So, What Does Adachi Like?
THE FIRST TIME I’d pondered that question was after our conversation in the gym loft petered out. As agonizing silence lingered, my heart scrambled for a foothold, but Adachi and I had nothing in common. The only relief afforded to me was the distant chirping of the cicadas, and even that was quieting.
My gaze wandered the short distance to where she sat. The loft was by no means a comfortable place to hang out, yet she’d chosen to come up here, knowing it meant she’d dab sweat away every other minute. Her steely expression gave no clues to whatever her motivations might’ve been. But though she wasn’t very chatty, she replied whenever I spoke to her, so I was reasonably confident that she didn’t find me annoying. That was more heartening than the prospect of sitting in silence with someone who hated my guts. If I had irritated her, she wouldn’t have come up here to begin with!
Sure, we hadn’t planned to meet here, but seeing as it had happened regardless, I wanted to make the most of it. While we weren’t obliged to talk, I couldn’t think of a reason not to. That said, I’d never normally have gone to such lengths to keep a conversation alive. Maybe my effort was inspired by the unusual circumstances: just the two of us, alone in the gym while everyone else was in class. On some level, it seemed like a great opportunity, and I didn’t want it to go to waste.
Perhaps what we needed was a shared interest to get the ball rolling. But, come to think of it, what were my interests? Sleeping, for one. Then there were tamagoyaki and okonomiyaki—anything cooked on a griddle, really. Oh, and…dogs. The more I thought about it, the more answers I struck upon, but none were especially relevant.
I could feel the heat melting my inhibitions. Still, I couldn’t just start talking about tamagoyaki out of nowhere. Adachi would respond with two or three words at best, and at worst, she’d give me a weird look. Next, I considered asking about makeup or fashion—broadly popular topics among our peers—but she didn’t seem like the type to care. She was easily the prettiest girl in our class, but she got a lot of mileage out of her natural good looks.
“You must go on a lot of dates,” I said offhandedly. Our heads tilted in opposite directions as we fanned desperately at our necks.
“What? Not at all.” Her voice bounced off the gym loft walls like a stray ping-pong ball. “Nobody talks to me. I’m ‘too quiet’ or whatever.”
“Well, I think you’re pretty, however quiet you are.”
“Less work for me, then.”
She didn’t seem to have taken my compliment seriously. If I had to guess, I’d say she had no interest in other people’s opinions of her, so she didn’t bother expending the energy to analyze them. Since I understood that outlook all too well, I was starting to think the two of us would get along after all. At the end of the day, we weren’t invested in each other, which was what made it easy.
Wiping a bead of sweat from the tip of my nose, I paused to listen to the cicadas’ caterwauling. Come to think of it, summer was another thing I liked a fair amount. Specifically, I liked that you could always tell when it had begun—not because of some subtle shift in temperature, like the other seasons, but because of the bugs. Once they started their screeching, you could be certain that spring was over. That lack of ambiguity made it easier to let go.
“Do you like summer?” I asked.
“You sure love to change the subject, huh?”
Our conversation was carrying on sporadically, like little bubbles rising to the water’s surface only to pop moments later. You couldn’t call it productive in any regard, but then again, the time we shared in the gym loft never was.
“I’ve never thought about whether I like any season. Summer’s…fine, I guess.”
“You don’t mind the heat, I take it?”
“Hmm,” she murmured, and I could practically smell her sweat from where I sat. “On second thought, it sucks.”
“Yeah.”
For once, we were on the same page, and it made me giggle. Adachi didn’t laugh, but I thought the corners of her lips curled. Gazing down absently at our discarded socks, I wriggled my bare toes, as if to shake off the lingering humidity.
Would we still be here once the last vestiges of summer faded away? Now that our paths had crossed, where would we go next? My silent questions fell to the floor like dying cicadas—but neither they nor I had given up the ghost quite yet.
For now, I decided to search for what was clear-cut about this ambiguous connection. After all, I had nothing better to do. That was as good a reason as any, albeit a little backward in its conception. So I would stay right here, in our private sanctuary…at least until summer ended.
***
Looking back, that was the summer things changed: Adachi’s attitude, Adachi’s behavior… Well, everything about Adachi, really. After that, it took me a long, long time before I figured out what she was truly interested in.
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