Chapter 34
Aya was jolted awake by lightning outside the window.
It threw everything into a strange half-light, and she gave out a low moan.
Without knowing what had happened, she had grabbed Noah.
She could feel the cotton of his yukata, and she forced herself to release her grip. But she couldn’t slow her breathing.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said, but it didn’t come out right. “I just don’t really like lightning.”
“I think that’s it for a while,” said Noah, but he was wrong.
Aya tried to speak to distract herself. “It’s just that it reminds me a little bit of that hike senior year,” she managed. “Just, you know, there was lot of lightning that day too.”
“That was insane. You all could have been killed.”
She didn’t tell him she hadn’t wanted to go on the hike and had only signed up because she was so confused after prom night that she needed somewhere to put her emotions.
She couldn’t let her parents—or anyone else—find out what had happened.
She’d given a sanitized version to her friends, telling them that she and Noah had decided to just be friends.
It was less humiliating that way. They didn’t believe her, clearly, but at least it saved her from some of the teasing.
And fortunately, so many people had hooked up and broken up on prom night that any speculation was lost in the cloud of gossip that hung around the senior class like a haze of poison gas.
“I’m okay,” she said, trying to convince herself. “I’m safe.”
“If Mr. Mettemeyer had been a teacher, he would have been fired,” Noah went on. “I can’t believe anyone would give a guy like that permission to lead a group hike. He even has a pilot’s license, though I guess that shouldn’t surprise anyone.”
“Please. It really doesn’t help me when you say things like that.”
“You don’t find my anger soothing?” he asked, only half joking.
“No,” she said firmly. “Never, in fact.”
He shifted, and she thought they might separate, but his arms were still around her. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Something in his tone that made her wonder. “What is it, Noah?”
Another pause followed. “Well, you just seem like you’ve been angry too,” he said.
“Of course I’m angry!” she cried. “I’ve been angry forever, and this week has been a nightmare, honestly.”
“The f-festival?”
“I mean, yes, but not just that. Emi being here as well.”
“I thought you were still best friends. And you’re close with the other gyoza ladies or whatever.”
She giggled in spite of herself. “I think you get that name wrong on purpose. We were the dumpling club.”
“Okay, the dumpling club. I thought the four of you stayed more or less united.”
“Yes. And everyone is worried about me. But nobody lives here or even wants to come back for a visit, so they nominated Emi since she has a break from work for now. And, you know, money.”
“Money is useful sometimes,” said Noah in a tone she couldn’t quite decipher.
“Okay, sure.” She leaned her head back, closing her eyes. “I just wish I had more,” she mumbled.
Noah was silent, and she felt like he was her confessor.
Except that, back when she had actually gone to confession, she’d always hated it.
She used to invent sins to avoid having to share any of her actual life with Father Norton.
At the time, she had reasoned that the penance would be similar, so it was justified.
“I’m happy for Emi,” she said. “Honestly, I am, but it feels like it’s all happened for her. I mean, here we are, ten years out of high school, and she has everything.”
Noah sighed. “Not everything.”
“Everything,” she insisted. “Prestigious degree, dream job, a husband, a house, a car, and now a baby. Check, check, check.”
Noah didn’t say anything. “It’s not too late, though,” he said. “Come on, Aya. Especially not for someone like you.”
She opened her eyes and looked up at his face.
“Sure,” she said. “But it could be. I haven’t really moved toward any of those things, and now both my job and my degree are potentially down the drain.
And you know, a decade of my life. So that night on the mountain could have been life-changing, but it clearly wasn’t.
Not for me. And now I’m just here, an object of pity for my friends. ”
“That’s probably the wrong word,” said Noah.
“You don’t pity me?” she asked. Her voice was trembling again.
In the faint moonlight, she could see his wide grin. “You’re smart, you’re generous, and you’re beautiful,” he said. “No, Aya. No pity here.”
All of a sudden, his face was closer to hers, his arms tight around her, and she had to catch her breath. Noah Kato was dangerous for her. If she let herself get any ideas, she was going to be stuck trying to rid her mind of him for at least another decade.
Still, she kissed him. It was incredible.
She was more attracted to him than ever. Back on prom night, even the kissing had been a little awkward. Neither one of them had been experienced, and Aya had found herself scared and excited in equal parts about the actual logistics of what was supposed to follow.
But she didn’t need to give in to worries like that anymore.
The night when she’d lost her virginity sophomore year of college to a guy in her study group had not been unpleasant, if slightly underwhelming, and she’d had many experiences since then that helped her figure out what she liked.
And she definitely liked the way Noah was kissing her.
Aya found herself fumbling with the tie on his yukata, cursing his neat little knots.
She loved what she saw. Noah Kato didn’t do shirtless photos.
Aya had looked for them, though she never admitted it to anyone.
He had shown off his arms in sleeveless shirts for certain magazines, though.
She loved his tattoos, and she thought she must be the only person who understood all of them.
He didn’t go in for many tattoos that had Chinese characters, so there were none that appeared in photos, but she knew he had “Fall down seven times, get up eight” written vertically between his shoulder blades.
She’d heard about that one through the grapevine, and apparently, Nami had teased him that he would need a mirror to even remember what was written back there.
But Aya, whose family had also embraced the resilience in that motto, had always hoped she would see it.
But at the moment, she was too busy kissing him to go investigate his back tattoo.
Then a memory hit her, and she stopped. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea.”
He pulled back, staring into her eyes. “What?”
“That’s what you said to me,” she said. “Last time we were here.”
His arms were still around her, and he moaned. “I was hoping you would contradict me,” he said.
She snorted. “Are you serious right now, Noah Kato? You were hoping I would tell you you were wrong?”
“Yes.”
“You needed more confirmation or something?”
He stroked her hair. “I mean, I think I was still kind of taken in by the Catholic thing. Do you know what Father Giacamo told us?”
Aya put a hand over her eyes. “Do I want to know? Okay, fine. Tell me.”
He stroked her stomach through the yukata, and she tensed up. “That if we had relations with a young woman, we should come beg her for her forgiveness. Because tempting her into sin was sinning against her, and we had no right to inflict that on someone.”
She sighed. “I’m so glad your family isn’t Catholic anymore.”
Pulling her hands back down, gazing into his eyes again. “So you wanted me to overcome your resistance,” she said, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “I think I might be able to do that.”
She reached down, but he grabbed her wrist. “There’s something you should know.”
“What?” She felt impatient. The moment had some sort of wedding-night feeling to it, like they had gone through a whole production, and they were finally ready to reap the private reward. Of course, it was a dance that had gone on for years, starting when they were much younger.
“That night,” he said, “w-well, for me, it had a r-really big impact.”
She loved it when he stuttered. To Aya, Noah’s voice when he was stuttering was at its most beautiful.
With the world outside, he was the famous Noah Kato, never deigning to say more than a few words.
And if he did have to speak in public, he busted out every possible trick he could to avoid stuttering.
He never introduced himself or his band members by name, for example.
He called them something different every time.
He never called himself Noah but said, “I’m your young lover,” or “I’m a fool with a guitar,” or even, “I’m a man who thinks the ladies in the front row here at Jo-Jo’s look fucking amazing! ”
Aya had watched that video more than once. It always put her in a bad mood.
But when he stuttered with her, he was showing her he was comfortable. He trusted her, and letting her hear his thoughts was the most important part, not hiding his stutter.
“What is it?” she asked, still impatient.
“Um, so, I never really came b-back from that,” he said. “I’ve never had sex.”
Aya’s first reaction was to laugh. She couldn’t stop herself. The more she laughed, the more the merriment seemed to take over her whole body. He had said it with such sincerity too.
“Noah, please. I’m not a virgin, either, obviously. You don’t have to say things like that!”
When he didn’t respond right away, she kept chuckling, but then her laughter died.
“Wait. You can’t be serious.”
“W-What? Is it so unbelievable?”
Some of her anger came back. “I mean, yes! You’re always in the tabloids with some hot woman. They speculate all the time about how much play you must be getting.”
“By design,” he said quietly.
“How come nobody has talked?” she asked, still peering at him. She didn’t think Noah would actually lie to her, yet it was at odds with the image he’d projected for years, so she couldn’t quite believe it.
“And say what? ‘Noah and I had a nice time, but he dropped me off at my door’? Even if one person told the tabloids that, they wouldn’t believe it. And they certainly wouldn’t think it was true for absolutely everyone.”
“But there would be a rumor, something like that. Wouldn’t they decide you’re gay?”
He grinned. “Well, I’m not,” he said, leaning in to kiss her neck. “I mean, there are plenty of ladies who know that much.”
His kisses took her breath away for a minute, then she took one of his hands in hers.
“So, is this really okay, then?” she asked. Maybe there was more about him she hadn’t realized. If he was secretly a virgin, he could secretly also be a Buddhist monk or something. “What were you waiting for?”
“You,” he said then kissed her again. “I was waiting for you.”