Buried in Summer
THE FIRST TIME I heard her surname said aloud, it sounded so soft. Shimamura. Or maybe “soft” was just her general vibe.
She was a classmate whose first name I didn’t even know. We’d met in the gym loft entirely by chance—most likely drawn to each other on a whim. Then that happened a second time, and a third, and now… Well, by this point, I’d lost count.
Summer was still in full force, and sweat glued my shirt to my back. The more I focused on that, the more uncomfortable I felt, so instead I stared at the floor and tried to keep my mind as blank as possible. The stagnant air burned my throat when I inhaled, but eventually I got used to it.
Taking a sip of lukewarm bottled water, I shot a passing glance at Shimamura next to me. Her (I assume) bleached hair stood out against the gym’s muted white walls. Her summer uniform was disheveled, her socks discarded. From the way her eyelids drooped in tandem with her chin, she looked like she might fall asleep at any moment, which was impressive given the heat. As I gazed at her, I resisted the urge to follow suit.
Not that I had anything important to stay awake for right now—well, aside from the fact that school was in session, but I had chosen to disregard that and retreat up here while everyone else was in class. Oddly enough, I found it kind of fun to be so far removed from the others, though I lacked the vocabulary to fully explain the thrill.
Now there were two of us, though.
I didn’t like being around people. I was constantly on edge in social situations, afraid of messing up, and it left me utterly drained. It really couldn’t be more obvious that I was better suited to solitude. Yet here I was with Shimamura.
“Hey, Adachi?” she said, her voice as lethargic as both our eyes.
“What?” I asked through slightly parted lips, not turning my head to look at her.
“How come…” There was a small pause; a cicada’s weakened wail briefly filled the silence. “Never mind.”
“Come on, don’t leave me hanging. Now I’m curious.”
“Oh yeah? Good. Maybe the mystery will keep you coming back.”
Our conversation had rounded edges, like the slightest trace of a dream, and bounced back and forth with all the energy of a ping-pong ball. Perhaps Shimamura was also enjoying this more than she let on.
“Makes sense.” In that case, she would be better off keeping it to herself.
If I had to guess, she was probably going to ask why I bothered coming to school at all if I was just going to sit in the gym loft instead of going to class. But at this point, I couldn’t recall what specifically had driven me away. I suspected Shimamura’s story was much the same. We had no real reason to play hooky—no motive to come up here. Most likely, neither of us actually knew what we were doing.
If we did have a reason, however trivial…maybe that would’ve made things interesting. Maybe if I left the house with some compass to follow, it would’ve made the long walk easier. Sure, I broke the rules of what was “normal,” but still…I found myself hoping to stay buried in summer for just a little longer.
When it came time to crawl back out, I knew I’d be on my own again.
No Comments Yet
Post a new comment
Register or Login