SOCIALLY AWKWARD

05. Anticipation

Having long forgotten what had made her so fixated on Kenma in the first place or her crush on Nekoma's libero, all that seemed to consume Ameri's thoughts as of late was its setter.

She had lived long enough and possessed enough self-awareness as to make her not oblivious to her own feelings; and, after nights of smiling at his terse text replies, mornings of standing long before the mirror to look prettier, and days spent by his side in pure delight, she could now confidently admit to herself that she liked Kenma—more than just as a friend.

It was a conclusion that she, now that she had come to it, was amazed that it had taken her so long to realize. Perhaps it was the irony of her wanting to sweep the socially awkward boy off his feet only to be the one swept that had prevented her from deducing it, but none of that mattered now. Luckily for her, it wasn't in her character to overthink, dwell on the past, worry about the future, or tire her brain with what-ifs, and all Ameri could think of now was how she would confess.

Sprawled on her bed, she tossed and turned, undecided about how to start her love letter while her best friend, Misaki, sat on the floor and kept her eyes trained on the pages of her book.

Another groan—the twenty-fourth of this evening, Misaki counted—escaped Ameri.

"Why don't you just tell him directly? You're glued to him all the time."

"I can't." Ameri buried her face in her pillow and squealed. "I'm too shy."

"You're the last person on this earth to talk about shyness."

"I know," Ameri drawled as she rolled to lie on her back, whispering, "but with him, it's different."

Misaki lifted her gaze to her with a look of surprise. When Ameri had called her for urgent business earlier that day, she hadn't thought anything of it. Admittedly, the object of interest was not the same as the previous times, but, knowing her friend, she surmised that the rest would be the usual.

Only, this time, it was different. Ameri was confident to a fault. To the point where it made her blind and unmindful of the reality around her at times, and bashfulness or reluctance were never in her vocabulary. Seeing her display both traits now astounded and concerned Misaki.

"Then at least send him a text," she advised, now sincerely invested. "Letters are outdated and haven't worked with Yaku-san so far; they sure as hell won't with Kenma of all people."

"I've written tons to a guy who never gave me the time of day, and you expect me to text the one whom I actually have a shot with? No way! Plus, letters are more romantic. Have you learned nothing from all the novels you read?"

"Times have changed, dumbass."

"But true romance hasn't."

"Listen, Meri, I'm not trying to be a wet blanket. But you know him; he wouldn't know what to do, and a letter may only make things more awkward. At least if you're there, you'll see his reaction first hand and know what to make of it."

Ameri pondered her friend's words for a moment. "Maybe you're right. He's smart and all but certainly not the brightest in this stuff. I mean, we've been hanging out for months and he hasn't given me the slightest hint."

"Did it ever occur to you that he's simply not—"

"Okay, but I can't do it at school!" Ameri sprung to her feet and dashed to her closet. "I need a romantic setting and a very cute outfit."

Misaki sighed.

"Maybe that was the issue with Yaku-san. He'd only ever seen me at school in my uniform."

"Yes, sure, Meri, the issue was the setting and your uniform, not the fact that he simply wasn't interested, and your head is so up your ass you can't even take a hint."

"Ugh, whatever." Ameri flailed her arms around, not wanting to be reminded of her dark past. "His days are over."

When Ameri at last settled on an outfit she was satisfied with, she demanded Misaki's undivided attention for the planning part.

After ensuring that Kenma was free, checking the weather, the fare, and her savings, train tickets were purchased, and a date was arranged for next Saturday. They were to meet at the train station and set off to the beach together, and Ameri, still partial to her old, dreamy ways, chose to ask Kenma out through a hand-written invitation.

The next few days were some of the most agonizingly slow Ameri had ever had to power through in her life. Having to master her excitement while around Kenma was torture, and when Friday finally rolled around, she slyly slipped the envelope into his bag before he left for his training, and they parted for the weekend.

The anticipation made that night breeze by, and come Saturday morning, she was all dressed up and waiting outside the train station—for the first time in her life, feeling nervousness bubbling in the pit of her stomach.