away and got up, leaving me unsettled. She
moved toward the balcony sliding doors, and stood looking out at the huge moon—arms crossed over her chest, one hand holding
her wineglass.
I caught sight of her reflection in the clear glass door, and sighed wearily. For
a long, silent moment, I watched the intensity of Emily’s face in the moonlight.
“You’re still angry,” I said at length, reading her emotions.
The redhead didn’t turn around to look at me, just stayed staring out
the sliding door and taking little sips of her wine. “Yea, I’m still angry,” she replied
forthrightly, then shrugged helplessly. “I guess you drive me crazy.”
Her eyes met mine in the sliding glass and sizzled. She jerked her gaze
away and silently sipped on. “You still want me,” I said, stating the
obvious, which in turn made her go red.
After a few seconds Emily looked at me with her flushed
face,
half-frustrated and half-smiling, and nodded. “God, yes, I want you. And I have
a lot of reasons why I still do.”
I couldn’t help but smile as well. Grabbing the bottle
of wine and my own glass, I rose from my seat, walked around the table and toward
my girlfriend but stopped a few metres from her. “Are we okay now?”
Emily shook her head. “Not really. I’m still in love with an
over-possessive minger.” She turned around to face the door again.
“Good,” I said, slowly making my way to where she was standing and
joined her at the door. “‘Cos this minger’s still madly in love with you.”
Despite the tension, the redhead laughed without glancing back at me.
I took a small step closer to Emily, placed the bottle and my
glass of wine
on a nearby table, and when she turned to face me, I slipped my arms around her
waist.
I could sense Emily’s hair standing as I pulled back and looked into her brown eyes and said, “I love you, Emily. I love you so much. More than you’ll ever know. You’ve made me
happier than anyone could possibly be. I don’t ever want to give that up. I
can’t. Can you understand that?” Then I gently held my palm to her cheek, studying
her. “You know how much I love you, right?”
The redhead nodded.
With that, I took her hands, holding them in
a gentle clasp. “I wanted to say a lot of things, but,” I bit my lip, “but I don’t
know where to start. The whole week—the
whole three months, to be exact, is churning about in my head, from the dreadful start of
it right up to this very moment, but I can’t put it into words,”
I said, and suddenly both of us were tearing up. “I just want to
start taking care of what we have. I love you, Emily. And I only want to keep
on loving you. So please let me. Please
let me get it right.”
We stared right at each other’s red nose for
a silent moment until a giggle burst out of Emily’s mouth and I started giggling
too. And we laughed on and I pinched her chin. And it felt wonderful having
this sort of silly, crying moment again with my girlfriend.
I snorted a tear-filled laughter and wiped my
drenched cheeks with my hands. “God, we really are so girly, aren’t we?”
She laughed at this. “Yea, we are,” her
finger gently traced the slope of my nose then tapped me lightly on the tip, “You, especially.”
“Shut up,” I muttered in mock seriousness.
Emily hooked her arms around my neck and
playfully tugged on a hank of my hair. “You love causing drama, babe. And
you’re the mushiest of all mushies. You have to admit that, at least. I mean,
I’m just here putting up with all of it. But you start all the drama.”
“Shut up, Emily,” I ground out, giving her red nose a gentle
pinch and she only stuck out her tongue in response. “By the way, I sort of had an enlightening
conversation with your sister earlier,” I suddenly blurted.
Her brows rose in curiosity. “Really? What’s she said?”
“She worships me.”
Emily drew back and a short chuckle escaped her lips. “Don’t fucking joke.”
“I swear, she does.”
“No way,” she said, her voice high-pitched
and highly amused.
“Yes way. It’s true. I talked to her on the phone
earlier and she confessed her undying love for me,” I said smugly. “And that’s
right after telling me that she used to have fantasies of crucifying me.”
Emily threw her head back and burst out laughing. Oh, God, that heavenly laugh.
“Jesus, why waste time harbouring such deep hatred on me?” I said with pretend
puzzlement.
Emily gave a cute, sad pout and a little
shrug. “Well,
you only stole her favourite toy away, what did you expect?”
Hearing that, I lowered my head to her eye
level. “You’re
not a toy,” I told her, poking my index finger at her chest. “Nobody owns you. People can only love and
take care of you, but you are not anyone’s property, Emily.”
The redhead snorted a mocking chuckle. “Coming from
someone who named me 'MyEmily' in her phone contacts and whose visceral reaction is jealousy and possessiveness whenever she sees
me with another girl.”
“Enough with the nonsense.” I snatched her empty glass and refilled it with
wine, to
which she giggled. Jeez, this girl just loved teasing me. I gave Emily back her
goblet, grabbed my own half-full
glass from the table and raised it. “I think we owe ourselves a promise that we’re going to make this
work, Emily. Both of us. We have to swear to stick together, come heaven or hell. If
there’s something I’ve found out a couple of years ago, it’s that we’re bull
whales. We mate for life.”
She cocked her head at me and thought about it. “Bull whales . . .
nice analogy,”
she murmured thoughtfully. “So. To world peace?” She raised her glass blissfully and touched it to mine.
“To boiled peas,” I returned lightly,
and we both took a sip of our drink. I pulled her tight against me and noticed for the gazillionth time how my body
seemed to perfectly fit against hers. “God, this feels glorious.”
In spite of me, I felt tears in my eyes. This has definitely
turned into a perfect night. This moment was ours. I knew my smile was as happy
as Emily’s as we toasted and warmly held each other. When I took the wineglass from her hand and set both our glasses down, she joyfully went back into my arms.
Emily lifted a hand to toy with my hair. “It feels good that we’ve
talked and cleared the air, babe. Although, I was kind of excited on doing
something . . .”
“Do what?”
“Kiss your eye.”
We looked at each other then laughed.
I brought my forehead to hers, our noses
touching. Smiling,
I gave her a soft kiss on the lips then murmured, “Have
I ever told you I love you enough?”
She drew back. “I don’t know. Have you?”
“I love you,” I whispered, and as we stood in each other’s arms, I
realised how I’d never felt more sure about anything.
Emily’s pleased smile at that moment was
invaluable. “I
love you, too, Naomi,” she echoed. “I love, in fact, everything about you. The
way you laugh, the way you scowl, the way you giggle, the way you fight, the
way you insult me”—I grinned—“but most especially, the way you smile.” She leant close again, tracing the line of my lips with her finger. “You have a
thousand different smiles, Naomi Campbell. When you’re happy, you get these
little dimples right here.” She brushed along the edge of my cheek. “When
you’re laughing, your smile reaches all the way to your eyes. And when you’re
satisfied”—at that, the rumbling began in my veins—“your smile makes me feel
like I’m the only one in the world you’re looking at.”
I looked into her eyes, reading honesty in the deep chocolate colour.
“You really noticed all that?”
“Uh-huh. And a few other things,” her finger roamed over my jawline,
lingered, “like your kindness. Your determination. Your passion for things. And
I love you for all that you are.” She stood on the tips
of her toes. A
gentle finger lifted my chin and my flame-haired princess kissed me, then
kissed me again and again, leisurely exploring my neck and collarbone before
rising to meet my lips once more. Moving around the
room with controlled passion, we stayed welded by our ravenous mouths. I ran my hands over her shoulders, and when
she buried her fingers in my hair, I shivered, missing this so much.
With shadows highlighting her every movement, I watched as Emily
crossed her arms, reaching for the hem of her yellow top. With a single
movement, she pulled the top over her head. Then her hands drifted slowly
downward to the snap on her orange shorts. A moment later, she stepped out of
the crumpled pile at her feet.
I was entranced as she moved toward the bed and playfully pushed me
onto my back, causing my hair to come loose. She began to undo the buttons on
my blouse and pulled it over my shoulders. As I wiggled my arms free, she undid
the snap on my shorts, and a moment later, I felt the heat from her belly as it
slid against my own. Her body and lips felt right against mine, more right than
anything I’d ever known, like missing pieces in a puzzle finally coming
together.
Afterward, I lay beside a half-asleep Emily and said the words that had been echoing
inside my head all night. “I love you, Emily,” I whispered as I traced swirling
designs along the redhead’s upper back. “I love you with everything I fucking have. I could say this to
you a million times. I will never get tired, I swear.”
Emily’s eyes opened and she lifted her head
up. “Why couldn’t you say that to me a million times before?” she asked, her
voice cracking slightly.
I traced my finger down her cute nose. “I
wanted to. But I was afraid that saying it over and over again would make it
sound like a cliché when in fact I mean it.”
This made Emily smile—her knee-weakening
satisfied smile. “I
love you, too, Naomi, even though you’re such a pain in the neck sometimes,”
she rasped, and I let out a giggle. Then she looked me in the eye, serious, and said, “No, but seriously, I love you, Naomi. I
love you because loving someone else wouldn’t be as worth it.”
And upon hearing her words, I became sure that nowhere but in Emily Fitch’s arms was
where I was made to be.
“So before my dad, Katie and I
set up the tent, it was my job to clear away all the rocks,” I was telling
Naomi about my one and only camping trip with the family from
way back when as the blonde had already shared loads of fascinating
tales about her and her grandpa’s adventures. “I swear I went over the space
four times and picked up anything the size of a pebble. But then later that
night, when I finally crawled into my sleeping bag, there was this boulder the
size of a fucking loaf of bread right under my back.” I held out my hands to
estimate the size.
“Um. How’d you miss that, babe?”
Naomi asked, incredulous, and her cup of
espresso
suspended midway to her mouth.
“I had no bloody idea,” I replied, nibbling some potato fries. “And I barely slept. But sure
enough, when we rolled up the tent the next day, there was this huge mound
right where I’d been lying.”
“Wait,” Naomi said. “Tell me it
wasn’t a rock.”
I gave her my best deadpan
expression. “It was a turtle.”
Naomi’s sputtering laughter echoed
throughout Duke’s Diner, causing some of the diners at nearby tables to turn
and stare.
“You slept on a turtle
all night?” she blurted out. “Poor little
baby.”
I nodded, pouting sadly.
“Tell me about it. My back was sore for two weeks.”
“I meant the turtle!” the blonde
exclaimed, pelting me with a balled-up napkin that ricocheted into the middle
of the restaurant.
“Yea, yea. Take his side, you goof,” I said, pretending to rub my arm where the
napkin hit me.
The waiter-I-would-prefer-to-call-Dick
strode up to the table, grabbing the napkin from the floor. “Hi, Naomi-chan.
Nice to see you again,” he said, his eyes sparkling. Then his eyes flicked to
me and his grin faltered. I could feel mine fade, too. I was sure this guy was
out to lure his blond prey.
Naomi took
a quick gulp of her coffee then faked a full voltage grin. “Hey,
Toshi.”
Toshi
responded with an even bigger smile. “I wanted to
talk to you back there at the counter but the manager was keeping an eye on
everyone. You
look beautiful. As usual,” he drawled. I
was concentrating so hard on controlling my anger and keeping my cool. The bloke
was looking at my girlfriend like he’d never seen anything so rivetingly
beautiful in his life. “I could look at you all day.”
An awkward pause followed.
“Thanks.” Naomi glanced at me with a
weirded-out look. “I guess.” I only rolled my eyes and continued eating my
double-decker burger. I opted to not lose my cool this early although it
was obvious that this lad was treading on dangerous ground already. Besides,
it was quite entertaining to watch this guy try.
Toshi poured a
glass of water for Naomi. “What’s so funny? I can
hear you laughing nonstop from back there.”
I made a loud coughing sound. He
threw in an extra one for me.
“Just some
ridiculous stories,” Naomi casually replied, fixing her ponytail.
“Must be
extremely ridiculous for you to laugh like that,” Toshi said.
“Um. Yea,”
Naomi said, smiling as she sipped on her coffee cup. “Emily here has some of
the most hilarious epic fail moments.” It was noticeable that my girlfriend was
trying her best to be nice and polite to this bloke.
Toshi
chortled—a fake one—upon hearing this, then he turned back to Naomi. “So,” he suddenly harrumphed, “you two are okay now?
You two are back together?” He
glanced a bit disapprovingly at me.
Irritation crept up the back of my
neck. This was it. I put down my unfinished burger on the
plate. “I
would appreciate it if you mind your own business and quit hitting on my girlfriend,” I snapped. “And as you can see, me and my girlfriend
are doing just fine.”
I swore I saw his mouth curl down at
the corners. “Oh, so you really got back together,”
he said, seemingly surprised and upset at the same time.
I shot him an icy glare. “We never
broke up,” I said irritably, tipping back my chair so that I was balancing on
the hind legs. “We’re even stronger than ever, if you must know.”
His face fell all the more. “Oh,” he
mumbled, “Well, uhm—”
I slammed the front legs of my chair
down. “We’re having an intimate conversation here. Would you mind not
bothering us unless we need anything else?” I huffed and grabbed my burger for
another bite—a big, fierce one. “For Pete’s sake.”
Toshi’s face turned
as red as tomatoes. “Hai, wakarimashita
(Got it).” He awkwardly gave a slight nod and hurried to serve another table.
“No need to be so hostile, Em,”
Naomi whispered scoldingly once Toshi was out of earshot.
I scowled and held up a hand.
“Naomi, please don’t act dense. Did it happen to escape your attention that
that little bastard was trying it on you from day one?”
Naomi choked on a mouthful of food,
laughing. “What? No fucking way!”
“Yea, way,” I insisted, crossing my
arms over my chest. “I think he’s in love with you or something. Like majorly
obsessed with you.”
“No, he’s not.” Naomi
shook her head in utter denial. “He’s just friendly,” she said, then added two seconds after, “and appreciative.”
“Yea, like way too friendly and inappropriately appreciative. Please, Naomi.
He’s been shooting you lovey-dovey looks all afternoon. I’m even
sure he kept your used napkin to add it to his sicko creepy Shrine of My One and Only Naomi behind
his creepy trench coats in his creepy closet. And
let’s not forget he just told you he could look at you all day!”
“Whatever. You’re delusional.”
She rolled her eyes jokily and just chuckled to
herself. Then just as she was getting amused by my ‘delusion,’
Naomi’s eyes wandered to the counter and caught Toshi staring right at her in a
very creepy, pervy way. Then the blonde leant forward and her alarmed eyes went
back to me. “Oh, shit, you’re right, Em. He’s
fucking creepy.”
“I know. And pretty fucking devious.
I think he’s trying his best to devise a plot on
how to ruin us. I don’t trust him, babe. Seriously.
Like, I think he’s up to some shenanigans.”
Naomi gave a
shrug. “Yea,
well, he was actually the one who told me about your countless bowling dates
with Misaki. And he even—”
“He did?” I jumped up from my seat.
“Well this dickwad better run for escape now ’cos I’m going to kill him—”
“Emily!” She reached for my arm, but
I was quick. “Stop. No. Babe—”
“How dare he do that to us! That fucking bastard. He needs to be taught a lesson, alright,” I ground out.
As I was storming toward the
counter, Naomi was swiftly gathering our half-finished food and drinks
into a paper bag.
“Ems! Please,” she begged, hurrying after me.
I came up to the Japanese bloke
and faced him, hardening my gaze as best I could. “Toshi, I’m watching you.
Don’t you dare come anywhere near my girlfriend or you’re fucking dead meat. Got it?” I rasped out and he only
stared at me, scared-stiff. I longed to put my fist through his face. And it
took every ounce of my self-control not to do it. “I mean it. You’re gonna get
it. You’re gonna fucking get it.” I pounded a fist loudly on the countertop, making the guy jerk in fear.
Naomi gave an apologetic smile to
the startled staff before grabbing my arm and steering me out of the diner. The late summer air
outside was a bit crisp and Naomi wrapped her arm around my
shoulders.
“Babe. What
you just did was so not cool. Not cool, at all. But God, Em, I can’t lie I thought that was so hot,”
she murmured into my hair, then let out a soft moan. “Jesus. Jealous
Emily Fitch’s so super fucking sexy, it turns me on.”
I circled her waist with my arm, sneaking my fingers into whatever gap I can find in her tank top. “Not as
sexy as an over-possessive Naomi Campbell,” I said, and
she laughed and dropped a kiss onto the top of my
head.
We took a seat at the bench by a maple tree
where we parked our bicycles. Immediately, Naomi opened
the paper bag and dug the
carton of French fries and a veggie submarine sandwich out.
“So, I think we still have a lot to catch up on,” she said, grinning at me.
“Was there anything interesting that happened to
you
while I was away?” She ironed the paper bag and placed the carton of fries on
top of it for the two of us to share.
“Nothing
much,” I mumbled through a mouthful of fries.
“Really?” Quirking
a brow, she handed me my unfinished cup of chocolate mint
milkshake. “Nothing you want to share to me?”
“Well, uh . . .” I took a sip of my drink to allow me to think clearly, “I
realised that, unlike you, I don’t have magical powers with kids. I wished they
listened to me like that. I have to resort to chasing them until I’m about to
pass out.”
Naomi’s brow
furrowed as she was biting into her submarine sandwich. “Funny, I
saw you once during the Sports Day at the kindie and
you
seemed like a natural,
babe.”
“I love playing with them, not
herding,” I snorted,
and the blonde laughed.
“Any other realisations?” she asked.
“Your ‘Awesome’
shirts suit me better.”
Naomi laughed again
and I joined in, and I realised that I had truly
missed her laughter. “You’re so cute when you get all cocky, babe.”
“Not as cute as you.” I gave the blonde, who was looking so effortlessly gorgeous in a vintage Coca-Cola
print tank top and a pair of washed-out denim shorts, a peck on
the lips, and she smiled. It felt very much like
starting to fall in love again. We were like young lovers who couldn’t keep our
hands off each other. I picked up my unfinished double-decker hamburger, which
had already grown cold. “What about you? Was there anything interesting that
happened back in Melbourne?”
Naomi leant back
on the bench and thought a moment, pursing her lips. “Besides
devouring boxes and boxes of extra-large deluxe pizza . . . I found out that
there are still a lot of question marks in my life. In our life together.”
“Like what?” I took a bite of my
burger.
She reached
out to touch my shoulder and lovingly caressed it with her thumb. “Like our
plans for the future.”
“Like what?”
Naomi lowered her
brows and mimicked the dramatic low tone of a guidance counselor. “Tell me,
young lady, what do you want to do after graduation?”
“That’s easy,”
I said, chewing a mouthful of burger. “I want to
be with you. I’ve had that all mapped out since, like, the first time I met
you.”
Naomi smiled and reached out to wipe away a blob of ketchup from the corner of my mouth
with her thumb.
“Emily, that’s really sweet. But your life doesn’t revolve around me.”
“Yes, it does,” I said without
hesitation, reaching for the very hand that tidied me and gave
it a tender kiss.
Naomi only rolled
her eyes flippantly at this. “I’m talking about your concrete
plans, Ems. Like where do you want to start your career? Where
do you think you’ll settle down? What are you gonna do in the future? What’s on
your bucket list?”
“Well . . . it was my initial plan
to go back to Bristol and bring you with me there. Try to get into some schools there for experience and as
a way to give back to the community, too. Then I might try it out in London or
Japan and continue my career. I had a chat with Aiko and she told me she could
recommend me to some schools to teach literature or something. I’m also
thinking of working as an ALT in junior high schools around here in Kyoto. It
pays a lot and it’s not so stressful so I’m really considering that. Kyoto’s a
lovely place to settle down. Like, it’s peaceful here and I like the fact that
it takes only a few minutes to get anywhere. Beautiful weather, zero traffic,
nice neighbours too. And for the most part, I love the slower pace of life. But
Bristol would definitely be the best place to start, I suppose.”
“Okay. That sounds brilliant. What
else?” Naomi started tearing a straw
wrapper into tiny little pieces.
My eyes rolled upward as I pondered.
“Let’s see . . . I don’t know. I mean, that’s all I have planned out so far.”
“What about philanthropic work? Like
volunteering?”
“I’ve tried volunteering at a
shelter with Cassie once and I enjoyed it. Also the post-tsunami relief
operation was quite an experience. I’d love to do something like that again.”
She smiled, tearing the tiny wrapper
pieces into tinier pieces. “Okay. That’s good. What about your
advocacies?”
“Oh, I do have some, too,” I said,
taking a sip of my milkshake.
Her eyes lit up. “Like what?”
“Oh you know,” I shrugged, “Naomi
Campbell’s rights and protection.” I smirked playfully.
She let out a fit of chuckles and
threw a French fry at me. “Okay, that was funny. But I’m being serious, Ems.
What about Melbourne? What do you think about Melbourne?”
I took the fallen French fry from my
lap and popped it into my mouth. “I don’t know. I haven’t been to Melbourne.
But judging from your stories and pictures, it seems like a really nice, chill place.”
“I’m just curious as to whether you
can imagine yourself staying in Melbourne.”
I thought about my answer, sensing
there was more to the question than it appeared.
“I suppose that depends,” I finally
hedged. “I mean, I don’t know if I could thrive with the Campbells and the fast
city life and the happy little vegemites and the
mosquitoes.”
“Well I guess you’ll get a taste of that soon, yea?” she said, smiling, noticeably excited for me. “But to give you a primer: We live
in Kensington. It’s different from other suburbs. It’s very much like Dunstall
Road. Except that our streets are lined with Victorian cottages. Melbourne’s the
highest rated city in all of Australia—great weather, low crime rate, very
affordable services and products. World’s most liveable city, you know. One of
the best places to call home according to the survey of The
Economist Intelligence Unit. And, of course, it’s where I was born. So that
makes the city ten thousand times more awesome. Melbourne’s
wonderful, though you really have to ‘be safe around trains.’”
I smiled, a bit impressed and amused
by her sucking up to her hometown, but still
unsure about that particular idea. “Yea, I can’t wait to see where
you grew up and meet your family. And I think you should consider getting into
the tour guide business, babe. You’re really good.”
She laughed. “I learn from the best.
Grandpa used to work in realty sales. And Aunt G’s really brilliant at sales
talk, you should know.”
“Well, she’s been talking us into
getting hitched in that whatchamacallit park since forever, yea? I swear she’s
this close to winning me over.” I indicated the nearness with my thumb and
index finger. “I’m easily bought.”
Naomi let out a
chuckle. “But seriously, you’ll love them.” She gave a
wink.
“I know that for a fact.”
“Although I have to warn you again
about their meddling nature.”
“Well, this certain blonde taught me
patience. I think I can manage.” I grinned. “Anyway, just to show how excited I
am about the Oz trip, I’ve made a list of what we’re going to do while
we’re there.”
“Jesus Christ.” Naomi’s sputtered laughter again. “You’re so predictable, Ranga.
Whatever life tosses at you, you make a list!”
“I’m organised.” I thumped a fist
against my chest. “That doesn’t mean I’m predictable.”
She took my face in her hands and
drew me close to her. “God, I adore you,” she said in a sugary tone. “You’re
wonderful. You’re delectable. You’re predictable. You’re my most favourite thing in
this world. And I just really love you, Emily Fitch.”
“I really love you, too,” I returned just
as sweetly, and Naomi dipped her head to kiss me softly on the mouth. She
polished off the kiss by stroking my nose with the tip of hers. When she drew
back, we were grinning stupidly at each other like two lovesick puppy dogs.
Naomi raised her cup as
if making a toast. “To love,” she said happily, her blue eyes locking onto
mine.
I raised my
own drink. “To
unrequited love,” I added, insinuating poor Toshi, and Naomi laughed.
“To meeting the lovely Campbells.”
“To surviving after that,” I quipped.
“To world peace.”
“To boiled peas.”
Smiling
sweetly at me, Naomi raised her cup a bit higher. “To the
bridesmaids to be.”
“And what’s made to be,” I concluded.
We touched our cups and lips together at the same second.
I drew back
and stared into those soulful blue eyes of hers, amazed and terrified by the
strength of my feelings. But when Naomi dipped her head to kiss me again,
I felt my fears begin to melt away, replaced by a growing sense of completion.
I wondered whether love felt like this for everyone.
Perhaps not.
EPILOGUE
♫
La, la, la,
La,
la, la, la, la ♫
Kylie Minogue’s
“Can’t Get You Out of My Head” blasted out of the portable speakers nearby
waking me with a start. Facing me was a huge inflatable T-Rex holding up a
piece of paper that said GET UP!
RAWR…BRRREAKFAST!
“Rawrrr!
Rawrrr!” Someone roared loudly, mimicking the sounds made by that of a
dinosaur. “Gerrrrrup—!”
“Okay, okay!”
I moaned at it. “Fucking hell.” Since when did bloody dinosaurs do wake-up
calls?
The green
dinosaur disappeared and Halo and Panda’s playful smirks and snickering greeted
me right away.
“You two are
unbelievable!” I rasped out,
flippantly scowling at
them and rubbing sleep off my eyes at the same time, and they laughed all the
more.
“Karen just
threw up on Sean’s foot,” Panda perkily announced, clutching the dinosaur with
both arms.
I couldn’t
help but slant my brows. “And so?”
Halo snatched
the dinosaur from the Swede. “And so you should see the blended chunks of
graham crackers and diced carrots. It’s like a whole new level of artistry.” She laughingly pointed at somewhere I didn’t follow
with my eyes as the mere thought grossed me out.
“Ugh. Go away,
please,” I groaned, and the two rowdy girls did. Jeez, I wonder where they got
all that energy. Maybe from the incredibly vivacious, irritatingly contagious Aussie
pop song playing.
♫
La, la, la,
La,
la, la, la, la ♫
“And kindly
turn down the music, Heaven. I can’t get it out of my head for real,” I whined
again whilst clutching my head in
annoyance, and luckily Halo did as she was told once
more.
I took that
peaceful moment to observe and feel everything: I was lying on my back on a
grassy patch of hill that overlooked the sandy beach that was strewn with bits
of revelry: beer cans, popped beach balls, vodka bottles and sweatshirts,
discarded boxes of graham crackers and blobs of half-eaten marshmallows left
over from the three AM attempt at making s’mores. All along the beach and grass
were occupied tents and sleeping bag-covered bodies and—amidst all this
debris—me.
February
morning. Australian summer. 20°C.
An hour south of Sydney. Glorious.
I gazed
sleepily at the wide, misty sky. It’s the kind of morning that starts off
chilly and misty and then, suddenly, breaks into a hot, sunny day. But right
now, I was tucked into my purple sleeping bag which was lined with plaid
flannel. And since I was feeling groggy and shoeless, I could feel the worn
material on my toes and I closed my eyes again.
Moments later,
when I turned my head to my right and opened my eyes, I was greeted with a warm, adoring smile by
none other than Naomi Campbell.
My beautiful girlfriend. And the most amazing woman in the entire galaxy.
As we were both
on our backs and with our heads turned in, facing each other, it was like
nothing else existed except us and the soft sound of the waves on the shore.
“Hey, Sleeping
Beauty,” she whispered to me, her eyes still half sleep-closed. I studied her
for a moment. Her blond hair was cascading down around her shoulders, elegantly
unruly—and her stunning jawline and flawless face visible underneath said hair
spillage.
“Hey back,” I
said, running a loving finger along her exposed forearm. This stirred her up a
little.
“Sorry, I took pictures of you while you were sleeping. Again,” Naomi said,
gesturing at the iPad tablet tucked under her arm. “Couldn’t resist it.”
I smiled at this. “You can take all the photos of me you want, babe.”
Her response was a sweet kiss on my lips, and I couldn’t help but smile all
the more.
I looked over at something hard I hit with my foot. A Frisbee disc was
halfway buried in the sand. I grimaced at this. “Last
night was . . .” I started then stopped, gazing at the overcast skies above us. It
was as hazy as my head—alcohol seemed to have flooded my entire skull.
Naomi bit her
lip, smiling at the crazy memories. “Insert adjective here: (a) fun (b) sheer madness
(c) a combination of the two.”
“I’ll take C
for five hundred,” I said, yawning. “Or can I phone a friend?”
My girlfriend snorted a laugh. “You’re totally mixing
game shows here, missy,” she said,
and I rolled my head back so we’re looking at each other again.
With sneaky
fingers that crept into my unzipped sleeping bag, reached the loose hem of my Roxy
shortie boardshorts, and traced circular figures on my bare leg, the blonde
suddenly wiggled her brows seductively as if suggesting we do something smutty
while most of the people were still knocked out.
“Give me a
break; it’s not even seven in the morning,” I told her off in a whisper in
spite of the tingles I just felt, and Naomi made a face and let out a groan at
this. Then I switched gears. “Anyway, do you remember trying to eat a s’more
with no hands last night?”
My girlfriend
nodded. “God, yes. That is exactly why you got
some marshmallow in your hair, darling.” She reached out to pluck a sticky long
one from my hair. “It’s funny how I often see you sporting this hairstyle.”
“Oh shut it,” I said, half-smiling
and half-scowling at the gooey bits and strands of confection.
“Aww, poor
little baby.” Grinning teasingly, Naomi suddenly hooked her fingers at the back
of my neck, tugged me toward her and kissed me again, her warm smooth tongue
sliding slowly between my lips. Our breathing picked up. I felt the familiar
rush low in my guts.
I clung tight
onto the blonde’s back, kicking the blanket off me. “God, I love Australia,” I
murmured, sucking the soft hollow between my girlfriend’s neck and shoulder. “Especially the people.”
This made
Naomi giggle. “Oh do you, really?” Her grip around my neck tightened as my
kisses grew wilder.
“Mmm . . . Mm-hmm,”
I murmured against the smooth skin of her cheek. Then I drew back, my brows
together. “Is it my fucked-up imagination or did people skinny-dip while
singing ‘It’s a Small World’? The details of last night are—um—a little fuzzy.”
Naomi, with a
lift of her chin, gestured at a knocked out Cook’s pale butt on display a few
metres away. I made a face at this ghastly sight. Eurgh.
Naomi laughed
quietly and shook her head. “It’s one of those acid trips that make total sense
at the time, but when you remember it later it’s like, Why the fuck were we singing that? And what was so fucking appealing
about getting naked in the frigid Pacific?” Sitting up, she put her
sunglasses on. Then she started stretching her arms and I thought my girlfriend
looked so sexy. Especially her outfit. The blonde was clad in a grey Hamada
University fleece hoodie and hidden underneath is a sexy two-piece black string
bikini.
I sat up as
well and reached for a bottle of mineral water to relieve my parched throat. Sighing happily, I wiggled my toes in the
beige-coloured sand, loving the feel of the rough grain grating against my
skin. “Great weather
and view, eh? Makes you want to write poems in your head.” I tore my eyes away
from Naomi and fixed my gaze on the horizon line. After a long sip of water, I
cleared my throat and began reciting: “Naomi’s
a dark silhouette against the sun. Bright around the edges and an eternal
mystery.”
“Naomi’s a dark silhouette against the sun.
Bright around the edges and an eternal mystery,” Naomi repeated in a musing
tone, looking back at me. “I like that. You’re really so romamtic, Em. But it’s not very long for a poem, is it?”
“It’s a haiku,
babe.”
Naomi removed
her sunglasses and wiped them with her hoodie. “A haiku? And how, exactly,
would you define a haiku again?” she asked, replacing the sunglasses in its
case. “I forgot. I hated Jap lit
class. It was boring as fuck.”
I stared at a nearby
odd-looking mound of sand that was supposed to look like Taj Mahal or something.
I wasn’t so sure. A highly-intoxicated Karen and Katie built it last night. “A
haiku is usually characterised by short, elegant, and very descriptive phrases,”
I answered.
Naomi’s eyes
lit up as it came over her. “Ah yea! The one that uses imagistic language and whatnots. . .”
Squeals from a
running Panda and Halo caught our attention. Naomi held her iPad up and set it on video mode,
zooming in on the two loud, hyper girls some distance away. In
music videos, women never clenched their fists and pumped their arms when they
ran along a beach. Their arms hung loose and sort of swayed around their bodies.
Panda’s arms
refused to sway. They swung like dead weights instead, whapping her thighs
which Naomi and I
thought looked ridiculously cute, awkward, and hilarious.
“Short, elegant,
descriptive phrases, you say?”
Naomi, fighting off hysterical laughter,
pursed her lips as if in deep thought. “Panda
moves like a fucking
bird. A big clumsy turkey, to be exact.”
I burst out
laughing. “God, I love you so much. Can I get a kiss for that brilliance?” I
reached out for the blonde, and she willingly dropped back into my arms as she went on recording videos.
“You can get all the kisses you want from me, babe,” Naomi said with a
wink, borrowing my words and immediately I craned my neck forward to give her a
kiss on the lips.Then another one on her cheek. Then one last on her left
eyebrow. This made Naomi smile, red tinting her cheeks.
We sat there melded, laughing together and enjoying the warm rays of sun that bathed us in a soft
light, my arms wrapped around Naomi’s waist and my head resting on her shoulder as
the blonde got busy taking photos of the Pacific surf, the exposed tidal rock
pool, and the fascinating rock formations with her iPad.
God, I could kiss this woman for an eternity, I thought as I dreamily watched
the movement of her soft lashes and marveled at the fullness of her lips. How did
people deal with this kind of love? Were people ever as content as this? Or were
normal people capable of feeling what I’m feeling right now?
And I wonder if
I can prove the strength of my feelings and my worth to Naomi’s family, in
particular. Naomi’s family. Eeek. I was shitting bricks, to be honest. I was
about to meet some of the most important people in my girlfriend’s life. The
thought made me swallow hard.
I knew Naomi
noticed that I’d gone quiet all of a sudden because she straightened up and put
her iPad down.
The blonde turned
around to face me
with worried eyes. “Hey.” She gently cupped my face in her hand and gazed into
my eyes. “What’s
worrying my little Ranga?”
I looked down,
yet nuzzled into her palm. “I just—” I forced out of my clogged throat, “I’m just
really nervous about meeting your family. I think they’d be disappointed with
me.”
Naomi let out a snort. “Nonsense.” She then lifted my chin with a tender finger and
made me look at her. She gave me a reassuring smile. “They’ll
be ecstatic, Ems.
I’ll tell them we’re madly in love with each other, that you could fix the best
salad on this planet, that you’re the peanut butter to my jelly, and that we’ve
made whoopee in every place possible and our bodies fit together like a dream.”
“You wouldn’t
dare tell them that!”
“Oh hunny, I
would.” She gave me a
teasing wink.
“Will you tell
them about my uselessness?”
“Oh, I’ve
already warned them,” the
blonde said, smirking. “Aunt G’s volunteered to be
stationed at the grill.”
That made me laugh so hard. “I love you.
You’re amazing,” I said, looking at her fondly whilst my arms were still fixed
around her, holding her
close.
She tapped the
tip of my nose with her index finger. “And you’re embarrassing.”
“Foul.” I bit Naomi’s playful finger
that was still pointed at me then immediately pecked her on the lips before she
could even react. Then I pecked her again, over and over, tightening my hold of
her.
Giggling and a little breathless, Naomi turned around
again to face the ocean. She leant back, melting against my chest
and smiled sleepily at the comforting view in the distance. I loosened my
embrace a little and let my hands rest on her tummy. It felt so wonderful to be
with my girlfriend like this and to have ironed out the
problems we had recently had. It was the first time since even before the
long-distance drama that I had really been able to relax.
The
peaceful scenery was beautified even more by the sound
of waves crashing against the nearby shore. A sea breeze caressed us.
“I
know what you mean,” I agreed, absently running my fingers through her hair
with one hand. “One good whiff and all your troubles seem to disappear.” I,
too, breathed deeply and lifted my face to the sky. “Mmm . . .”
Naomi nestled
her head on my chest and clung to me like I was a pillow. “God, I can’t wait to
get to JJ’s villa,” she said. “And have you all
to myself. Just you and me. And cuddle all day and you know . . .” She let out
a yawn.
“Oh, I know,” I murmured, stroking her hair.
She rubbed her cheek against my chest, murmuring content sounds as if she
were breathing in my scent and enjoying the way I touched her hair. And I pressed
my cheek against the crown of her head, holding her close and ever so tenderly.
I felt her twitching very gently as sleep came over
her.
Moments later, Naomi
was still breathing slowly in front of me in her sleep so I took the moment in,
holding on to her and watching her sleep. I touched Naomi’s cheek very
softly with my fingertips, fixated on her beauty. She looked so irresistible that I couldn’t help it. I lightly licked the
tip of her alluring narrow pointed nose.
Naomi jerked all
of a sudden, opened her eyes and lifted her face to me. “Did you just lick my nose?” she asked, her voice
high-pitched and cracking slightly.
I narrowed my eyes. My mouth hung open for a moment in pretend innocence.
“Did I what?”
Naomi broke into a huge grin. “You did! You did just lick me!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, babe.”
She threw her head back and laughed. “Don’t give me that, you know exactly what I mean.”
“I didn’t lick your nose,” I said, trying not to burst into laughter. “You
don’t have any evidence whatsoever to prove that.”
“Whatever, sourpuss,” Naomi muttered as she snuggled into me once more.
“You and I both know you licked my nose.” I watched her yawn for the nth time.
“Sure, babe,” I murmured, gently stroking her hair again. “Just go back to
sleep.”
“I love you, Ranga,”
she mumbled sleepily and her eyes fluttered closed again. “My pretty princess.”
After a few minutes, Naomi’s breathing evened out. I grinned impishly, gave
her nose a lick of my tongue, and whispered, “I love you back.”
Yes, I loved the girl. Beyond my last breath. I didn’t care right from the
start what I’d have to live with for it. And I still think it was the best
choice I’ve ever made.
I
could smell her shampoo just under my chin where she rested, her pulse warming
against my skin. I stayed ever so quiet and listened to her breathing, a sound
which I never wanted to stop.
Feeling her in my arms,
happy and content and safe, was one of the best feelings in the world. I never
wanted it to go away.
No wonder I thought I could take on the world. With Naomi near to me and
her love, no one can harm me.
Naomi Campbell
had profoundly changed my perspective in life. See, I’d always been a realist.
I never believed in love at first sight. I thought relationships were something
you worked on over time, just like football skills.
But that
didn’t even begin to explain the way Naomi dropped into my life from out of the
blue. I had never experienced the kind of feelings I had for her and not that
fast. She had made me realise there’s more to life.
And even more
than that, she had changed my perspective on myself. Just the fact that she had
made me feel like there must be something special about me.
When I was
with Naomi, things were different. Just one smile from her, and all my
anxieties fade away, and I feel like I am floating on air. Naomi Campbell had
really changed me.
We sat there on the beach
together and at that instant I had a flash of the two of us spending time just
like this on a hundred different weekends in the future.
It was just a
normal day, a day like any other. But best of all, it was a day in which all
things were
exactly where they should be.
