DRAWN (14 page)

          The unusual mix of pain and pleasure from Yuki’s bite makes me shiver. I rub the tip of my ear with a scowl at Yuki’s direction. “You did that on purpose!”

          “Just a little payback for lying.”

          “You---”

          Yuki’s hand starts moving again.

          I totally forget what I have to say. The chances of recovery become even slimmer when Yuki’s fingers trace random patterns on the skin he’s exposed by unbuttoning my blouse.

          “Go on,
senpai
.”

          “I…you…fantasies…other guys…”

          The fingers stop moving.

          Yuki’s gaze is intense. “Continue,
senpai
,” he says quietly.

          I breathe a sigh of relief at the reprieve. I clear my throat again, getting rid of the lust-induced fog in my brain at the same time. “Well, you said that I shouldn’t have other, umm, you know, about other guys.”

          I take a deep breath. “So…I’m cool with that, but…” Here comes the hard part, and I say the last words in a rush just so I can be done with it.

          “You have to make it worth my while!”

          I peek at his expression.

          “I think I can handle that,” he says in a fake humble tone.

          “Don’t get any ideas---” My voice trails off because his fingers have started moving again. I shake my head, hoping it can also temporarily shake off the drugging effects of those fingers.

          “I just want you to understand that I’m kinda…umm…into those fantasies because they help me draw.”

          Yuki blinks. “I confess,
senpai
, I never thought of that angle.”

          I look away, feeling like I’ve just exposed an important layer of myself.

          “It’s nothing to be ashamed about,
senpai
.”

          The way he reads my mind so well should be creepy, but somehow I just find it weirdly touching.

Striving to lighten things up, I ask, “So…what about you? Boundaries?”

          “Just one,
senpai
.”

          “Aaaand?”

          He says almost sadly, “Just don’t fall in love with me.”

          Oh.

          “
This
is turning out like something you read in those romance novels,” I say glumly.

          “And that saddens you?”

          I nod. “Because I don’t know what my lines should be. I only read
manga---
”

          Yuki’s laughter drowns the rest of what I have to say. “I never thought I’d miss you this much,
senpai
.”

          As usual, the wondering tone of his words leaves me a little disgruntled. “You are so good at flattery,” I snarl.

          Yuki takes me home after dinner. When I step out of the car, he asks, “What are your plans for tomorrow?”     

I wait for him to lock his car before asking back, “For Saturday?”

          “And Sunday.”

          “Nothing, I guess. Why?”

          Yuki smiles. “Let’s go on a trip,
senpai
, just you and me.”

          My laughter fades when I realize he’s serious. “You want us to leave, just like that? Where would we go? What if---”

          “Just say yes or no,
senpai
, and leave all the planning to me.”

          His baby blues make it impossible for me to say anything but yes.

          “But my mom has to let me go first,” I warn.

          “She will,” Yuki answers simply. “Parents always love me.”

          Another bloody one-liner. Will wonders never cease?

“So you’re my little girl’s not-so-little boyfriend.” Kelly
never
fails to embarrass me, which is why I only have the confidence to invite Lace to my home. First impressions can be very deceptive, and it’s true in Kelly’s case. She’s of medium height, with the same red brown hair that I have but which she likes keeping up in a sleek-looking twist. She’s also frequently dressed in one power suit after another, even at home, and she loves wearing incredibly high stilettos.

          She looks glamorous all the time, actually, but it’s an illusion. The moment my mom opens her mouth, it’s impossible not to notice that she’s too immature for her children’s good. Every week, she gives all of us reasons to think of reporting her to Social Services.

          “Mom, please.” Why can’t she just say ‘hi’ like normal mothers do?

          Kelly glances at me in surprise. “But he is, isn’t he?”

          “Yeah, he’s that,” I mumble. Yuki and I have agreed that it’s better for my mom to think we’re going out. If we don’t, leaving together for the weekend just won’t make sense.

          Yuki bows.

I hide a laugh at the startled look on Kelly’s face. Usually, it’s the other way around and she’s the one shocking people.

          “Why is he bowing like I’m the Queen?”

          Yuki straightens. “It’s a form of respect where I come from, Mrs. Chariot.”

          “Mom, he’s half-Japanese.” I can’t believe I have to explain something so glaringly obvious to a woman who’s so smart she made headlines when she graduated from college. It’s not like Yuki looks anything but Jap, baby blues not considering.

          Kelly looks unconvinced. “I thought he was just cosplaying---”

          “Never mind that,” I interrupt, sure that what else she has to say is going to be more embarrassing. How does she even know about cosplaying, anyway?

I pull her further inside our not-so-spacious living room, with its whitewashed walls decorated with framed photos. A faded white baby grand piano presides like an out-of-place VIP in the corner, but it functions more like a coat stand nowadays with an assortment of jackets, scarves, and windbreakers dumped on its keyboard case.

“Come and sit down,” I tell Yuki, gesturing to the foam green armchair near the paneled cabinet hiding the TV. Kelly stays on her feet while I sit at the edge of the floral cushion. It’s either that or I stand as well since Kelly’s work folders have completely taken over the living room.

          “Mom,” I begin.

          Kelly looks at me expectantly.

          I wilt.

It’s my first time to ask something like this from either of my parents and it’s not…easy. I look at Yuki pleadingly.

          Without missing a beat, he says, “I know it’s short notice, Mrs. Chariot, but I’m wondering if you would trust me with your daughter for a weekend trip?”

          Kelly doesn’t even blink, I’ll give her that. “Oh? Where to?”

          Yuki names a resort in Key West that has my mom’s eyebrows arching. I admit mine did, too, when Yuki told me where we’re going – if I get to go. I have a pretty comfortable life, thanks to Kelly’s six-figure salary, but our family vacations definitely don’t involve the kind of places that make it to a list by Fodor’s all the time.

          “If you think I’m going to pay that much,” Kelly begins.

          “Mom!” Whenever Kelly speaks, I feel like all my verbal reasoning powers are stolen and I end up reverting back to a helpless seven-year-old.

          “I’d be honored if you’d give me permission to treat your daughter, Mrs. Chariot.” It’s perfect, polite, and courteous Yuki at his best.

          “May I borrow your phone, please?”

          Yuki blinks and I can only give him a weak smile. I’m used to Kelly’s frequent meteoric conversational jumps from one subject to another but I know it’s pretty hard to adjust to the first time. And anyway, what’s Kelly planning to do with his---

          My head snaps back to Yuki just as he hands his iPhone to Kelly.

         
The video
? I mouth frantically.

          Yuki flushes, muttering under his breath, “Of course I’ve deleted it.” He glares at me. “I told you, I don’t really keep that kind of stuff.”

          “Here you go,” Kelly says, startling us both.

          She hands the iPhone back to Yuki with another sweet smile – the kind I don’t trust and especially when she adds, “You should make the most out of the weekend,” she says, checking her watch. “If you leave in an hour or so, I think you can still make it there and have a late dinner.”

          It’s professional, polite workplace Kelly at her best.

          I’m totally not buying it.

“
What
did you do to his phone?”

          Kelly glowers, hands on her lips like I’ve just accused her of adultery. “Are you saying I broke it? Me? The engineer working with exceptionally complex---”

          “Spill it,” I growl, cutting her off. Kelly only uses her “smart person’s” job as a trump card when she needs an excuse to throw her weight around or get away with something she’s not supposed to do.

          She exhales in exasperation. “I just made sure I can track him, that’s all.”

          “Mom!”

          She throws her hands up. “Can’t I look after you?”

          “You can – from jail! I’m pretty sure what you did is illegal!”

          She sends Yuki another sweet smile. “But you don’t mind, do you, Yuki?”

          “Of course not, Mrs. Chariot.” Then he asks, “We may…leave tonight?”

          Kelly’s face softens even more. “As soon as you get your stuff packed. I was young, too, you know.” She gives me an arch look. “And though it may not look like it, I trust my daughter.”

          “We’re not going to do anything, Mom, I promise,” I mumble, a little uncomfortable at her rare display of maternal affection. I know Kelly loves me and I love her, too, but the two of us are just more used to arguing. I like to see it as our unique mutual way for expressing affection for each other.

          “Just call me when you get there and text me from time to time so I don’t worry,” Kelly adds.

          “I will.”

          She turns to Yuki with a sudden frown. “Oh, and young man?”

          I stop myself in time from rolling my eyes.
Young man?
Really? Kelly has got to stop watching all those movies in TNT Classics.

          “Yes, Mrs. Chariot?”

          “Make sure to get her back in one piece.”

          Oh, for the bloody love…

          “Mom!”

          But Yuki takes it seriously. “You have my word, Mrs. Chariot.”

          “Exactly the way she left.”

          Uhh…how else would I come back? In halves?

          Yuki nods again.

          “
Untouched
.” And that’s the only time Kelly looks satisfied with her warnings.

I’m still suffering from post-traumatic stress hours later, and Yuki and I walking to our beachside cottage. I mean, really.
Untouched?
Kelly makes me sound like an irresistible diva with D-cups when she very well knows I’ve got an inch or two to spare with my As.

UNICEF should have a rule about unlawful acts of humiliation by parents so that repeat offenders like Kelly can be sent to their rooms without dinner. They need timeout to reflect on their acts of child abuse.

“We’re here,” Yuki says as he unlocks the door with the card key.

The beachside cottage that Yuki has rented for the weekend looks like it’s been designed with honeymooning couples in mind, which I do my best not to think about. Its walls are painted in shades of mauve and lavender, with touches of contemporary mechanical designs – like the incredible freestanding clock with its steel inner structure exposed and pop-out artworks hanging from the walls – offering a cool contrast to the rustic wood furniture. The living room opens to a balcony and its own private infinity pool, which is bordered by colored stone tiles and a trio of lounge chairs.

          Another door to my far right leads to the bedroom, where I catch a glimpse of a king-sized bed and its own glass doors leading to the pool.

          Still, I barely have time to take everything in after I set my things down. After making a quick change of clothes, with Yuki swapping his pants for board shorts and me putting on a summer dress and a bikini, we hurry down to the beach to make it to our last-minute reservation for dinner.

          Only three tables remain occupied when we get there, but Yuki still opts for one of the tables in the restaurant’s al fresco area, away from all the diners. The familiar salty scent of the beach swirls around us while the evening wind plays with our hair. Candlelight dances between us as the waiter hands us the menu and murmurs about returning when we’re ready to give our orders.

          I read the name of the restaurant emblazoned on the menu’s covers with excitement. “This is a Michelin star restaurant!”