Then, without warning, I felt a strange vibration in my neck, accompanied by a loud bellow. “Awnnnn! Awnnn! Ahovoo! Ahovoo”
It sounded like an animal, but it was Victor, I realized.
Victor using the voice I’d never heard before to call out my name. Victor speaking my language to tell me he loved me as he released into the condom.
“I love you, too!” I murmured into his ear, over and over again, until he was done.
So no izakaya for us.
Victor lifted me off of him as easy as if I was one of the lighter weights in his gym. And I sank bonelessly down to his pillow as he rolled to the side of the mattress to dispose of the condom.
He slid the covers over us a few moments later.
“Are you O-K?” he signed.
“I’m great!” I signed back, putting all the emphasis I could on my “great.” Then because I needed him to know he was the most amazing boyfriend ever, I added, “Sex with you was great!”
I’d hated how direct I had to be before. But the way he grinned back at me made me happy that sign language forces you to name some things exactly that you’d keep vague if you were just speaking.
A moment passed between us, the warm aftermath of what we did buzzing in the background.
Then he furrowed his brow and signed, “Did you truly think I didn’t want to have sex with you? Are you crazy?”
I laughed at his teasing question. “I have self-esteem issues. You know that.”
“Why?” he asked, looking utterly baffled. “You’re pretty and smart and talented. You agreeing to be my girlfriend was my luckiest day.”
His sincere confusion gave me all the gooey feelings. Could he be more romantic?
I found myself matching his truth. “You’re beautiful and smart and talented too. You asking me to be your girlfriend was my luckiest day.”
He grinned, and he pulled me into his arms. “We agree.”
I nodded against his chest with a giggle. “Yup.”
No more talking after that. We silently agreed to bask in the glory of what we’d just done.
And all I wanted in the world was to stay that way forever.
15
We basked in the afterglow of our lovemaking a little too long. Actually, a lot too long. When I woke up, it was dark outside. Not good, considering that sunset these days wasn't until after six.
Cursing, I rolled out of bed and scrabbled around for my clothes. It was too dark to see, even with Tokyo lit up beyond the picture windows in Victor’s bedroom. And I couldn’t figure out where the closest lamp was.
A small click sounded underneath all my shuffling, followed by enough light for me to spy my uniform lying on the floor at the bottom of Victor's low bed.
Also, Victor himself. He sat up, the soft white sheet slipping down to his waist. My face heated with memories of how I’d stared at what was hidden by the covers earlier.
“Where are you going?” he asked. He looked worried.
“I'm late!” I couldn’t sign because my hands were too busy putting back on my school uniform. “I'm late getting home from ‘art club.’ Late for dinner with my family. Late for everything. My parents are going to kill me!”
A sympathetic look replaced the worried one. “I have my meeting tonight. But I'll have Donny drive you home.”
“Yeah, you mentioned that earlier,” I answered, picking up my backpack. “What kind of high schooler has meetings at night, anyway—you know what, I don't have time to hear that answer. Main point, showing up in a Bentley would only make things worse.”
He frowned. “Donny can drive you to your station then. I don't like the idea of you walking alone at night.”
“This is Tokyo, not New Jersey,” I answered. “Plus, it’s rush hour. The train is probably faster. Sorry, I don't have time to argue with you about this. I’ve got to go!”
I think he was signing something else to me, but I was in such a rush, I didn’t see it.
I ran out of the room, past Donny standing outside the front door, and all the way to the station.
I suspected from the way the other passengers were openly staring at me that I must have looked a mess. As a black foreigner in a city composed of like, 80% people who looked fully Japanese, I get a lot of looks in general. But usually, they tried to hide it. Not this time. In fact, a few people openly stared at me as I found my way to an empty pole.
As soon we got into the tunnel part of this trip, and the windows were nice enough to provide a reflection, I could see why. Victor must've taken my hair out of its braid and ponytail holder while he was kissing me. It was now a messy bush of curls around my head. Also, my uniform shirt was buttoned the wrong way, and one of my socks was bunched up around my ankle.
