“All right, that’s it. It’s too hot !” Adachi complained, unbuttoning her dress shirt’s top button.
I dropped my paddle onto the ping-pong table and walked away. “Yeah, I’m done.”
My shirt was damp with sweat, and it clung to my skin. I flapped my sleeve cuff, trying desperately to generate airflow. Then I realized I still held the ping-pong ball. I thought about tossing it from here onto the table, but it was too late. I had a feeling the ball would just bounce off, so I decided against it.
The janitors never came up here, and a layer of dust covered the floor like a wax coating. Obviously, neither of us wanted to sit directly onto the dust, so we used the green net as a tarp and sat on that instead.
“I wish there was a breeze,” Adachi muttered, her face flushed from the heat.
Same , I thought, and glared up at the window. I knew that, if we opened it, someone was bound to notice. Then they’d come up here to close it, and we’d be busted.
“Should we go outside? It’s almost lunch anyway.”
Adachi had rolled up her sleeves and untucked her shirt. I personally wouldn’t have been caught dead wearing my uniform that sloppily. It was kind of off-putting to look at, even if we were technically in private. Next thing you know, she’ll be flapping her skirt—yep, there she goes.
“Have you no shame? You’re ruining the school’s, uhh…what’s it called…”
“Dignity?”
“Yeah, that! Our dignity will never recover!”
“So, what should we do for lunch?” she asked, shooting a glance at me.
Fine, ignore me, I guess.
Logically, it was easier for me to go out and get food for us both, since all it would take for me to look presentable would be to put on my jacket. Adachi, on the other hand, would have to tuck her shirt in, button it, roll her sleeves down, and put her jacket on. And, if she could see the state her hair was in, she’d probably want to brush it.
“Let me guess—you want me to fetch you something. Fine, fine.”
“I’ll go next time.”
“Yeah, right. That’s what you said last time.” And the time before that, and the time before that, and the time before that, and the time before that.
But Adachi simply laughed. “Just a Danish and some water, pretty please.”
“All right. If they’re sold out, I’ll grab you whatever.”
Adachi only ever drank mineral water. Maybe that’s why she has such clear skin. I’m so jealous… If she got a cut, I bet she’d bleed water, too.
“Are you going to class after lunch?”
“Probably. What about you? Going home?” I asked, uncrossing my arms and resting my hands on the floor.
“Hmm…well, I’m definitely not going to class,” she replied nonchalantly.
I’d never actually asked her why she skipped class so often, nor had she ever asked me. We were just two people hanging out, trying to alleviate our boredom with some ping-pong.
I held the ping-pong ball in my palm and gave it a hard flick with my other hand. It bounced across the loft with an airy tap, tap, tap until it hit the opposite wall and fell still. The sound was reminiscent of light knocking, as though I stood at the door to Adachi’s heart.
“Ping-pong is pretty fun, huh?” she mused, taking off her indoor shoes. I thought back to the look on her face as we played, her brow furrowed as she focused her full attention on the game. It took a lot of concentration, after all.
“Yeah, for sure. I think I prefer that sort of one-on-one competition, like, compared to team sports.”
In my last year of junior high, I’d realized that, as fun as basketball was, I just wasn’t cut out for it. Part of me always itched to test my skill, and my teammates often complained that I hogged the ball too much. In the end, I knew I wasn’t fit to be part of a team.
“You know, it’s weird. If we were doing this for gym class, I totally wouldn’t want to play.”
“Yeah, I can relate. I’d be out of there so fast,” Adachi agreed, stretching her arms above her head.
Her elbow made a popping sound, and she let out a groan. Weird. I guess she has naturally flexible elbows.
“We have a lot of random stuff in common, huh, Shimamura?”
As she said my name, I narrowed my eyes, though I doubt Adachi noticed. Truth be told, I hated my surname. It reminded me of Shimamura Co., the clothing store. Whenever someone said it, it felt like they were calling me Shimamura Co. by extension. If only my name were Shimazaki or something instead.
As we sat in silence with our legs sprawled, the lunch bell rang, echoing through the otherwise-empty gym. My stomach rumbled in agreement.
“Well, that was the bell,” Adachi said.
“Sure was.”
“See you soon.” She waved goodbye.
I reluctantly heaved myself to my feet, donned my jacket, and slipped back into my indoor shoes. Once I was sure I had my wallet, I headed for the stairs. After a few steps, I glanced back to see Adachi reaching for her bookbag—probably to get her cell phone—but it was ever so slightly out of reach, so she gave up. Ugh, relatable.
“Don’t be such a lazybones, you sloth,” I told her, despite my internal monologue. I heard her stamp her feet in protest, but by that time, I was already halfway down the stairs.
As for who was listed in her phone’s address book, well, that was one of the many things I didn’t know. I’d never seen Adachi speak to anyone else at our school…probably because she so seldom showed up in the first place. We’ve been hanging out a lot lately—maybe she only comes here to see me. No, that’s stupid.
I was certain that, if I ever said that out loud, she would never come back to the gym loft.