“I wouldn’t get caught. I’ve been binge watching cop shows with my dad—there are ways.”
I shake my head. “It’s not the worst.” I think about what Mom said. “It’s probably not even that big of a deal. Maybe I just wanted my mom to care more than she did.”
He’s quiet, waiting for me to continue.
The sand is so warm beneath me, and the ocean and salt spray and plum-colored breeze is so calming, that I tell him the story about my uncle. I tell him everything.
“When I was seven, I woke up to my uncle sitting at the bottom of my bed in the middle of the night. He had his hand around my ankle and—I don’t know—I guess he was massaging my leg and foot or something, I don’t really know. But the whole bed was shaking. I remember opening my eyes and seeing my stuffed rabbit next to me, and her ears were flopping up and down like someone was bouncing on the mattress. He was making these noises.” My face turns red, but I keep going. “They sounded like he was groaning. I was so embarrassed and confused; I closed my eyes and pretended I was still asleep so he wouldn’t know that I had heard him. After a while—I don’t know how long because at the time it felt like hours—he stood up, watched me for a while—I could still hear him breathing next to me—and left.”
If a meteor crashed into the ocean and caused a tsunami, I don’t think either of us would even notice. We’re too still, too silent.
“It happened a few times. I can’t remember how many. I always pretended to be asleep.” I meet Jamie’s eyes. “That’s all. That’s the whole story.”
He stares back at me. I can’t tell if it’s confusion plastered all over his face or something else. He’s so quiet. And still.
“It’s not that big of a deal, I guess,” I say automatically. I don’t know why it comes out of my mouth. I just feel an overpowering need to ease Jamie’s discomfort, whatever it is.
“Not that big of a deal?” he repeats in alarm. “Your uncle groped your leg while you were asleep. While he . . . jerked himself off. That’s fucking terrible.”
The word startles me. I’ve never heard Jamie swear before. I’ve never seen him look so angry either.
I’ve also never heard what happened to me come out of someone else’s mouth. It sounds so blunt. So black-and-white.
“And you told your mom? And she didn’t call the cops or anything?”
I shake my head. “It took me a while to tell her. A few months, maybe. I can’t remember for sure. She didn’t really say anything at first. She kind of thought about it by herself, I guess. But afterward she told me that she thinks all boys are perverts. And after that she never talked about it again.”
“Oh my God,” Jamie says stiffly. His jaw is clenched.
I shrug. “I don’t know if she could have called the cops anyway. I mean, I don’t know if what he did even means anything. If it even has a name.”
“Are you kidding? That’s sexual abuse.” He pauses. “Or something. I don’t know what you’d call it either, I guess. But it’s wrong. And you shouldn’t sugarcoat it just because your mom thinks you should.”
I flinch. “I’m not sugarcoating it,” I say quietly. “I don’t like talking about it.”
His face softens. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say it like that. It’s messed up that it happened to you, and that your mom—” He pauses, shaking his head again. “I’m just sorry.”
He reaches his hand out to touch my wrist, and my skin comes alive.
I place my hand over his. “You don’t owe me an apology. But thanks for listening. It’s kind of weird saying that story out loud.”
“You can tell me anything, you know.”
“Yes. I know.”
? ? ?
I draw an infinity symbol in the sand. Jamie says that’s how long he wants to kiss me for.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
Jamie and I kiss a lot. Like, a lot a lot. His parents catch us a few times on the balcony, but they never say anything. They pretend it’s completely normal.
It feels completely normal.
I was wrong before about the hugging and the puzzle pieces. This is the last puzzle piece—kissing Jamie makes my life feel whole.
Hiroshi invites us both to dinner. He and Mayumi are throwing a going-away party for Akane before she heads off to university.
We show up to a restaurant that is so close to the ocean that when I look out the window it feels like I’m going to fall onto the sand.
The whole restaurant is rented out for the party, and almost every person in the room is a relative of the Matsumoto family. When Akane sees us, she gives us both a quick hug. She’s wearing a yellow sleeveless pantsuit with flowers winding up one of the legs. Around her neck is a white choker with a silver charm hanging from the middle.
“Thanks so much for coming,” she says. “Dad’s back in the kitchen, hovering.”
Rei falls into the empty space next to her, raising her perfect eyebrows in two arches. “Well, it’s about time.” She tilts her nose toward our hands, comfortably clasped together and not wanting to let go.
I bite my lip to keep from smiling too wide.
Jamie beams. “You’re telling me.”
We laugh, and it feels so easy and euphoric and pure that I want to bounce off the walls like my entire body is made of springs.
Mayumi is perched next to one of the windows. When she sees us, she waves her hands frantically, motioning for us to come closer.
At the center of a small table is a wooden post at least two feet high with strings dangling from the top like a tree. Most of the strings are threaded through long rows of paper cranes, all different colors and hiding their own secret messages.
Mayumi pulls me toward her, handing me a black pen. “You have to make wish. Origami Wishing Tree is Matsumoto tradition.”
“What do I do?” I ask, mesmerized by the dangling birds.
She hands Jamie a pen too, and points to the table. A mess of colorful bits of paper sits directly below the tree. “You write wish and hang from tree.” She smiles. “You hear of Japanese legend, ‘Thousand Origami Cranes’?” When we shake our heads, she continues. “It’s good luck. Fold one thousand origami cranes and wish come true. But”—she chuckles—“we never reach one thousand. Our tradition is different. Everyone gets to make wish.”
I look at Jamie, but he’s already busy writing his wish down, covering his paper with a cupped hand and making a goofy face at me when he catches me looking.
It doesn’t take me long to think of something to write. I wish I can be this happy for the rest of my life. When I’m finished, I press the paper to my chest, just to make sure Jamie doesn’t peek.
Mayumi shows us how to fold them. I make a mistake and mine ends up with a slight bend in the wing. Jamie notices and bends his wing on purpose. He says it’s so ours can match.
We string them onto the tree, our blue and orange birds, and Jamie kisses me on the side of the head.