The Book of Firsts

Four

Friday was overcast, rain threatening but not emerging. I had an irritating morning in Mr Mullen’s class, a teacher whose style involved light mockery for any student who didn’t have the answer to his abruptly rapped-out questions.

Determined not to let him get my back up, I secured my sandwich and went to climb a tree. Since Tuesday had been taken by Rin, today would be Kyou or Bran. I couldn’t decide which one I would rather find.

No voices this time, but no sign of anyone in the garden either. I munched my sandwich until the faintest whisper caught my attention. Paper turning? Tucking my empty wrapper away, I transferred to the wall, and found Kyou sitting at the café table, flipping through a sheathe of papers.

"The tea’s getting cold," he said, without looking up.

Two cups and a cast iron teapot were sitting on the table, and so I dropped down and took a seat. Kyou poured: green tea, still quite hot.

He waited until I was drinking to continue.

"Would you prefer we use condoms?"

Entertained by this blatant attempt to make me choke, I took an unhurried moment to consider. The test results, expensively expedited and shared on Monday, had been clear all round, so disease wasn’t a factor. I’d also contributed a record of a three-year contraceptive implant. The brand boasted one of the highest prevention rates available, but few birth control methods were infallible, and condoms would add certainty while saving some cleaning up. However, they would also be evidence, the kind of thing that, if not carefully disposed of, could cause large consequences.

Putting my cup down, I mimicked his serenely indifferent tone: "So long as you don’t do anything to impact those admirably spotless medical records, I’ll leave that to your choice. What happens on rainy days? Climbing that wall won’t be fun on wet winter days."

He picked up the other cup and sipped. "There are arrangements which can be made regarding rainy days. But it’s clear that we need a method of communicating issues like Rin’s visitor. I’ll have Bran put something together."

I didn’t comment, drinking my tea and considering the garden. If someone arrived while I was here, I could lurk around by the tap, but there was no real hiding place.

"Anything on the list that you want to change?" Kyou asked. "Any requests or suggestions?"

"Clean is better," I said. "Shower beforehand if needed."

He nodded, his gaze heavy-lidded as he studied me, searching for reactions. "All this is hardly binding," he said. "You’re free to back out at any time. But if you’re having second thoughts, it’s better to tell us early."

"I’ll keep that in mind," I said, and he smiled at my bland tone.

"You came here from Spain?" he asked then, and I blinked, before realising that as a student council member he probably had, if not access to my records, a lot of contact with those who did.

"Yes. My mother’s last project was in Barcelona. She’s a consultant—goes to various sites and points out all their problems. Her current project is in Singapore."

"Let me know if there’s anything you need for school transition."

This was said without his usual edge of challenge, so I asked about lesson plans for the previous grade, and he pulled a tablet from his bag and took me through the more obscure corners of the school website, including a cache of old exam papers to practice with. I found this both useful and an excellent excuse to simply listen to him. His voice was wonderfully deep and resonant.

I had a strong suspicion he was well aware of its effect on people.

Still, he was being helpful. "Would you recommend Dorner House? The guidance counsellor wants me to apply."

"It’s convenient. Reasonable room size. The new supervisor is less militant than the previous one, so the atmosphere tends to be relaxed and social. And if there’s somewhere around the city you want to visit, they’ll often get up group trips on the weekend and drive you there."

"Quiet? Good place to ignore everyone and study?"

"Definitely not. Do you have long to travel to get here?"

"About twenty minutes to the west gate."

"Not too bad." A single, heavy drop of rain landed on his neglected papers, and he glanced up at the threatening sky, then collected everything into his backpack, and went to put away the cups, returning with an umbrella. "On that note, I’ll show you the solution for rainy days."

Pulling my own umbrella out of my backpack in readiness, I followed him to the entry gate, reflecting that Kyou was a game player. Acting the role of helpful student council member, trying to trip me with words, but never betraying a consciousness of a scheduled kiss.

Kyou’s approach only made me determined not to be the first to blink in his little game of brinkmanship. I watched without comment as he turned a heavy key which he’d left on the inside of the gate’s double-sided lock, and opened it onto a long walkway. On the left the stone of the garden wall merged with the administration building, leading to a stretch of windows and then double doors: the staff entrance from their car park. On the right was a clipped box hedge backed by a forbidding spiked fence.

The hedge did not run quite the whole way, and directly next to the gate was a section blocked only by bars. After locking the gate, Kyou twisted one of the bars and lifted it free, then repeated the action with a second.

"After you."

Slipping off my backpack, I ducked through, and waited until he had followed and replaced the bars. We stood in an area shielded on three sides by fence and hedge.

"This way," Kyou said, and led me back along the wall of the student council garden. It was the same wall I’d climbed over, but not the same area I’d been in, which was blocked off by another wall running perpendicular. We followed it to a path that ran along the outside of the school fence, set a little back from the footpath, with a few slender tree trunks about, but otherwise clear views in three directions.

"We call these dovecotes," Kyou said, as we reached a small wooden building resembling a two-person bus shelter. "Primarily because birds often nest in the roofs. They’re a convenience for people waiting for their ride when it’s raining. I imagine you can put together the solution to the wet weather problem. Here."

He handed me the key to the garden, then raised his umbrella to cover us both as another spatter of raindrops peppered the ground.

"A copy?" I asked.

"We already had one cut for each of us. Strictly against the rules, but so many things are."

Then, in full sight of anyone who might follow the path or drive out of the nearby staff carpark, he bent down and kissed me. My eyes went wide, but I responded after only a moment’s lag.

Every second that ticked by, my heart pounded all the more. The path, while not a main thoroughfare, was unlikely to be left empty for long. Half the point, I guess. I’d certainly never reacted so intensely to a kiss since my very first, and I was pleased that Kyou was breathing just as heavily when he lifted his head.

He didn’t speak, only smiled, then turned and walked toward the staff car park, leaving me to hastily raise my own umbrella as the rain came down in earnest.