Because of the Boy

Melinda stops me on my way out of class. “Hey, wanna have lunch?” I ask her. A frown mars her wholesome face. “Have you seen Diana?” she replies. “No, I haven’t. She wasn’t in class, I assumed she’s sick. Why, what’s wrong?” We walk down the two flights of stairs and head towards the building that houses our study abroad program offices. “Diana isn’t the type to get sick and miss class,” Melinda continues, “for all my 3 years knowing her, she just isn’t. And she’s not picking up her phone.” I frown.

All of Melinda’s worries were justified. Diana was the type of girl who, as the Office Ladies (OLs) loved to call, was ketchi. She has the money – she just doesn’t like to spend it, unless she can justify the spending as justifiable. When we traveled to Sapporo, we decided to jointly purchase a 10-piece pack of the famous Sapporo white chocolates. That evening, Diana reneged on paying for half of the chocolates. “Hey – I’ll pay for the one piece I ate,” she generously offered. I told her it was unnecessary. She’s also the type of girl who comes to class everyday ready to learn and impress our teachers. All of her notes are neatly written and she earnestly pays attention to every word uttered by the teacher, while I look outside, dreaming of napping under the sunny warm sky inside the palatial Gosho walls.

The next day, I encountered Diana lurking outside of our classroom. It was still early yet and I called out to her. She jumped at my call and looked worried. “Hey!” I smiled. “Did you skip class yesterday?” I teased. She pulls me to the side and in a hushed voice groans. Concerned I waited to hear her story. “You’ll never believe what happened.” The usually composed Diana sat down on the bench near the windows. “You know that guy – the guy I met at the kimono show? We went out yesterday.” I grinned. “That’s wonderful news!” For weeks now, Diana hadn’t been able to stop gushing over the tall, lanky fair-haired American studying at the competing school across town. She had been quite taken with him and after the show, had openly asked him, “Give me your data.” My body had doubled over with laughter as I heard her pick-up line. “It’s not funny,” she grimaced, but burst out laughing along with me.

“So..?” I urged her to continue. She sighed. Her hand on her forehead. “It started out really nice,” she noted, “We had Thai for dinner and walked back to his dorm room. Oh Lucy, he has such an extensive collection of blues and rock! We listened to music and talked.” She paused, “Then, I realize what time it was and rushed out the door! I really thought I could catch the last train home, but the train stopped at Kyoto Station and that was as far as it was going to go.” Her face striken with embarrassment she continued. “So, I took a cab home.” I gasped, “You didn’t! You took a cab all the way home?”

While most of the students lived in Kyoto, Diana was one of the few whose host family lived far – in her case, Osaka. Even if one takes the express train, it’s still a 45-minute commute. And taxis in Japan are notoriously expensive. “I know,” explained Diana. “But I couldn’t spend the night with him! My host mom would have freaked out! So I caught a cab. I even asked the cab driver if I could pay with my credit card because I didn’t have enough cash on hand and he said yes. I got home okay, except when he parked outside the apartment complex and ran my card through, it wouldn’t take it. So...” she paused, “So he took me directly to the police station.” My mouth dropped an inch. “I tried to tell him I’d go up to my room and get him money – but he wouldn’t believe me!” she hurriedly explained. “Then they called my host mom. It was 3 a.m. in the morning Lucy!” she moaned as if under extreme duress still.

I leaned forward to hug her. “Diana, next time, call me.” I tell her. “I only live in Katsura, and it’s much closer to here than Osaka. And you could’ve crashed with me, my host parents wouldn’t have minded.” I offered. I cheekily smiled and injected, “Although you should have just spent the night with him and gotten to know him better!” She hit me on the shoulder. “Ow!” Rubbing the spot where it stung, I laughed. My head rolled back, my hair falling past my back, my face rising against the blue cloudless skies. Diana tried to frown, but couldn’t resist. The laughter coming from our hidden corner drew the attention of passersby.