“If that guy with that hot body let me kiss him again.”
He flushed and turned toward the stairs, heading up to the second floor without giving me another glance. Did he want me to follow him or was he running away again? Licking my lips, I grinned and prepared to chase after him.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I groaned, heading outside to take the call rather than risk the wrath of the librarians if I happened to get too loud on the first floor. Mom’s name was on the screen, along with a small thumbnail picture of her smiling face, and I slid the green button up to take the call.
“There you are!” Mom said before I could get a word out. “How are you doing?” She was breathing hard, and obnoxious, sweet high-pitched laughter rang out in the background. “Asuka! If you go near that vase, you will regret it!” She swore. “Sono kabin ni chikazuku to ato yo!”
“Mada oshiete imasu ka?” I asked with a laugh.
“Your father has been gone a lot the last few months,” she said with a groan. “And I’ve been so lazy with it. If Asuka can’t speak Japanese the next time your grandfather sees him, I’m pretty sure your ojiichan’s head will explode. He already says things like, Yukio was so much more well-behaved. He’s always spoken Japanese.” She imitated my grandpa’s gruff tone perfectly. “I can’t get your ojiichan to understand that we suspect Asuka has autism, which changes things a little for him. He didn’t even start talking until last year.”
Rolling my eyes, I sighed. “I learned Japanese because Dad was still learning English and used Japanese more then. Now he speaks English as much as you do. Plus, Asuka has no friends who speak it, and I had Kenji down the street.”
“I know. It’s just frustrating. Maybe you should explain it to Ojiichan because he won’t listen to me when I tell him things are different than when you were little. Ha!” she yelled, and I heard a happy squeal on her end, so I figured she was playing tag with Asuka around the house, something he’d always loved to do.
“How’s Dad?”
“In Japan again.”
Blinking, I stared up at the darkening sky and the stars that began to peek out. The air had a damp chilliness to it that let me know we would be getting real autumn weather soon, and excitement smacked me. I loved the Northeast during the fall. It was so different from So Cal. “He’s been away for work a lot. Is there something you want to tell me? Are you getting a divorce?”
She groaned. “Stop that. If there was another woman, he would try to get me to join.”
“Ew! I didn’t need that in my brain!” I stuck out my tongue even though she couldn’t see me.
She laughed. “Then don’t say things you shouldn’t. That’s your punishment.”
“But why—”
“Business.” I didn’t ask again because it wasn’t safe for her to get too detailed over the phone. “And your grandfather wants to take care of some inheritance stuff. Apparently, there is a beautiful house somewhere out in the country that has belonged to the family for generations, but your uncles don’t want it because they live in Tokyo, and they couldn’t care less about it, and of course, we already have a nice house here and I work here. Your father thinks your ojiichan wants to give it to you or maybe Asuka.”
“Interesting. Is this why you called?” I wasn’t sure I wanted an old house in Japan, either, but no one had asked me.
“Are you so eager to go study?” she asked, and there was a bit of suspicion in her tone.
“As far as you know.”
She huffed, but I started a video call and panned around to the front of the library. She laughed, and I missed her when our gazes connected through the phone. “You are as bad as your dad. Okay. Go. Be good! I love you!” She brushed her short black hair away from her face.
The screen shifted and I could tell small hands were grabbing it and tugging it down. Asuka blinked up into the camera and my heart twisted. He was so cute. He had a tiny button nose and brown eyes that were bright and happy.
“Hey, what are you doing?” he demanded. “When are you coming home?” His tiny scowl made me wish I could hug him.
“Probably for Thanksgiving.”
“Okay!” he chirped, and then Mom yelled as he ran off with her phone. I ended the call as the screen did a crazy jig while he darted through the house. I was smiling when I turned to go back into the library. It was nice to be on my own, but I missed home. I took my time making my way to the table Micah usually claimed, and once there, I found an interesting mystery.
His belongings were at the table—but he wasn’t.
After a second of pondering, I made a beeline toward the men’s restroom on this level. The entrance was hidden in a small alcove past a water fountain, and my heart leaped as the door opened when I reached it.
Micah gasped like a heroine in a horror movie, and I pushed him back into the restroom, power surging through me. I slipped my phone into my back pocket.
His mouth opened and closed several times as I shoved him through the open door of the biggest stall, then locked it behind myself. He seemed so stunned that it didn’t take much to thump him back against the gray tiled wall. I dropped my book bag on the floor beside us.
“Are you gonna let me test my theory? Am I a good kisser?”
“Do you want to do that?” he whispered. He ran his hand along his neck, and I smirked when he touched one of the tiny bruises I’d given him the last time I’d kissed him. Had he been playing with it while he thought of me?
