I'm surrounded by Mexicans. It's not that I'm racist or don't like them, it's just...I can't speak any Spanish and I'm afraid they'd be like "Why this random gringo on my porch?" Not to mention they're always throwing loud fiestas next door. When my son went out to play with a whole gaggle of kids outside our door, they turned out to be all hispanic, and I saw for the first time as my kid struggled to get involved and make friends. They wouldn't even really look at him. One girl looked like she scolded and yelled at him.

...I never thought I'd feel that pain. How do I approach this?

4

I woke up because someone was making French toast. My head still ached as though I really had run it through a strainer, and I did try to go back to sleep. But, you know, the great enemies of sleeping in came in for a counter attack.

Full bladder and empty stomach.

Groaning, I sat up to find, not my mom's Navajo blanket or washed out blue sheets, but a thick fuzzy blanket on a black couch. Coals glowed in the fireplace, nibbling on a new piece of wood someone had thrown there. Soft sunlight shone through the sheer gray curtains.

From the kitchen came a quiet chink of pan and a soft sizzle.

I rubbed my eyes hard. This was weird. Yeah, I remembered why I was here, but…forget that I was in the house of the guy I liked, but my professor. I was in my professor's house. It was like passing by your homeroom teacher at the supermarket. For a moment, the two battled in my mind for dominance on just what kind of awkwardness I felt.

Bladder tapped my shoulder. I didn't have time to think about this.

The moment I stood up, the too big gray sweats I wore slid down my hips. I caught them like lightning and searched for some sort of string, but nope. I get to hold on to my pants like a derp.

I was aware of the feel of the wood floor as I shuffled to the kitchen.

Naru stood at the stove, reading something on his phone with a spatula in his other hand, two pieces of French toast sizzling in a wide pan. He looked up at me, which ruined my dream of being able to sneak into his bathroom without his notice. Oh gawd, what if he could hear me pee? Just got to stand there and—

"You look like you could have slept longer," he said, glancing back to his phone. "It is Saturday."

Thank God.

"Just the usual culprits," I mumbled before hurrying into the little hall made of doors on each side. The one forward was a bathroom with an old fashioned clawed tub with a ring-like shower curtain rod hanging from the ceiling by wire.

It took me a second to figure out the lock. It could have been a hundred years old. Well taken care for, but still old fashion and wiggly.

I switched on the sink before seating myself on the toilet. It was white, but dusty. Did he never dust?

When I came back out, Naru had a plate of French toast in one hand and syrup on the other, both which he headed towards the tiny dining room.

"Food, Mai?"

I blinked. "You sure? I mean, you don't have too…"

He came back from the dining room with one of his droll looks.

"Oh no, two slices of bread, an egg, and some milk. I'll be eating ramen for a week."

"Ugh, shut up, only I can use sarcasm. You say it like it's true."

"Just go eat. Coffee or tea?"

"Um, do I wanna wake up?" I said it more to myself than him, yawning halfway through.

Naru's mouth twitched up into a line. "I got milk too."

"I'll go with that."

The little table, which was actually a light maple wood, could have fit four people tightly. It used the window seat for seating on one side and mismatching old fashion, dark wood chairs on the other three sides. At least the chairs matched. And the furniture all had the theme of well cared for wood. None of that fake stuff.

Naru set a glass of milk beside me just as I had worked off my first bite of French toast. It was just at the right crispness, no squishy liquidy insides.

"Hey, you got it just right, boss."

"Anything using a frying pan I can cook just fine. Throw in a pot and things get complicated."

I slurped up another bite of syrupy goodness. "What about the soup last night?"

"Came from a can. I microwave it."

I giggled a bit. "Way to treat a girl to a homemade meal."

"I went for ease of eating. You were half asleep and already having conversations with my brother."

"I did that? Huh. Barely remember that."

Naru went back to the kitchen, where more sizzling of newly set French toast could be heard.

I felt a little more awake once I had eaten a bit more and drank the milk. Naru came in with his plate when I was almost finished with mine. Rather than getting up and taking it to the sink, I laid my head on the table and watched the bits of the sun that made it through the curtains reflecting off the table and onto the fork in Naru's hand.

The table was warm. I closed my eyes.

"How did Masako explain mental defense against possessions?"

I sighed and quoted, per word, "Stand up for yourself and refuse to give up the stage of your mind."

"Hmm. I can see how you could struggle with that."

"Yes, because you know my mind so well."

"I have read a lot of your writing."

"Reports are not my strong suit."

"Yes. Bevis and Butthead quotes are more like it."

Oh yeah. I included one of those in my last report, hadn't I? It had been ten at night, I was still traumatized from having shot a child rapist in the butt. Or more like seeing my two good friends bleeding out on a crappy living room floor.

"Ah, so you did watch cartoons as a child."

Click of the fork. "I was a child once."

"Pardon. I had assumed you were born fifty-four and grumpy."

We fell into a comfortable quiet filled with the clicking of his fork. I must have dozed off a bit somewhere in there, because the next thing I knew Naru was shaking my shoulder. The touch startled me and I sat up ramrod straight.

"I'm awake! I'm awake."

"Need help to the couch?" he asked.

"If I'm going to sleep more I should probably just head home. You do have 'propriety,' to worry about."

He rolled his eyes. "As long as you're worn out like this, you're still vulnerable to possession, especially since you're clairvoyance kicks in when you sleep. You can leave when you're not tired anymore."

"Well, okay, Mom." I yawned and got up. "Oh where oh where has my ice teacher gone."

He just grunted to that and vanished back into the kitchen, probably to get something from his room or retreat to his office.

Not soon after I had bundled back up on the couch, though, he came back out, swiping one of his flat fuzzy pillows to sit against the fireplace, which had gotten a bit brighter as the coals woke up. In his lap, he had a laptop and a folder of papers.

"You don't have to babysit me. I'm not going to steal your stuff." I mumbled.

"I thought friends enjoyed each other's company," he said, eyes to the screen, already tapping madly on the mouse.

"Naru said the 'f' word." I yawned again, jaw popping. "If anyone calls for me, tell them I'm dead."

Within a few minutes under the sound of keys tapping, I was out once more.

When I woke up, he hadn't moved, though there was a mug of what could have been coffee on the seat of the fireplace. I watched without his notice for some precious minutes before he sighed heavily and rubbed his forefinger and thumb over his eyes hard.

"Grading?"

"Yes," he said.

"Stupid people?"

"Worse. Stupid people who think I'm the next Indiana Jones, who, I may add, was an awful teacher."

"Well, you did get shot, like, last month," I eyed him. "How are you doing, by the way?"

"About the same the last time you asked. As long as I don't lift my left arm above my waist I'm fine. Anything to get that damn sling off."

"You're such a baby. I had my arms bandaged for months."

"And every time I see you in short sleeves I can't help but wish you still did."

I scowled at him. "These are my battle scars." And flexed one of my arms, even though he couldn't see anything due to my long sleeve t-shirts. Spring was coming, but it wasn't here yet. Snow still clustered in the shadows and edges.

"Whatever makes you happy," he said, obviously having fully engrossed himself into grading again before I had even finished speaking.

I wiggled on my spot on the couch again. I wasn't particularly hungry or sleepy anymore besides that leftover grogginess which is always there right after you wake up. I took the chance of him being glued to the floor to use his bathroom without fear of him hearing me pee. Because, yo, that's just no go, letting your crush hear you pee. Perish the thought of number two.

When I came back, he glanced up at me and closed his laptop.

"Do you have an appointment with Masako set up for next week?"

I slumped and whimpered. "Do I have to? She just made me weaker to spirits."

"It's a common thing in human nature that in order to become strong, one must first know what it feels to be weak," Naru said, cracking his head from side to side. "You need to make yourself vulnerable in order to recognize others, be they spirit or living. To see them for who they are. To see yourself."

I slumped onto the floor next to the couch, not hiding any of my poutings from him. "This all sounds like whimsical philosophy, like the kind of stuff you see in inspirational quotes on facebook or painted onto little tiles in old lady's houses."

"When dealing with the metaphysical, it does often sound like a metaphor. Comes with not having a stable object to lift and observe." He folded his arms and crossed a leg. "This is why being a medium will be so beneficial to your being a ghost hunter."

"Even so, Masako isn't helping. You seem to know a lot, why can't you just teach me?"

"Because I'm not a medium," he said bluntly. "I have never practiced these things myself."

"Sure." I wrinkled my nose. "I don't get why I need to have training now. I've lived most of my life without being possessed or whatever."

He sighed. "That's because every human being has a level of sensitivity to the spiritual, or rather, the spiritual side. We are all human, after all, dead or alive." He paused. "Perhaps a visit to John will do you some good. Most religions have a way of meditation or other practices to help raise awareness of one's self, which you clearly do lack."

"How do you know that? I'm cheese and butthead!"

Mouth twitch. A hard one. Score for me.

"Because, Mai," he said, his tone softening for some reason. "Others serve as our mirrors. It's like a fun house, and many of the mirrors are warped, but they are what we have, and you don't let yourself be seen. You hide behind humor or simple avoidance."

I gave an explosive sigh and ran my hands down my face, pulling my eyelids till they popped.

"Not this lecture again," I moaned. "Look, I'm doing the best I can—"

"I know you are," he said quickly, and some of that strange, uncanny softness reached his eyes. "But in order for one to have healthy, intimate relationships with other people, they need a foundation with some they are already it. Family, parents, they are the first people you have that connection with. Without that foundation…you're free falling. A kite with no string." He sighed. "It's not your fault, you know."

"It's always so exciting when you decide to deconstruct and analyze my psyche, Doctor Phil."

He rolled his eyes. "There you go doing it again."

"What? You expect me to be comfortable with you essentially telling me I'm broken and there's nothing I can do about it?"

"I didn't say that," he unfolded his arms and leaned forward on a knee. "Humankind is resilient. All you need to do is find a new foundation, experience intimacy, just to get a taste of what it feels like to open yourself up and look into the metaphorical mirror of someone else. Once you have a clear view of yourself, or at least clearer than it is now, defending yourself against spirits who wish to override your identity with their own will be much easier. Masako doesn't know about your parents. To her, you're just being stubborn."

I did not like the fact that he was defending her. "Gee, if you like her so much, why don't you just date her?"

He looked to the ceiling. "God, one track mind." Then he looked back down to me. "That's not a bad suggestion for you, though. You could always try dating Takigawa. Not the boy who wants to marry you, he is essentially jail bait."

Heat flooded my face. "You…you're saying getting into a romantic relationship…"

He shrugged. "They do provide the best environment for intimacy. And you learn a lot about yourself while trying to learn and take care of someone else."

I looked down at my clenched hands, which had begun to sweat. "I don't want to date him."

"He knows—"

"Yes, he knows. But he wants to," ugh, it felt weird to say it. " 'Try and win me over.'" I sighed. "I can't believe my professor is encouraging me to hook up with a guy."

"Hook up implies just sex. I meant a relationship, deeper, long term."

"Then why can't I just do that with you?"

It was out before I had thought better of it. It had come up with a roll of frustrated heat from my gut that turned my chest to fire and warmed my already red face. Sweat was collecting in more places than just my hands now.

He stared at me, mouth slightly apart. His blue eyes quivered on me.

"That would be a very bad idea," he eventually breathed.

"Because you'd get fired," I said, pulling my legs in for defense, naturally terrified of the Pandora's box I'd just opened. I had started shaking.

"No," he said. "Because…I am not a good choice of person to practice such things with. I am…cold, arrogant, thoughtless, and careless with other's emotions. I would end up hurting you more than helping you. No, it's best you forget about that entirely." He ducked his head. "Don't think of me again."

Painful, chilling ice rushed over my heat, resulting in pure emotional pain. All my insides constricted on themselves, as though to pull back from the sudden sting.

"But…" My throat was tightening. I didn't have much time. "Isn't it better to," I swallowed hard. "Do this sort of thing with someone you like? Like…really like?"

"Like somebody else, Mai."

Something inside me cracked. I stood up so fast I saw stars as the blood rushed to my feet.

"Guess I should get going then. Saturday is one of my only days to work on the science building." I said, as cheerfully as I could manage.

He said nothing, head still bowed, his hands clasped together over one knee.

"Thanks for all the help, Prof. I'll be doing my best."

"Be safe," I heard, soft, but clear.

I forced a snort, drawing on that humor he accused me of hiding behind, I guess. "Just because you said that I'm going to steal a car and go Fast and Furious on this town."

And not waiting for him to make a comeback to that, I grabbed my coat and left. It wasn't until I had walked a good six blocks from his house that I noticed I was still holding on to the edge of the too big sweats. I had left my jeans, and therefore my phone and wallet, at his house.

"I don't need to buy anything soon," I said. "I can get it back from him on Monday. He'll probably notice it right away since it's not kosher with his tiki mask."

Thick, hot tears, coursed down my cheeks and into the sheep wool collar of my jacket. They came fast, like a river, practically steaming in the chilly late morning air.

I didn't bother to wipe them away until I had made the long walk to my apartment. There, I snuck in as quietly as I could and managed to take a shower before Ayako caught me.

"Where were you last night?" she asked, sounding much like a mother goose despite her attempts to school her face into simple curiosity.

"Masako smashed my brain," I said simply and quietly, so as to not alert her to the rocky state of my throat or the searing, breath-stealing pain in my chest. "It made me extra vulnerable to spirits and destroyed my focus so I got lost and Professor Davis found me. He let me stay at his house because dear old Masako didn't bother giving me protection from the spirits who wanted a getaway car."

I sensed more than saw her stiffen. "Mai, are you okay?"

"Dandy." Five steps to my bedroom. Five steps to safety.

"The professor didn't do anything to you, did he?"

"Of course not. I slept on his couch and left."

"Yeah, but…you know I'm here if you need me, right?"

"Yeah!" I tried some enthusiasm in that, but my throat just cracked. I made a beeline to my room.

"Mai?"

I closed the door behind me just in time for a new wave of tears. I crumpled to the floor, not unlike I had the night before, and crawled to my bed where I curled up in my mom's Navajo blanket. But the comfort it once gave couldn't touch this. This…this pain…oh God, Father,…Daddy.

I couldn't breathe.