Kiara and Diane both stare at me like I’m insane. I don’t blame them.
“Okay, so let me get this straight,” Kiara begins, her hands flying around in frantic motions, “You’re going to pretend to date this Marlon guy, which is the one you were ranting to us about last week, who you absolutely hate?”
“Yes,” I say quickly, “And we’re gonna stage a break up. This is the only way I’ll be able to finally stop our parents from trying to set us up, and be able to date other people in peace. The only way I’ll be able to pursue Rafayel in peace.”
“This is so cliche,” Diane murmurs, shaking her head, “I don’t know if it’ll work.”
“And you’re sure this’ll work?” Kiara asks, still sceptical.
“It sounds so high school,” Diane chimes in, “Why don’t you just tell your parents straight out you despise the dude? You’re 18, turning 19 soon for crying out loud, an adult.”
Diane makes it sound all so easy. If only itwere.
I’ve never been one to actively argue with my parents. I don’t bode well with confrontation, usually opting to ignore the problem until it went away. Or, in this case, design an elaborate ruse.
“It’s not that simple,” I murmur, and my cheeks flood with embarrassment. I pick at my pancit with my fork, prodding thenoodles. Diane reaches out her hand and brushes my knuckles softly.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound harsh. I just wish it was easier for you, that’s all.”
“But hey, this could actually be fun. Maybe Marlon isn’t so bad after all and you become friends with the guy,” Kiara interjects.
I nearly choke at her words.
“Uh, definitely not.”
Marlon and I could become civil, yes, but never proper friends. I’m certain of it.
“You’re late.”
Marlon’s leaning against the wall, just beside the entrance to Katsu Kitchen, tapping against his wrist once I approach him.
He’s wearing a ridiculous Super Mario Bros shirt. Actually, the shirt isn’t that ridiculous. I enjoy Super Mario. I just don’t like Marlon.
“I’moneminute late.”
He sighs dramatically, clutching his heart.
“And now you’re hurting me.”
I land a light punch on his arm and his face twists in surprise, leaving me satisfied.
“Always been the rough one, haven’t you?” he murmurs, “If you were one minute later, we wouldn’t be able to get a seat at all.”
A waiter emerges from the entrance, motioning us to follow him, and as we step through the doorway, we’re greeted with mostly unoccupied tables.
I raise a brow at Marlon.
“You were saying?”
Marlon ignores me, following after the waiter as he leads us to a table next to a window, informing us to come to the counter to order when ready. Immediately, we scour the menu.
Ramen, karaage,and of course, the titular katsu dishes all jump out of me. On cue, my stomach writhes. I glance up from my menu, observing how Marlon flicks through it more casually than me.
“Careful, Garcia, the food you can order is on the paper, not me.”
I grimace, tearing my eyes away.
“You’re disgusting Marlon.”
