Eloise tried to keep her damned blush from crawling up her cheeks in the middle of her classroom. Her job. She was at work. Not a concert. Not in her living room watching a drama or concert specials. She wasn’t even watching a press conference on TV. She was at work, and the kids were already going to have too much to say about this. She was at school, and he had been here.
She couldn’t help the whine that escaped as she walked with her errant book back to her desk. The girls who had seen Gakino Yoh looked at her with wide eyes.
Crap.
They knew who Gakino Yoh was. Would it be all over the school before lunch? Oh God. Would her boss find out? What would he say?
Would the Senator find out?
No. It would all blow over. Yoh would get bored waiting for her and leave eventually if he hadn’t already.
Eloise held the book in her hands and caught herself staring at it. She shoved it in her bag, unopened and unexamined.
Her mind wouldn’t stop churning over the blip in her routine. At least the girls had quickly re-adjusted and it was as though nothing had happened. Except for her. She couldn’t help peering out her windows into the hallway.
Empty.
The bell rang.
The bell rang, and Gakino craned his neck to look at the entrance of the school. He settled back only when the second bell rang and the grounds had completely cleared of kids going to class.
He had to admit that the feathers had been completely for the purpose of seeing her blush again. He hadn’t known what he would say to her until he was already there, but he knew he couldn’t just hand her the book and leave. But, standing in front of her, he couldn’t keep from teasing her. He was used to playing the fool for people whose faces he didn’t know, but he very rarely got to be foolish in a way that made him smile. He wondered how she saw him. The fool? Foolish? Or, did she see him the way he saw her, full of possibility?
He told her he would wait, and he knew it wouldn’t be a hardship...even though the press interview was now impossible and he would be cutting it close on getting back to catch the plane and the video shoot. But he couldn’t go. She couldn’t get rid of him.
His phone rang.
“Yoh. You need to be here right now!”
Gakino pulled the phone away from his ear. “Yoshida-san, I’ll be there. Don’t worry.”
“Then why aren’t you here, Yoh? The interview starts in an hour and a half.”
“I might be just a little bit late, but I’ll make it. Probably.”
“Probably?!”
Gakino dropped the phone in his lap. Abandoning the conversation, he stretched his arm up to the roof of the car before gripping the back of his neck tightly with his clasped hands.
He needed some coffee.
Eloise couldn’t stop seeing Yoh as though he were still there. He hadn’t put a single foot in her room, but he had been close.
She tried to imagine him as a part of the normal and comforting scenery of her class, just to see how he would fit. It was a game she played as a child. Guessing where people and things belonged..
Would he be sitting at her desk?
No. Definitely not.
She imagined him standing next to her near the board, looking at what she wrote there. She imagined him peering at her students’ notebooks with curiosity as he wandered behind them while she taught. He would sit down of course. He would stretch his long legs out under the table. She imagined what his interested gaze would feel like, burning into her like the eyes of some kind of bird of paradise waiting for a mouse to make a move.
It didn’t make sense. Her brain exploded with the illogicality of Yoh’s presence in her life. Worse, his insistence on surprising her in the first place rendered her mute and unable to form a sentence--let alone give grammar instruction.
When one of her students fell asleep she got back to work determined to put Yoh from her mind.
"Jeff, stand up. Drink some water. Do what you need, but stay awake."
"Yes, teacher. I am sorry."
"Thank you, but don't be sorry. Just stay awake. Ok?"
"Ok."
Jeff got up and walked around the room.
"All right. Let’s review. In the sentence After the concert, the singer read a book what is the subject?"
"Concert," one of her students called out.
"Concert is a noun, and nouns are subjects, but we learned this rule yesterday. Can anyone remember why concert cannot be the subject?" All the students, except for Jeff, flipped through their notebooks.
Jeff grabbed a rubix cube off the shelf at the far end of the room and stared at the board, his brow creased, thinking. He moved the puzzle around, but didn't look at it, twisting the rows, but not solving it.
Tilting his head, Jeff answered, "Because it is o.p.?"
"Right. Exactly," she said smiling. "It's the o.p., an object of preposition."
Jeff returned to his seat to write down his notes. Gakino Yoh had been standing in this building, in these halls, and in the frame of her classroom windows. In the last few minutes he’d taken up all of the invisible space around her. Was he was still here?
She refused to satisfy her curiosity. She would not check the windows or walk outside to see if he kept his promise.
Part of her feared he would. Any rational person wanted their idols neatly packaged in fantasy, not traipsing about in real life, threatening to make a mess of everything. But another part worried that he wouldn't. Mostly though she wished she didn't have to consider the question at all. She turned around and returned to the world of grammar: a world with rules and correct answers.
Another bell rang.
Cup of coffee in hand from a Starbucks down the street, Gakino settled into the back seat of the car, watching the front of the school again.
Gakino knew she expected him to get tired or impatient and leave, but he had never felt more inclined to be still. He looked up occasionally from his spot in his car to eye the movement of the school in session. He could see kids stealing a few moments here and there to talk with friends or play basketball. A teacher’s voice would rise above the noise of the teenagers speaking Chinese to admonish or direct.
He checked his watch. There were 30 minutes left until the interview and the next bell rang.
His phone rang, too. He checked the caller ID and picked up.
“Gakino. Where are you? Everyone’s already been through the stylists.” Sano’s calm and smooth voice relaxed his shoulders.
“I’m taking care of some business. I don’t think I’ll make it to the interview.”
“Is it important?”
Gakino twisted the cardboard sleeve on his now-cold coffee.
“Yeah.”
“Important enough to make Yoshida-san angry?”
“Yeah.”
“The interview is in 30 minutes.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I have to do this.”
“Don’t miss the plane, Gakino. Yoshida will be feeling unforgiving.”
He closed the phone slowly, turning over Sano’s words.
It was important. Wasn’t it?
He glanced out the window, waiting for Curly-chan.
As she lined up the children to go outside to lunch, she couldn't keep herself from glancing around, her eyes darting back and forth. She saw a big, black car with tinted windows, nothing ostentatious or showy, just simply out of place with the cars and scooters that were usually there. Yoh was still here, and she felt relieved and happy and afraid.
What did he want from her? What if her boss saw him there? God. The humiliation of having to explain who Yoh was and why he was there...the impossibility of having to explain where she had been yesterday instead of work.
Walking inside to the commons, her mind raced. Why had he waited? What could he possibly want five minutes of her time for? Maybe she should just skip the first bit of lunch and go talk to him so he would leave. If she just left now, Don might not even know she’d left.
“Ms. Bromleig
h?”
Eloise whipped her head around, nearly unbalancing herself on the stairs leading out of the expansive cafeteria.
“Hmm? Yes?”
“Where are you going? Aren’t you coming to lunch?”
Eloise nodded, and curled her fingers into fists as she marched down the last step and into the cafeteria. When students noticed, admins noticed.
Yoh would have to wait and so would she.
Maybe he would be gone when she came back up.
The black car mocked her as she walked back inside, chattering children trailing her every move.
Gakino watched Eloise walk into what he assumed must be the school’s lunch room. When she tripped very slightly on the pavement, she looked quickly around, embarrassed and clearly wishing no one had seen her.
Except, he had seen her and felt as though this, and each blush, was tying him to her. With curiosity perhaps.
He waited for her to come through the gates to talk to him.
She didn’t. She was probably busy with lunch.
The phone rang for the eighth time in 12 minutes. He flipped it open, knowing he had little choice.
“Gakino, we will talk about the interview later, but you need to be here. Now. No, five minutes ago. Where are you?”
“I’m sorry, Yoshida-san. I really thought I would make it. This is taking a little longer than expected.”
“It’s taking time you don’t have, Gakino. Our plane leaves in two hours.”
“Look, Yoshida, even if I left now, there’s no way I’d be on the flight anyway. I’m two hours out.”
Yoshida expelled the air in his lungs in a single, forceful rush. There was silence on the other end of the phone for several beats.
“Tell the driver to go as quickly as he can. You can make it. If you leave now, right now, you can make it. I spoke to the airline and they’ll hold the plane for you and expedite you through customs. But, you need to leave right now.”
Gakino stared at the gates of the school. He’d waited this long.
He looked at his watch.
“Yoh? You owe your band members and KM. Don’t do this.”
The edge in Yoshida’s voice echoed the tension in Gakino’s shoulders.
He blew his hair out of his eyes, looking at the gate. Looking at his watch.
The bell rang.
Eloise paced the doors that led out of the school. It was her free period and now would be the perfect time to talk to him. Would he still be there? He’d been waiting for hours. Surely, surely, he was gone now.
She peeked around the wall leading to the gate.
Nope. The damned black car was still parked there.
She turned around to walk back towards the school, then turned back to the gate.
“Hey Ms. Bromleigh!”
“Hi!” She waved enthusiastically as she turned back to the school where some of the kids straggled to class.
“Where are you going Ms. Bromleigh?”
Where was she going?
“Ah, nowhere.”
“Are you leaving school? Your scooter is still parked over there.”
“You’re right. It is. I’m just stretching my legs. It’s such a beautiful day, yes?”
The kids nodded.
Eloise felt like crying in frustration as she headed back up to the school where the kids waited for her like sentries. The bell rang.
Finally, just before 4 and the end of school, Gakino knew he had to talk to Yoshida or there would be hell to pay. He’d missed their plane, and he wondered how patient Yoshida would be and how long that patience would last. The phone hit it’s third ring.
“Yoshida-san”
“Where the hell are you, Yoh? What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m enjoying a beautiful afternoon at the moment.”
“Yoh...you’re seriously going to piss me off.”
“Okay, okay. I swear, I will be back in time for the video shoot, but I need a little more time here.”
“To do what?! You already missed an interview with the local news media this morning. I’ve booked another flight for you that leaves in an hour and you better be on it. Yoh, if whatever you’re doing gets out in the media...if anyone takes any pictures of you...if you cause a scandal...it’s not just you who will be screwed. The band can’t take another scandal so soon after Hiroya’s last exploit.”
“I know, Yoshida.” Gakino rubbed at his eyebrow with his thumb and forefinger. He really did know. “But it’s too late for me to catch that flight now. Just let me take care of the arrangements. Trust me, Yoshida, for once.”
“It better be worth it, whatever you’re doing. Bye.”
The line went dead, and Gakino powered his phone completely off and tucked it deep into his pocket.
Restless energy, and maybe caffeine, made his muscles twitchy. Five more minutes and the bell would ring for the last time. She had to come out soon.
He thought about their meeting early in the day.
She’d been pushing him away from her classroom, her hands firmly gripping his biceps. He flexed them at the thought. He moved his fingers up to push at his own arms. They were firm, athletic.
But were they firm enough?
What had she felt? Did they feel thin to her? Did they feel soft?
He felt muscle there. His arms were strong and solid. It wasn’t fair! He wasn’t American. He was Japanese! Did she judge him by different standards? Did she like Japanese men?
He re-imagined how her hands had felt exactly there and his stomach tightened.
His hands rubbed roughly over his face before he got out of the car to wait for her outside.
At the end of school, she grabbed her books as she did everyday. And, just like yesterday, threw them into her book bag. She opened her desk drawer and snatched up her keys, her helmet, and the face mask she wore when she drove. She walked outside, to the rear of the school building to the lot at where she parked her beat-up Kymco, the lot the opposite of where he waited. She put her keys in the ignition. Stretched her face mask around each ear. Clicked her helmet into place. Rocked the scooter off of its stand and climbed on. When she sat down, she took a deep breath.
If he was still there, she would offer to take him to dinner. She knew a teppenyaki place close by, informal, not very date-like, comfortable, and a place she had been often. She didn't want to be chauffeured around by some strange idol and his paid driver. She didn't want to go to any of the places in Taiwan where there would be parking for a car like that.
And, if he wasn't there, she would simply drive through the school gates like she always did. Holding down her brake and punching the ignition, she cranked her scooter and backed up.
She rounded the corner. He was waiting for her at the end of the sunken drive leading to the school.
He had gotten out of the car and planted himself in front of the hood, one foot on the bumper. He crossed his arms and watched her drive up.
Eloise felt her grip on the accelerator slip and the engine of the scooter sputtered slightly as it slowed. She trailed to the left, considering how and where to meet him, wondering why he couldn’t still just be her fantasy instead of the incredibly blinding figure blocking her escape.
“You look very cool driving your scooter,” he smiled as he moved to stand beside her.
“I don’t know about cool. I’m just driving.” She pulled her helmet visor up, but didn’t push down the mask.
“You’re done with school, ne?”
“Yeah.”
“I am ready to see your world. My feathers are ready to fly, too. See?” He waggled his fingers at the feathers and smiled with a nod of his head.
“Get on.” If she jumped in with both feet, she could get this over with quickly. He would satisfy his curiosity, grow bored, and leave her to go back to a life she understood.
“Eh?”
“Get on my scooter. I’ll take you to a teppenyaki place I eat at. It’s probably different from the real stuff in Japan, but you
have to eat right?”
“We can ride in my car.”
She shook her head vehemently.
“I prefer my scooter. Thanks, though. Well, I guess if you can’t, you can’t. I should let you get back to your car. Sorry you waited for nothing.”
Before she could pull away and drive off, Yoh grabbed the handle on the rear of her scooter and threw his leg over the back, sitting as far away as he could, giving her room. His long legs seemed to act like the wings he had joked about, their angle almost humorous because of their length.
“Like this? It’s a little awkward.”
She was silent for a moment.
“You should put my extra helmet on,” she added, untangling her spare from her handle bars and handing it to him.
He strapped on the pink helmet, and away they went without another word.
CHAPTER 3
Clearly, she lacked foresight. A tall Japanese idol sat behind her, wearing her too-small spare helmet. His long legs angled out, making her balance precarious. Although there wasn’t much room on the scooter, he wasn’t touching her at all. Somehow, he was sitting far behind. He must have pushed himself slightly off the seat, resting on the rear cross bar of the bike. Looking in her side mirrors, she saw his hands clenched and balled up.
Her friends either gripped her hips with their thighs for stability, or held on to her waist, or her shoulders, but he didn’t touch her. She should have anticipated this. The men she knew in Taiwan would go out of their way to make women comfortable, scrunching themselves up on bus seats or in trains, giving the woman as much room as they could.
She leaned over to cut a sharp right at the next light. She passed a stinky tofu stand and several food stalls before she called out “Are you ok back there?”
He didn’t respond, but he might not have heard her. The wind was loud enough that he might have missed it.
She swooped through side streets and back alleys, not wanting to stop at any lights. It would be faster. Plus, she could avoid the awkwardness of trying to talk to a stranger on the back of her scooter. But he wasn’t exactly a stranger, was he? How had she ended up with Gakino Yoh sitting just inches away?
How to Date Japanese Idols (The Tenshi Series) Page 3