Angelique giggled at Tracy’s coy shrug.
“I told him I’ll think about it. He’s cute so I might. But I'm in the same situation as you guys. My parents can't know either…”
Maybe Tracy had spoken too soon.
Following their lunch period, the girls made the trip to their lockers. They’d arrived at Tracy’s locker first and that’s when they saw the writing in red: GO HOME. THIS ISN’T CAMPBELSTAN.
The four friends were left gaping, first at the locker, then at each other. Tracy's once smirking face paled, robbed of its vitality. Before any of them could ask the questions, who had done this and why, Tracy vanished, steamrolling through the halls. Angelique turned and ran after her. Gabrielle rubbed at the writing. She gazed down at the streak of red on her hand.
“It’s lipstick,” she murmured.
Things had gotten out of hand. Haruna and Gabrielle debated whether or not to tell a teacher, but decided it would only make things worse. Before any attention could be drawn, the girls removed the words, but took photos first for evidence. It wasn’t until 3 PM when Haruna heard about Tracy’s problems again, except she didn’t hear about them from Tracy. It was Gabrielle who’d heard from Angelique who'd heard from someone else that Tracy had gotten into a fight with Debbie— slapping Debbie in the face after she’d spat on her—and both of them had gotten a suspension. Haruna was devastated. Her friend had gotten suspended after reacting to something stupid that someone else did. And that wasn't all. A suspension at a private school like Shady Glenn Academy was a big deal. Administration was under no obligation to keep someone around if they thought they were a problem. But that’s how everything had turned out.
The week had been nothing but a downer.
Did it help that things had gotten even stranger between Haruna and Ryu? For the last few weeks, he had said things that left her wondering. He had listened to her weirdo-rambling about parakeets and Alice in Wonderland, which, thinking back, had been pretty embarrassing. But then he apologised for hurting her feelings so many years ago, and it left her awestruck. In a good way.
Haruna was beginning to think that Ryu might like her. For real. And for some reason, this thought—along with Ryu becoming sweet, kind and ridiculously hot all of a sudden—made her realise she was slowly falling for him too. For real. Actually, the whole idea of making things interesting was beginning to sound, well, interesting.
Oh, but at Tracy's party, everything changed.
All Haruna wanted was to have a good time with her friends while secretly getting back at her grandmother. Ryu was her way out. He showed up even on short-notice. He picked her up at the church as promised. He told her she “looked nice,” a compliment, and everyone knew Ryu wasn’t one to give those out freely. Even if he was disappointed that her gift was only a prayer book, he still accepted it. And she was excited because in that moment she thought maybe she’d proven how wrong Mani was. It wasn’t right to judge a person by the cover. Yes, Ryu was kind of a bad boy, but he wasn’t a player. He also wasn't shallow like Mani was. Ryu was different. But when Seth had pressured him to confess who he liked, Ryu refused to say. He took off.
That’s when the confusion set in, because Haruna was pretty sure Ryu had looked right at her when Seth asked the question. It was then she knew. She wanted to be the person that Ryu liked. But she couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t say it. It could be that she had misread him entirely, over-analysing stupid things like compliments and apologies. Oh wow. What about the whole onigiri-chopsticks-thing? What if Ryu really meant it when he said he’d “made too many”? Or what if offering it to her was just him trying to be friendly? Worse questions followed like a tidal wave. What if Mani was right? What if Ryu was leading her on? What if there was someone else she didn’t know about?
Haruna slapped her hands over her mouth. She gasped.
What if he was—like Angelique once thought—gay?
On the car ride back to the church, they hadn’t spoken, and they hadn’t spoken since. Ryu pulled the usual disappearing act, and if it weren’t for the fact that they shared a class together, she wouldn’t have known he was around. It was mind-numbing how difficult he was to understand, but what worried her most were the cuts and scars on his arm. And when she really thought about it, she’d never seen him with short-sleeves. Ever.
Why was he so confusing? Why was he like this?
And why had she let herself become so delusional?
For the next several days, a dark cloud hung over the three remaining friends. Third week of December meant the pressure was on to tie up loose ends on university applications. The girls had spent what free time they had speculating on Tracy’s fate, but before long it became too difficult to talk about. By the time Friday’s fifth period had come around, Haruna noticed Arlen was his typical soundless self. Haruna couldn’t even pretend to smile anymore. It was too much. If her life was going to be a mess, the least she could do was unravel the disarray that was soon to be Tracy’s. Without a doubt, Tracy would do the same for her.
The final bell had rung. It was the trigger that set Haruna off. Arlen got out of his seat to leave, but before he could go anywhere, Haruna stormed over, fuming. She latched onto his arm, spinning him towards her, forcing him to acknowledge her with his faux-innocent, eye-linered blue eyes.
“Your sister got Tracy suspended—maybe expelled! How can you just walk around like everything’s okay? Do you get a kick out of messing with a girl’s feelings or something?”
Arlen faltered. “Huh?”
“Haruna?” Angelique called, one onlooker among a small few that hadn’t left yet.
“Don’t pretend like everything’s okay when it’s not. Your sister is ruining my friend’s life and you say you ‘like’ her? How can you like her and not even care what happened?”
“That’s not true! I do care!” Arlen‘s usual shyness was replaced with defensiveness. “I don’t know why my sister did what she did—but she’s not a bad person. She’s just angry.”
“So that makes it okay?”
“It doesn’t make anything okay. Ever since our dad left, she’s been acting out at everyone—even me. So how can I stop her?”
“How? How? I’m sure you can find a way, you jerk! Have you even tried?”
“Haruna, that’s enough. Just leave him alone,” Angelique urged.
Gabrielle butted in, “It’s not his fault—”
“Not his fault, not his fault—lies! Can no one take responsibility for anything anymore? Everyone just runs away from problems and can never admit to anything. I’ve had enough!”
Haruna lifted her bag from her chair and bolted out the room. Everyone was a coward. It made her sick.
Haruna might have made it down the hall, she might have even made it farther than that, but before she could make it anywhere, she felt the tug at her elbow pulling her away. Before she could draw enough breath to form a scream, she saw Ryu and the finger pressed to his lips. He led her to the nook of a dead-end hallway beside a janitor's storeroom. He released, and she braced back against a wall of lockers. Ryu gazed intently at her, neither saying a word, their shallow breathing the only sounds between them. He pulled back and pocketed his hands, leaving a metre’s distance.
“What is wrong with you?” Ryu asked.
“What do you mean ‘what is wrong’ with me? What’s wrong with you? You just dragged me over here like a crazy person!”
Ryu’s composure didn’t change. He lifted a hand from his pocket to run it through his hair. “Uh, you just flipped out at Arlen—for no reason. That stuff you said? What was that even about?”
“I had a very good reason, actually,” Haruna said, crossing her arms.
“This isn’t you.” His eyes narrowed. “I heard what happened to Tracy, but that’s not the only thing. You haven’t been yourself all week. I… noticed.”
“Oh, you did? So? What do you care? You’re not even around.”
“Absolutely I… car
e.” The last word came out uneven. Haruna felt the blood rush to her cheeks as he whispered, “You’re mad at me—not Arlen. So just tell me you’re mad at me.”
“Do you do it on purpose? Messing with me?” Haruna turned her head, avoiding him. “What does it matter, anyway? It’s not like we’re…” She could feel the tears flood her eyes and she sniffed, fighting it. She didn’t want to cry again. Not in front of him.
“You want to know how I got that bruise? I got it because my grandmother hates you.” Haruna’s breaths rattled, but she continued on, “She’s mad all of the time. To her, I never do anything right. She hasn’t picked up a bottle in twelve years, and yet everyday she drinks more and more. And I don’t know why—I don’t know why she’s so angry. And everything is wrong. Everything is falling apart!”
Haruna couldn’t contain it anymore, she could feel herself also falling apart, her heart, her insides ripping and tearing to shreds. The tears flowed until they dripped off her chin and along her neck.
“I’m sorry…” he whispered.
“If you're sorry, then why won’t you be straight with me? Why do you always walk away—can’t you see that I care about you!” Haruna must have been on the verge of losing her sanity. She couldn't even make sense of what she was saying or why she had blurted out so much. Way too much.
Yet that was all it took.
Haruna shuddered, feeling the touch of his hand at her cheek, first drying the tears. She turned to face him. She watched through a mist of tears, the way his brows knitted together. He eased in steadily, closing the remaining space between them. His arm lowered to her shoulder, his other hand, his fingers slid through her bangs, gently brushing them away from her eyes as though drawing back curtains. For a split-second, Haruna was wide awake, so suddenly aware of everything. He was going to kiss her, and she wanted him to. She really wanted him to.
But that desire was met by a subtle smell. Suddenly she was reminded of what frustrated her the most. His apathy. She flung her arms out and pushed him back.
“You’ve been smoking.”
"I'll quit for you," he said, his voice airy.
Haruna felt the words pinch at her heartstrings, just a little. But it wasn’t enough.
“Why do you cut yourself?”
Ryu frowned. The daze vanished and his mood did a 180. He pulled away and dug his hands into his pants pockets. “Why do we have to discuss this?”
“You can’t hide it forever. If you cared about me for real, you’d tell me. You'd trust me.”
Ryu paused. He looked hesitant in one second, somehow determined in another. To Haruna, he resembled old photos that she’d seen from history textbooks; young boys suited up for war, so brave, so willing and ready, and still somehow so uncertain. He groaned.
“God. This is embarrassing. I don't know, okay? Maybe 'cause it takes away the stress.”
He looked to his watch. “Anyway, I gotta go. Later.”
Seriously! He was going to walk away again like he always did. Haruna was tired of this happening over and over. Fine. If he wants to walk away, let him. She pivoted and marched in the other direction. Smoking took away the stress. Cutting took away the stress. What in the world was making him so stressed? Something was seriously wrong with him.
Haruna froze mid-step. Something’s wrong with him. She looked back. He’d headed in the direction of his locker. How could she let this go? She’d confessed to what was bothering her, but he’d confessed nothing. She spun and raced back. She was going to get a straight answer, even if she had to force it out of him. Haruna rounded the corner, stopping in time to see him slam his locker door, his uniform newly hidden beneath his dragon-back hoodie. She called out his name.
He swivelled to face her.
Sensing he was about to move off, she pounced, tackling him by the shoulders.
“Hey—what are you—?” He shook her off. Haruna latched onto his sleeves.
“Tell me the truth!” she cried, tightening her grip, determined not to—
“Let. Go.”
“No! Not until you—”
He jerked back, franticly trying to pull away without causing a scene. He pried her off. She snatched the front of his sweater. Her hip jammed against him. Something forced its way out of his pocket…
Ryu caught the weapon split-seconds from it hitting the floor. His head shot up.
He stared. She stared.
At once they heard the voices. Students. A teacher. All coming from the next hallway.
Haruna’s mouth dropped. Ryu sprang forward, a hand clapped over her mouth, reducing her near-scream to a muffled squeal as he dragged her back, back to the deserted corner by the janitor closet. He glanced over his shoulder, craning his neck, resembling a fugitive who’d just made a big prison break.
Haruna wrenched his fingers from her face. His grip around her was tight. Her heart and head were spinning fast, so fast she thought she’d nosedive.
“What—was that?” She spluttered, gasping.
“It’s exactly what it looks like,” Ryu grunted, turning to her with a severe gaze.
“Is it real? How—why do you have a—” a gun? A GUN! Shaking, Haruna gawked down at his pocket where he’d hidden it, then directly into his eyes, irises, pupils. She begged her heart to stop, stop pounding, for the room to stop spinning, for things to make sense.
“First, you need to calm down.” Ryu swore under his breath, seeming only partway relieved now that the way was clear. He mopped his face with his palm. “You want to know why I cut? Why I’ve been avoiding you? Why everything?” He paused, dodging her eyes as he finished, “I’m a gangster! There. I confessed. Happy?”
A joke. Haruna chuckled. Delirium took her by the reigns.
"A 'gangster.’ Sure," she said, making air-quotes. "I guess everyone big into rap and stuff is a gangster?"
"I'm not making this up."
He was lying. It had to be a joke. Gun? What gun? It was fake. Why, she’d only imagined it!
“But you live in an orphanage—”
“And yet I’m still a gangster. And the gun is real.”
“You’re serious?” Haruna felt something scratch in her throat.
Ryu gave a slow nod, finally letting go. “I’m part of—well it doesn’t matter what I’m part of. Just know the so-called orphanage isn't what it looks like. I work for a boss. I do jobs for him. Rackets, dealing… sometimes other things. You know, like The Godfather or whatever.”
Oh God. It wasn’t a joke.
“You mean this whole time you called me fake… but you—you're in the freaking Mafia?” Haruna had squealed it. All of a sudden she became conscious of the fact that though the hallway was empty, someone could reappear at any moment and overhear.
“We’re not Italian,” he scoffed. “To call us the Mafia is almost insulting.”
“Oh shut up! Do you hear yourself? ‘Us’? Are you actually proud of this? Here's what you are—a criminal!”
He shrugged.
Haruna could feel her mind swimming. Why was he so calm? Why?
“Wait— have you… ever killed anyone?” she asked. Ryu continued to stare back at her, wordless. Her heart sank. “You have! You're a murderer too!”
He winced and fidgeted. “Why do you have to say it like that…”
“How could you keep this a secret?”
“You think it would be better if I told you what I do every weekend? While you’re off in church, I’m out there just trying not to get caught? Listen. They’re not nice people, the people I… take care of. They’re just as bad as I am. I do the world a favour getting rid of them. Maybe I'm like, I dunno, Robin Hood?”
Haruna lowered her head, eyes to the floor, horror-struck. So that was the truth. Ryu wasn’t just a slacker. He wasn’t merely a guy who said and did whatever he felt like. He wasn’t even a rebel without a cause. He was neck-deep in the seedy world of organized crime. He was dangerous—extremely, insanely
dangerous. And still he fancied himself some sort of cool antihero?
Ryu let out a breath.
Haruna jumped out of her skin as though struck by a hurricane.
“I guess that’s it, then. Someone like you can’t be around someone like me. Your reputation. That’s what you’re worried about, right?”
Haruna snapped her head to glare at him. “That’s not what I’m worried about. I’m worried about whether you’ll be hurt! How do you know you won't get hurt, Ryu? Or worse?”
“I don't. Does it mean you won't take a chance either way?”
"You say it like it's nothing. I bet its unsafe just being around you. Like, how do I know you won't hurt someone? Or hurt me?"
Again. Silence.
"Don't tell me—you don't know that, either?”
Haruna couldn't take it. She sprung from the locker and was off like a jet, bounding through the hall, her heels ricocheting echoes behind her. She could hear him following and calling her name, and she’d suddenly become the lead in some bad horror movie. Haruna rammed through the doors. A staggering wind thrust her back. The dim of cloud cover billowed overhead. Haruna faltered, sheltered by the overhang of the building. She heard the door swing open and his shallow steps. She whipped around just short of his fingers reaching, touching her shoulder. She glared back at him as he offered a misplaced, poorly-timed half-smile.
“Good and bad. It’s all relative isn’t it? Like we said during our presentation for Merchant of Venice, remember?”
Haruna only continued to glare coldly. Ryu was still smirking until he registered her seriousness. He let out a loud groan and flung his hands into the air. "Sorry. I'm not good with this stuff, okay? I told you the truth. Honestly, what do you want me to say?"
"I don’t want you to say anything! I want you to quit—whatever it is you do!"
“Quit? That’s not how this works. I have a duty—son to a father, youth to an elder, student to his master. It’s a brotherhood. To walk away is…”
Haruna balked at the way he spoke, in such a rehearsed, scripted tone.
“These people might send you to your grave. Does that sound like something a brother would do?”
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