Seven Days of You

by Cecilia Vinesse

  Alison didn’t come back, thank God, and I didn’t knock on Mom’s door to tell her I was going out. Even though I probably should have. But she would have known I was upset—she would have stood in the doorway, tapping a pen against the palm of her hand and looking worried, and that would have defeated me. I would have told her everything.

  I texted her from Caroline’s phone to say I was going out for Mika’s birthday. She texted back and told me to have fun.

  CHAPTER 27

  SATURDAY

  “THIS PLACE IS INFESTED,” MIKA SAID, wrinkling her nose.

  “Infested with what?” Jamie leaned one hand on the bar, then yanked it off and wiped it on his jeans.

  “T-Cadders.” Mika held her drink over her head and shouted, “This whole fucking place is infested with fucking T-Cadders!”

  “Watch it.” Jamie took the drink from her and put it on the bar. “You could have spilled that on your head.”

  “Psh. Or on yours.” She flashed him a manic grin.

  I swirled the tiny plastic straw in my melon soda. The ice had melted, and the glass was warm and sweaty.

  This was our third club of the night. So far, my plan to distract myself was not working out. Everywhere we went was too obnoxious. Overrun with T-Cadders and saturated with monotonous techno music that ground over the speakers like a chorus of dental drills. Since I didn’t have my watch or my phone, I had no idea what time it was. Probably after midnight? And I was still waiting for something to change, for everyone to suddenly grow comfortable with each other.

  Which was never going to happen. David had gone all sullen and broody when he realized I was with Caroline, and Mika barely acknowledged my existence. But Jamie was the worst. There was so much uncertainty in his voice when he’d said “hey,” like he was waiting for me to explain where I’d been all day. Why I’d never shown up.

  But I couldn’t. I couldn’t explain how pointless everything seemed. Couldn’t even think through the noise in my head.

  And now David had wandered off somewhere, and Mika was ignoring me, and Jamie was barely looking in my direction. (At least he was slightly more comfortable now; he’d had two beers.) The only person I could even begin to tolerate was Caroline, and she’d gone to the bathroom.

  I stood on tiptoe to see if she was coming back, but I couldn’t make out much in the thick, beer-foamy crowd. There were some black walls covered in cracked paint and wilting flyers. A few glow sticks waved lethargically in the air. Mika was right. It was infested with T-Cadders. Not just this club in particular, but Roppongi in general. T-Cadders loved Roppongi, even though it was seriously sleazy. The streets were crowded with nightclubs and bars, gaudier and seedier than the nightclubs and bars in other parts of Tokyo.

  Mika would have probably told me I didn’t like Roppongi because I was so innocent. If she was still talking to me. Which she wasn’t. She wasn’t talking to anyone except Jamie and the T-Cadders we’d been running into all night. The ones who went on and on about their summer vacations and bemoaned the start of school and happily introduced themselves to Jamie. Some of them hadn’t just introduced themselves. A few girls had touched his arm. They’d said they hoped to see him around sometime.

  Caroline came up behind me and grabbed my shoulders.

  “Hey!” she said.

  “Hey,” I said, exhaling.

  Jamie was still watching Mika, smiling at her in this lazy, relaxed way.

  “They opened the dance floor upstairs,” Caroline said. “We have to go! We have to dance!”

  “I have to finish this,” I said, stirring the straw in my soda.

  “I’ll come,” Mika said. She took a swig of her drink and handed it to Jamie.

  “Oh,” Caroline said, sizing her up.

  So far, the two of them had seemed okay with each other. Not friendly or anything, but okay. Caroline didn’t even seem that annoyed with David. She didn’t talk to him, but she didn’t cry or hurl drinks in his face, either.

  Caroline threw back her shoulders and looked at Mika like she’d just decided something important. “Great! Let’s go!”

  They threaded their way through the crowd toward a rickety metal staircase already teeming with uncoordinated teenagers.

  That left Jamie and me.

  Alone.

  A part of me wanted to lean into his chest, to touch his cheek. But another part of me—a stronger part—couldn’t put myself through it. Couldn’t try to hold on to another thing I knew I’d have to lose.

  I put down my soda. After a strained minute, he said, “How’d the moving go?” I forced my gaze up, forced myself to take him in. He was wearing a maroon hat and a gray T-shirt with the phrase PAST LIFE printed on it. I could almost count the honey-colored freckles on his nose and cheeks.

  “Fine,” I said.

  “So,” he said, his tone abrupt. “Are you going to tell me what I did to piss you off?”

  I traced my index finger through a patch of condensation on the bar and shrugged. The words were right there in the center of my mouth—you didn’t do anything—but I didn’t say them.

  “God.” Jamie ran both hands through his hair—his hat fell off, but he didn’t pick it up. “I don’t know what to do here. I waited for you all fucking afternoon.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut. He sounded so angry, I almost hated him for it. Didn’t he understand how impossible this was? Didn’t he see how much it hurt, just standing there with him?

  “I was moving,” I said. “I was busy.”

  “You were busy.” Jamie kept his hands in his hair, gripping it. “That’s it? That’s all you’ve got?”

  I picked up a tiny plastic straw and wrapped it around my fingers. “Screw you,” I whispered. “You have no idea what I’m going through.”

  “Christ.” He thumped his fist against the side of the bar, making the countertop vibrate. I jumped a little. “Of course I know what you’re going through. I’ve moved, too, Sophia.”

  “Then you should get it! I’m leaving in two days, remember? One day, actually, because it’s officially past midnight. Why do I have to hang out with you? I don’t want to.”

  He fell into a stunned silence. A girl standing on the other side of me started laughing so hard she fell against my back. I shrugged her off. The pulse in my temples was thudding in time with the obnoxious music. I crushed the straw in my palm and tried as hard as I could to blink back the tears. I didn’t want to say any of this, but I was just so—furious. Furious at Jamie for tricking me into thinking this could work. That this week could end in anything but disaster.

  “You’re being pretty goddamned selfish,” he said eventually.

  “No,” I said. “I’m being realistic.”

  He recoiled. “You’re not the only one who’s been dealing with stuff this week.”

  “Oh, whatever,” I snapped. “You left North Carolina. I’m about to leave everything that matters. Tokyo and my friends and my life here. You get to stay. And you get my friends. And you get my life!”

  He turned away from me, but I couldn’t seem to stop talking. “And to top it all off, you want me to like you! You want me to miss you. What? Is this some kind of revenge? Make me like you so I can see what it feels like to leave with a broken heart, so I can feel as awful as you did…” I trailed off. Inside, I was screaming at myself for saying what I’d just said. Inside I was begging him, Please know that I’m lying, please know that I’m lying, please know that I’m lying.

  But outside I wasn’t saying anything at all.

  And neither was he. His usually expressive face was completely closed off. He was standing right in front of me, but he was a thousand miles away.

  The T-Cadders around us whooped and hollered. Jamie pushed himself back, took Mika’s drink, and started picking his way toward the stairs.

  The ringing in my ears became a roar—a crashing as violent as a storm. The guy next to me vigorously fist-pumped the air and spilled his drink on my foot. Oh God, oh God, oh God, I
was going to fall apart, right there, right in front of all those drunk T-Cadders.

  “Shit,” I said quietly to myself. My temples continued to throb. This was it. I’d done it—I’d officially and completely ruined everything. Jamie would never forgive me after this. And he shouldn’t; I didn’t deserve to be forgiven. And even if he did forgive me, it didn’t matter now, because this was over. I was over. I was practically gone.

  “Shit.”

  I fell away from the bar and forced my way through the masses until I got to the bathroom. There wasn’t a line; thank God there wasn’t a line. I locked the door and leaned against it with all my weight. I closed my eyes and saw an image of a black hole. Something powerful and massive, something that destroys anything it touches. It was all around me. It was a snare trapping me; it was pulling me in.

  Okay, okay. Deal with this, Sophia. Deal with this.

  There was money in my wallet, which meant I could take a cab to the hotel. Which meant I could sit in the air-conditioning with my cat and my suitcase and pretend none of this had ever happened.

  Go outside and find a cab. Deal with this.

  I stumbled back from the sink and shoved open the bathroom door and… it collided with someone’s face.

  “Jesus!” David toppled back.

  “David?” I stayed in the doorway for a second. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Jesus.” He tipped his head back and pinched his nose, like he was trying to stop it from bleeding. (It wasn’t bleeding.) “Is that any way to treat someone trying to help you?”

  I slammed the door behind me, and it vibrated in its frame. “What did I need your help with? I was in the bathroom!”

  If his nose was broken, I wouldn’t have cared.

  “I was about to knock,” he said.

  “On the door to the girls’ bathroom?!”

  “I saw you running in there. I figured maybe you were crying, so I came to check on you.” He was smiling like he expected me to fawn all over him or hand him a Sensitive Boy of the Year award or something. What I wanted to do was punch him.

  “Well, here’s some good news,” I snapped. “I’m not crying.”

  A girl wearing a yellow dress and high heels was trying to get past us, so I grabbed David’s sleeve and dragged him to the side. We were standing at the edge of the crowd, right where all the drunken arm-waving began.

  “So,” he said, nodding his head slightly to the music. “What’s going on? Did you chunder? Are you sure you’re not crying?”

  “I’m fine,” I said. “I just can’t stand this place.”

  He tilted his chin up in agreement. “Pretty rank, isn’t it? I went outside for a smoke and decided to stay there—away from the feeding frenzy.” He gestured at the mob of T-Cadders.

  I pulled my skirt over my scabby knees. He was such an ass, but I couldn’t bring myself to ditch him. Everything about this night felt wrong; at least he was being his normal d-bag self. “Why are you talking to me?” I asked. “I’m still unbelievably mad at you. You realize this, right?”

  “Jeez, Sofa. When did you get so mean?”

  “Stop trying to be cute.” I jabbed his arm with my index finger. “Did you not hear what I just said?”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he said. “You’re mad at me.” His posture slumped a bit. Which reminded me of when I used to hang out with him after gym class. How I’d get Ramune candy from the vending machine and he’d dip his head down and pout at me until I shared them with him. How he’d pick me up and spin me around when I agreed to give him just one.

  “Still mad at you,” I said.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Why? Because of what happened with Mika?”

  “That! And other things. Lots of things! Things I outlined to you two nights ago!”

  “This is about you having a crush on me, isn’t it?”

  “Oh God!” Mika had been right. She’d been right all along. Telling David that I liked him was a terrible idea. I’d spent so long keeping it secret from him that I’d tricked myself into believing he would welcome the news. That he would tell me he liked me back.

  But now we were talking about it, and he didn’t seem shocked at all. He seemed sorry for me.

  “I don’t want to talk about this,” I stammered, and surged forward, bumping into two guys drinking dark brown liquid from shot glasses. One of them clapped me on the back and tried to clink his glass with my nonexistent one. I veered away. The whole claustrophobic room was sticky with booze and sweat and perfume. I kept moving, toward the entrance.

  David followed me. “Come on. This is no big deal. You had a crush on me! It’s totally normal!”

  “Argh! Stop! I’m not listening!”

  “Hey.” He brushed his hand against my shoulder. “Hey. Sophia.”

  I froze. Everyone in the bar was being loud and horrible. But David seemed somber. A dark slice of hair fell between his eyes, and he didn’t push it back.

  “What is it?” I asked sharply.

  “Wow,” he said. “You’re really gonna make me work for this, aren’t you?”

  I crossed my arms.

  “Okay,” he said, his tone suddenly businesslike. “Okay. We should stop fighting. You should stop hating me right now.”

  I snorted.

  “Hold on!” he said. “I’m not done yet. You shouldn’t be mad at me because you’re—you’re Sofa! You are the one and only Sofa. You’re the one I talk to about stuff. And you’re funny in a not-on-purpose way. And you make me comfortable. And”—he poked my shoulder—“I really, really like you.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  “And!” he said. “I’m not in loooove with Mika as everyone seems so inclined to believe. And also, I might have cheated on Caroline, but she cheated on me first, so I’m not the World’s Biggest Asshole, okay?”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “Caroline cheated on you?”

  He nodded his head. Big, exaggerated nods. He was a bobblehead toy. “When she went home last Christmas, she hooked up with her Tennessee boyfriend.” He tried to say “Tennessee boyfriend” with a southern accent, which was so ridiculous I laughed. His face brightened. David really loved making me laugh.

  “When did you find out about this?” I asked.

  “She told me the other day. Whilst she was dumping me.”

  “Well,” I said. “Just because she cheated on you, that doesn’t cancel out you cheating on her.”

  “True.” He touched my shoulder one more time. “But it doesn’t seem like a significant indicator that we were destined for each other, either, now, does it?”

  I sighed. “Whatever.”

  Some guys from the T-Cad varsity basketball team stampeded past, knocking David off balance. He stumbled and I reached out to take his arm. He grinned, showing off toothpaste-commercial-ready teeth. “Thanks.”

  I let go.

  “Hey. Sofa.” He tugged the strap of my tote bag. “You heard what I said, right? About how I really, really like you?”

  David’s voice had grown quiet, but I was standing close enough that I could hear him. Despite the raucous environment, his eyes were fixed on mine. His deep, inky eyes. “Yeah,” I said eventually. “But you made me think that you liked me-liked me.”

  He didn’t let go of my bag. “Oh, come on, Sofa. We both know I make a terrible boyfriend. And it’s not like you ever asked me out. I could have been sitting at home every night in my party dress, waiting for you to ask me out.”

  “Please. You would have laughed in my face.”

  He scoffed. “Would not have.”

  “Whatever,” I said.

  David’s face was wolfish again. He wasn’t somber David anymore. He was the one who sought attention like sunlight, who got all his kicks from being the most charming person in the room. In every room. As usual, he’d dressed up for the evening. New shirt, dark jeans, sleek shoes. This sophomore had once accused David of being gay because he put so much care into his appearance, and David had just smiled and said,
“Sexuality is a sliding scale, my friend.”

  God, I’d really liked that response. I’d really liked him for that response.

  The music changed from techno to some hardcore rap. David started bouncing a little. “Hey,” he said. “Hey, Sofa. I like this song. You wanna dance?”

  “Nope,” I said.

  “Of course you do.” He gave me a mischievous grin. “But first, I’m buying you a drink.”

  CHAPTER 28

  SATURDAY

  BACK WHEN DAVID AND MIKA used to drink and I didn’t, I’d wonder what the point of it all was. Drinking made people drowsy and mean. It made them laugh at things that weren’t funny and cry at things that weren’t sad. It made them say things most preschoolers would find nonsensical.

  But as it turned out, it also made them feel good. Great, even. I felt greater than great, like my worries and cares had been filed down. Like I had less of a neurotic edge. When people bumped into me, I didn’t notice. When I thought about Jamie, I didn’t feel like lying facedown on the ground and weeping.

  God. I was practically edge-free.

  David ordered me a melon soda with vodka. It tasted different from a melon soda without vodka. “It’s like someone dumped toxic chemicals into it,” I said.

  “Exactly!” David said. “That’s exactly what happened.”

  I drank two toxic melon sodas and ate the ice cubes out of the bottom of each glass. “Come on.” I grabbed David’s hand. “Dancing time.”

  “Dancing time?” he asked. “You want to dance?”

  “Yes! Dancing time!”

  The metal staircase was a lot spinnier than it had been an hour ago. My feet didn’t feel attached to my legs anymore, and I grabbed the railing with both hands. “Don’t remember how to do this,” I grumbled.

  David put his hands on my waist and murmured into the back of my neck. “One step at a time, little Sofa.”

  When we reached the top, I couldn’t believe how many people were up there. Probably a thousand T-Cadders, all writhing in an enormous mass, singing along to some song I didn’t know. David was singing, too. He dragged me into the belly of the beast, and the two of us started jumping up and down.