“You know I can’t do that.”
My hand hits the table. “Then why are you asking me? Why did you even come here? Just to tell me you’re leaving?”
“Don’t be this way,” she says, somewhat tensely. “It’s not like I’m leaving you alone. You have plenty of people who care about you.”
“I don’t need anyone to care. There’s nothing wrong with me.”
“I didn’t say there was something wrong with you. But you can’t keep pushing everyone away.” She reaches for my hand, but I pull away.
That’s when I notice something strange. Right outside the window. White petals are falling from the sky like snow. I rubmy eyes, wondering if I’m imagining this. Then the piano music starts to play, filling the diner. But I can’t tell where it’s coming from.Does anyone else hear that?It feels like I’m losing my mind here.
“What is it?”
Jasmine’s voice pulls me back to the table. But I’m not sure what to tell her. I just shake my head and say, “It’s nothing.”
Jasmine squeezes my arm. “Maybe it’s time to go home,” she says.
But I’m not listening at this point. I can barely think straight. The room is spinning again. For some reason, the piano music keeps playing. Where the hell is that coming from? I swear it’s following me around. I rise abruptly from the table. “I’m sorry, I have to go—”
“What—Where are you going?”
But I don’t answer her. Instead I rush toward the entrance, hoping she doesn’t follow me outside. The moment I push through the door, the diner vanishes around me as I find myself on a moving train car. It’s as if I stepped into a dream or something. The floor rattles at my feet as I glance around, wondering what’s going on.
A door clicks shut from behind me. I turn around just in time to see someone moving into the next car. It’s the tousle of dark hair that makes me recognize him instantly.
“Haru?”
I’m not sure if I’m hallucinating. I follow him anyway and throw open the door, hoping to catch up in time. But the moment I reach the other side, he’s already moved to thenext car.“Haru, wait!”Why won’t he slow down for me? No matter how many times I call his name, Haru never glances behind him. But I keep running after him, moving from one car to the next. This train doesn’t seem to have an end in sight. It just keeps going and going. I’m scared I’ll never be able to reach him. He’s far too fast for me, slipping from my sight like mist.
“Come back!”
Then the train enters the tunnel, swallowing everything in darkness. That’s the last thing I remember.
Eighteen
I wake up in Jasmine’s room the next morning. The lightfrom the window makes me squint. I touch my left temple, feeling an ache from the night before. How long have I been lying in bed? And where’s my phone? I push myself up and look around the room. I must have wandered in here by mistake. There’s something folded on the end of the bed. It’s the jacket Jasmine borrowed from me. I stare at it for a moment. She must have returned it after bringing me home last night.
I don’t remember what happened after leaving the diner. There’s a slight pain in my left side, making it hard to sit up. Maybe I tripped on something and knocked myself out. That wouldn’t be the first time that happened. I think back to my conversation with Jasmine. Wasn’t her flight leaving today? Maybe that means she’s already gone. I run my hand over the jacket and glance around the room. A bar of sunlight shines on her piano. If I close my eyes, I can see her sitting at the bench, playing one of her songs. But it’s only me in here.
The house is empty this morning. No television on in the living room, no one washing dishes in the kitchen. Then I remember my dream of Haru.Maybe he left something here for me.But there’s nothing waiting for me at my desk. I wishI hadn’t treated him the way I did last night. Especially when he was only trying to help me.
I stare at the paper star at the window. The one he made me a while ago. There are so many things I wish I could say to him. Hopefully I’ll see him again soon. But Haru doesn’t show up tonight. He doesn’t come back the next day, either. Or the day after that. But I keep on waiting for him.
The next few weeks move byslowly. I go to work and back home and the day starts over again. I try to keep myself busy, working on college applications, watching movies on my phone until I fall asleep. It’s been raining a lot lately. I always look to see if Haru is waiting across the street after work but he’s never there. There’s no folded paper waiting on my desk when I get home. I go to bed alone and wake up with no one beside me.
Sometimes I go looking for him. I head to Millennium Park and walk around the Bean at night. When it’s pouring, I bring an umbrella and hope I find him sitting on one of the benches. Maybe if I wait long enough, he’ll show up again. We can grab deep-dish pizza at Lou Malnati’s. But the days keep passing with no sign of him anywhere. Every couple days, I go to the same café and sit at the same table where he first found me. But Haru never comes through the door. No matter how long I stay there.
What if I never see him again? I think back to the gallery opening, when we were sitting together at the piano. I should never have left him there. If I knew our time would be this short, I would have spent every second with him, memorizingthe lines around his mouth when he smiles, or how his hair falls across his eyes when he’s playing the piano.
I blocked Christian’s number a few days ago. Not that I was expecting to hear from him again. I finally returned all the clothes I bought to impress him. I don’t know what I was thinking pretending to be someone else. No matter how much I try to be one of them, I’ll always be an outsider looking in.
Things felt easy when I was with Haru. I didn’t need to change myself around him. I look down at the red bracelet we got together in Japan. I still wear it every day. He’s never disappeared for this long before. A part of me wonders if he was ever here at all. Then I touch the paper flower I keep with me, reminding myself it was real. I just thought we had more time together.Where did you go this time? Will I ever see you again?
There’s a stationery store near the theater. I stumbled upon it on my way home a few days ago. It’s always closed by the time I get out of work. Sometimes I like to stop and look through the window. Everything inside reminds me of Haru. “My family owns a shop like this in Osaka,” he once told me. “You don’t find a lot of them around anymore. I always make sure to buy something, even if it’s just a piece of paper.”
Another memory comes to me.Haru holds his hand out at the train station; the piece of paper flutters between his fingers. “I wanted to give you this before you left,” he says quickly. “So we can stay connected.” Then the breeze picks up, pulling the paper into the air as the doors close between us.
I wonder where I would be now if it never flew out of my hands. Maybe it’s still floating around somewhere, waiting for me to catch it. As I think about what he might have written, an idea comes to me. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. The next morning, I return to the stationery store before work and buy some paper. At lunch, I find a pen and sit at the counter. Maybe it’s my turn to leave a note.
