Have Your Cake and Eat it Too

Forty-four. There are exactly forty-four tiles that lead from classroom 1-A to the Home-Ec room. How do I know? I’ve counted those tiles every day for the past month. A distraction developed to avoid eye contact with my fellow classmates.

Today isn’t any different. I stare at the clock that hangs above the white board in Home Room and rest my chin in my palm, then sigh. I don’t hear a word my teacher is saying. The bell rings and I pack up my books and sling my bag over my shoulder, readying myself to once again make the grueling trek to Home-Ec. I count the tiles.

“Move it loser!” An older kid shoves me out of the way, and I stumble and smack into a classroom door. I glare in his direction and think to myself, (The teachers tell us you third years are supposed to set an example. What a joke.) I huff then rub my shoulder and hitch up my bag; I proceed in counting the tiles. (Loser, freak...yeah those are names I hear often, but I don’t care. To hell with them and their opinions.) “Forty-four,” I say as I reach the classroom, my gaze hidden behind long brown bangs as I slowly tear my eyes away from the floor.

“Did you say something Hissori?” A familiar fairy-like voice perks up my ear. Instantly my palms start to sweat as my heart begins to pound in my chest.

“Oh! Ikasu. N-nothing. I didn’t say anything.” I wave my hands in defense. Tamiko Ikasu, the only reason I’m able to endure the treacherous walk through the halls. For one amazing hour I get to spend time with the most popular girl in class. I’ve had a crush on her since the 4th grade. As kids, we were inseparable, often spending long afternoons playing in the creek bed that twisted behind our houses. I feel a twinge in my chest as I think back to those simpler days.

“Look Osamu! There’s a frog over there.” Tamiko’s blonde pigtails bounced as she pointed in the direction of the bank where a large bullfrog sat. “I’ll catch it for you Tamiko.” I grinned a wide toothy smile at her then hopped across the trickle of water to the other side and scooped up the creature. “Ew it’s so ugly.” She giggled as I tried to hand it to her. I frowned. “Hey that’s not nice. It can’t help the way it looks.” I pouted. She smiled and placed a hand on my shoulder, “I’m sorry Osamu, I didn’t mean it.” She reached out her hands to take the frog from me. It let out a ribbit and she laughed again.

She was always laughing--the sound was like music and I smiled every time I heard it. I can’t pinpoint the exact moment when things changed between us. If I asked her to come over to my house to play a video game or watch a movie she would have some other plans. She always apologized and promised we would hang out, but those times were few and far between.

Too quickly she had grown up, and she wasn’t that little girl who enjoyed playing in the creek or catching frogs. She found new friends, girls that shared her hobbies and interests. She was never cruel, but she began to treat me more like an acquaintance, rather than a best friend. It didn’t help matters that last year she had to choose the most obnoxious asshole in our class to date. Despite all of that I still loved her.

“Do you want to lick the spoon?” Ikasu’s off-handed remark startles me. I shake the vision of the past away and come back to reality. (That’s right, our assignment today is to bake a Japanese swiss roll cake.) She asks again, moving the spoon toward me.

“Huh?” I exclaim as my eyes widen, shocked at her question. I feel my face heat up by ten degrees. She quirks her eyebrow and says, “Fine, I’ll do it then.” She puts the spoon, dripping with chocolate cake batter, in her mouth then smirks at me and winks. My heart is hammering against my rib cage. My throat feels dry as I gulp. (She’s toying with me, right?)

“Ms. Ikasu stop tonguing the utensils. That is extremely unhygienic.” Our teacher’s words interrupt my impending heart attack as she reprimands Tamiko. She replies with a simple, “But it was so tempting! Right, Hissori?” Her large violet eyes narrow in my direction.

“Um...y-yes.” I stutter the words like a drooling toddler. Ms. Yushi clicks her tongue. “Allowing your partner to defile our precious instruments of the culinary arts. I would have thought better of you Mr. Hissori. Regardless, it looks like your base is ready for the oven.”

My face turns red again and I bow quickly to hide it from Tamiko. “Yes ma’am!” When I reach for the cake pan I brush Tamiko’s fingers and feel a small jolt of electricity shoot through my nerve endings. The shock seizes my heart and my mind goes blank for a second. I fumble the pan, nearly dropping its contents on the floor. “Careful!” Tamiko grabs the pan and helps steady it.

“Sorry.” My voice pitches and she giggles at the crack.

“Here let me take it to the oven then I’ll start on the filling. Can you set the timer to thirteen minutes then take the mixing bowl to the sink?”

“Sure, yes, good idea,” I stammer as I hand the cake pan over then gather the dirty dishes as she instructed. I stare at the stark white wall in front of me as the basin fills with water, lost in anxious thought again. (Calm down Osamu. This isn’t some Otaku romance anime.) Suddenly I’m pulled from my delusions when Ms. Yushi shouts, “Mr. Hissori, don’t flood the classroom!”

“Oh, sorry!” I quickly turn off the tap, keeping the water level from rising to tsunami-like proportions. I slap my cheeks and shake my head, trying to dispel the rising heat that’s permeating every inch of my face. I exhale a self-deprecating chuckle, releasing some of the tension, and think, (yeah, if this were a teenage love drama, I would end up with the popular girl.) I gaze over my shoulder at Tamiko. For a split second we lock eyes as she’s beating the filling into submission and I feel my chest squeeze again. I quickly whip my head back around and place the bowl in the water to soak.

“Shove over Hissori. Dirty dishes coming through!” Ken Tsuyo drops a pile of pans and bowls into the sink, splashing me with soapy water. He scoffs, “Whoops! Sorry shorty. Didn’t mean to get you wet--that’s Tamiko’s job right?” He lifts a copper eyebrow at me, green eyes glint. “Oh wait, she doesn’t go for virgins. Sorry small fry. Better luck next time.” He places his hand on my head and ruffles my hair. I grit my teeth and clench my fists, but can’t bring myself to respond to his baiting.

“Ken, leave him alone. Are you trying to get into trouble?” Tamiko rolls her eyes as she walks toward us. (Is she coming to my rescue? How humiliating!) I feel the heat in my cheeks return. Ken turns away from me then leans against the counter and stuffs his hands into his pockets. He shrugs. “Whatever. Freak’s no fun to mess with anyway. Catch you after class babe.” He gives a dismissive wave as he leaves us. My body shakes and my nails dig into my palms as I mutter under my breath, “He’s such a jerk.”

“That’s not fair Hissori. You just don’t know him. He’s really nice when we’re alone.” Tamiko scolds me and I meekly rub my arm while I mumble, “Sure.” The timer goes off, interrupting the uncomfortable moment between us. Tamiko responds brightly, “Oh the cake’s done! I’ll go get it, finish up here okay?”

“You bet.” I muster a weak smile. After cleaning the bowls I head back over to our station; Tamiko is rolling out the chocolate base onto parchment paper. She looks up as I approach and that kind childhood smile appears on her face. “Hissori can you help spread the filling?” I nod and try to respond, but the words stick in my throat. My pulse quickens, but I inhale deeply to reset. “H-hey Tamiko…” Her shoulders stiffen at the use of her first name. “Why don’t you call me Osamu? We were best friends when we were little...” I fiddle with the hem of my shirt. “It would be okay with me.”

“Hissori.” She says abruptly, making me jump. She pauses for a moment, biting her lip. Her eyes dart back and forth, avoiding my gaze as she tries to come up with a reason. “Look, you’re a nice guy and everything, but I’m with Ken...so yeah...I think...let’s just stick to last names. If that’s alright?”

“Oh, sure.” I chuckle, attempting to cut through the tension in the air. “No problem. It was stupid for me to even bring it up. Let’s finish this cake okay? We need to roll it before the base cools.” I watch silently as Tamiko carefully rolls the cake into a log shape then I top it with a dusting of powdered sugar. (Stupid Osamu. Why did you push it?) I think as I shake the sifter gently over the pastry.

“What do you think?” Tamiko asks timidly after I set the sifter to the side. I focus my gaze on hers and her brow furrows with concern at my hesitation. “I-is it that bad?” she whispers.

Just as I’m about to reassure her, Ms. Yushi shows up to judge the finished product. She places her finger on her chin as she studies the cake. “Hmm I would say overall the presentation is correct. Now let’s see how it tastes.” Her dull brown eyes light up as she takes a bite. “This is delicious! I must say you two worked really well together on this assignment. An A for both of you.” She praises us then moves onto the next station.

I turn to Tamiko, who is wearing a satisfied grin, and say, “I guess we make a good team, yeah?” I’m caught completely off guard when Tamiko wraps her arms around my shoulders, embracing me in an unexpected hug. The sound of my heartbeat in my ears nearly drowns out her words. “Thank you Osamu!” However, she quickly regains her composure after she hears gasps and titters from our classmates and pulls away from me. She clears her throat. “I mean, thank you Hissori. This is the first A I’ve gotten in Home-Ec.”

“Yeah...you do tend to burn things.” I tease.

“Hey. That was one time!” She glares at me for only a moment then releases an enchanting giggle. “Fine, you’re not wrong. I’m a terrible cook. That curry last week was awful wasn’t it?”

I shrug. “No worries. Cooking isn’t for everyone, but maybe baking is more your calling.”

“You could be right.” Her smile fades as she pulls her eyes away from mine.

“What’s wrong?” I frown. (What happened? It was like old times for a minute there.)

“Hm? Oh, it’s nothing. Everything is fine." She looks up at the clock. "The bell is about to ring." She begins packing up her things then turns back to me. “I-I hope you have a good weekend...Osamu.” She bows then quickly rushes to meet Ken in the doorway, but not before glancing back and giving me a kind wave, her eyes light with that familiar twinkle and I feel warmth spread through my chest. A small grin tugs at the corner of my lip. I hitch my bag up on my shoulder and as I leave the classroom, for just a moment, I don’t feel the need to count the tiles.