L-chan's notes: I don't know how many more chapters there are going to be, but we're definitely past the halfway mark at this point. It probably doesn't seem like this story is a priority of mine lately, and, well, that's true. I really appreciate the interest all of you have shown in this, and I will do my best not to disappoint you. I hope you can be patient with me while I try to get back into this. Thanks and big hugs to everyone!
Disclaimer: See Chapter 7.
Take My Advice
Chapter 8—Dear Hope
"That's it for today. Remember, our next meeting is on Thursday instead of Friday."
Most of the students left the newspaper office after Tomori's dismissal, but Meiling stayed behind. She hung back while he talked to the other writers and answered their questions before confronting him with her problem.
"Why are you doing this to me?" she whispered loudly.
He motioned her over to his desk. "In case you haven't noticed, the flu is going around, and we're short-staffed," he said quietly. He sat down and steepled his fingers under his chin. "I know you've got the column to worry about, but I really need your help."
Tomori did look a bit harried. She was immediately contrite. "Of course. I'll do whatever you need."
He gave her a little smile. "Thanks. So, the soccer game tomorrow afternoon. Try to talk to a couple of the players and the coach afterward, if you can. Especially if they win. It's always easier to write a sports piece when the team wins. They've been having a pretty good season, so it shouldn't be a problem."
Meiling nodded. "I can do that. Anything else?"
He cast a quick glance around the room to make sure no one was listening. "Just get it and the other to me by Wednesday. Unfortunately, since there's no school this Saturday, we've got a shorter schedule to work with. And you still have to be here Friday morning to get the papers out. Don't forget."
She scribbled everything down on her calendar. "How am I going to get all this done?" she mumbled to herself. She would probably go to the soccer game anyway, to see Syaoran play, but to have to write an article on top of her column, plus homework and fun... I guess no fun this week. Either that or no homework. Hmm, I wonder if I could get away with that.
"You'll be fine."
She'd forgotten how good his ears were. "Sorry. But you know me, I always have to complain."
"You wouldn't be you if you didn't," Tomori joked.
There he went again. Sometimes he acted like he liked her, and other times she wasn't sure. What are you supposed to do after a date? Do you talk about it? Do you wait for him to bring it up? He hadn't yet, and she wondered if that was a bad sign. "By the way, I had a really nice time with you yesterday," she said. Did I remember to say that yesterday? I thought I did, but maybe not.
"I'm glad. I had a nice time, too." He said it glibly, but his voice had a defeated tone to it.
Meiling frowned, her nose wrinkling in confusion. "Something wrong?"
"No, it's okay," he said, absentmindedly tucking his hair behind his ear. "I just got that definite 'friend' vibe from you, and that's good enough. Thanks for giving me a chance." He pushed his glasses up, back in business mode. "So, get everything to me by Wednesday night, okay? Email is fine, but I need it Wednesday."
"Say it fifty more times, and I might remember it," she muttered sarcastically, but she grinned at him, and he smiled back before waving her away impatiently so he could get to work.
Meiling made a last stop by her locker to pick up her books and the ever-present envelope of letters for Hope before heading home. She hated walking home alone when something was weighing on her mind. There wasn't even any traffic or stray cats to provide a suitable distraction. All she had was time to think.
He's right. I never even gave him a chance as anything more than a friend. Despite her decision to focus all of her attention on Tomori during their date, her thoughts had kept going back to Syaoran. Something would remind her of him, or she'd almost start to talk about him when she realized what she was doing. And worst of all, she kept comparing them. Either Tomori was like Syaoran for this reason, or he wasn't like Syaoran for that reason. It just added up to the fact that... he wasn't Syaoran.
Why did I do that? Tomori-kun is nice, and smart, and he likes me. He'd probably make a good boyfriend.
But not for me.
No, I had to go and like someone else's boyfriend.
And, even worse, he was her friend's boyfriend.
There was no point in denying it now. She felt horrible about it, too. And she continued feeling horrible as she went upstairs to the apartment.
"I'm home," Meiling called, kicking off her shoes and retrieving her red slippers. She neatly lined her school shoes up next to Syaoran's sneakers, wishing that he hadn't beaten her home. At least there's only one pair of shoes here. I won't have to see Kinomoto-san. "Syaoran?"
"In here," he yelled back.
She found him in his room, already working on the algebra assignment. How does he do it? The last thing I want to do when I get home from school is more schoolwork. It was one of the many things she admired about him. He was so disciplined, the combined result of his lifetime of training and something that was just born in him, that determined drive to excel. She supposed she had it, too, that inherent Li ambition, but it got lost somewhere between her more vital need for sleep and her unquenchable desire for fun. She sometimes wondered if her lack of magic had anything to do with that. But I wasn't that way when I was younger. Maybe being away from home has taken some of the pressure off. I can just be a normal teenage girl. Nothing is expected of me here.
"Hey," Syaoran said, barely looking up. "Want to study together?"
She realized she'd just been standing there staring at him while those random thoughts ran through her brain. "Okay. Let me get out of my uniform and grab a snack."
When he heard her bedroom door close, he wished he hadn't suggested it. Once again, he'd spent last night in his room, avoiding her after his bizarre realization at the movie theater. But the words had come out automatically, as if everything were perfectly normal. It was a habit for them to study together if he wasn't with Sakura, whom he also was still avoiding, and who seemed to be avoiding him as well, but he was sure that was just in his imagination. I'm being paranoid. Guilty people are always paranoid.
Meiling came back in a pink t-shirt and denim shorts, her long black hair hanging in a braid down her back. She held her biology and math books with two yellow pencils and an apple precariously balanced on top. "Since you've already started, I guess we should get the algebra out of the way first," she suggested, stretching out on his bed and opening the text to the correct page.
"Not to mention that you hate it," Syaoran added.
"I hate all of it," she muttered. "We're never going to use this stuff."
"You keep saying that, but one day, you'll be glad you learned quadratic equations."
"Oh, yeah, because it comes up all the time. 'And now, coming down the home stretch,'" she deadpanned in a deep announcer's voice, "'it's Li Meiling, on track to post a new marathon record. But first, she must solve this quadratic equation! Oh, too bad, Li-san. Maybe you should have listened to your cousin after all.'"
"Exactly." he said with a brief nod. She stuck her tongue out at him. She seemed to be doing that a lot lately. "Fine. I'll help you." He grabbed his notebook and pencil and joined her on the bed, propping himself up on his elbows. "I've finished the first six problems," he told her, pointing to the textbook's open page. "So, do half of them, and we'll see if you're getting it."
She kicked her legs back and forth and hummed off-key as she worked out the problems. She needed to distract herself, because with him sitting there next to her, she felt like she was betraying her friend. Well, if that isn't the most ridiculous thing ever, she thought with a mental roll of the eyes. We're just sitting here doing homework, like we've done for years. But why does it feel like I'm doing something wrong?
He should have insisted that they work in the dining room, which would have been more comfortable and less comfortable at the same time. But it really couldn't get any more uncomfortable than this. He started thinking about that stupid letter he wrote. He'd dropped it in the newspaper office's mail slot when he first got to school, and as soon as that white sheet of paper disappeared from his sight, he wanted it back. Damn Hiiragizawa for putting these ideas in my head in the first place. Well, it was easier than blaming himself for this mess.
If Meiling thought sitting with Syaoran to do their assignments was awkward, it just got more difficult. When they finished their homework, it was time for dinner, and they sat at the table in a strained silence. Why is this so weird? she wondered. Syaoran never was overly talkative at dinner, because their family believed too much talking during meals was bad for digestion, not that Meiling really ever understood why. But every once in a while she'd catch him looking at her strangely, and she was afraid that he could somehow read her thoughts. Maybe he could. Maybe he had this secret power that he'd never told anyone about. That must be it!
After dinner, Meiling sought a distraction from the distraction caused by Syaoran's very presence, and since he was engrossed in some insanely boring history documentary on television, she decided to start working on her letters. If she was going to have to write about the soccer match tomorrow, then tonight she needed to get as much done on her column as she could.
Her first column must have gone over really well, because today she received four more letters. With pencil in hand, she read each letter, jotting down quick, pithy answers to the typical teenage concerns. "My mother won't let me wear make-up." "My best friend is mad at me for no reason." "Why didn't that boy call when he said he would?" Maybe this wouldn't be so hard after all. She was feeling pretty good about the way her column was shaping up. And then she read the last letter.
"Dear Hope,
I've had a girlfriend for a while now, but lately I find myself thinking about someone else. I don't know why this is happening, but I think I might really like this other girl. I don't want to hurt either of them, because they have both been my friends for such a long time. What do you think I should do?
Signed,
Confused"
She'd been afraid of this. Most of the letters she'd received had contained silly problems. Okay, so they weren't silly to the people who wrote them, but at least they were simple and straightforward. But this one was different. She had to be extra careful with her answer. Some guy might break up with his girlfriend over her. Well, not over me, Meiling corrected herself, but over something I say.
She needed more information, but no matter how many times she read the letter, it just wasn't there. It was typed on a plain sheet of white computer paper, and it didn't even have an envelope. It had just been folded in thirds and stapled together, and "Hope" was again typed on the back. If she could figure out who it was from, she'd at least have a starting point for getting more details. But there just weren't any clues. It was as if whoever wrote it made sure that the letter was vague and untraceable.
The letter reminded her of her own dilemma. She had two good friends, and now she found herself interested in one of them, and she didn't know what to do about it. And, what was more, she didn't want to hurt them. But she couldn't ignore her feelings, either. But I have to, don't I?
Meiling read the signature again. 'Confused.' Yep, that's me, all right. We're badgers in the same hole. She laughed a little as a funny idea struck her. Maybe he and I should just get together. That would solve everyone's problem.
Her pencil was busy drawing doodles as she tried to come up with a serious solution for Confused. I have no idea what to say to this guy. Maybe I don't have to answer it. Maybe it wouldn't get printed anyway. But she knew she had to do that, too. That was the responsibility she took on as Hope. To help people.
But who helps Hope?
~~-~~
And that will be the issue surrounding the next chapter. I really did enjoy writing this story for a long time, but I just got more interested in my other one, and this one suffered because of it. Now I'm afraid that they're starting to sound alike ^.^; But I hope you liked this part, and, as always, thanks for reading!