Ink. Amanda Sun

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Ink - Amanda  Sun

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nothing.

      And then he slowly raised his arm, his finger pointed.

      “I can see up your skirt,” he said.

      Oh god.

      I’d totally forgotten I was wearing my short uniform skirt.

       Crap, crap, crap!

      I twisted to look down at the ring of students gathered around the tree trunk. They were starting to giggle, and if they hadn’t been looking up my skirt before, they definitely were now.

      A couple of squealing girls reached into their bags. They better not be bringing out cell phones to immortalize my humiliation.

      I let go of the branches with one hand to press my skirt tight against my legs. I turned back to look at Yuu. He was smiling, beaming even, like this was some sort of amusing moment we were sharing. Like it was just the two of us. And worse, the smile made my stomach twist. Then he beat his fists against his chest a couple times Tarzan-style and turned, walking out of sight.

      My fingers tightened around the branch. Why did he act like two different people? A giggle from below and my anger surged up again.

       All right, Mr. Creepy Sketch Guy. You want war?

      You’re on.

      The maze of Sunpu Park calmed me down a little. It always did, with the twisting hedges and the murky moats in deep channels. An old castle towered over the eastern side of the park, but I didn’t see much of it on my way home. I headed south over a long concrete bridge above the water teeming with koi, and then twisted past the underground walkways to Shin-shizuoka Station.

      I scanned my pass, and the little metal doors slammed into the sides of the barriers to let me through. I walked slowly to the platforms, my eyes squinting at the signs of scrolling kanji. The train was coming in three minutes, so I sat on one of the light blue benches and rested my bag on my lap.

      I noticed a twig caught in the wool of my skirt, and I pulled it from the fabric.

      “Why did I do that?” I groaned, slumping my chin on my bag. As if fitting in wasn’t hard enough, I had to go and climb a tree to yell at a boy and flash my underwear to half the school population.

      Maybe I should be sick tomorrow.

      A group of girls suddenly rushed in front of me, laughing as they punched out texts on their cell phones. One of them tripped over my foot, and her friends caught her by the shoulders as she stumbled.

      “Sorry!” I burst out, tucking my feet as far as I could under the bench.

      The girl looked at me for a minute, and then the three of them shuffled away, mumbling loudly to each other. Their green-and-blue-tartan skirts showed me they were from a different high school, so why should I care if they were being snobby? I wanted to stick my tongue out but stopped short. It was too much—I didn’t fit in at school, and I couldn’t even blend in at the train station. How the heck was I supposed to survive here anyway? Without Mom, without anything familiar. The tears started to blur in my eyes.

      I heard a muffled greeting as a boy called to the girls. They didn’t answer him. Typical. Rude bunch of—

      He said hello to them again. They still didn’t answer. What was their problem?

      “Domo,” he tried again, and this time I looked up.

      His dark eyes caught mine immediately. He had black hair that flopped around his ears, with two thick blond highlights tucked behind them. His bangs trailed diagonally across his forehead, so they almost covered his left eye. A silver earring glinted in his left ear as he nodded at me.

      Wait. He’s talking to me.

      “Hi?” I managed. It came out like a question.

      He smiled. He wore the same uniform colors as the girls—a white dress shirt and navy blazer, a green-and-blue tie and navy pants—and he leaned against the pillar near the bench. His body was turned away from the clique, and they seemed a little pissed that he was talking to me. From the smile on his face, I wondered if that was the point.

      “You go to Suntaba?” he said, pointing at my uniform.

      “Yeah,” I said.

      “You must speak Japanese well, then.”

      I smirked. “I wouldn’t say that.”

      He laughed and walked toward me. “Can I sit?” he said.

      “Um, it’s a free station.”

      “What?”

      “Nothing.” Okay, so when did hot guys from other schools start trying to pick me up on train platforms?

      He leaned in a little, so I leaned back.

      “Don’t let them get to you,” he mumbled. “They’re just airheads anyway.”

      “Them?” I said, looking over at the girls. They pretended they weren’t staring, which only made it more obvious.

      “Yeah,” he said.

      “It’s fine,” I said. “I’ve been through worse.”

      He laughed again. “Rough day?”

      “You have no idea.”

      “Jun!” one of the girls squealed at him—an ex he was trying to make jealous, maybe? He leaned in closer and winked like we were coconspirators. And then a little chime flooded the station, and the train roared past, the brakes squealing as it slowed.

      I grabbed my bag from my lap and we lined up by the giant white arrows on the floor. The cars opened up and we filed in. I grabbed the metal rail by the door so I could make a quick getaway at Yuniko Station. It’s not like I didn’t appreciate attention from Jun the ikemen—and was he ever gorgeous—but I just needed some space to myself to think.

      The doors closed behind us and the train lurched forward. But in the crowds outside the window, I saw a tall figure in the Suntaba uniform. With copper hair and a puffy bruise on his cheek.

      I stepped back as the train jolted, nearly knocking me over. It pulled slowly out of the station, barely moving along the platform.

      “You okay?” Jun said behind me.

      Impossible. Why would Yuu Tomohiro be here when I’d watched him walk the opposite direction? He looked different when no one was watching, like his features had softened. He waited in line for a Roman bus, emerald-green with an old motor that made the vehicle bump around as it idled. When it was his turn to get on, he actually stepped to the side with a smile and helped a gray-haired lady behind him up the steps.

      Was I hallucinating again? That did not just happen.

      Then I lost his face in the crowd, and the train reached the end of the platform, speeding up as it snaked across the bustling city.

      “I’m

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