Just as Long as We're Together

Part 1

He was the biggest Japanese boy I'd ever seen. Well, he was half white after all, with a dad he'd never really heard much from who happened to also live here in NYC. His mom was a real foxy lady though, a total babe. It was no wonder Josuke was so beautiful. His mother was Japanese and very good friends with my adoptive parents.

For a long time, I was on my own and it sucked. I had always wanted a family, and the Nijimura's took me in as one of their own. They were good people. They made me want to be a good person too. When I was younger I wanted to be just like my brother Kwasi. He was the coolest guy I'd ever known, but being cool in the way he was turned out to be bad. I learned that the hard way. He died because he was so cool; the people who he ended up getting involved with took him away from me and I vowed I'd never be cool in the same way as my big bro. Drugs and violence just weren't for me. I wanted to help people, not bring them hardship.

"Oku-chan," my younger brother called. My family used chan to refer to me even though I'm pretty sure it was for girls. They didn't like the way ku-ku of Oku-kun sounded. "Josuke-kun called. He invited you to the dance at the Japanese Community Center."

"You know that's not for me," I said to him. "I'm not really Japanese, ya know?"

"Mama said you have to go. She said it would make Ms. Tomoko happy if you and Josuke-kun were better friends." Josuke was good friends with Coco, short for Corrine, Yamagishi. She was half-Japanese, half-black. He was also good friends with Koichi Hirsch, who was half-Japanese, half-German. They considered themselves to be a part of some "hafu" club. Some of the other kids who hung around the cultural center had recently started using it as a slur against them to try and hurt their feelings. If those three who were actually Japanese didn't fit in, what made Josuke think it was acceptable for me to go to the dance?

The dance itself was lame. I'd gone once when I was in middle school because my mama made me go with my older sister, Yumi. She was away in her last year of college now, but I remember how little fun I had even then. Kwasi had been dead for about two years at this point, and mama was worried I wasn't making enough friends, so she made Yumi take me to the dance. It was put on by the center's owners every year as a celebration of the youth of the Japanese community here in our neighborhood.

"I guess if mama wants me to go," I said, already knowing I'd go. I loved my mama and I wanted to make her happy. "I'll call Josuke back now." I went to the community center often with my family, but I'd never felt like I belonged there. I never felt like I belonged anywhere. I wished I didn't feel like such an outcast but I felt like I was bag of trash in a garden of roses.

I went to the phone in the living room. It was a rotary phone that was a really ugly orange color. Papa bought it because he said it brightened up the house, like me. I just thought he was calling me ugly. I dialed one digit, and then the next. After I finished putting in Josuke's phone number it began to ring. Once. Twice. "Hello, Tomoko speaking."

"Um, hey there Ms. Tomoko, it's, uh Oku."

"Oku-chan!" she said gleefully. "How are you? How is school? How is Niji-mama?" My mom and Ms. Tomoko had the weirdest nicknames for each other. My mom was Niji-mama and Ms. Tomoko was Higashi-mama. I liked Ms. Tomoko, but she made me nervous, and she always asked me too many questions at once. I got flustered easy and always felt dumb trying to talk to her.

"I'm good. School's fine. Mama is doing well. She wants you to stop by to get some tomatoes from the garden." I hoped she didn't think I didn't like her. I just got so nervous I could barely talk.

"Ah, yes yes!" she said with the same level of enthusiasm. "I'm sure you didn't call to talk to an old lady! I'll get Josuke—JOSUKE!! DENWA!!" she called loudly. Ms. Tomoko sure was an interesting lady. "Bye-bye Oku-chan!"

I heard what sounded like the phone being set down. I waited a moment before I heard Josuke's voice. "Hey there, Oku," he said.

"What's happening, Josuke?" I inquired. I was nervous. I didn't have any problems with Josuke, but we had never been the closest of friends.

"Nothing much. Did Yuki tell you I called?" he asked.

"Yeah, he mentioned it. I appreciate the offer and everything, but I don't think the dance is really for me, ya know?" I had already committed to going, but I still felt weird about it. I didn't want to intrude on anything. I already intruded on the Nijimura's.

"Oku, me and Coco and Koichi think you're cool and should hang out more, man," he said. "You may not be a hafu, but you might as well be. Your parents are Japanese, so it's a part of you too." I almost said that they weren't my real parents, but how could I say that? They took care of me and treated me like I was their own son. I couldn't disrespect them that way.

"Aren't they going to play that old boring music?" When I went with Yumi a few years ago the musical stylings were ancient. "If there's nothing to jive to, what's the point?"

"Haven't you heard? They're letting me pick the music this year. It's gonna be far out." Far out, definitely. Good? Fun to dance to? No way. From what I recalled he only listened to the cheesiest pop music around. We'd only ever been in the same class before one time, and that was the year I first started living with the Nijimura's. It was the fifth grade and we had to present on our biggest influences. I talked about my brother, but Josuke talked about The Beach Boys. The Beach Boys. The. Beach. Boys. From that moment on I knew he was a total square—not like that was a bad thing, but still. I knew the guy was a total softie.

"You gonna play a couple of Beach Boy singles, huh?"

"There is nothing wrong with The Beach Boys!" he exclaimed, embarrassment in his voice. I felt kind of bad for making him feel embarrassed. "If you come, we can take turns playing music. How's that sound?" Why was he trying so hard to be friends with me? He had his friends, so what did I matter? I bet it was gonna be like Carrie. Invite the freak to the dance and dump pig's blood on 'em. He did have hair like John Travolta. I liked his hair, but still.

"Nobody'll even like my music," I said to him, feeling insecure. It was starting to really get to me, how little I felt like I fit in. I didn't know what to do about it either. Maybe I could just leave. I could find my real dad, who had just left me and Kwasi to fend for ourselves, and live with him again. My mom had died and my dad just up and abandoned us. That's why Kwasi even got involved with those bad people, to try and make sure I had food to eat, clothes on my back. I don't think I've ever not been a burden to someone.

"Come over, okay?" Josuke said with a sincerity in his voice that made my stomach tighten. He doesn't really mean it, I told myself. "Bring some records and we'll plan out the entire set list for the dance. I'm sure Coco will appreciate your input, considering she thinks me and Koichi are a couple of geeks."

I could say no, I thought. I don't have to try and make friends. I've always been alone. I've always been different. I don't have to try. "I—I," I started, but the words wouldn't come out. I couldn't say anything.

"Oku, I'll see you in front of my house in 15 minutes," he said. "Be there or be square. Got it?"

"Uh—." He hung up the phone and I sat on the sofa in the living room for a moment. I think I wanted to be better friends with Josuke. Something about him was really calming, reassuring. It'd just be listening to music. I didn't have to commit to a friendship. I didn't have to let him know what a socially inept loner I was. I jumped up from the sofa and ran to my room. I had a crate full of records next to my dresser and I grabbed them and ran towards the front door. I actually wanted to hang out with Josuke, and I didn't even mind I'd have to listen to his terrible tuneage.