Don't Just Speak Love

  * * * *

  At quarter to seven the next morning—almost time to get ready for school—I was still lying wide awake on my bed, not having gotten even a wink of sleep.

  Since starting school at Black Gold on Monday, my life had become so much harder. In fact, it was getting worse every day. There were countless things I had to worry about: an erratic teacher who seemed hell-bent on picking on me, an endless amount of schoolwork, and exhausting training with a surprisingly fit seventy-year-old man. Three days ago, I was pushed off a building and would’ve died a gruesome death if it hadn’t been for Sasuke. And now, on top of all that, I was doubting myself. My character in particular.

  I had condemned Acacia’s treatment of Asa, but now that I’d had time alone to process what Asa had told me, it really got me thinking...

  What would I have done if I’d been in Acacia’s position? Suppose my mother had been raped and impregnated by a being as vile as Lucifer, and I had a younger brother because of that, would I be treating him the same way Acacia did Asa?

  I shifted over to my side—the heat accumulating on my back was getting more and more uncomfortable. I had no idea how I would have reacted. The only thing I could be sure of was that I would’ve been very angry. I might have even attempted to track Lucifer down for payback because I definitely would’ve hated him with all my heart.

  Forgiveness was so not my thing. After all, I couldn’t even forgive my own father—okay, according to Sir Albion, he might not be my biological father, but having lived with him my entire life, he’d been more like a father to me than Archangel Gabriel ever had been—for not being able to cope with my mother’s sudden, unexplained departure.

  I gripped the sheets tighter and shifted to my other side. I had my answer. If I’d been in Acacia’s position, I would have turned out, more or less, like she had. I probably wouldn’t have been making the lives of everyone who didn’t act the way I wanted them to miserable, but innocent as Asa may have been, I would’ve still detested him, simply because he was the son of Lucifer.

  Eventually, admitting defeat, I peeled the covers off and got into the shower. I might as well get ready for school now. When I was done, I picked up my schoolbag and made my way downstairs. I was too tired for breakfast, but I’d grab a granola bar to chew on the way to school.

  Stepping into the living room, I found my father sleeping on the battered couch and couldn’t help scowling. It wasn’t surprising to find him here since most of his daily activities were carried out here—he slept, ate (he hardly did though; after my mother left, meals were strictly solo affairs and solely for survival purposes), drank, and began his drunken rampages here.

  As usual, dozens of empty alcohol bottles cluttered every available space around him, including the only unbroken side table. It was almost impossible to find any intact furniture in this hellhole, since my drunkard father had wrecked most of it by now. At the moment, the only other thing left untouched in the living room was the television. My father would never take things out on the TV, no matter how drunk he was. Together with alcohol, it was his most indispensable possession. It was always left on, and always turned to some soccer channel—the only thing he would watch since he’d given up on the world.

  I hadn’t bothered myself with my father in a very long time, and I suddenly realised how much older and frailer he’d become. His athletic frame, though still tall and trim, wasn’t as toned as it used to be. His face was weathered and wrinkled, his hair touched with grey. He reminded me of Alary Savant, both of them despondently in love with their absent wives.

  Abruptly, my father stirred and started to wake, sending me into a panic. With no intention of staying and allowing him to catch me here, I whirled on my heel and scurried as fast as I could out of the living room. I was a couple of steps away from the main hallway when he called my name.

  “Averie?” He sounded pretty clear-headed, and a battle raged within me.

  Reply? Or not reply?

  Promptly deciding on the latter, I ran into the hallway then out the front door and into the neighbourhood. Having forgotten how to speak to my father, I needed to get away before the situation got out-of-hand.

  I didn’t even know what I was supposed to call him. I couldn’t bring myself to call him Dad. I hadn’t used that term in years—it would be so awkward.

  Gritting my teeth, I breathed hard. Despite everything, my heart ached...

  When had things come to this? Yes, I’d been excluding my father from my life all these years, but it wasn’t like I could help avoiding him—he was forever drunk and crazy. What was I supposed to have done? Got in the way and collided headfirst into more trouble?

  Still, I hadn’t known I couldn’t even manage to call him Dad anymore. How long had it been that way? Was it just that I knew now that he wasn’t my real father? And what about him? Had he known about it? Did Mum ever mention it to him?

  No.

  I ran harder, passing my usual bus stop. If he’d known, he wouldn’t have showered me with that much fatherly love back when he was still sane. He’d always treated me as his child, and he hadn’t thrown me out when Mum died, so clearly he didn’t know the truth. It had to stay that way. I couldn’t afford to let him find out—I still needed a roof over my head until I finished school.

  I stopped running. Yes, life in his house was hard, but I still didn’t want to have to go to an orphanage or even go under foster care. I crouched down, suddenly unable to remain standing anymore, and, hugging my knees close, found myself sobbing into them. I hadn’t wanted to admit it, but the truth was I’d already lost my mum, and I didn’t want to lose my dad—biological or not, sane or not.

  Why couldn’t things go back to the way they were before? Why did Mum have to leave? Why couldn’t we have stayed the happy family we once were? Why—

  “Averie?”

  I jolted out of my train of thought and looked up into Sasuke’s apprehensive eyes.

  “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

  I stood up fast, wiping off tears hastily, and realised I was in school already. “W-what are you doing here?”

  He pointed meaningfully to Ms. Psychotic’s pigeonhole outside the staff office, and I froze. “To submit the damn ‘respect’ essay before first period, of course. Kept me up all night—” He studied me then asked gravely, “You’re not serious, are you?” It must’ve been obvious I hadn’t done the essay.

  Could my day get any worse? How could I have forgotten about that freaking essay? I absolutely couldn’t believe myself. Even after my hectic night at the graveyard, I should never have forgotten the most important piece of work to submit today...I was so screwed. I was done. I didn’t even know what would happen to me later in Ms. Psychotic’s class.

  “Go back now,” said Sasuke. “Pretend you’re sick. Bring in a note from your dad tomorrow.”

  “There’s no way I can get my dad to write me a note,” I said, matter-of-factly. “I don’t speak to him anymore.”

  “Then fake one.” He spun me around and gave my back a light push, trying to get me to hurry.

  His suggestion made sense so I ran again, without having a specific destination in mind. All I knew was that I couldn’t go to school, and I couldn’t go home. I made it out onto the sidewalk next to the main car park on campus, where some heated commotion going on at the other end of the quadrangle grabbed my attention—a large group of students was gathering by the school garden.

  I was about to turn away, get moving before I was discovered, when I made out vague outlines of Acacia and Jace. The place was swamped with students since it was almost homeroom time, but I decided to risk lingering a little longer to see what they were up to, causing such a major fuss. If any of my classmates or teachers ran into me, I’d pretend to be so unwell, I’d go to a doctor immediately. After another quick moment of observation, it seemed like there was a fight going on—

  And Asa was involved!

  Go over—and later face Ms. Ps
ychotic’s wrath for not being able to produce her essay?

  Or get out now—and avoid every trouble in my way?

  I pulled at my hair in frustration. Go over? Or get out?

  A long moment passed, but I couldn’t seem to weigh up my options and make a decision, so I let my instincts take control. I raced over to the knot of people.

  I had to help Asa because nobody else would.

  “Stop! Stop! Stop!” I pushed past the horde of onlookers and ran straight into Jace. Grabbing him by the arm felt disconcertingly like reliving last night at the graveyard, except with Jace Peller instead of Alary Savant.

  He reeled around and, flushing with aggravation, glared down at me so fiercely, I almost cowered.

  “What are you doing?” I demanded, still hanging on to his arm for fear that he would hit Asa again.

  Asa.

  I looked around and found him gasping on the ground. He must have taken a few punches already. His face was bruised and slightly swollen—though the spot where Alary had struck him looked the worst. When I glanced up, I caught Acacia’s gaze, and she rolled her eyes.

  “Piss off,” hissed Jace as he attempted to shrug my hands off and I struggled to hold on. “You bitch.”

  I could’ve kicked myself. He was way stronger than me; I wouldn’t stand a chance in this fight. I should have gone to a teacher for help instead of confronting them so brashly.

  Seeing me overpowered, Acacia let out a triumphant sneer, and I had to stop myself from kicking her in the shin as all the previous sympathy I’d felt for her disappeared. While I wasn’t paying attention to Jace, he pushed against my shoulder and I slammed into the ground.

  Unscathed, I sprang up to my feet, ready to run back to the staff office to get help, but before I could make a move, Jace stalked up to Asa, and I snapped. With the momentum of a good sprint, I shoved Jace hard, away from the battered boy on the ground. I could only watch dumbstruck, as he crashed into Acacia, who’d been standing some distance away, and she tumbled into the pond.

  Karma sure was a bitch. Only a few days ago she’d tossed Chaste’s books into that same pond...

  Acacia’s face was scrunched up in alarm and rage when she resurfaced a few seconds later. Splashing at the water gracelessly, she squealed for help and spluttered nasty words at me in an unintelligible jumble. I blinked, taken aback—not by Acacia’s screams, but because I was genuinely surprised at the amount of force I’d used for the shove. I had no idea I was strong enough to send a tall, robust teenage boy skidding a good few meters. Looked like Sir Albion’s physical training was finally paying off.

  Anyway, I would’ve laughed to my heart’s content at Acacia’s weed-wrapped head, but to my horror, Mrs. Bernadette, Ms. Psychotic, and another male teacher I didn’t recognise strode into the crowd. They must’ve seen what I’d done because the looks on their faces were downright hostile.

  Dear life, when I said could my day get any worse, I did not mean it as a challenge.

  Meanwhile, in Acacia’s witty effort to make my offence look worse than it actually was, she immediately put on a dramatic performance in which she was drowning.

  Tsk. Come on, the water was just slightly above knee level.

  The male teacher, Jace, Elliot, and a couple of other students waded into the water to help Acacia while Mrs. Bernadette gestured for me to come. All previous thoughts vanished as the blood drained from my face. If only I could drop dead. Right now.

  There was no way I could explain myself out of this. Absolutely no way. In the eyes of the adults, I’d still be at fault no matter the reason.

  “It’s my fault,” confessed Asa all of a sudden, picking himself up from the ground. “I started it.”

  Mrs. Bernadette let out a frustrated sigh, looking tired. “Both of you”—she made a waving motion at me and Asa—“and Jace, come with me. Let’s have a little talk in the office.”

  I trailed as far behind Mrs. Bernadette as I thought she would allow and wounded up in the principal’s office with the principal—Mrs. Kathleen—Mrs. Bernadette, Asa, and Jace minutes later. They all had completely different expressions on their faces. Mrs. Kathleen looked impatient and upset; Mrs. Bernadette was all steely and serious; Asa looked surprisingly calm and composed; and Jace insolent and ready to defy.

  As for me, I didn’t know how I looked, but I was truly scared. I just hoped they didn’t expel me—was I thinking too much? They wouldn’t expel a student for fighting, right? Not when it was my first offence—or, in fact, the only offence in the history of my school career. Okay, so they wouldn’t know that, but still—

  “So, what exactly happened?” prompted Mrs. Kathleen—a slightly plump, elderly Irish lady with a deceivingly empathetic face—as her grim eyes strayed from Asa to me to Jace, and back to me again since I was, inopportunely, standing in the middle. “I want nothing but the truth. And don’t waste my time. Start.”

  “I—” Eager to get our side of the story out first, all three of us spoke at once.

  “Let’s start with Averie,” proposed Mrs. Kathleen, still looking my way fixedly.

  Squaring my shoulders, I began to put together my defending speech. “I saw Jace Peller hitting the younger boy across the quadrangle so I went in to stop the fight—”

  “By landing an innocent girl in the pond?” interjected Mrs. Kathleen curtly.

  I couldn’t help myself. I snickered, fully aware that in doing so, I was aggravating Mrs. Kathleen further. “Yeah, she’s probably the most innocent party out of us all,” I said, as sarcastically as I could. “She must’ve been the one who incited her sidekick Jace to beat up Asa.”

  “Who did you just call a sidekick, bitch?” retorted Jace, scowling into my face. I had to fight down the urge to punch him and deal with whatever crap came along after that. This was the second time today he’d called me a ‘bitch’, even though he was the one at fault.

  “Watch your language,” snapped Mrs. Bernadette, speaking up for the first time in this office, but Jace merely glowered at her defiantly.

  “Next,” said Mrs. Kathleen, ignoring my scathing comment. “Asa.”

  “I started it,” declared Asa valiantly. “I hit Jace first, and he merely retaliated. As for Averie, she saw that Jace was ready to strike me back so she pushed him away. She couldn’t have expected that he would collide with my sister, making her fall into the pond. Averie honestly didn’t do it on purpose.”

  Mrs. Kathleen nodded in acknowledgement, and I almost thought she was buying Asa’s story. “Good try,” she said. “Then why are you the only one injured?”

  “Jace dodged my fist,” countered Asa without missing a beat, keeping up with his lie convincingly. “My injuries aren’t caused by him.”

  “Oh…” Mrs. Kathleen, nevertheless, arched one of her eyebrows disbelievingly. She sure was a hard nut to crack. “Why did you hit him?”

  With this question, she knocked Asa off his rhythm. “I hit him because—well, I—”

  “Okay, next,” interrupted Mrs. Kathleen.

  “I have nothing to say,” said Jace simply.

  “Say something,” ordered Mrs. Bernadette irascibly.

  “I hit this bastard because he has a detestable face,” barked Jace. “Will that do?”

  “Yes, thank you,” said Mrs. Kathleen bluntly. “Anything else to add?”

  Thick silence descended as Mrs. Kathleen waited.

  “Since the finals are coming in a month, I don’t want to have to suspend any of you,” she said when none of us spoke up. “Any suggestions from your side?”

  More silence. Knowing there was no right answer to her question, I remained quiet even though I couldn’t believe she was asking for our opinions.

  When we walked out of the principal’s office ten minutes later, Mrs. Bernadette pulled Jace to a corner for, apparently, more lectures.

  “Stop behaving like a child, would you?” I overheard her saying as I passed. “I know your father’s death is hard on you—”
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  Jace jerked away from her hand. “You don’t know anything, Mum,” he said irritably. “Just leave me alone.”

  Mum? They’re mother and son?

  Now that I knew, I couldn’t believe I’d missed it. They had the same white skin tone, same dirty-blond hair, same emerald green eyes, and they were both tall as a tower.

  I walked out of earshot and realised Asa way ahead of me—he was already turning into the classroom block, about to go up the stairs. Picking up my pace, I caught up to him.

  “Asa?” I said, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Are you all right? Shouldn’t you be going to the nurse to get your face checked out?”

  He didn’t say anything but reached into his pocket, fumbling for something. Seconds later, he produced a locket—my locket—from his pocket and held it out to me. “Look, I appreciate your compassion, but I’ll say this one last time—don’t bother yourself with my problems,” he said as I took my locket back. I must have dropped it during the tussle with Jace. His voice turned weak, “I don’t want her to hate me more than she already does.” He turned away and disappeared up the stairs.

  He loved his sister, I realised, in spite of every hurtful thing she’d done to him. Yes, he was guilt-ridden for causing his mother’s death, but part of the reason he didn’t retaliate against Acacia and Alary was probably because he hoped to be accepted as their family.

  In a terribly gloomy mood, I headed toward the lab block for my first period class—horrible, dreadful Chemistry with Ms. Psychotic—as slowly as I could, literally taking three steps forward then two back again. I was hoping to miss my first lab session with her altogether with the trip to Mrs. Kathleen’s office, but no luck there. Only forty-five minutes had passed, meaning there was still one hour and fifteen minutes of Chemistry left.

  Good luck to me.

  I sighed. Good luck had never been on my side from the day I started attending Black Gold. Everything was crashing down on me at once, and I couldn’t breathe. I was so sick and tired of life. Couldn’t it give me a break? I was only human—okay, half-human, but still, more or less, human. I needed a rest. I really needed it.

  I sighed again.

  Forget it.

  Coming right up was the wrath of Ms. Psychotic. I stopped at the third level of the lab block, contemplating giving Chemistry a miss. The thought of skipping it was extremely tempting. Perhaps I could feign sickness like I’d originally planned—no, wait. Why should I skip? It wasn’t like I was afraid of her. Anyway, I couldn’t ditch Sasuke—I was his lab partner, and if I wasn’t there, not only would he have to do double the work, he would have to endure an extra dose of her disdain, brought about by my absence.

  I couldn’t be that selfish.

  Gulping in a couple of deep breath, I pulled myself together. When I was feeling brave enough, I crossed the short distance to Ms. Psychotic’s lab class.

  I would survive. I always did.

  “Oh, look. Who do we have here?” she acknowledged my presence acerbically and a feeling of pure dread swallowed me whole. “Aren’t you suspended?”

  I stiffened, wanting to evaporate into air and be freed from this awful place. This psychopath was bound to get me to reveal what had happened in Mrs. Kathleen’s office to humiliate me in front of all my classmates. “Nope,” I said, acting nonchalant as I took my seat next to Sasuke. Because we were in the same group, we would receive the same grades, and Ms. Psychotic had made it very clear that my group would be getting unfavourable grades simply because my attitude sucked.

  I really didn’t get it. How had I provoked her? Why did she hate me so badly?

  I sighed, for the umpteenth time this past week.

  Never mind that. I had long given up on my Chemistry grade—I would have to put my stakes on the rest of my subjects—but I felt bad for Sasuke. He’d had the misfortune of getting me as a partner because we were both new in class.

  I would have to negotiate his case with Ms. Psychotic sometime.

  Scanning the room, I crossed sight with Acacia. She had already changed out of her soiled clothes, and she was giving me the fiercest glare ever. Not in the mood to care, I averted my eyes, but I could still feel her stare boring through me. Refusing to let something like that bother me, I tried my best to ignore it.

  “So what happened in the principal’s office?” Ms. Psychotic finally asked, and the class came to a standstill as everyone gave me their full attention.

  Before I could think of a reply, Jace entered the lab sullenly. I didn’t know whether to be glad.

  “What happened?” repeated Ms. Psychotic impatiently.

  What could I say? I didn’t want to tell the entire class I was due to report to Mrs. Bernadette for corrective work half an hour before school every day next week. “You know…the normal lecture,” I said as coolly as I could.

  “Since you weren’t suspended, how were you punished?” pressed Ms. Psychotic relentlessly, and I rolled my eyes. What was her problem? I’d never met another teacher half as horrid.

  I didn’t lose my cool, though. “I have to clock corrective work hours with Mrs. Bernadette next week,” I explained briefly as I flipped through my lab sheet for the class, not failing to add, “together with Jace.” There was no way I would suffer this mortification by myself.

  It was Jace’s turn to roll his eyes.

  “What about the other boy, Asa?”

  My head shot up, and I stared at Ms. Psychotic in disbelief. Did she really have to get me to tell every single detail?

  “He was let off the hook,” I said shortly.

  “Why?”

  By now, my patience was running dangerously thin. “I don’t know,” I lied, not wanting to tell everyone Asa was let off the hook because he was the only one who admitted to being in the wrong. I’d been too busy trying to get Mrs. Kathleen and Mrs. Bernadette to see Acacia’s involvement in the fight—to no avail, apparently. Why did bad guys always get away with everything?

  Okay, maybe that was too severe a statement, but I could hardly take things lying down. I didn’t think I’d done wrong in all sense of the word. Plus, the thought of Acacia gloating while I served corrective work was too much to bear. Especially when she must have been the instigator behind the fight.

  “You better get a move on with your experiment today.” Ms. Psychotic finally left the demeaning discussion at that.

  I let out a silent sigh of relief, only to be disconcerted once again.

  “It would be a miracle if you even managed a pass,” she remarked offhandedly, and I almost snapped back at her. “Oh, and where the hell are my essays?”

  Eyebrows furrowing, I repeated after her, stressing the plural, “Essays?”

  “Don’t act ignorant…”

  “I didn’t submit mine either,” said Sasuke to me in a hushed tone while Ms. Psychotic ranted.

  “Why?” I demanded, unable to rein in my frustration.

  He just shrugged. What was that supposed to mean?

  “Are the two of you even listening?” retorted Ms. Psychotic, tuning me back to her frequency. “Incorrigible idiots.”

  Immediately, I felt the urge to secretly record the way she conducted her class then submit it to the school board. I didn’t want things to end up that way, but I could hardly stand her tyranny any longer.

  “If you aren’t interested in my class, you can always leave,” barked Ms. Psychotic, and, without hesitation, Sasuke loaded his iPad, books, and pens into his backpack then proceeded to zip it up.

  I stared at him in shock; this was getting completely out of hand. At this rate, he would really be failing Ms. Psychotic’s class.

  Slinging his backpack over his shoulder, he said to me, “Let’s go?”

  There was a collective gasp of shock in the lab. Following his lead, I packed up as well, and before long, the two of us were out of the lab, leaving the rest of the class gawking in disbelief.

  When we were out of view, Sasuke turned to me. “Let’s chill at my room unti
l the next class. What do you think?”

  For a moment, I wondered what room he was talking about, but I quickly realised it could only be his hostel. With no other idea in mind, I agreed. Sasuke led the way, and I found myself outside a boys’ toilet soon after.

  “Wait here,” he said before disappearing into the toilet.

  Maybe he needed the washroom badly?

  Seconds later, Sasuke emerged from the toilet and indicated for me to come in. “No one’s inside. Come on.”

  “What? Are you serious? This is the gents!” I told him, as though he didn’t know already.

  “I need to zap us there. We can’t just walk into the hostel during school hours. There’s a guard on duty,” he explained.

  “Oh. Okay…” With little choice, I stepped into the gents with Sasuke.

  “Ready?” he asked, holding out his open hand.

  I took it and closed my eyes. “Ready.”

  The same old discomfort washed over me.

  “We’re here,” he said, and I felt him letting go.

  I opened my eyes to a small, neat room with two beds, two desks, two chairs, two wardrobes—all mirroring each other—and some shelves against the wall between the desks. Only one side of the room seemed to be occupied, so I asked, “You don’t have a roommate?”

  “Nope. I’m new here, and there’s no other boy to pair up with me.” He suddenly sighed. “I wish finals would come already,” he said glumly as he plopped down onto his bed, only to sit up again a moment later. He got off his bed and pulled out a chair for me. “Sorry—there you go.”

  I waved off his courtesy as I sat down. Sasuke was probably the most polite person I’d ever met. “I wish it would arrive earlier too. Can’t wait to get Acacia, Jace, and definitely Ms. Psy—Evaline off my back.”

  “What do you call her?” Sasuke looked to me, all curious. “Ms. Psycho?” He broke into uncontrollable laughter as he dropped down onto his bed again. “That’s a pretty accurate description of her!”

  Unable to contain my amusement, I grinned widely. “Actually, to be precise, I call her Ms. Psychotic.”

  He laughed again as I recalled what had got us slacking off here.

  “On a serious note, you shouldn’t have left the lab. I know she was very mean, but now she’s bound to give you a failing grade, too.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ve actually got a plan,” said Sasuke brightly.

  I sat up straighter. “Let’s hear it.”

  He winked at me. “All we have to do is to exchange Chemistry for some other class.”

  The world brightened instantly. Why hadn’t I thought of that? It would solve everything. But Chemistry was a pretty useful subject…should we give it up like that?

  I shrugged the thought off. I was going to fail it anyway if I continued with Ms. Psychotic’s class. Might as well drop it.

  “That’s a great idea. Let’s go to the general office to do the exchange during lunch.”

  He nodded in agreement, still sprawled on his bed, gazing at the ceiling.

  “Aren’t you going to ask me why I got myself into a fight when I was supposed to be taking a sick day?” I couldn’t help but ask.

  “Because, Averie,” he said tentatively, keeping a tight watch on my reaction. “I already know why. Everyone in Black Gold has heard about it.”

  I’d kind of expected that. In a school of only three hundred students, it wouldn’t be that hard to spread the news. And it had happened during the busiest time of the school day, when everyone was moving from the hostel to the main building for class.

  He seemed relieved when I didn’t react. “It was brave of you to look past your own problems to stop the fight. If I’d known what was happening, I would have stepped in to help, and things might not have turned out the way they did. I’m sorry.”

  I smiled at him. “Anyone told you that you’re a nice person?”

  “Yes, plenty,” he said, matter-of-factly.

  Everything Sasuke did resurfaced in my mind all of sudden. He was always so kind to everyone. From the first time we met—which was two weeks ago—I’d never witnessed him being anything lesser than nice to anyone. Classmates, Mr. Weird Security Guard, janitors, lab technicians; it didn’t matter who. “Why are you so kind to people?” I asked in incomprehension.

  He looked baffled. “Er—I’ve never given that any thought,” he said. “Do people need a reason to be kind to each other?”

  “People are pretty much self-centred. Nobody wants to do things that will hurt their own interests. Don’t you worry you would lose out with such a giving personality?”

  “Actually, I believe I would only lose out otherwise. My mum told me once that if I grow up to be a good man, the rest would all make sense. And my dad always tells me, just keep it real. I’ve always listened to them, and I intend to go on that way.”

  “Wow—you probably have awesome parents,” I said bitterly.

  “I do.” He beamed with pride then dropped his smile when he caught on to my tone. “What about yours?” he asked apprehensively.

  “Don’t want to talk about it.”

  He watched me with caution out of the corner of his eye. “All right, let’s talk about something lighter then.”

  We spent the rest of first period chatting about every topic under the sun. Favourite food, schoolwork, hobbies—I didn’t have even one while Sasuke had plenty—and, basically, life. He also revealed why he could speak English so well, and it was because his mum was an English speaker that had migrated to Japan all the way from the UK.

  “I want to go home,” he divulged dejectedly when it was almost time for our next class. “I miss my brothers so much. It feels lonely, sleeping in a room alone. Before I left Tokyo, my younger brothers would always come into my room whenever it was time for bed and we would spread futons on the floor—futons are cotton mattresses. The three of us would curl up to sleep, together with our two dogs.”

  “Bear with it for a while.” I smiled to myself as I pictured three boys and two dogs all snuggled up at bedtime. “One more month and home you go.”

  “Yeah, I hope nothing’s changed when I get back.”

  “It’s only a month. I’m sure nothing much will change,” I reassured him. I was glad to find him cheering up.

  “That’s right. I should be more positive,” he said radiantly. “Being miserable doesn’t help anything.”

  “Yep,” I agreed. After this random chitchat session, I found myself cheering up as well. I was already feeling more optimistic about my future—something I hadn’t felt in a long time.

  “Let’s get to our next class, shall we?” He extended an open palm to me.

  “Sure.” I reached out and placed my hand in his.