Page 4 of Just Try, Again and Again

Not a date, just a thank you. And yes.

Bryce

Not a date. Got it :) Let’s both take a nap first and I’ll pick you up around 11? Sound good?

See you later :)

I chuckthe contents of my top-loader travel backpack on the floor. Everything looks crumpled. It’s my fault for putting everything in there at the last minute, I guess. With how I flip-flopped around the decision to leave Japan, I wasn’t sure whether it was really going to happen or not until the week before my flight left for John F. Kennedy International Airport. So, when I needed to pack, I didn’t have time on my side.

Going through the pile, I find a dress I like that doesn’t look like it has been stuffed in a trekking backpack for the last five days. I go out of my room and ask Suzie, the owner of the house she calls a bed and breakfast, for an ironing board and an iron. I still have thirty more minutes before I’m picked up.If I rush this, I should be able to make it in time.

Suzie knocks on my door at eleven on the dot, telling me I have someone waiting for me outside. Bryce stands tall wearing khaki shorts and an olive-green shirt, the color combination complimenting his naturally tanned skin. His mouth hooks into a smile when he sees me.

“I brought my car here, but I thought we could just walk to the coffee place. This area is pretty close to the center. What do you think?” he asks.

“Yeah, no problem. That’s why I picked this place, anyway, because of how central it is. I’m trying to save by not having to rent a car. I’m trying to stretch my money.”

“Alright then, let’s go,” he says. He motions with his hand for me to follow him before he starts speaking again. “I just realized I don’t know anything about you aside from the fact that you like to take pictures and that you’re trying to stretch your money during this trip.”

“What do you want to know? And remember, this is not a date. You don’t actually have to get to know me.”

Bryce chuckles, his fingers scratching the back of his head. He looks at me with a playful smirk on his face that sends butterflies to my stomach. “Relax, Haruki. It’s called being friendly.” My face burns as the embarrassment kicks in, but thankfully, Bryce pretends not to notice. “So, anyway, how long are you in town for? I saw on your passport this morning that you’re eighteen, just like me. Is this a graduation trip?”

“Kind of. I’m taking a gap year to travel. As for how long I’m in town, I’m not sure yet. I just landed in New York last week. I’m taking it day by day.” By now, I have told my reason for coming to America often enough to other fellow travelers that the lie just rolls off my tongue.

His eyes widen at the mention of New York. “You just came herea week agoand chose to leave New York and come to Elsham Cove?” he asks in a doubtful tone. “Elsham fucking Cove. Why would you even come here when you could be visiting other places? This town is a tourist destination, but not aninternationaltourist destination. Or does your American side of the family live here?”

“Osaka, the city where I come from, is also chaotic and full of people. Similar to New York.” I shrug. “I wanted to see something else. Something different. The girl from my hostel there told me she went to the coastal towns near Radinger and really liked it.”

I thought I was able to dodge the last question that Bryce threw at me, but then he asks again. “And your family? Where do they live?”

Family.“No family here. They’re all in Osaka. I’m just here to travel. Japanese children who have multiple nationalities have to pick one by the time they are twenty. So I’m here to make use of my American passport before I give it up. See the pretty towns and visit the cool cities.”

For a moment, it seems like Bryce is about to ask me to elaborate further, but thank God we are finally at the coffee shop. He pushes open the big glass door and holds it for me. I quickly join the queue, and as we wait in line, he continues with his game of questions. “And how do you like it here so far? Do we live up to your standards of pretty towns?”

“The sunrise is pretty, but the locals are a bit creepy,” I tease with a smirk on my face.

He is about to say his comeback, but by now we are already at the front of the line. We both give the barista our orders, a latte macchiato for me and an iced coffee for him, before taking the two drinks and finding a place to sit. He doesn’t let me pay.

“You know plenty about me now. What about you? You’re also eighteen, that means you also just finished high school. What’s your plan?”

Without missing a beat, he answers, “Study business administration at the Radinger Institute of Technology.” Unlike most eighteen-year-olds I know who enthusiastically blabber on and on about what they're going to be doing after highschool, Bryce doesn’t seem interested in taking this conversation deeper.

“And you’re not excited about it because…?”

Bryce slurps his iced coffee from the straw and smiles, biting the plastic, red tube flat. “If this was a date I would tell you, but this isn’t one. The spilling of heart and soul is reserved for girls who are actually interested in me.”

Daylight Bryce Randall Simmons is cocky and flirty, different from his nighttime persona. The one who lurks in silence and observes his surroundings.The one who cries when he thinks no one is watching.

“Okay, what if I told you this was a date? Would you tell me then?”

“If we go somewhere else, first, after this.”

“Where?”

“Let’s get out of here and have lunch, and then I’ll tell you. I’m starving. I had to play tour guide the whole morning to some tourist chick and took a nap afterward. I didn’t have time for breakfast.”

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