me, senpai .”
“What is it?” I ask again.
He takes a deep breath. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Yuki this…unsettled before.
“You can ask me anything,” I say gently.
“Then…did you ever fantasize about Stanford that way?”
Oh, shite.
Chapter Twelve
Yuki looks into my eyes and say, “I understand what happened. I forgive you. I don’t think you’re a slut.”
Yuki grabs my hand. “I’ll forgive you on one condition. That you let me take your body. All night long.”
Yuki smiles a heartbroken smile, a smile that tells me how much I’ve hurt him, a smile
Nobody has to tell me that I write like shite. I know it for a fact, but writing is a lot less noticeable than drawing full-scaled strips on blank pages of my notebook. Lately, I’ve been trying out writing make-believe scenes that have Yuki and me enjoying a mess-free existence. In Japanese. Because I’m paranoid and all.
As Ms. Chambers continues to talk and Yuki still goes on ignoring me, I quietly but ruthlessly yank the page from my notebook, folding it carefully into eights before I tear it into tiny unreadable pieces. Another page wasted on crap that I need to say to Yuki but can’t.
It’s just been three days that Yuki and I haven’t talked, and I’m already at my limit . He really must be a god. Why else would I miss him so much when just a few days before the most words I’ve said to him was “Mr. Saunders says you’re to report to him after class”?
I’ve tried calling, texting, and I’ve even tried “accidentally” bumping into Yuki in school like before but he’s so slick – like a bloody eel – I end up bumping into the wall instead.
Yeeargh!
I’m so desperate I think I’m even going to do the worst thing I can do, and that’s to ask advice from a misandrist.
“When I told you about setting boundaries, I was kinda thinking he would be the one who’s going to need it,” Lace muses to me later at lunch.
We’re at the topmost row of the bleachers again, with the first ten minutes of our break consumed by me spilling out all the bloody details of my time with Yuki and Lace alternately cursing and laughing her head off.
I cringe at Lace’s words, and the spaghetti I was enjoying seconds ago suddenly tastes like dried, stomped-upon, insect-munched weeds. I set the cardboard container with my barely-eaten pasta down, troubled now by not only a heavy heart but an empty stomach as well.
“You know Jace and I have nothing going on.”
“But you still lied about it.” Lace finishes her sandwich and, crumpling her sandwich bag into a ball, she stretches her arm back and throws it into the court. “Catch, bozos!” It’s her affectionate way of calling sophomores in her team.
“You know it’s because I just didn’t want him to know about my work---”
Lace’s tone is uncompromising. “You still lied about it.”
I think about arguing but I don’t in the end. She’s right, after all. About all things. I should have had that talk with Yuki about boundaries. If I had known that he’d get mad this much, then I probably would have told him about Jace and my work.
I miss Yuki – more than his kisses. I just can’t get him out of my mind. And it’s really him, and not just his body.
“Are you sure you’re not in love with him?”
“Totally.” I don’t even have to think about it. “I don’t get jealous when I see him with other girls.”
Lace rubs her chin, but her eyes dart to me once in a while.
“What?”
“I just find it impossible to think that you agreed to be his toy .”
“Can we just skip that part?” I beg, flushing at her
“What is it?” I ask again.
He takes a deep breath. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Yuki this…unsettled before.
“You can ask me anything,” I say gently.
“Then…did you ever fantasize about Stanford that way?”
Oh, shite.
Chapter Twelve
Yuki looks into my eyes and say, “I understand what happened. I forgive you. I don’t think you’re a slut.”
Yuki grabs my hand. “I’ll forgive you on one condition. That you let me take your body. All night long.”
Yuki smiles a heartbroken smile, a smile that tells me how much I’ve hurt him, a smile
Nobody has to tell me that I write like shite. I know it for a fact, but writing is a lot less noticeable than drawing full-scaled strips on blank pages of my notebook. Lately, I’ve been trying out writing make-believe scenes that have Yuki and me enjoying a mess-free existence. In Japanese. Because I’m paranoid and all.
As Ms. Chambers continues to talk and Yuki still goes on ignoring me, I quietly but ruthlessly yank the page from my notebook, folding it carefully into eights before I tear it into tiny unreadable pieces. Another page wasted on crap that I need to say to Yuki but can’t.
It’s just been three days that Yuki and I haven’t talked, and I’m already at my limit . He really must be a god. Why else would I miss him so much when just a few days before the most words I’ve said to him was “Mr. Saunders says you’re to report to him after class”?
I’ve tried calling, texting, and I’ve even tried “accidentally” bumping into Yuki in school like before but he’s so slick – like a bloody eel – I end up bumping into the wall instead.
Yeeargh!
I’m so desperate I think I’m even going to do the worst thing I can do, and that’s to ask advice from a misandrist.
“When I told you about setting boundaries, I was kinda thinking he would be the one who’s going to need it,” Lace muses to me later at lunch.
We’re at the topmost row of the bleachers again, with the first ten minutes of our break consumed by me spilling out all the bloody details of my time with Yuki and Lace alternately cursing and laughing her head off.
I cringe at Lace’s words, and the spaghetti I was enjoying seconds ago suddenly tastes like dried, stomped-upon, insect-munched weeds. I set the cardboard container with my barely-eaten pasta down, troubled now by not only a heavy heart but an empty stomach as well.
“You know Jace and I have nothing going on.”
“But you still lied about it.” Lace finishes her sandwich and, crumpling her sandwich bag into a ball, she stretches her arm back and throws it into the court. “Catch, bozos!” It’s her affectionate way of calling sophomores in her team.
“You know it’s because I just didn’t want him to know about my work---”
Lace’s tone is uncompromising. “You still lied about it.”
I think about arguing but I don’t in the end. She’s right, after all. About all things. I should have had that talk with Yuki about boundaries. If I had known that he’d get mad this much, then I probably would have told him about Jace and my work.
I miss Yuki – more than his kisses. I just can’t get him out of my mind. And it’s really him, and not just his body.
“Are you sure you’re not in love with him?”
“Totally.” I don’t even have to think about it. “I don’t get jealous when I see him with other girls.”
Lace rubs her chin, but her eyes dart to me once in a while.
“What?”
“I just find it impossible to think that you agreed to be his toy .”
“Can we just skip that part?” I beg, flushing at her
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