Somewhere Else

Chapter 20: The Next Step (i)

I end up writing a full-fledged essay.

By the time I hit the final key and sit back with a thump, my back and neck are both protesting. Leaving the screen open to the document, I stumble out of the chair to exercise my numbed limbs.

A glance out the window tells me nothing of the time – I still haven't figured out how early the sun is setting in Helsinki as autumn approaches – but it does tell me that it's already dark out.

I've written the entire day away. I would never have thought that putting my experiences on paper, albeit digitally, would be such an absorbing experience. Even now, when I've stopped writing, the ghosts of the memories are still taking their time to fade from my mind.

Muttering under my breath, I crouch back down over the desk to peer at the time stamped on the bottom-right corner of the screen. Eighteen twenty-one. As if on cue, my stomach gives a low growl of protest.

A quick check of my phone reveals several messages – from Priscilla, from the group chat, from my mother... but none from Aksel. I press my lips together. Maybe I'm not the only one who has come to the conclusion that we shouldn't be friends.

I reply to a few of the messages to reassure my friends and family that I'm alive, then wander into the kitchen for a quick bite. There's ham and cheese in the fridge, and an almost-stale loaf of bread on the counter. I throw together a sandwich and return to my desk, cramming the sandwich into my mouth as I walk.

I'm still chewing as I sit back down in the chair and stare at the open document. The cursor is blinking innocently back at me.

So, I'm done. Now what?

***

"Submit it for the contest!" Priscilla all but shrieks.

"Calm down," says Ludo, grimacing. He is pressing a finger into his ear even as he leans away from Priscilla.

Priscilla lowers her voice, but not her level of excitement. "You should submit it," she repeats. "The deadline is still a way off. There's still time."

"I don't know..." I hedge.

"I'm not done with mine," Priscilla laments. "Maybe I'll try to finish it soon, so we can submit together!"

"I don't think it's good enough for submission."

"Psh." Priscilla waves a hand to show what she thinks of my excuse.

"Can we read it?" Zuzi asks.

"Oh yes!" Priscilla presses her hands together, bouncing in her seat, eyes shining. "I would love to."

I bite my lip, losing my tongue for the moment.

"Please?" Priscilla is looking up at me, widening her eyes in a cute look.

I have to laugh at her, but there is a knot in my stomach. I don't know if I'm ready to share my essay with anyone else yet. Especially with people who know me. For them to read about what has happened to me, what I've felt since coming to Finland in excruciating detail feels... embarrassing.

"Maybe soon," I tell her, not entirely truthfully. "It's not ready yet. I should probably read through it and edit it, or something."

Priscilla's lips melt into a pout. But, as always, she doesn't push.

Zuzi does. Tossing her head with a snort, she says, "You're always so secretive, Emi. We're your friends, you know. No one's gonna laugh at you or anything."

I shrug, smiling, but her words sting.

"That's not–" I try to say, but Zuzi has already barrelled past the topic. As she chatters on about something else, I feel a touch at my elbow and turn to see Priscilla looking at me.

"It's okay," she says. "You don't have to show us if you don't want to."

"I do," I say, pausing to absorb the shock that riffles through me at my unexpected statement. I only realise it as the words tumble out, but I'm not just saying it to get her off my back – I do mean it. "I just need some time to fix it up. Make it more readable. You know?"

Priscilla grins, happy again. She's easily mollified. "That's great! I can't wait to read it."

"Don't get your hopes up," I tell her.

She snorts, sounding briefly like Zuzi.

"I don't like sushi," Frederick is saying just as I tune back in. Having been too engrossed in our own conversation, we seem to have missed a chunk of the one between the rest of the group.

Zuzi turns on him now, offended. "What? How is that possible?"

"Actually," Priscilla says with a sheepish little smile, "I'm not exactly a big fan either. It tastes too... fishy."

"Well," Ludo points out, "it is fish."

Priscilla shudders. "Raw fish is not my style."

Zuzi groans. She turns to me, "You're half-Asian, Emi – you have to like sushi, right?"

I'd seen that coming, but I have to clear my throat before replying. "Well, I'm not Japanese, but I do like sushi."

Zuzi crinkles her nose in confusion. She doesn't get it.

"Asia is a big continent, Zuzi," Frederik says drily.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

Frederick rolls his eyes, but looks to me. He's expecting me to speak up, I realise.

"I think he just means that..." I'm not sure how to proceed, actually. Trying to find an analogy to match, I say, "Okay, it's like – Currywurst is a German dish, right? Germany is in Europe, but we wouldn't call it a European dish and not all Europeans are bound to like it."

"Okay," says Zuzi, squinting at me as she runs this through her mind. "I suppose I get it. You're half-Asian, but not Japanese, so it doesn't mean it's related to you just because it's Asian food."

I smile. That was easy.

Zuzi shrugs. "Fair enough. There are some Slovakian dishes that I don't even like, anyway."

"Are we still going to your sushi place?" Ludo wants to know.

"Well," says Zuzi. "Freddy and Pris..."

"Do they sell anything other than sushi?" Priscilla wants to know. "We could still go, and eat something else."

"I think so," Zuzi says. "They have some rice set options. Maybe the noodles, too. Ramen, I think?"

Frederick shrugs. "I don't mind." He raises his eyebrows at Priscilla, who nods as well.

Having gotten her way, Zuzi is all smiles now. "That's settled, then. What about lunch tomorrow?"

The others chime in with their agreement – or a grunt in Frederick's case – but I've pursed up my lips.

Noticing my silence, Priscilla turns to me. "What do you think, Emi?"

"It sounds great," I say, because it does. It's been a long time since I've had sushi – and it would be my first time going to an Asian restaurant here in Helsinki. "But could we do it another day? I'm not free tomorrow."

"How about next weekend, then?" Priscilla looks around to see if any of the others object. Nobody does, so she nods. "Next weekend it is."

Zuzi is eyeing me. "What's going on tomorrow?"

I shrug. "I have something on."

"Fine," Zuzi sighs, turning away dramatically. Her frizzy short hair bounces as she whips her head around. "Keep your secrets."

"Is it a Tinder date or something?" Ludo asks. I turn to glare at him, and he smirks.

"Yeah," Zuzi pipes up, "Why the secrecy?"

"Guys," says Priscilla, always the mediator.

"I'll tell you guys all about it," I promise. "If it works out."

Zuzi pounces on that. "So it is a date!"

I shake my head and laugh. She's letting her imagination get away from her. "No, it's not." I lift my bag off the ground and sling it over my shoulder. "Now, are we going somewhere, or are we going to sit around here forever?"