This Was Unexpected, Why Am I Blushing?

"Dad, were you weird when you were younger?"

"What kind of question is that?" he answered from behind a thick leather-bound book.

"I'm just curious."

No answer.

"Do people change after high school?" I asked.

"How should I know?" he barked.

Why do I bother?

"What are you two talking about?" my mom said, coming down the stairs with a bundle of towels tucked under each arm.

"The kid's asking questions again," my dad said.

"Mom, were you weird when you were younger?"

"Hmm. I couldn't say, why?"

"There's this person in my class, Arakawa, she's weird. I was wondering if that's normal, like, if it's a phase or something."

"Hmm, Arakawa? Do I know an Arakawa?" my mom zoned out.

"Mom."

"Oh right, hmm… Well, what I think is that many people go through phases, especially in high school. Like how you went through that movie phase in junior high, and like how you're interested in this girl, that's a phase too," she said.

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

"Finish eating and get going already. You'll be late," my dad said.

Sure can do. I had reason to believe Haruko had gotten over her sickness already. Mainly in the form of a wicked stomach ache foreshadowing our inevitably ache-inducing encounter.

Still, I was just as convinced I would finally get to learn more about her, instead of that whole spying business. Normally I would spot her in class, otherwise her arrival would soon follow my own. So, what I hadn't been expecting was to run into her first thing in the morning, but there she was. As soon as she wants to be found: ta-dah, right there! Otherwise, she seems to disappear on a whim.

"You! What did you do yesterday?" she asked.

Her face almost looked scary. I'm sure the early morning shoe locker crowd was getting accustomed to our weekly performances by now. I know I was, the eyes of onlookers only inspired an intermediate level of social anxiety. So long as Haruko wasn't holding my arm, I was all good.

"Well, I came to school, attended classes, and then went home. Unlike you." I put my outdoor shoes in my locker and locked it shut.

"Argh! Stop changing the subject! Mr. Ando said I could run for student council president."

Oh, that. "Congratulations." Wait a minute, have you been talking to him in the mornings too…?

"What do you mean congratulations?! This is awful! I didn't even get to see the moment his last ounce of willpower shattered into a million pieces!!"

That's what you're upset about?

"What did you do?" Her display of hostility grew closer.

Keeping it between us, I actually was guilty this time. Without anything interesting to do over lunch, I had gone to pay a visit to Mr. Ando. Now don't get me wrong, I wasn't going in Haruko's place or anything, I just wanted to ask some questions and get a feel for him. He appeared to be your run-of-the-mill youthful teacher, popular and enjoying it. At the same time, he was aware of his responsibilities. The problem arose when I asked him about Haruko.

I expected him to give me some insight into the quality of their conversations since she had passed the eye test from afar. Well, I guess I had gotten the wrong idea because he spent the next twenty minutes lecturing me about how annoying she was. By that point, he'd already assumed I was coming in as her messenger. I could imagine how hellish it might've felt not to be safe from her disruptions even while she was sick, so I couldn't really blame him for caving.

"Now that you're in the running, shouldn't you get started with your campaign? I've already seen some posters around the school."

"Oh! That reminds me, I'm gonna need your help for that. What's your phone number?" she asked.

Hold on, wasn't I supposed to ask you for your number? How are you fudging my plans before you even know what they are? What kind of twisted karmic justice is this?

"And what makes you think I'm so willing to help?" I asked.

"Shut up, give me your number."

Ouch. "Fine, but only if you let me put it in your phone." Naming myself God in her contacts is sure to piss her off.

Haruko leaned over and rustled around her bag for a moment before pulling out a scrap piece of paper and a pencil, and handing it to me.

"Uhm… What's this?"

"That's a piece of paper," she said.

"Ah, yeah. I figured that much. What about your phone?"

"I don't have a phone."

What? Wait, then what do you even need my number for?

"Just write it down," she said.

"Who doesn't have a phone these days?"

"Me."

Why are you so utterly unfazed by that fact?

"I just never felt a need for one," she said. "Would you put your number down already? We're gonna be late for class."

There were still fifteen minutes until classes started… Surely enough though, I wrote my number out and handed it back on the piece of paper. I guess that meant I'd consented to being her campaign manager, or something. Oh, right! I wanted to start asking more questions.

But before I could get any words out of my mouth, I felt the tug of a spider's web. A thumping within my chest quickly spread a dose of adrenaline throughout my veins. Hello, body? Why are you scared at a time like this? All I want is to learn a little bit about this… thing? I guess she's a girl. I think. Anyways, what's the problem?

I tried to calm myself with a deep breath, without realizing Haruko had already walked on ahead of me. The freeze-frame of her peering back cleared my mind enough to trot up and blurt out a question before the fear could catch up.

"What kinds of classes do you like?"

She didn't even look in my direction. "What? Shut up."

Maybe the fear wasn't as unfounded as I'd thought.

"It's just a question," I said.

"Yeah, and next thing I know you'll be asking me what my favourite drama on TV is."

"So I take it you don't watch much TV?"

"Nope, TV dramas are a poison made for mass consumption. Kind of like school or alcohol," she said.

I wouldn't have normally imagined those three things belonging to the same category, but okay.

"You think about that kind of stuff a lot?" I asked.

"Less than I think about rainy days or pasta strainers," she said.

"Do those thoughts often fit together, or…?"

"Did the annoying-question-asking-bug bite you today, or…?"

"Well, we don't get the chance to talk too often, so I thought I'd make the most of it and try to get to know you better." A tinge of lingering dread pinched me after that one.

She gave me a glare and then went on marching down the hall. Where were we going anyway? I had kind of zoned out, and we'd already gone up two flights of stairs. Only the third-year classes were up here. Haruko jerked to a stop in front of one of those classrooms and pointed at the open door.

"Go in there and ask for Noiji Sato," she said.

Wait, we're on the third floor. So, does that mean Sato's a third-year? I guess I should've known it was far too unlikely for Haruko's friend to be the same age as her.

"Why don't you go in yourself?" I asked.

"I'm banned."

"You're what now?"

Haruko rolled her eyes and motioned to the door with more oomph this time.

Against my better judgment, I complied. Asking for someone in front of a bunch of third-years was a little embarrassing, but Sato seemed the tiniest bit excited, which was different from the reaction I'd grown accustomed to. So I'd say it was well worth it.

"You always manage a way to sneak in, don't you?" Sato asked.

Haruko put on a stupid grin, "Listen up! We're meeting at the club after class, I have some big ideas to secure my leadership over this school!"

Sato seemed to put two and two together and congratulated Haruko a whole bunch. For some reason, Haruko was much more accepting of this praise than my own, but whatever. They chatted for a bit longer, leaving me on the sidelines like a kid with their parent at the impromptu grocery store reunion. When Sato finally went back into her classroom, Haruko and I headed downstairs. On the way down she slipped in one more surprise, as should be expected by now.

She turned, stepping down the stairs backwards, looking me right in the eyes, "Oh yeah! After the group meeting I need your help! And I promised I would pay this time! You don't even have to worry about bringing your wallet," she chimed.

"Pay? For what?"

A frown met me in response. "You're worthless, you know that? For our date."