Obscure

fifth.

To Cas:

The next day was a Sunday and I was glad that my mother wasn’t there to wake me up telling me we had to go to church at seven thirty in the morning. Especially since I had stayed up for basically the whole night waiting for Taylor to text me or call me or something. I wanted her to talk to me, and I wanted to call her or text her so bad that it almost hurt me.

My dad, who saw the whole number exchange the night before asked me a million questions as to who she was, how’d I meet her, and why I’d like someone like her. My answers were Taylor who goes to Miller High, I cursed in front of her, and I have no idea.

He convinced me that texting a girl first after she asked for your number is a sign of desperation and that it is a very bad idea. “And I don’t care if she’s straight or bi or whatever, you can’t seem desperate. Not my daughter.” So I sat around in my bed and on my floor and in my closet all night and all day waiting for a text or an alarm or something from the beautiful black lankily tall goddess I met in a grocery store.

But I knew there was zero chance she liked girls, and there was zero chance that she’d like me even if she did, but I was happy because the first person I met here other than my elderly neighbors was beautiful and she had my number. So I really didn’t care for the moment.

It wasn’t until about six thirty that something exciting happened. I got a text saying “Hey Akira. You want to hang out?” and my dad was so happy he nearly pushed me out of the house himself.

Kiyoko decided to stay in for the day to do some job applications (Miyako wanted to stay outside with her boyfriend, who I had yet to meet at that point). She heard that I was going to hang out with Taylor, and (not surprisingly) she was against it.

“Akira,” she said while I was putting on a less than decent shirt. “Taylor isn’t someone you can really trust. She’s not the most positive person either, I mean, she’s really fucked up.”

I just smiled at my sister. “I’ll figure that out for myself, Ki. Don’t worry about me.”

“But you promised me you’d get better this year. Remember? You told me that you’d get better. Hanging out with Taylor isn’t going to help you out with that.”

Kiyoko was always a worrier, especially over me. She was the one who kept bringing attention to me and my mom’s relationship; she was the one who cared the most. Hikari was more Miyako’s case study.

I just smiled at her and walked over to give her a hug. She laid her head on top of mine and squeezed me lightly.

“I love you, Akira. I just don’t want you to get hurt again.”

I kissed her cheek and backed away. “I know. I won’t, I promise.”

Taylor was the one to pick me up instead of my dad taking me out to meet her. She didn’t say where she was taking me, or how long we’d be gone, but my dad being my dad, he didn’t care as long as I was home at eleven. He’d spend his time going online to the shelter’s website and look for dogs who wanted a home or something like that.

So I hopped into Taylor’s old Chevy pickup truck and she drove off. She was wearing jeans and a regular shirt, which made me feel comfortable in my jeans and blouse that I threw on.

She drove like a bat out of hell. Swerving from left to right, stomping on the gas pedal because she loved the way it sounded when she was speeding up, slamming on the breaks because she loved the way her body jerked forward and slammed back onto the seat as the car stopped. She drove like a madman. And I loved it. It was like a rollercoaster with her. I simply loved it.