Page 14 of Who Said Mobsters Were Scary?
“Nice to meet you, too! I’m doing an English and Business degree and just came back from…”
I nod, trying and failing to listen to what Nobu is saying. Okay, I know I decided I’m over Club Guy, but who is he? And even if there is zero reason for us to meet again, I’m pretty sure I saved his life that night. So the least he could do is have some manners and thank me, right?
Nodding to myself, I decide that’s what is making me so hung up on him. He didn’t thank me when he should have.
“Leo, having fun?” Naomi appears from somewhere, draping an arm over my shoulder. “Don’t pig out too much. I think the guys want to go to an izakaya.”
I blanch at her, scanning the room for Nobu.Shit. Where did he go? I got so caught up in my head, I’ve no idea when he left or what we were even talking about. Oh well. There are plenty more friends to make around here.
“Anizakaya?” I toss at Naomi, shooing a curl of her dark hair that’s tickling my cheek.
“Yep. It’s like a pub. We go there, drink our asses off, have some dinner, then carry on at some bar,” she elaborates, flashing me a teasing smile. “I hope this time we stay for the fun part.”
Oh right, it’s Friday today, which means party night. Tomorrow marks a full week since my encounter with the mysterious guy at the club. A thrill passes through me, making me shiver. Here I go again, thinking about him. I swear I’ve never been so hung up on someone, especially another dude like me.
“So, you coming or nah?”
“Sure,” I say kind of flatly.What are the chances of running into him there?
One in a million, I bet.There are probably hundreds of izakayas and he seemed like the type who’d go for the extra fancy extra expensive extra special type.
“Oh boy, I love the enthusiasm.” Freya, the French girl with the waist-long blue hair and the pointy nails swats me on the arm. She’s in the same language group as Naomi and I, so we kind of got friendly.
Naomi waves the comment off. “That’s called being a bit socially awkward, Frey. Don’t mind him. He’s a real party animal when he gets tipsy.”
For the record, she’s not wrong about that, even if she’s never seen me tipsy. But she’s completely off the mark about my social awkwardness. I’m nothing if not the center of attention wherever I go, making people fawn over me left and right. It’s just that I’m a little off my game lately because my brain is too busy obsessing over a stranger I’m definitely not seeing again.
Chapter 8
We head to FujigaokaStation after some more mingling where I showcase to both Naomi and Freya my amazing social skills. A group of Japanese students volunteer to join us on our izakaya adventure. I recognize two of them from the fair; they are both part of the Aikido club.
“I’ve never been to an izakaya,” I say, taking in the wooden interior and the tatami mats as the staff lead us to a semi-private room.
There are no chairs, just cushions on the floor and a low table. Half of us sit here and the other half are in the room next to ours.
“I’ve been once. There are a couple of Japanese places near where I live,” Naomi says, plopping on the pillow to my left. Chris sits next to her, while Taka, one of the Aikido guys, sits on my right.
We order a bunch of starters and alcohol. I’m not that big of a drinker or in a rush to get a buzz, so I take my time. The food is more interesting to me as I haven’t really tried anything other than curry and sushi back home.The fried chicken is probably my favorite, with the fried dumplings coming up in second place.
“I need a smoke. Anyone coming?” Taka stands up, fishing out his cigarettes.
I volunteer, wanting some air. Naomi joins too and so do a few people from the room next door. There is a designated smoking area on the side of the building, so we head over there. As they get on with it, I am once again reminded of the guy from the club. If I’m not wrong, the pack he pulled out of his pocket was white with green and gray letters. None of the people smoke that brand. Suddenly curious, I decide to check out the convenience store across the street.
Before I get to do that though, I’m herded back inside for drink rounds three and four. We end up at a club next to the park just off the station. It’s fun, and a few ladies catch my eye, but somehow I’m not really feeling it tonight. I’m down for a hookup, but whenever I convince myself to walk over to some cute girl and charm her panties off, the face of Club Guy pops in my head, ruining my debaucherous intentions.
His lopsided smile and his damn dimples are honestly haunting me. He’s handsome. Objectively and subjectively. On the sexy side like me, I’d say, though I’m sure he could pull off the cute-handsome angle since he’s Asian and has that K-pop star vibe.
“Hi. I’m Kaori,” someone says in a high-pitched voice when the music pauses, and the DJ announces something in Japanese.
I’m greeted with a lovely smile when I turn around as two girls in short dresses and fluffy cardigans join me at the bar.
“This is Saki. What’s your name?” Kaori, who’s the taller one and looks like a doll, asks while pointing at the second girl. She’s shorter and 100% my type with her plump lips, big eyes and dark hair styled in waves.
“I’m Leo. Nice to meet you.”
“Hi Leo,” they say together, struggling a bit to pronounce the L.
I didn’t know this before coming here, but the letter and sound L don’t exist in Japanese. I think there are a couple more, but I only remember this one since it’s the first letter of my name.
