I rose to my feet, walked around the table, and bent down over her. Her alleged composure vanished in an instant as she tilted her whole body hard to the left. I closed in, and…well, now what? Her guard was completely down, and all I could think to do was the most rote sexual harassment.
The light made her dark hair glow blue and added a hint of green to her eyes; her facial features still carried faint traces of childhood. When I took a moment to take her in, she was beauty incarnate. Flawless. Shameless.
Her cheeks looked so soft—and indeed they were. Her shoulders flinched as I gently cupped her face. Now her eyes shone with uncertainty mixed with something else. So I squished her cheeks flat.
“Eee hee hee…” Cackling ominously, I returned to my spot. Truth be told, I just couldn’t think of anything else to do to her.
Okay, that was a lie—I did think of something, but didn’t have the courage to act on it, so I ran away. Part of me hesitated, worried that it wasn’t right. Especially since Adachi was the kind of girl who’d let me get away with anything. We’re both such awkward nerds, I thought to myself as I put my chin in my hand and smiled at the wall to hide my embarrassment.
“Shimamura…?”
“Hee hee hee…”
Now and then I could hear Yashiro and my sister shrieking about something downstairs. Yashiro in particular had a very audible voice.
“Once we’re back at school, the Culture Festival’s right around the corner, huh?” I figured I may as well change the subject to something high school-y for a change.
Having finished lining up her supplies, Adachi sat twiddling her thumbs. Then she processed the unfamiliar phrase and cocked her head in confusion. “Our school has a culture festival?”
“Believe it or not, yes, we always have.” Weird—I couldn’t remember taking part in it last year, or the year before that. “Since we’re not in any clubs, we won’t have much to do, but yeah…”
“Huh.” She’d never shown any interest in school events, so her initial reaction was muted. Then she realized what I was getting at, and her voice leapt up an octave. “We could…explore it together!”
“Sure, sounds good.”
She didn’t need to rush. I didn’t have anyone else to go with—not a single soul. Adorable, sweet Adachi was my everything.
“Anyway…shall we hit the books, or whatever…?”
“You don’t sound excited.”
“Nobody’s ever excited to study!”
At the very least, my brain wasn’t wired that way innately. Nevertheless, I’d kept at it every single day thus far, so if you asked me, I was actually pretty gung-ho about my future at the moment. I knew that if I started slipping, my path would split off from Adachi’s; thus my brain was willing to work hard for the time being.
I’m doing something good, I told myself as I opened my textbook and notebook. Naturally, it wasn’t until summer break had already started that I began to wonder if I should enroll at a cram school instead of self-study. Was that the smarter move? If there was one in the neighborhood, I could see myself attending—or was it too late now? Maybe I should search online for summer courses.
Much of my life had started later than it was supposed to. Too late, in a lot of cases. So right now it was generally a good idea not to procrastinate on anything important. That mindset was bound to diminish at least one regret down the road.
Today I would review everything I’d written down yesterday. Believe it or not, going back to old material actually really helped it stick…or so it seemed to me, at least. As I peered down at the notebook, I caught myself leaning forward, then course-corrected back into good posture.
Just then, as I looked up, I made immediate eye contact with Adachi, who for some reason, instantly whipped her face away. On top of that, she started smacking her stomach like a sumo wrestler psyching herself up right before a match. I started to ask her what was wrong, but then I realized it might have something to do with her line of sight.
She wasn’t remotely looking at her textbook or notebook, so where was she looking? I recreated its trajectory in my mind’s eye. First, I pointed a finger out in front of her. When she flinched and recoiled, I gradually reeled it back in, tracing out the direction.
“Gah, er, n-no, I wasn’t…!” she began to splutter, but I ignored it and proceeded with my inspection. The finger arrived at my chest.
Just now, Adachi’s gaze was somewhere at chest level—my chest. I looked down at it through the ratty old shirt whose English slogan had long since faded in the wash. Given how stretched-out the collar had gotten, perhaps I had inadvertently given her an eyeful when I bent over.
Hmm. I see.
I looked up to find her sitting there with her face looking like it was covered in strawberry jam—so bright, it threatened to stain her teeth pink as they peeked out from behind her dewy lips. But I liked strawberry jam, and I liked Adachi, so I debated whether I might simply shrug it off like it was a two-for-one deal. Still, I couldn’t pretend I wasn’t a little bashful myself; the heat in my ears was proof enough.
“Adachi, uh…” I hesitated, unsure whether to take that step. My foot dangled in midair, awaiting its orders.
“Yup…that’s me…”