REVENGE AND HAIR GEL DON'T MIX.
The classroom clock shows 8:44. Class starts at 8:45.
I look at the empty seat beside me and smirk.
So, Ishida Yamato thinks he can insult my goggles does he? This will show him.
My smirk widens.
It started innocently enough. He was over at my house watching the soccer last week, and made some random remark about me needing to take more interest in my appearance if I wanted a girlfriend. I'd snorted at that, telling him that I didn't need a girlfriend--after all, he spent quite enough time in front of a mirror to classify. At that point he retaliated by saying that at least he had style which was something certain big haired idiots who considered goggles a valid fashion accessory could learn from. If my mother hadn't walked in with dried kumara chips and dip just then our friendship would have been over. Still . . . that comment had hurt, even given the fact that my goggle's were now Daisuke's. But I was about to be generously compensated for the hurt that remark had caused.
My smirk as the clock ticked to 8:45 rivalled the Grinch's. I, Yagami Taichi, was evil.
A full five minutes later, Yamato walks in.
"Sorry I'm late," he says to our teacher.
I duck my head down quickly. Don't look at his hair, don't look at his hair, he'll know you did it--As he slides into his usual seat I cast an innocent sideways glance, one that could easily be taken as wondering why he was so late, on him and pause--One. His hair is immaculately styled per usual. Two. He looks seriously angry.
"Dude," I whisper, once the teacher's attention has returned to the front. "What's wrong?"
"Tell you at break," he says shortly, running his fingers through his fringe. Slightly unnerved now I turn back to my work and try and concentrate on the lesson. The last time I saw Yamato this angry . . . I don't even want to think about it.
I'm even more worried when at break he insists that we go into one of the unused music rooms before he'll tell me anything. He's going to kill me and he's chosen an out of the way place so that no-one will hear my screams--
"So, what happened?" I ask, hoping like hell my innocent routine will work. I don't want to die before I've made the A soccer team, dammit--
Yamato sighs again, ruffling his spiky fringe. "Sora broke up with me."
I stare at him. It takes a moment for what he just said to register. "She did? But--why?"
"We had this fight, last night. We were going to go out on a date--"
He had a date with Sora last night?
Forget the A team.
I'll be lucky if I live through this week.
"And?" I prompt, fearing the worst.
"I had to cancel. Some moron switched my hair gel for vaseline and I couldn't go out looking like that. I tried explaining that to Sora and she got really mad for some reason, and then when I pointed out that she could pay spending a bit more time in front of the mirror herself she just went berserk." Yamato shook his head. "I do not understand girls at all."
"Me neither dude," I said. "But, she'll get over it. I mean, you've had fights before, right?"
"Just before she hung up on me, she swore there was no way she was ever, ever getting back together with me," Yamato said, screwing his hands into fists. "When I find out who that was who switched my gel, I am going to pulverize them . . ."
"It's not that bad," I told him hastily. "You'll find another girlfriend easy--I mean, there are tons of girls who'd want to go out with you--"
"It's not that simple, Taichi. I really liked Sora, you know?"
I blink at him surprised. The way he's turned to me, his usual cool façade is gone, and I can see the very real hurt in his eyes. Hesitantly I reach out and put a hand on his shoulder. "I didn't know. The way you two carried on about each other--look, dude, it'll still be all right, you'll see . . . come on, forget school. I'll make it up to you, okay?"
Yamato snorts. "And what are you going to do, Taichi?"
--oOo--
We end up sitting on a bench in a park, eating chips I bought from a fish and chip store and throwing half of them to the ducks that live in the pond, talking about Sora, girls in general, and all sorts of junk.
"I don't see why girls have to be so clingy. They're okay when they're your friends, but you ask them out for an ice-cream and then its 'Where were you last night? Why didn't you phone me?' like I don't always have band practice Thursday. Or then they complain that I'd rather spend time with a dopey little kid than them--Sora was the only one who understood how important Takeru was to me."
"There'll be someone else out there who will," I tell him. "It may take you a while to find them, but trust me, there'll be someone."
"What if there's not? What if Sora's the one for me and--"
I snort. "I don't believe the 'there's one perfect person for everyone' theory. I mean, sure it's great sounding and it practically fuels the music industry, but I think that if people were meant to fall in love once, and only once, a. There would be more obvious warning signs, and b. There would be fewer divorces."
"So what do you believe about love then, Taichi?" Yamato asks, looking at me curiously.
I blush. Can you believe this is the first time in our friendship we've actually discussed this topic? "Let's see . . . I believe love happens for no reason, and is no-one's choice, recognizes no gender, age or racial barrier, and makes the guys on my soccer team do weird things."
Yamato snickers and I grin at him, before continuing. "Love can last a lifetime, or a day, comes and goes many times, but when it's there and its mutual you have to grab onto it and hold onto it at all costs because you don't know how long it will last--" I shrug. "That's about it."
"You've never had a girlfriend, have you?" Yamato asks.
"Not as such. I had a crush on Sora for the longest time, but when she went out with you we kind of ended up as friends," I shrugged. "Somehow that's enough. I don't feel like I need a girlfriend--"
"You had a crush on Sora?" Yamato blinked. "When was this?"
"Forget about it," I growl, not a little uncomfortable with this sudden scrutiny. "I'm a lot happier with Sora as a friend. Do you remember the whole hair-clip incident?"
Yamato snickered. "Actually I think I remember Koushiro mentioning it to me once. You guys actually had a huge fight over a hair clip?"
"You see my point? I still don't know what I said," I shake my head in confusion.
"That's the problem with Sora. You never know how she's going to take things. I mean, she acts like a boy playing sports and hanging out, playing video games with me, but she wants you to treat her like a lady, and then when you do she goes and gets mad anyway--"
"See? You're better off without all that."
Yamato reaches over and touches my shoulder. "Thanks Taichi. You really are a great friend--cutting class and everything to try and make me feel better--"
I flush. If he only knew how guilty I feel--"Hey, do you feel like an ice-cream?" I ask, hearing the music of the trolley. "My treat."
"Sure," Yamato says. "Hey, aren't you going to ask what flavour I want?"
I stick my tongue out at him. "Rum and Raisin, if they've got it, boysenberry or something slightly sour if they don't."
Yamato manages an impressed grin. "How well you know me."
I shrug. "You're my best friend. What am I supposed to do?"
We eat the ice-creams slowly, walking back to school--he has music after lunch, I have PE, both subjects that we don't want to miss. Yamato seems a little happier--with any luck he won't kill me.
--oOo--
The next day Yamato is late again. I slump in my seat trying to work out what this might mean. Is he planning some horrible revenge? Maybe he waited until I left for school and then went round to my house, pretending he had to pick something up like I did with the hair-gel. Maybe he's at this moment doing unspeakable things to my prized collection of soccer posters or my collection of junk food or my video games or--
By the time Yamato enters the classroom shooting me a brilliant smile as he does so, I'm a nervous wreck.
Does he know? I raise my eyebrow as he takes his seat.
"Just taking care of a little job before school," he says, turning obediently to the front as our teacher enters.
That does not sound good. I'm relieved when we have to change classes--a relief that turns out to have been the slightest bit premature as it turns out. I come into History and plonk myself down on my usual seat--
"Ow!" I stand up, rubbing my backside. I'd encountered something sharp--
I wasn't expecting the item I found on my seat. A slightly squashed rose? I picked it up, wondering as I did so, what it was doing there. Had someone not been able to find any pins?
"Is something wrong Mr. Yagami?" Our history teacher asked.
"Um, no. I just sat on a rose." Our teacher was now staring at me. "Someone put it on my seat," I explained.
The girls in my class giggle. "How romantic!"
"It wasn't romantic," I glare at them. "That hurt!"
"You probably weren't supposed to sit on it," our teacher said with a dry smile. "Now, if I may direct your attention away from Mr. Yagami's love life for a moment--"
I put the rose firmly out of mind during History. In Maths, next class, I find another rose inside my desk. In English I discover someone has placed rose petals throughout my textbook and the teacher makes me stay in after class to pick them all up. Then when I open my locker fifteen roses fall on me at once.
I'm walking home after school, feeling like a florist's display when Yamato falls into step beside me.
"That's a lot of roses," he observes casually.
A little too casually. He should be teasing me for having finally found a girlfriend or--I narrow my eyes.
"You sent them to me, didn't you?"
"Uh huh."
I should have known. So what is this--cruel and unusual torture?
"I have to go--I have band practice," Yamato said. "I'll catch up with you later. But here."
He hands me another rose.
"Um, Yamato? Why are you giving me flowers?"
He squeezes my shoulder. "Because you're my best friend and I want you to know how special you are to me."
I watch him go absolutely confused.
--oOo--
I am very careful to check my seat before sitting down the next day, but there appear to be no roses in sight. Maybe that was it, maybe he's going to decide I've suffered enough--but Yamato gives me that same brilliant smile as he enters the classroom.
"How are you?"
"Fine," I ask, worried. He's never asked how I am before. Probably wondering how I'm bearing up under the strain of my guilty conscience.
Yamato unpacks his books or something and fiddles with them on his desk. "Taichi, you doing anything this afternoon?"
"I did have soccer practice, but it got cancelled. Our coach's daughter's getting married," I say.
"I was wondering. You wouldn't like to go and get an ice-cream with me, maybe a movie?"
"I can't. I'm broke."
"It would be my treat."
What is he trying to do? Kill me with kindness? Then it dawns on me. He thinks its me--but he doesn't know for certain. That's why he's acting the way he is, in the hopes that I'll snap and confess and then he can inflict whatever horrible revenge he has planned--I swallow. What are my options? Well, I can run screaming into the hallway, but that would kind of let him know I did it, or I can act cool like this is totally fine and maybe he won't suspect a thing--
I try a smile. "Sounds great, Yamato."
"Cool. Well, I'll meet you after school."
He turns away. Man, talk about having butterflies in your stomach--it feels like I have elephants down there.
It doesn't go away either. If anything it gets worse as the day progresses. Just the thought of spending all that time with Yamato--I'm going to snap for sure.
He's waiting for me after school totally cool and collected per usual.
"Hey, what happened to your band practice?" I asked as we began the walk to town.
"I decided spending time with you was more important."
"I'm flattered," I say with a laugh. Inwardly I'm petrified. Whatever he has planned to do me must be horrible if he's willing to miss band practice for it. "So what movie are we going to see?"
"We'll see what's on when we get there."
Yamato buys me popcorn, then leaves me by the candy bar while he goes to get tickets. I can't even eat the popcorn--I feel like it's choking me. Maybe this is Yamato's plan. He knows I'm too wracked with guilt to enjoy any of this and--
"I'm back! Come on, Taichi, we're in theatre one!"
I squeak. "Yamato--you startled me--"
He laughs. "I kind of noticed. You looked like you were on another planet or something."
I glare at him. "Well you didn't have to pinch my butt."
"Ah, but your butt is just perfect for pinching," Yamato pulls me after him towards the theatre. "Come on."
My face is now the brightest red it's ever been. What did he just say?
Is this part of his revenge?
I'm further confused once we take our seats and he slips an arm very casually around my shoulders. What is he up to? Obviously he's noticed that his scheme isn't working so he decided to up the action a bit. Well, two can play at that game. Just as casually I stretch then snuggle up to him so that my head is resting on his shoulder. Take that, Ishida Yamato--
He he. He's wearing cologne--I stifle a laugh. It actually smells rather nice to tell the truth--
Yamato slips his arm around me again, and we watch the movie. This is rather nice, come to think of it. Too bad, he's going to kill me--
Then the movie finishes. It's rather late so Yamato amends his offer of an ice-cream to tea at a fast food place. I phone home to let them know what's going on.
"Tai? Where are you?"
"I'm in town with Yamato. We're getting tea together," I hesitate, looking over to where Yamato is choosing seats for us. "Hikari, if I don't make it home tonight--give my soccer posters to Daisuke, and my copy of Treasure Island to Koushiro, and you can keep anything of mine that you want, okay?"
"Um . . . sure. Has someone on your soccer team dared to you to eat some unidentifiable substance again, or--"
"Gotta go, see you later!" I hope, I added mentally, hanging up.
"No problems, then?" Yamato said with a smile as I took the seat opposite from him.
"None," I said trying to sound cheerful. If only my stupid voice would stop squeaking--Yamato must know by now.
"Good," he said with another beautiful smile, handing me a menu.
The waitress came, to take our orders.
"I'll have a salad please, and a garlic bread to share I think . . . Taichi?"
About to make my order I squeaked. Yamato's leg had just brushed against mine--and for some reason I didn't think that was a casual contact. Yes, he'd just deliberately wrapped his foot around mine.
"Your order, please?"
Huh? Oh the waitress--I gulped, looking down at the menu, blood flooding my cheeks. "I'll have a ch-cheeseburger, please."
"Any fries with that?"
Man this was surreal. Yamato was over there, grinning at me like the Cat from Alice in Wonderland, looking as innocent as hell and playing footsie with me--
"Taichi? She asked you if you wanted fries?"
"Huh? Ah, I guess so--"
The waitress left. Yamato smirked at me, leaning back in his seat as he casually ran a foot up the length of my leg. Well, was I about to let him get away with that? Of course not. I kicked off my own shoes, and reached for Yamato's legs.
When the waitress returned with our orders she had to clear her throat twice before we noticed. "Here's your garlic bread. The rest of your order won't take a minute."
"Thank-you," Yamato said. "Well, Taichi? Eat up--you can't have lost your appetite."
Yay for my famous appetite. It gives me something to do at least. I bolt my portion of it down, fully conscious that Yamato is watching me. I don't know how much more of this I can take--
"It's very good garlic bread," I say when the silence gets too much.
Yamato smiles and puts his hand across the table so that it covers mine. "Yes it is. We should do this more often."
I choke.
"Are you okay? Stay here, I'll get you some water."
I nod, trying to get myself back under control. Actually, apart from the whole, I want to die because I feel so awful thing, this has been kind of fun. Don't know what it is about Yama, but he's kind of nice to curl up on--too bad this isn't for real.
"There," Yamato sits down next to me as he hands me the water.
"Thanks." I drink, noticing as I do, that he's taken my hand again. Man, he just won't let up. You can handle this Taichi, you are tough--you won't break--
What to do? I decide that putting my drink down makes a good start, then turn to talk to him--Hell! When did he get so close?
"Taichi," he says, leaning even closer. "You know, I never noticed how cute you are when you're nervous."
"Nervous?" I start indignantly and then my brain catches up with me. "Cute?" I squeak.
And then Yamato pushes me back into the back of the booth and kisses me.
At first I protest, this is going a bit too far even if I did mess up his hair--and then I'm past protesting. I only want this to last-
You know, I think I see the point of girlfriends--
"One salad and one cheeseburger?" Yamato returns to his side of the table as the waitress returns. She sets our respective meals in front of us. Neither of us makes a move to eat though.
"Taichi?"
I make several attempts and then finally manage to get my voice to work. "I think this has gone far enough, Yamato." I look up and meet his eyes miserably. "I've got a confession to make."
"Oh, Taichi," Yamato scoots round to sit by me again, putting an arm around me. "You don't need to tell me. I already know."
"You do?" I say weakly. "But why--when--"
"It was in the park, when you were telling me what you thought about love--the way you blushed, and then when you treated me to ice-cream. I couldn't believe I hadn't seen it sooner."
"You knew all that time?" If my voice stays up there any longer, I'm never going to get it down again. "But--why are you being so nice? Don't you want to kill me or something?"
"Kill you? No way," Yamato squeezed my hand. "At first I was a little surprised. I mean, you're my best friend, and I'd never even considered you in that light. But what you said about love knowing no gender made me think, and hey, you've always been there for me. From the digital world, to breaking up with Sora--I can think of no-one I trust more, or would rather be with."
Now I was lost.
This was some sort of building up my confidence thing, right? He was going to let me think it was okay because we were friends and then do something terrible--"You're still upset about Sora--" I blurted.
"Sora? Nah. I think breaking up with me may be one of the best things Sora's ever done. We were meant to be friends, not dates. In fact, next time I see Takeru I might actually have to thank him."
"Thank Takeru?" Now I was totally lost.
"Yeah. I'll have to get him a new hat too--I put his hat through the shredder for switching my hair gel with Vaseline."
I think my heart stopped. "T-t-takeru?"
"Don't let that little innocent angel act fool you," Yamato continued. "He's forever going through my stuff."
"Takeru?"
"Taichi, are you okay? You look . . . faint."
"I'll be okay--just give me a moment." I very carefully managed to get upright and make it outside. I collapsed onto a bench with a sigh. What on earth had happened?
Yamato didn't know it was me--which meant he wasn't out to get me--which meant all of the last few days made no sense at all.
"Taichi, are you all right? You've been out here a long time."
"I'm trying to make sense of this," I said. "I don't see what you want from me."
"Isn't it obvious?" Yamato took the seat beside me. "I thought I'd made it perfectly clear--as clear as your feelings were. I like, respect even admire you immensely, and I want to go out with you, Taichi."
That was the last straw for my shattered nerves. I burst into tears.
Ten minutes later, a lot blotchier but considerably calmer, I was leaning against Yamato as he rubbed my back and told me soothing things. I half-listened, deep in thought. No one had ever cared so much about me, or shown me so much attention. I couldn't bear to loose Yamato's friendship--the only possible result of telling him about the hair gel now.
"What's the matter? I promise you I won't get mad. If I've made a mistake--"
"It's my mistake," I whispered. "I--in the park. It wasn't what you think--"
Yamato gently tips my head up so I can see his sky blue eyes, looking seriously into my own. "What is it, Taichi?"
"I--uh," I gulped. I couldn't do it. I couldn't disappoint him--not after I'd put him through so much. "The discussion. I really didn't mean anything by it--I mean, I like you more than I like anyone else but I'd never thought--Never even considered--"
His eyes soften compassionately. "I'm moving too fast for you? That's okay, Taichi. We can take things slowly if that's what you want."
I shut my eyes, miserably. I couldn't hurt him, I cared too much about him--hang on, care?
It couldn't be--it could.
"Taichi?"
There was only one way to be sure . . . "Yamato, this probably sounds weird but, could you kiss me again?"
He laughed, moving closer to me. "You'll never have to ask that twice."
A few minutes later we finally untangled ourselves, both out of breath and with slightly glazed expressions.
"I've got to admit," Yamato said, leading the way back into the restaurant. "I seriously owe Takeru."
"Me too," I added fervently.
END.