The wind howled as we stood there, locked in each other's gaze. He dropped his shorts and glanced around me, his eyes darting up and down, side to side. "What are you looking for?" I asked, my voice trembling. "I just confessed to you."
"Yeah, I know," he replied, his tone flat. "I remember you said you wanted to be an actress back in our third year. I thought you were rehearsing a script or something."
"ANDREW, DOES IT LOOK LIKE I'M ACTING?!" I shouted, tears welling up in my eyes.
"THEN WHAT CAN EXPLAIN THIS? YOU'RE ACTING WEIRD, KYOKO!" he shot back, his anger palpable. I knew he was upset—he always pointed his finger at me when he was angry, and he rarely called me by my first name anymore. He sat on the arm of the sofa, his frustration evident.
"Let's get this straight," he said, his voice firm. "You're my friend, and I'm not some G-spot accountant with a fancy suit, an expensive watch, and a ladies' man reputation. If you're drunk, you better snap out of it."
I couldn't believe he remembered the type of guy I described to him and Lemon back in our second year. "I understand," I said, my voice breaking. "But I don't think I'll ever find a guy like that. You're the only option left for me."
"Wait, don't tell me it's because..." he trailed off, his expression hardening.
"Yeah, I know," I admitted, my face flushing. "I only have a few months left, and you know that. Throughout all these years, I've never had the chance to go on dates, get a boyfriend, or experience what most girls do—kissing, holding hands, all of that."
"Wow," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "So, you're asking me to be your gigolo?"
"No! Never!" I protested. "I'm just asking you to be my boyfriend."
"You're throwing yourself at me for free," he said, standing up and grabbing his phone. "Thanks for the accommodation. I'm going to take my leave now."
"Andrew, wait!" I called out, but he was already gone, his anger evident. I sank to the floor, tears streaming down my face. I regretted my words, but at the same time, I couldn't blame myself. He was the only one around during this difficult time. I couldn't just go around asking random guys for what I wanted. "I'm totally screwed," I muttered to myself.
The dreadful night passed, and I returned to work, exhausted but determined to distract myself. My coworkers seemed to have missed me, and I handed out souvenirs from my travels—mostly snacks—to everyone. I retreated to my office, sitting at my desk, my mind still reeling from the previous night's conversation. I shouldn't have come to work this week, but it was the only way to keep my mind off things. I had been calling Andrew ever since that night, but he ignored both my calls and messages. I buried my face in my hands. "Fuck everything," I whispered.
Work hours dragged on, and I eventually headed home, stopping to buy groceries along the way. When I got home, I realized I hadn't cleaned up that morning. "Nice one, Andrew," I muttered, turning on the vacuum cleaner. As I cleaned, I spotted his shorts on the sofa. Maybe I should call him again, I thought. But no, it would seem like I was desperate. I closed my phone, only to open it again moments later, my finger hovering over his contact info. I debated back and forth until I accidentally dialed his number.
*Ring, ring, ring.*
Just as I was about to give up, he answered. "Hello, this is D Grey's Sauna House," he said in his usual mock commercial voice.
"Andrew, it's me," I said softly.
He hung up immediately. I sighed deeply. I had been living my life just fine before I met him a few months ago, so why did everything feel so boring and uninteresting now? He would always crack his silly jokes, just like Brook from *One Piece*. I wondered if he had caught up with the latest episodes.
Five days passed without a word from him. I even went to his house, but he wasn't there. As I was driving, I spotted him in front of a church. I drove past, thinking it couldn't be him—he was an atheist, after all. Then I remembered he used to sell drugs near that church back in school. I parked and approached cautiously, my medium-length skirt swaying as I walked. I didn't care how I looked; I just needed to talk to him.
I saw a mother near the church and asked her about the man I had seen. We chatted for a while until I spotted Andrew exchanging greetings with the priest. He noticed me and decided to play a little prank. "It's Kyoko," he said, grabbing my hand and turning me around. Tears were already streaming down my face.
"What's wrong with you, Kyoko?" he asked.
"Fuck you, Andrew," I sobbed. "Fuck you."
"Look, I'm sorry about the argument. Let's just leave it behind us," he said.
"THAT'S NOT IT!" I shouted. "I talked to the mother earlier. She said you've been coming here for six months, donating Bibles and other things. She said you've been praying for someone close to you who's sick. I checked your apartment, thinking maybe if I paid your overdue rent, it would make you happy. But the landlady said you paid three years in advance. Why were you staying with me, Andrew? Do you actually care about me?"
He held my hands and lifted my face, his own eyes watering. "I like you, Natsu," he admitted. "It's been a long time. That's why I asked you about your ideal type. When you described it, I thought you didn't see me as a guy, so I stayed in my lane."
"No, it's not like that," I said, my voice trembling. "I thought about it once, maybe you'd ask me out. I was just complaining, but—"
He silenced me with a kiss. I was shocked but didn't resist. I grabbed his face, the kiss deepening until the mother coughed, snapping us back to reality. We both bowed our heads in apology and left the church, embarrassed.
We got into the car, neither of us speaking. Finally, I broke the silence. "So, Andrew, how long have you been going to church?"
"Close to four days," he replied. "Fasting and stuff."
I nodded, focusing on the road. The memory of the kiss replayed in my mind, and I couldn't help but blush. It was my first kiss, and I was overwhelmed. I glanced back at him, but he was already fast asleep, exhausted.
When we arrived home, I decided to cook for him since he mentioned he was fasting. An hour later, he came inside. "I'm sorry I fell asleep," he said.
"No problem," I replied. "I cooked for you. Are you still fasting, or should I not have bothered?"
"No, thanks. I'm done fasting," he said, sitting down to eat. "It might be cold. Should I microwave it?"
"No, it's fine," he said, taking a bite. He noticed me fidgeting. "You want to say something?" he asked.
"Nothing," I said, clapping my hands nervously. "It's just... we kind of kissed earlier. So, I'm wondering if that was a yes, or if you were just fooling around like you do with most girls."
He didn't answer, just kept eating. "Ah, sorry," I said, turning away, my hopes dashed. "I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up."
He grabbed my hand and showed me something on his phone. I took it and saw my number saved as "My Angel." I looked back at him, my heart swelling. "Andrew, are you serious?" I asked, my voice soft.
He nodded, and I couldn't contain my joy. "Can I have a hug?" I asked, and he stood up, wrapping me in a warm embrace. We fell asleep not long after, and I realized— I finally had a boyfriend.