That knucklehead! Hiding behind the bush like a scaredy-cat, then strutting around like he owns the place the moment I show up. I can’t believe I just had to run into that ridiculous joker. Taking a swig of the cold water, I glance out the window. He’s about to dash into the convenience store where I’m standing. He opened the door, and I ducked behind a snack rack. Not that I’m hiding from him or anything. I stand up straight again.

Leaning ever so slightly against the rack so it doesn't topple over, I watch as he scratches his neck, his eyes darting around. Deciding between spaghetti and macaroni. I wonder how long his poor mom has been boiling water on the stove. She’s probably resigned herself to a night without him.

I lift my eyes off him and sneak a peek at the cashier. No wonder I felt that piercing gaze. He’s leaning on the counter, shamelessly staring. Gulping I duck my head once more. I feel as if I have been caught. Skating at night is normal. But I feel like… he saw me naked? Huh? Yeah! L-Like I have been discovered and now everything’s over! Over for me. No one else was aware of it! Chewing my lip I glare at him. My nostrils flaring. If only I didn’t go into that alley tonight! No one would have ever known then–

“Just go with the spaghetti, dude,” the cashier says in a greasy voice.

“Huh?” He throws his head back a little, looking at the packet with the long, clear sticks. Can he honestly not tell the difference between spaghetti and macaroni? My eyebrows knit unconsciously at the unbearable sight of him grinning as he clutches the packet and puts the other one back. Humming, he turns and struts to the soda machine in his orange pajamas and flip-flops. How have I never run into him before if he lives just around the corner?

Reaching the machine, he stops and spins around. “Tamasha! Coca-Cola or Pepsi?”

I jerk and hit the skateboard in my stomach. What the heck? I was hiding. Dashing over as the cashier eyes me, I reach him and hiss, “You are so loud! Be a little—”

“Huh? Why, Tamana?” he stares at me and I almost kick him again.

Gulping, I regret waiting for him in the first place. He runs a hand through his cocoa-brown hair and shrugs, asking me for an answer. “It’s not Tamasha or Tamana but Tanaka!!” tapping my fingers on my board “And none! I don’t like fizzy drinks.”

“Huh? You’re boring” he pouts and adds, “...okay.”

After getting a discount he places the eggs atop the floor, spaghetti, and other things. I close my slightly parted lips. So he has this much sense at least. Standing I stare at him, pack all his stuff peacefully as he hums. Hums. not laughs. Yells or guffaws.  Is he always like this without another knucklehead?

 We both walk out of the store together. Realizing the situation, I halt so he can go ahead. How did I end up walking with him?

“Is your phone charged? I forgot to charge mine at the store,” he asks coming to a halt just beside me. 

I roll my eyes, “Yeah, it’s charged. I’m not as forgetful as you”

“Okay. good.” Rolling his eyes he remarks.

My eyes linger on him as he walks some distance away from me and keeps glancing sideways. He turns his neck to check behind again. The corners of my lips curl up. Slowly walking I veered closer to him. He stopped glancing sideways.

“Oh,” looking at me he comments giving me a sad smile “You must be scared walking around at night”. Glaring I find he’s pupil jumping here and there. Behind me. Sideways. I gulp my scoff and step on the tiny rock lying on the road.

crackhead.

“Yes. very” I go along. Somewhat wanting to linger around I continue my way down the same way. 

I drop Xion off in front of his apartment and say goodbye. “Just don’t end up dead. Have the other one accompany you next time”. 

He looks at me quizzically and asks, "Are you free?"

"Huh? What?" I ask, confused.

"Never mind," he quickly adds, and I turn to leave but a hunger pang echoes in the silence of the night and later I find myself invited inside. 

A big chamber-like room with a big round bed. A study corner. I had no idea that he studies. A kitchen on the side. And another door. Simple. cozy.

“Imma try some new recipe” he warms me beforehand. 

I raise my hands in surrender as I drop on the couch. "Fine, fine. Just don't rat poison me." raising my voice "You may commence now," I declare, attempting to sound authoritative. 

Sitting on his comfy orange-shaded couch I watch him strut to his home. I haven’t ever talked to him in school before, Although I have had urges to hit him before a lot. It’s bizarre. So bizarre. Talking to him. Seeing him out of school and being inside his place. He is just plain weird and him having me see me skate! For no reason, I feel this intense urge that I am a spy here on a mission to kill him discretely for he knows a lot. I live here. I skate. And that it’s I! 

he mutters something, dropping the bag of ingredients onto the counter. He drops them. Half the things are already on the floor. I rush over to save the sole egg that survived. It’s spinning around the very edge, and Xion’s just standing there, looking bewildered.

stretching my hand to save it I hope, but it slips through my fingers, and although he could have easily saved it, he doesn’t.

"Seriously? What's wrong with you?” I end up snapping. He wasted everything.

"What does it matter? Everything else has already been wasted, and I don’t feel like cooking anymore!"

Seeing the sight of everything on the ground and wasted, I almost snap again but then he looks as if his cat just died. His head lowered. Eyes fixated on the floor. "Not the time to whine. I am hungry. You said you would make me food."

"Nah, I'll pass," he says, stirring up my hitt-him-urge.

 I order “Let’s just clean” beginning to clean the mess I tell him. Waiping a tissue on the floor I look at him again. What the-pouting? Eyebrows quivering? “Are you seriously gonna cry?” 

"What? Do you think—" he instantly fires back.

"You can just sit back," I tell him dusting my hands.

"Are you gonna cook for me?" he asks, thrilled.

I stare at him and blink for a moment too long. Did that kick get to his head?

I don’t clean either and we both sit on the couch and watch TV awkwardly.

"Oh, come on, I'll pay, but you just have to call," I tell him, annoyed.

"Huh? Weren't you going to pay earlier?" he asks, surprised.

"Huh? No. I mean, yes, but I am not gonna call."

"Ah, right," he sighs.

"Why aren’t you calling?" I inquire when he just sits there.

"I did already," he tells me.

Am I going deaf? How come I didn't hear him?

Sirens blast in the room, and we both flail our arms, almost poking each other's eyes out. He runs across the room and picks up his phone from under the pillow. 

“Nobody puts such music as a ringtone. By the way, where is the other piece?”

“Other piece?…oh! He’s out doing some stuff” he replies

“Stuff?”

He puts a finger on his lips. “Shh. we don’t talk about it so loud”

Frowning I sigh “Are you always this high?”

“Always” he winks. 

“I wanna hurt you so bad” I chose to speak facts.

“You better not cause I stan equality” he replies too interested in the phone. 

I snort. idiot. “Wooh. my bad bro. Not gonna pick a fight with you”

seeing the screen, he freezes for a moment, and his eyes and face light up, but he doesn’t utter a single word. Nor do I ask.

The delivery guy drops off the order, and I go to the door to fetch it because he is preoccupied with his phone. From what it appears to me, he’s in a trance with a smile stretching wildly to his ears. After savoring a big bite, I filled my heart's content and asked him, "Are you seriously not gonna tell me?" He doesn’t look at me and keeps on scrolling. I throw his burger at him, and when it hits him in the face, I say, "Catch."

He jerks his face up instantaneously, and after collecting the spare parts of his burger, he considers.

"Em’ bored," I replied, chewing the meat.

"You cool with some drama?" he asks, grinning wildly, looking just like Leon.

I nod and sit next to him, munching. After taking a long breath, he shows me the screen.

"You see this!" he shrieks. "And this and this!" he shrieks with excitement and scrolls through the messages.

"That ain’t drama. That's cringe," I admit.

"Aw, don’t be so rude," he pouts.

We both giggle, disgusted and embarrassed whenever someone compliments him or states the reason why they like him. At one point, we almost choke on our burgers. Laughing, I smack him hard at one comment because it said, "You look really smart."

When we are done going through all of them and replying to every single one, I am bent over because my ribs ache from laughing and Xion's barfing.

"Shit! What time is it?" I ask.

Panicked, he checks his phone and then yells, "Two a.m."

I messed up. 

"You probably won’t see me again. Any last words?" I ask him, and although my laces aren’t getting tied, I am laughing and not throwing a fit.

"Catch," and with that, he throws what he pulled out of his jersey.

I caught. Chocolate.

“Bought it from the store instead 'cause you said you don’t like fizzy drinks," he explains.

I open my mouth to speak, but he yells, "Give it back if you’re gonna say you like black chocolate and not this!"

“Aren’t you giving it a little early? That’s what I was gonna say, you knucklehead, and black chocolate makes me wanna throw up," I tell him, annoyed as I swing out of the door.

“Same, dude,” grinning he says.

“Not your dude” Putting the chocolate in my pocket, I tell him to lock the door and leave.