OKAY, LOOK—even I know it’s major cringe to notice when a girl smells different. But the fact is, it’s not the sort of thing you can un-notice.
This morning, when Miki-san asked me “How’s it going, kiddo?” I replied with the world’s most boring answer: “I…I’m literally the same age as you.” I instantly regretted not coming up with something better, but at the same time, I felt like I might just survive school today. Then, as she walked past, I noticed it. Her shampoo smelled different.
Did she switch brands? Weird, because I seemed to remember her saying she loved her shampoo so much that she carried a bottle of it around with her at all times. But yeah, obviously I couldn’t ask her about it. She’d categorize me as a creep. And I enjoyed my current position as “average nobody,” thank you very much.
Okay, not really.
As I sat at my desk in the back corner by the windows, I could see Miki-san at the front of the room, energetically hugging another girl. A question mark appeared over the other girl’s head.
“Mickey, did you start using a different shampoo? How come?”
Even if sharing a hug was out of the question, surely even I could have found a way to casually ask her, like that other girl…? No, no, no. For me, it would only backfire. Honestly, I should just be grateful someone else asked her in my place.
As I watched her surreptitiously, she let out a nasally “Ha ha!” and answered, “It’s a secret!”
An exclamation point hovered over her head—the question had made her happy.
Times like these, I always got to thinking. Her shampoo was different, and there was a secret reason behind it…but she wanted someone to ask about it.
Does she have a new boyfriend or something?
As my mood took a sharp nosedive, I heard the 8:30 bell start to ring.
“Who here knows the difference between ‘thee’ and ‘thou’?”
We were in the middle of classical studies, and the teacher’s question had put a question mark over just about everyone’s heads, including my own. Not that I could see it, of course. Only a handful of people had exclamation points or ellipses, and of those, only one was willing to draw attention to herself: Miki-san.
“Pick me!”
Her hand shot up like an arrow. Classical studies was her favorite class of the day; she practically vibrated the whole time. During math class, however, an ellipsis hung over her head as she grumbled to herself. Truth be told, I could watch her all day and never get bored…but if someone caught me staring at her, my life would be over, so I had to be careful.
Unfortunately, it was proving difficult to appreciate her beauty with the “boyfriend” theory hanging over my head, making me miserable. I bet HE gets to see all the sides of her she never lets show.
After class, as I lay slumped over my desk, I heard someone sit down at the empty desk next to me.
“They said English class is gonna be in the language lab, just FYI.”
“Oh. Gotcha.”
“You okay? You looked like you were zoning out all through class, man.”
“Oh. Gotcha.”
“Are you even listening? I asked you a question!”
I looked up to find Zuka grinning at me cheerfully. His tanned face was so radiant, I half-wondered if he’d absorbed the sun’s rays permanently.
“You feeling sick or something?”
“No, I’m just tired.”
“Oh, okay. Yeah, me too.”
He accepted my lame excuse without batting an eye. A single period floated overhead as he let out a big yawn. We’d been friends ever since our first year of high school; his face was always expressive, and his eyebrows carefully manicured.
“Come on. Let’s get over there before they start cussing us out in English. Plus, I forgot my homework.”
Snickering to himself, he clapped me on the shoulder. Then he went back to his desk and started prepping for English class. Likewise, I grabbed my textbook, notebook, and a pencil and stepped out into the hallway. Moments later, I heard Zuka behind me.
“I was up late last night watching nationals, so I didn’t get much sleep. Did you watch it?”
“No…”
“Come on, man! I’m talking about the representatives for Japan!”
Frankly, I had no idea whether he was talking about soccer or baseball or what, so there wasn’t much I could say. “Must be pretty cool to be Japan’s best.”
“Right?!” Zuka nodded, grinning. Crisis averted.
Although we were friends, the two of us were nothing alike. The only thing we had in common was our taste in music, which was how we ended up becoming friends with each other in the first place. But I guess sometimes that’s all you really need.
Zuka was athletic, good-looking, and taller than me. Anyone who saw us together probably thought we were a mismatched pair. Hell, even I was insecure about it.
Nerds like us, we’re cowards who would rather die than be caught copying the cool kids. If anyone deserved to be seen with Zuka, it was someone athletic and good-looking and cheerful and kind, like him. And if I had to choose someone from our class, it would probably be—
“Hey, Zuka! Notice anything different about me?”
Miki-san ran up next to Zuka as I walked beside him.
“What? Man, I don’t know. Do you know?” he asked me.
Obviously I couldn’t say it was her shampoo, but I couldn’t think of an answer that Miki-san would like, either, so I just shrugged like I didn’t care.
“There you have it, Mickey. Us guys aren’t gonna notice if you get your hair trimmed half an inch or whatever.”
Normally, whenever Zuka got sassy with her, she would just blink exaggeratedly and laugh. But today was different; an ellipsis rose up over her head. The emotions each type of punctuation represented generally varied from person to person, but in her case, ellipses signified frustration.
“With an attitude like that, no wonder Senpai dumped you.”
Oof.
And so Miki-san stormed off. Admittedly, yes, Zuka’s ex-girlfriend had ended their relationship just a few days prior. He claimed it was due to their differing tastes in music, but it sounded like there was more to it than that. Either way, he didn’t seem too devastated about it, so I chose not to worry about it myself, either.
“Man, that was harsh,” he laughed, like it was all fun and games. A single period floated over him—proof that he sincerely hadn’t taken it personally.
Inside the pleasantly air-conditioned language lab, Zuka and I went our separate ways. The seating arrangement was the same here as it was in our regular classroom, except instead of desks, we sat at long tables that could accommodate two students each. Embedded at the center of each table was a single computer monitor that displayed the coursework; both students would have to share this monitor.
We started class by reciting a rote English greeting, and after we made sure everyone was “fine, thank you,” it was time to focus on the monitor for listening practice. Since everyone had to share with their neighbor, this involved getting uncomfortably close to another student, which was typically nerve-racking for a loser like me. But these days, I didn’t have to worry about it; I had the monitor all to myself. Our class currently had an odd number of students, and as it happened, I was the only person sitting alone.
You see, one of the students in our class—Miyazato-san—hadn’t been back to school since the start of Golden Week about two months ago. But our class didn’t have any bullies or cliques that I knew of, so it couldn’t be that.
Miyazato-san was even more introverted than I was, if you can believe it. She was so quiet and unassuming, her sole hobby was cleaning her possessions. Maybe something happened to her that she didn’t feel comfortable talking about… I’d sat next to her for the first month of our second year, so every now and then I got worried, thinking maybe I had scared her off, but I had no way of finding out.
If I was sure that I had nothing to do with it, I could’ve asked Zuka to ask around on my behalf, but…truth be told, I had a reason to believe it might have been me. And I was terrified to think it was the conversation we had two months ago that drove her away.