Summer Haikus – Chapter 5

The door to our room clicks open at the ungodly hour of nine the next morning. I don’t remember sleeping, but I must have been unconscious because Halley’s entrance scares the crap out of me. The room is pitch black before Halley flips on the table lamp on her desk.

“Oh! Sorry, Isa. Did I wake you?”

I groan and roll over, clutching my extra pillow to my chest. My eyes are glued shut. A year’s worth of tears shed in one night caused my eyeballs to revolt and refuse to work anymore.

Halley laughs. “Someone drank too much last night.”

“No,” I respond, anger creeping out. “Leave me alone.”

“Isa?” Halley’s voice has changed, but I lie still, hoping she’ll let me go back to sleep. The stairs to our loft beds creak and Halley squeezes my foot. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“I hate that question,” I whisper.

“Oh my god, have you been crying? Did something happen to you?” Halley’s voice rises in alarm as she lifts the covers of my bed and tries to examine me.

“Halley, stop,” I say, sitting up and pushing the covers back down. “It’s okay. I haven’t been attacked or anything. I… I kissed Masa.”

“You did?” she squeals with a huge smile, grabbing my foot again, before frowning. “Wait. I guess it didn’t go well.”

“It was an amazing kiss. One of the best I’ve ever had.” I burst into tears again and bury my face in my hands, the memory of his lips on mine rushing through me. “Until he pushed me away, accused me of not meaning to kiss him, said I was too drunk, and then wiped his mouth in disgust.” I hiccup and reach for the tissues, but the box is empty, a huge pile of used ones lying next to it.

“What?” Halley’s nose flares and her cheeks redden. “Excuse me? He did not do that,” she says, wagging her head from side to side.

I nod, my brain knocking back and forth. “He did. I wasn’t that drunk. I did mean it, but what could I say? He was upset, so I said I didn’t mean it and apologized. Then he walked off and left me outside.”

“Mother fucker,” Halley mutters, backing down the stairs to our loft. “No way is he getting away with this.”

Uh-oh. I inch forward on the bed and flip over so I can descend the stairs. Halley is peeling off her clothes and pulling a fresh shirt and jeans from her already packed suitcase on the floor.

“What are you doing?” I hug myself and try to stand without swaying. I forgot how bad a crying hangover is. It’s worse than a beer hangover by a million times.

“I’m going over to talk some sense into Masa, that’s what.”

“No. Nononononono…” I grab at her arm once her new shirt is on. “No. Don’t do that. It’s over. It’s done. I’ve ruined everything. I should have stuck to the plan.”

“Fuck your plans,” Halley says, and I whip back from her vitriol. “Plans mean you never take any risks, you never fall in love with someone who loves you back, you never really challenge yourself.”

A new wave of tears breaches my crusted eyes, so I hug myself tighter. “Plans keep me safe.” My bottom lip quivers, and Halley sighs, deflating from her burst of rage.

“You deserve more than pining away for someone who won’t love you. You deserve more than just being my comet tail. You know that?”

I nod my head even though I don’t believe it. Do I really deserve anything better than the misery I bring upon myself?

“Jesus, I’ve known you for fifteen years, and this is only the second time ever I’ve seen you cry.” She coaxes her hair into a ponytail holder, wipes the mascara from under her eyes with a baby wipe, and grabs her purse and keys. “I’ll be back later. Go back to sleep.”

The door clicks shut before I can protest.

—-

“I’m so so so so sorry about last night. SO sorry. I hope you’ll forgive me.” My text to Masa sits on the screen all alone. I sent the apology two hours ago, and with no reply, I have no idea where I stand. I turn my phone on silent before putting it away.

I wait for Halley, but she doesn’t show up at our dorm room, so I shower, grab the exams I graded, and walk to Wells Hall. I love the path through Kellogg Center, past the field house, Sparty, and the stadium. The long walk always calms me and returns me to some semblance of normalcy, no matter how stressed I’ve been. Being an undecided major put me straight into Brody Neighborhood with Halley. Halley decided last year to go into sports medicine, a smart choice given her Olympic aspirations. I finally made my decision, too, only last week, right before finals. I love my comm arts classes and English and Japanese, too, so I decided to major in communications and linguistics with a minor in Japanese. My father wants me to major in something practical like engineering, but it’s not my passion like Japanese is. Instead, I was inspired to double major in two related areas like Masa. Hopefully, it’ll mean we can both get jobs in Japan after we graduate.

My steps falter on the sidewalk, pain ripping through my chest. What will it even matter if we’re both in Japan since I’ve screwed everything up? My throat closes up and tears threaten to fall again. No, Isa. Stay strong and get through the rest of this day.

My sandals click along the tile floor of Wells Hall as I make my way to Professor Fukuda’s office. The building is empty and quiet, almost eerie, since the halls are usually filled with students. All the Japanese professors share a central office space, so I open the door quietly and sneak past the other professors to Fukuda’s space.

“Ah, Brown-san, it’s good to see you! How are you?” Professor Fukuda, or Fukuda-san as I’ve come to know him, stands and bows to me, so I bow back. He’s a fantastic man in his late fifties, originally from Japan, the Osaka area. I only realized recently that his mannerisms and slang were different from my mother’s.

“I’m well, thank you,” I say in Japanese, but he waves at me before sitting down.

“English is fine, Brown-san.”

“Isa is fine.” I laugh as he smiles at me. This is our running joke about levels of familiarity in the Japanese language. When I need a dressing down for being too lax about my grammar, he calls me Brown-san, my last name. When we’re in good standing with each other, I get Isano-san, but never Isa. Isa, he argues, is only for good friends, never teacher and student.

I sit down in the chair next to his desk and lean forward so he can see me past the stacks of papers. I open my backpack and draw out the exams. “Here you go. All done.”

“Ah, thank you. You left the essay questions for me, yes?”

I nod. “Yes. I know you wanted to grade them. I went easy on a few students. I hope you don’t mind.”

“It’ll depend on which ones,” he says, smiling. I’m glad he trusted me to be a TA as a sophomore since I’m taking the four-hundred-level Japanese language and linguistic classes now. Getting this job really helped my loan situation. Masa is a junior and was in the same classes with me this year. He grew up speaking Japanese at home like I did.

Masa. My thoughts always return to him, even when I don’t want them to. Next year he’s living off campus with Shrikant. Will I even see him?

“Are you all right, Isano-san?” Professor Fukuda reclines back in his desk chair, bringing his pen to his lips.

I hate that question.

“I’m fine.” I think quickly of something that will explain my somber mood, something besides Masa, which is too personal. “I’ve been thinking about what next year is going to be like, now that I’ve declared my majors. I have a lot of credits to catch up on.”

“Your grasp of language and linguistics is quite remarkable for someone so young,” he says, shaking his head. “I’m sure you’ll catch up.”

I fold my hands together and squeeze until my knuckles are white. “My father wants me to go into engineering, and I could, but I love English, Japanese, and linguistics. I’m glad I chose this path, but I’m not sure how practical I’m being. Getting a job when I graduate is a top priority.”

“You could go on to graduate school…”

I shake my head and shrug my shoulders. “Don’t get me wrong. I like school, but I want a job. I’m already in a load of debt.” Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night sweating about the amount of money school is costing me, and MSU isn’t even as expensive as most other colleges. My dad pays for a quarter of my tuition, and I get money from Halley’s parents to cover food and books, but the rest is on me. My mom doesn’t contribute funds at all, which was not unexpected. She rarely gives me money. My student loan balances arrive via email, and I file them away in a folder and don’t look at them. I can’t even begin to plan for them yet.

“Ah sooooo…” he says, breathing out a Japanese saying people inject in conversations when they’re thinking. “There are lots of options open to you with your double major. Pass JLPT Level One, learn copywriting and marketing, and you could teach in Japan or work for a Japanese company in Japan or here. Engineering is a good profession, but there are opportunities for you with your chosen major, too.

I chew on the inside of my lip and cross my legs. “You think?”

“I do,” he says, sitting forward and reaching for his wallet. “Think about it over the summer because next summer you can intern someplace and try out working life. Here’s my card with my phone number on it.” He hands it to me using both hands and bowing. I take it with both hands and bow back. This is one of the first things you learn in Japanese business, respect paid when exchanging business cards. “If you want to talk it over, you can call me or email me. Whichever works for you. I’ll be glad to help you in any way I can.”

I take the card and rub it between my fingers. I wonder if I can convince my dad this will be good for me.

Back outside, my phone vibrates when I pass the stadium on my trip home.

It’s Halley.

“I’m back. Let’s order pizza and keep packing. We go home tomorrow!”

“On my way. What did Masa say?” I type.

“He wouldn’t talk to me. Sorry. Kept telling me it was none of my business and then politely wishing me luck this summer. If I didn’t hate him right now, I would totally squeeze him and thank him. The fucker.”

I sigh, disappointed she got nowhere with Masa, but it’s not her fault. “Ok.”

I take out my headphones, plug them in, and blast J-pop. What if I’ve just pledged to spend the next few years in the same programs with Masa and he hates me for ruining our friendship? I turn up the volume, letting my eardrums take an assault instead of my heart, the music drowning out everything around me. I don’t want to think about any of this anymore.