Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 71595 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71595 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
But that was then.
Now, hot boys are my greatest fear. They remind me too much of the boy who broke my heart, and oh, believe me, he was – is – the hottest of them all. And the cruelest. It’s made me so paranoid I tend to freeze up when I see a hot boy in my midst. The only ones I’m comfortable speaking to are the ones going out with my friends. But other than that, it’s just pure torture, which is why I’m kicking my head in the right now.
My 10AM class for today is Mecha or robot anime. Mecha to boys is what chick lit is to girls, so you’d think I’d have assumed that majority of the class would be boys. It should’ve been a no-brainer.
But it’s not, so now I’m pacing outside the classroom, desperately searching for the guts to open the door.
“Nosebleed Girl?”
Riiiiiight.
Have I mentioned that I’ve acquired a nickname in the last 24 hours?
I whirl around just in time to see a tall, dark-haired guy coming up to me. He has a piercing on his left ear and what seems like a dragon tattoo snaking around his left arm. When he reaches me, he has the most ferocious scowl on his handsome face, and his voice is deep and scary when he asks in Japanese, “It’s you, right?”
Gulping, I say, “H-hai.” First X, and now this stranger who looks like he beats up people for a living. Why do all Japanese guys seem angry at me for no reason?
“You’re in Mecha, too?”
Oh, worse and worse. If there’s more like him in my next class, I think it’s best if I just drop Mecha and ask for another elective—-
“I’m Seiji, by the way,” he says gruffly. “My girlfriend Momo says you’re in one of her classes.”
Girlfriend. Seiji has a girlfriend, and as this dawns on me, I start to relax. This Seiji can’t be so bad if he has a girlfriend with a cute name like Momo, right?
Looking up, I say uncertainly, “I don’t think I’ve met her yet.”
“You haven’t.”
Then...how does Momo know that I’m in her class? I consider asking Seiji but when he starts to scowl again, I decide against it. I kind of like having my head attached to my neck, so you know what? If Seiji says it is, then it must be so.
The second warning bell rings then, and Seiji opens the door. When he sees me hesitating behind him, he raises a brow, asking, “You coming?”
“Umm...”
After a beat, he says gruffly, “There’s nothing to worry about. Everyone here’s cool.”
And so they are.
Even though the boys-to-girls ratio in our class turns out to be 29:1 literally and it’s my worst-case scenario come to life, I somehow manage to survive 90 minutes in their company. For the most part, it’s all thanks to Seiji. As soon as we enter the class, he declares that I am his and Momo’s “imouto” or ‘little sister’ and so anyone who messes with me will be messing with him and his girlfriend. I’m not sure why, but it’s like the boys are more afraid of the threat of Momo going after them than Seiji. It’s weird but cute, and so when Seiji asks if I want to join him and his girlfriend for an early lunch, I eagerly say yes.
The cafeteria in our building is on the fourth floor, and the surrounding panoramic windows give us a nice little view of Shinjuku beyond the walls of Tsubaki. We part ways to buy our own food and when I return to our table with my bowl of ramen, a girl is already seated next to Seiji.
She’s a black-haired beauty, with big dark eyes framed by the longest lashes, pink rosebud lips, and alabaster skin. She’s also wearing a silk kimono to school, and when she sees me frozen next to her table, she immediately and gracefully rises to her feet.
A split second later, I see a flash of silk—-
Momo kicking her boyfriend under the table—-
And then Seiji winces just before coming to his feet as well. “Dammit, Momo.” He gestures to me, saying with a grunt, “Nosebleed Girl, meet my girlfriend Momo. Momo, Nosebleed—-”
Another flash of kimono, the silk of her sleeve dancing in the air, and when I see Seiji wince again, I realize she’s just elbowed him.
“Momo, this is Katerina Chariot.”
“Thank you for the introduction, Seiji.” Momo’s tone is extra sweet. I’m guessing it’s a non-verbal promise there’d be more flashes of silk when they’re alone, and I’m beginning to understand why those boys in our Mecha class are afraid of Seiji’s girlfriend.
When we take our seats, I don’t even have a second to feel uncomfortable. Momo’s gone out of her way to make me feel welcome, and when lunch is over, it’s like we’ve known each other for years. As Seiji walks us to our next class, which turns out to be the one I’m sharing with Momo, I ask her how she knows I’ll be in it.