Somewhere Else

Chapter 11: The Only Way Is Out (i)

Maybe when she hears it, she wouldn't think I'm strong anymore.

"I haven't told you everything yet," I say, albeit reluctantly. "The whole story."

"Then tell me," says Tatiana.

"You might hate me after you hear it." I feel tears flood my eyes and blink rapidly to keep them at bay. I've said some bad things about Finland and she's Finnish too. She might hate me as much as Aksel does now.

"Never," Tatiana promises, coming to sit beside me on the sofa. "Don't be silly, Emi. I'm not going to hate you."

"Never say never," I mutter, but I launch into a recounting of everything that's happened since I last met her on her trip to Helsinki. How long ago that feels.

Tatiana sits and listens. She's a good listener, I realise, as I stumble through my account and she lets me tell the story without commenting or interrupting. The only time she speaks is to ask for clarification on Aksel's friends.

"Wait, so Aliisa is the one that's rude to you, and Lumi is the one that's nice. What about the guys?"

"They're okay, I guess," I say. "I don't think I've really interacted much with them."

"Janne, right? And what's the other guy's name?"

"Matias," I say. "I don't know much about him, to be honest."

Tatiana nods firmly, as if filing away the information in her brain. "All right. Continue, please."

And I do. It feels liberating to lay out the whole story like this. Even with Gabi and Tessa, I didn't add in all these details – I'm doing it with Tatiana now because she is Finnish. She can tell me if Aliisa is being deliberately hostile or if it really is a cultural difference like Aksel insisted.

"I think it's a little of both," Tatiana concludes, after hearing the semi-argument between Aksel and me. "There are people who are like that in Finland, but it really isn't an excuse to treat you like that. Even among Finns, we don't like people who act this way."

"I guess Aksel was just on her side because they're good friends, then," I say.

"I wouldn't call it being on her side, though," Tatiana says slowly. "Maybe he genuinely thought it was a cultural difference. He's probably already used to her personality, if they're as close as you say. And, like I said, there are Finns who tend to be like that."

I give a non-committal hum. Cultural differences or not, I can't see myself ever liking Aliisa. There are differences you can overcome, and then there are completely incompatible personalities.

"So what happened next?" Tatiana wants to know.

I hesitate. It's time to tell her about my own frustrations regarding life in Finland and the subsequent lashing out at Aksel. I cringe when I remember the things I spewed at him after he discovers that I've been skipping class. Regardless of my feelings, I should never have said any of it in that callous manner. I should never have insulted his country, his culture, his language. I can't blame him for being angry afterwards.

Tatiana is silent as I narrate the events of my one-sided ranting in the kitchen. I try to gauge her emotions, but she's staring into the distance with only a slight frown creasing her brow.

"I'm sorry," I say, when I've finished recounting my outburst and Aksel's reaction to it. "I was frustrated and I took it all out on the wrong things. I didn't mean what I said – I don't hate your language or your culture. It was all just getting too much for me at that point."

Then I wait with bated breath to see if Tatiana will react the same way Aksel did. Maybe she'll throw me out of her apartment.

"Don't hate me," I say, when Tatiana remains quiet a moment too long. I'm horrified to find that my voice comes out in a leaky whine. I press my palms into my eyes, trying to stem the sudden onslaught of emotion. "I don't want you to hate me too."

"Oh, Emi." Tatiana shifts closer to me, wrapping her arms around me. "I don't hate you. I mean, I have to say, what you said was pretty unnecessary. But I get it – really, I do. I hate Finland sometimes, and it's my home. It would have been much worse for you."

"I don't hate Finland," I try to tell her, but it comes out more like a sob. "I just hate that I can't understand anything here. It makes me feel so stupid."

"I wish you'd told me." I look up in surprise at that and see that Tatiana is looking unsmilingly at me. "I could have helped. With the Finnish and maybe explaining something about the culture, at least."

I look back down at my hands that are clutching tightly onto each other. "Sorry," I mumble. "I didn't want to bother you with that. It seemed so unimportant."

"It must have been important," Tatiana says, "if they made you feel so bad about yourself."

"I had Aksel," I say. "He tried to help." And then I'm sniffling again to stop the snot from sliding out my nose. But even that becomes too hard and I have to cover my entire face with my hands. I must look and sound horrid. "He tried at first," I manage to say through shuddering sobs.

Until he had started hating me.

Tatiana goes quiet again. "I understand now," she says finally. "The problem between you two."

"He said he wanted me to leave," I say, and burst into tears properly. Yes. "He wants me to leave. He hates me now."

"Emi..."

"I..." I stop to succumb to a flurry of coughing, because I've accidentally choked on my own saliva. Then the snot comes flowing out and I press the side of my finger against my nostrils, trying to block it out. "He doesn't want me here anymore." Try as I might, I can't stop myself now. I'm bent over on the sofa, trying to stop my body from rebelling against me.

"Let it out if you have to," I hear Tatiana's voice from beside me. She sounds somber, as if she knows just exactly how hard I'm trying to force the sobs back in.

One breaks free. And, as I feel Tatiana's reassuring rubbing of my back, I let it all loose. The sobs come tumbling out, followed closely by an attack of the hiccups.

"He doesn't want me anymore," I repeat, and for a long time, I sit there, just letting all the combined pain and frustration release itself through my ugly crying.

Tatiana is silent. Only the movement of her hand on my back lets me know that she's still there.

"Fuck him!" I wail, roughly swiping at my overflowing eyes. By now, I'm hiccuping too badly to sound properly angry. "Fuck asshole. I was going to try, but he – he just gave up on us like this..."

I'm stopping every few words to hiccup. I briefly wonder if Tatiana can even understand what I'm saying anymore, but decide it doesn't matter.

Sometime in between my hiccuping and ranting, Tatiana has been to the kitchen and back. She hands me a glass of water. "Here," she says calmly. "Drink some of this. And breathe."

I take it from her. Then I'm set upon by a fit of hiccups. When I surface from it, I find that I'm clutching the glass like a lifeline.

"Drink!" Tatiana grabs my hand and pushes the glass to my lips.

I take a huge gulp, then unfortunately hiccup at the same time. The water goes down the wrong pipe and I bend over again, coughing this time.

Tatiana surveys me, shaking her head. She blows out a long stream of air. "Emi..." Through my wheezing, I feel her put her arm around me and pound on my back.

When I'm done coughing, I place the glass of water gingerly on the coffee table and slump back onto the sofa, utterly drained. "Shit."

"Shit is right," Tatiana observes. "It's okay. Cry if you have to. Let it all out."

The tears are still leaking out, unbidden, from my eyes. It feels like my physical body has been completely disconnected from what my brain is telling it to do. I'm a mess, and it's all because of Aksel.

"Fuck him! I hate him."

But I lower my eyes even as I swipe at the all-too-familiar wetness from my cheeks. Because, even after everything that has happened, I don't hate him.

I don't hate him at all.