“Okay. I’m seeing this guy from school called Kentaro.”
“Have I met him?”
“I don’t think so. I usually get to teach him if he comes in.”
“How do you manage that?”
“I told the girls who do the rosters that he prefers a female teacher and that he finds my accent easiest to understand. Plus, he requests me.”
“Don’t they suspect?”
“I don’t think so. A lot of the students have their favourite teachers. And of course, some of them ask not to have certain teachers.”
“Like Grover?” I whisper so he doesn’t hear.
“Yeah. His lessons are weird.”
“How so?”
“He somehow manages to incorporate references from The Simpsons into every conversation.”
“I haven’t noticed that.”
“Just you wait.”
“You know, I think you underestimate Grover.”
“Perhaps. But I think he secretly likes being the crazy American.”
We stop near a big industrial area to have a break and work out how to get around all the factories and major highways. Zac opens up his daypack and hands out a bunch of granola bars.
“Where did you get these?” I ask hungrily biting into one. “I haven’t seen anything like them since I’ve been here.”
“They’re from Costco. I’ll have to take you there sometime so you can stock up on all the food you miss. They have a whole Australian beer and wine section.”
“You know what I miss?” Sarah pipes up. “A roast dinner with Yorkshire pudding.”
“Oh, don’t remind me,” Alana groans. “I would kill for a Yorkshire pudding right now.”
“Can’t you cook them yourself?” I ask.
“Nah—too lazy. And it’s not the same. Why bother cooking for hours when you can just go to the ramen shop next door and buy a bowl of noodles for a couple of quid?”
“I guess,” I say doubtfully. Although, if I was really hanging out for something, I think I would go to the effort of actually making it.
“We’re not too far,” Grover says while looking at our map. “We should be there just after lunch.”
We set off again after our rest, my legs already stiff from the unfamiliar exercise. I ride by myself for a bit in contemplation. Things have definitely calmed down in the past week. For a while there, it seemed as though it was just one thing after another. I’ve finally settled into a bit of a routine at school. The lessons are easy and the students are generally fun to talk to. I’ve become an expert at gestures and using simple words to convey my message. And at times, I do feel like I’m making a difference.
I’m still quite annoyed about Violet backstabbing me, though. I’m going to get Sarah to tell me where she is one day so I can confront her. I’ll have to find a time when she’s out at lunch, or after she’s finished for the day. I’m not sure I could face going back to the Bella building. I’d probably be forcibly removed anyway.
How did she think she was going to keep this a secret? Did she not realise I would stay in touch with people who would tell me? But then if I hadn’t hacked into David’s account, I might never have thought to ask Sarah what happened after I left. I probably would have assumed that they hired another firm. It’s surprising that they just replaced me. It kind of feels like there was some sort of conspiracy going on. I really hope Don didn’t have anything to do with it. He hasn’t been in touch yet—so I guess he’s still in South Africa. Anyway, I’m happy to take a break from worrying about all that stuff for a few days. It’s nice to do something different.
I wonder if anything happened as a result of the interfering we did on David’s e-mail. I can’t ask Sarah, because she’ll suspect something. I pedal up to Alana.
“Hey,” I say softly. “Did Sarah mention what happened with Violet’s flight?”
“No—I forgot to ask! Do you think we should? I’m curious to see what happened.”
“Leave it with me. I’ll see what I can find out.” I sidle back up to Sarah.
“So, you were saying earlier that Violet and David seemed to be getting along well?”
“Yeah, it’s strange, because there was a bit of animosity between them when she first arrived. But by the end of the first day they were practically best friends. I think there was some sort of mix-up at the airport and Violet missed her flight. But she was able to get one with another airline less than an hour later—and she got an upgrade to first class! Can you believe it? But David was fed up, because he had to spend ages waiting at the airport. Apparently she didn’t think to call him and let him know about the change.”
“Huh.” I’m not sure how to feel about that. Our messing around meant that V got a first class trip. But at least David suffered a little. I just hope the novelty of working in Japan soon wears off and Violet ends up begging to be sent home. I might have to plan some more revenge. Or maybe I’ll just let it go. I haven’t decided yet.
“So?” Alana hisses as I fall back to ride beside her again.
I quickly explain what Sarah told me.
“Damn. We’ll have to try something a bit more extreme next time.”
“Yeah—but maybe we’ll hold off for a while.”
“Are you going soft on me, Harper?”
“No—well, it’s just that I don’t really want to have any more drama in my life right now. Things are just settling down and I’m kind of happy where I am. To keep dwelling on V will just make me mad.”
“I getcha. Well, let me know if you change your mind.”
“I will. I say we get Grover to help next time too.”
She laughs. “Yeah—I’ll bet he’s a force to be reckoned with when he sets his mind to something.”
***
The buildings become denser as we enter the outskirts of Kyoto. It doesn’t really seem that different to Osaka so far. But as we get closer to the town centre, I notice some distinctly old Japanese architecture. There are narrow alleys and little timber houses running alongside a pebbled river, and the shops have red lanterns hanging out the front with elaborate Japanese lettering painted on them in black. I even spy a woman who looks like a geisha. She’s so pretty—all done up with her white face and porcelain doll make-up. She’s wearing a beautiful kimono and has flowers pinned in her hair. I suddenly feel like I’m back in one of those late night SBS movies. But then the effect is ruined when my co-riders start arguing about the best way to get to our accommodation. I even overhear Sarah going on about finding a nightclub later.
It all seems so odd—nightclubbing in Kyoto? Admittedly, the main street doesn’t look that different from the streets of Osaka. There’s a big Starbucks nearby and dozens of other Western looking shops all around us. But still. It’s Kyoto. Shouldn’t we be looking for a temple or something?
Grover asks a passer-by how to get to our hotel and we’re directed south a couple of kilometres.
It turns out we’re staying in a capsule hotel. I always thought they sounded kind of nifty, but in reality it’s pretty boring. I’d compare it to staying in a train carriage. There are eight pods set up like four sets of bunks, and each one has its own futon, a sliding paper door and flat screen TV. Come to think of it, it’s not that much bigger than my hotel room when I first arrived.
Alana and Sarah bunk together. Grover and the others all find their beds, leaving Zac and I in the final set.
“Top or bottom?” I ask him.
“I like my women on top,” he winks.
“Zac!”
“Sorry—I couldn’t help myself.”
Alana gives me a knowing look. I ignore her.
We leave our bags in lockers and all take turns to have showers, since we’re all sweaty and grimy from the ride.
While we wait our turn, Sarah makes us tea in the common room. Alana flicks open a brochure for the hotel and laughs.
“Look—it has a picture of the bathroom with the caption Barrie-free toilet. I wonder what that means.”
<
br /> “I love the whole lost-in-translation thing,” Sarah says.
“Hey Jess, I think Zac is done,” Alana motions to the bathroom. “I just saw him go put some stuff in his locker.”
“Oh, thanks. Do you want to go first?”
“No, no. Be my guest.”
“Cool.” I grab my complimentary towel and slide open the door to the bathroom.
“Hey, I’m still in here,” Zac calls out.
He turns around and grins. “Jess, do you want to wait your turn? Or were you just dying to get a glimpse of this?” He motions down the length of his torso.
My face flames. Zac is standing in front of me, completely naked. While he doesn’t seem to mind, I am beyond mortified.
“Sorry, sorry!” I slam the door closed. I can hear Zac chuckling on the other side. “It’s okay, Jess. I know it was an accident. I’ll be out in a minute.”
Oh my God. Alana!
I stomp thunderously back to the common room. “Ahem!”
Alana falls about in fits on the floor. “You should see your face! You are so red!”
Sarah seems to think it’s funny too. I don’t.
“Guys! He’s my roommate! I can’t just go around walking in on him while he’s in the shower! It shows a complete lack of respect!”
“I’m sure he didn’t mind. I bet he’s hot. Is he, you know, big?”
“I didn’t look!” I shout.
“Sure, sure.”
“I didn’t!” I assert. “Anyway thanks to you, I can never look him in the eye again!”
They seem to think this is even more amusing and laugh harder.
Zac appears. “I suppose one of you girls is behind this. Look, we’re not all comfortable with nudity. You should respect that. Look at poor Jess.”
The girls don’t seem a bit remorseful. They just keep grinning.
“I’m not a prude,” I say indignantly. “It’s just you should have your privacy. And it seems a bit personal, seeing as we live together and everything.”
“I know. Let’s forget it, hey? Go on—go have your shower.”
“I’m just letting you know I’m locking the door,” I warn them. “So don’t try any funny business.”
“We wouldn’t dream of it,” Alana promises.
I grumpily head back to the bathroom and securely lock the door. Once safely enclosed, I strip off and turn on the taps. As I shampoo my hair, my mind wanders. Despite a huge effort on my part, an image of Zac’s naked form forces its way into my head. But then, I reason, it’s only natural to be curious about someone you live with. Especially someone of the opposite sex. And it’s been a while. I mean, I arrived in Japan a month ago and my sex life wasn’t exactly on fire before I left. Unless you count the occasional night with Paul. And I have to be honest—Zac is hot. His chest is smooth and tanned with just a smattering of hair, and he has those yummy chiselled lines at the top of his thighs. And that butt…
Stop it, I mentally scold myself. This is completely inappropriate. You like Luke, remember? And Zac is off limits. He’s not your type anyway. He’s too blonde—when have you ever dated a blonde? And there’s obviously something wrong with him if he thinks Miki is ideal girlfriend material.
Suitably chastened, I finish my hair, quickly soap the rest of my body and hop out.
Alana is next in line. She smirks at me as she closes the door behind her.
“Nice shower?” she asks innocently. ‘Were you dreaming of Zac the whole time?”
“That’s enough,” I say, my face starting to turn pink again.
“You’re just so easy to wind up, chicken. Sorry. I promise I won’t hassle you anymore.”
“Thank you. I would appreciate that.”
***
We have okonomiyaki for lunch—this amazing pancake dish made with cabbage and squid and all kinds of strange toppings. It kind of reminds me of those octopus balls, which I found out are called takoyaki. Then we go for a walk in Marayuma Park—it’s very pretty, with big weeping willows scattered about amongst manicured hedges. Grover tells me it’s even better in April when all the cherry blossoms are in bloom. I lament the fact that I probably won’t be around long enough to see it. It’s highly unlikely I’ll make it to Christmas, but I do seem to change my mind every five seconds.
Dinner is at a restaurant that only serves finger food. We load up on satays, dumplings and edamame—the same beans that David ordered on my first day in Japan. I feel a bit silly, remembering my reaction to him spitting the shell out. I feel like I’ve come so far in such a short time.
Copious amounts of beer and Chu-Hi are consumed, all served in pint sized glasses. I’m amazed when the bill arrives and it only works out to be the equivalent of twenty dollars per person. It turns out that living in Japan isn’t as expensive as I thought it would be. Dining out is really cheap, and most items are really affordable. It just seems to be things like accommodation, fresh fruit and rice that skew the perspective.
I feel like I’ve inherited an instant family. I enjoy this gang’s company much more than my one at home. Even if they do seem to tease me a lot—or have annoying girlfriends. I don’t know if it’s a result of spending so much time together, but I feel like I’ve known everyone for years.
Alana and Sarah are keen to explore Kyoto’s nightlife. Apparently they’ve visited during the day before, but this is the first time they’ve stayed over. Sarah must have a sixth sense, because she sniffs out a club in record time. It’s tucked away in a small lane behind the main road and down in a basement. It’s almost completely black inside, except for a couple of glowing UV lights on the ceiling.
A man with dreadlocks and a baggy hat takes our money and gives us drink passes and wrist bands. The club is only half-full, but there’s a relaxed vibe. It’s obviously a reggae venue, which explains the bouncer’s appearance.
I can’t help but think how odd it is that I’m in geisha territory, but sitting in a basement club listening to Bob Marley and drinking Caribbean rum. This is so not how I imagined my trip would turn out. It just goes to show how naïve I’ve been stereotyping other countries. It’s like, just because you go to a couple of sushi trains and watch Lost in Translation, it doesn’t mean you automatically know a country. Of course it has as many layers as anywhere else. I mean, if I told someone from the States that I didn’t see kangaroos every day in Australia, but often ate brunch in Chinatown and dinner at a Tibetan cafe, they might be surprised too.
As I finish my latest drink, I contemplate my liver. I seem to be drinking every night these days—almost to the point of writing myself off. But then Sarah and Alana are worse, probably drinking double what I order. I guess it’s all part of the ex-pat lifestyle. And the smoking! I don’t know if it’s because cigarettes are so cheap, or if it’s because the laws are more relaxed here, but everyone smokes like chimneys.
I’m mentally calculating my chances of getting lung cancer from all the second-hand smoke when Sarah drags me onto the dance floor. I hadn’t realised, but everyone else is already out there dancing in a circle.
“Hey,” Zac saunters up to me. “You okay?”
“I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”
“So, you’re all right after earlier?” He looks at me seriously for a moment.
“Yes, of course. Sorry about that. I was just caught off guard.”
“Don’t worry. It’s nothing. I swear I’m not bothered by it.”
“But what about Miki? She would be upset if she knew.”
“It was an accident. There’s no point in worrying about how Miki may or may not have reacted. Anyway, let’s just put it behind us. What do you think of Kyoto?”
“It’s beautiful. I love that park. I can just imagine how amazing it would be in spring.”
“Well, you might have to hang around and come to a Hanami party with us in April.”
“I assume a Hanami party has something to do with the cherry blossoms?”
“Yep. You should see them. They’re so much b
etter than the picnics back home.”
“Maybe. I haven’t yet made up my mind whether I’m staying or not.”
“It would be a shame if you left before Christmas. We would all miss you.”
“That’s sweet. But I’m sure you’d find a replacement for me soon enough.”
“Don’t be silly. We all love having you here.”
“Whatever. Hey, I’m going to get another drink. Do you want one?”
He smiles, amused. “You don’t take compliments very well, do you? Anyway, yes please. I’ll have another beer.”
I go up and order a beer and Chu-Hi in Japanese. I think it’s the only thing I can say confidently. Which is saying something in itself.
I take Zac his beer and then park myself on a bench seat in the corner. I’m happy to just watch everyone else and recall the day’s events.
Except for the image of Zac naked. That’s something I can’t ever allow myself to think of again.
TWENTY-THREE
I’m woken by the sound of my rice paper door being slid open.
“Jess, are you awake?” a whispered voice asks me.
I rub my eyes and peer down the end of the bed to see who’s trying to climb into my capsule.
“Zac!” I whisper back sleepily. “What are you doing? What time is it?”
“I don’t know. I couldn’t sleep.” He squishes in to the almost non-existent gap beside me and slides the door shut again.
“Er…I’m not sure this is a good idea.”
“Shh…” He places a finger over my lips to shut me up.
“What would Miki say?” I persist.
“Who cares about Miki? She’s not here. And it’s just killing me to be so close to you and not be able to touch you.”
My stomach flutters. Oh God.
He props himself up on his side and looks at me.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispers.
“Uh…” I seem to have lost all control over my faculties.
I notice he’s only wearing a pair of silk boxer shorts, and nothing else. I can’t resist. I reach out and stroke his chest. It feels like an electric shock shooting through my fingers and whooshing around my body.
He smiles. “I’ve been dreaming about this for ages.”
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