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For the last ten days, Marika felt like she was living in a survival horror. Ever since Dalia had agreed to go on a date with her, she had been avoiding her like if she even caught a glimpse of her, her head would explode from the blood rushing from her cheeks. Plus, she also had to learn to manage the new, unruly thoughts about Dalia that she would often have now that made her feel like throwing up her insides sometimes.
Marika didn’t learn to manage them—not alone, anyway. Rika was always there to help her when she needed her. Seventeen times Marika called Rika this week to talk about her feelings toward Dalia—and she was sure Rika would pick up seventeen times that if Marika needed. However, Rika was also the only one that knew just how bad Marika’s affliction of the heart was, and that made her feel guilty.
She had thought about telling Saori about her feelings once or twice, but decided against it. They were decently close friends, but their relationship always had a formal flair to it. Whenever they spoke, it was usually about Merm4id or the classes they shared—never about dating. Plus, Saori had never said it outright, but Marika had figured that she was too busy with college and DJ work to ride with her on this romance rollercoaster.
And Marika certainly couldn’t tell Dalia. That broke all the fundamentals that the pickup artists that she had forced herself to watch told her about. Never seem more interested in a girl than she was in you; if you did, kiss your chances with her goodbye. And honestly, what would Dalia even see in someone like her? Marika was adequately alluring and able to dance and sing a bit, but that was about it. Meanwhile, Dalia was perfect—elegant, athletic, intelligent, emotionally mature, and secure…
“Marika. Stop overthinking.” Rika snapped her fingers twice, causing Marika to look back down at her laptop screen to see a semi-disgruntled Rika staring at her and tapping a cerise nail against her cherry wood desk. “You’ve gotta stay out of la-la land and focus. How else are we gonna make a game plan for tomorrow?”
Rika was right, but that was easier said than done. The slightest thoughts about Dalia could make her spiral into some lovey-dovey, fluffy fantasy featuring them exchanging wedding vows and moving in together in a cute condo in Atami where they raised two cats and lived happily ever after, or down a steep slope of self-doubt that made her view herself like an insect under a microscope. Still, she would try. Marika’s date with Dalia was tomorrow. All she’d need to do was hold out for one more day.
Hopefully.
“I know,” Marika whispered, sitting cross-legged on her bed and resting her head in her palm. “Sorry, sorry. It’s just… I don’t know. What if I’m not good enough for her? Like, what if it doesn’t work out?”
“Well, you are good enough for her, Marika, duh. If you weren’t, she wouldn’t have even considered going out on a date with you. And if it doesn’t work out…” Rika looked up at the ceiling and hummed before looking back down at Marika. “If it doesn’t work out, you probably come over to my dorm, we cuddle or whatever, you cry into my arms, I kiss your cheeks to try to make you feel better, we order pizza, and then… we probably watch Better Call Saul. Regular girls night, you know.”
Although Marika was sure Rika’s elaborate explanation of how things would go if things between her and Dalia didn’t work out was tragically true, she snorted with a smile. Rika always knew how to improve her mood, even if only with her harsh honesty. Marika appreciated that; it was one of her favorite things about her best friend.
“Better Call Saul does sound pretty good,” Marika said. “I’d rather we watch it to celebrate a successful date, though.” She paused for a moment. “I’m just really, really worried. I don’t even really know what I’m going to say to her…”
“What?” Rika blinked and twirled a lock of fiery orange hair around her index finger. “Didn’t you, like, spend hours in the mirror rehearsing all the things you wanted to say to her?”
Marika bit her lip. “I did. I didn’t really like any of them, though. I thought a lot of it sounded, like, too needy! Or too desperate! Or fake, I guess… Or… I don’t know, just not all that good… I wish I could ask Dalia for help. She’s great at stuff like that. I know she’ll say literally anything to me and my heart’s gonna melt. And I’ll be a flustered mess trying to figure out how to even reply…”
Color rose to Marika’s cheeks, and the pressure of the situation made her whole body feel as if it had been set ablaze. It was hard not to drown in those incipient thoughts of ineptitude and inadequacy, but she fiddled with the sleeves of her wheat-colored sweater, chewed her bottom lip, and stared at Rika on her laptop screen to keep herself present. Marika didn’t know whether her actions were healthy ways to do so—but they helped.
“Alright, well, let’s practice,” Rika started. “How about I be Dalia and you be you? And then you just say… I dunno, whatever comes to your mind. Can we do that?”
Marika nodded, a little too excitedly. That sounded good. “Yeah, we can. Let’s, uh, let’s try it.”
“Alright. Three, two, one. Action!” Marika cleared her throat and spoke as if her mind and larynx were replaced by unsuitable mechanical substitutes. “Hey, Marika, beautiful night tonight, isn’t it? How are you?”
“She doesn’t sound like that,” Marika said, unfortunately cracking a small smile at Rika’s impression of her crush. “No way.”
“Uh, yes way!” Rika replied with flaming fervor, as if Marika’s critique of her exaggerated portrayal of Dalia had offended her. Marika knew it didn’t—but she always found the way Rika could get jumpy over the small things funny. “Have you heard Dalia talk? Actually, better yet, have you seen her do the robot? That girl can break it down!”
“I’ve seen both! But I’m just saying she really doesn’t sound like that! She’s not a robot!”
Rika huffed and rolled her eyes while smiling. “Okay, so what? Something more trashy then? I can try again.” She cleared her throat before speaking in a voice so high it was sure to make the angels’ ears bleed. “Hey, babygirl, like, what’s up!? Oh my God! The moon is so big, round, and bright tonight, don't you think!?”
Marika’s cheeks swelled with air before she burst into bouncy laughter so powerful it pushed her onto her back and caused her to kick her feet with joy like a baby. Rika also knew how to make her crack up like no one else, too. And when that happened, she threatened to make her howl for hours. Tears washed Marika’s violet eyes like spring rainfall as she placed a hand over her mouth to quiet her jubilant outburst. To little success; Rika was just that funny.
“Okay, okay, calm down,” Rika gently giggled. “I know you’re having fun, but come on! We gotta stay on track! We’re wasting valuable time here, Marika!”
Rika’s words were tailored with a tranquil triviality that made it seem as if the two of them had until all the stars in the universe burned out to figure things out. Even though Rika’s words didn’t match her tone, Marika agreed. They could laugh later—after they figured out what Marika would say on her date.
With a few more laughs bordering on coughs, Marika lunged forward to sit upright and wiped the lingering tears from her eyes with her thumbs. “Sorry, sorry. That just got to me. Never, ever do that again. Holy shit, you nearly killed me.”
Rika snickered. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it! You’ve still got to respond, though. What will you say to good ol’ Dalia, hm?”
Marika paused and profoundly pondered Rika’s question like it was on an exam and she just had the answer sealed away in the back of her mind. She sifted through corny response after corny response in her head—and then decided on what might have been the corniest one.
“Um, yeah, the night is beautiful… But not as beautiful as y-you, Dalia…”
Now, it was Rika’s turn to cackle and kick about as if she was a victim of the worst tickle torture known to man. Marika knew what she said was bad, but she didn’t think that it was so bad that it threatened to make her laugh her way into the grave…
Her hysterics came to an abrupt end when Rika accidentally slammed her heel against her desk. Sucking air through her teeth, Rika cradled her foot against her chest like it was a newborn and squeezed her eyes shut.
“Damn, that hurts,” she said through gritted teeth. “Ow, ow, ow, shit! Why did you let me laugh so hard!?”
“Why did I let you laugh so hard!?” Marika puffed her cheeks and narrowed her eyes. “You’re the one who—!”
The light buzzing of Marika’s lavender iPhone atop her ash wood nightstand made her pipe down and look toward it with woeful curiosity. Somehow, she knew Dalia was calling her—and that made her stomach churn. Frozen in place, Marika’s mind sold her little nightmares about how an aggrieved Dalia would admonish her for avoiding her and axe their plans for tomorrow. Marika didn’t know what she would do with herself if that happened.
“Hey, are you gonna answer?” Rika asked; Marika brought just her gaze toward the screen. “I can wait, you know. You handle your business. I can wait.”
Rika’s words were to the point and kept her from dipping more into the depths of despair. She didn’t even know if it was actually Dalia calling—but if it was, things would be fine. Probably. Even if there was truth to her trifling thoughts and she had offended Dalia, through torment and tears, she would plead her case of being too tense to talk these last ten days because she was nervous about her date. It made her sound pathetic, but that was the best she could think of at that moment.
Just as the phone was about to go to voicemail, Marika rushed for it and answered without checking who it was. She left her phone on the nightstand and put it on speaker to avoid it embarrassingly slipping from her sweaty hands before taking a deep, ragged breath that was sure to be heard on the other side and speaking in a dulcet voice that thinly veiled her uneasiness.
“Hello, Marika Mizushima speaking. W-Who is this?”
“Hey, Marika, it’s Dalia. I was just wondering if we were still on for tomorrow.”
Silence filled the room, and a thick tension hung in the air like a heavy fog. Marika double-checked if her air conditioning was working because she was sweating like it was a sweltering day in July. It was—still set to seventy-seven degrees. So, that meant what she was experiencing now was that paralyzing fear she only saw in movies and books akin to having your body littered with snake bites. Marika didn’t want her chances with Dalia to come up with snake eyes, so she had to reply no matter how petrified she was at that moment.
Marika swallowed hard and forced open her stone-stiff lips. “Y-Yeah, of course! Sorry, um, I was gonna text to check in, but I figured you still wanted to so I didn’t, um, sorry! And sorry for not calling more! I’ve just been really, really, really busy recently! With school and homework and stuff… And, um, sorry for running away from you in the library on Monday! Just—!”
Dalia chuckled; it was as sweet as birdsong. “Don’t worry about it. I understand. Hey, I was thinking about coming over, actually. We haven’t spent time together in a while. I miss you.”
Marika’s heart stopped for a moment and her skin went bone white. Had Dalia said what she thought she said?
Dalia… missed her!?
It took a second for her to process Dalia’s words, but when she did, her entire face lit up like fireworks. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Rika, who was nodding as if trying to fling her head off. Shoot, she needed to respond!
“Y-Yeah, er, yeah!” Marika kept her eyes fixed on Rika, who gestured for her to continue. “I would, um, I would love for you to come over! Right now! Er, you’re coming over right now!?”
“That was the plan.” Dalia let out a low chuckle. “Alright, I’ll be right over. See you soon, Marika.”
“Y-Yeah!” Marika’s heart thrashed about in her chest as if it was desperate for escape. “Bye, er, bye-bye! See you soon!”
With another gilded giggle, Dalia hung up. Marika was left sitting on her knees, clutching her rowdy heart as she locked eyes with Rika, who was bouncing up and down with glee. Marika would’ve been bouncing with her if she wasn’t stunned by the disbelief of what had just transpired. Every time Marika tried to make sense of what happened, it replayed in her mind like a stop motion movie too fast for her to decipher. It all just happened so fast.
“Girl,” Rika said excitedly.
“Girl,” Marika echoed, wide-eyed and with a growing smile.
“She is so into you!”
The two of them squealed in unison so loudly that it almost brought down their dorm room walls. It was near impossible to believe, but Rika had said those words with such solid conviction that Marika believed it had to be a little true. Dalia did say she missed her after all; thinking about that made poor Marika’s head spin off into space.
But she kept herself grounded enough to ask her best friend another question. “Do you really think so?”
“I know so.” Rika rested her head in her palms. “I mean, did you hear the part where she asked to come over because she missed you!? She’s into you. She’s so into you, it hurts. I mean, her already accepting to go on a date with you meant she was into you, but now I see she’s into you, into you.”
Marika’s heart rate kicked up again, beating so fast it hurt. Her heart ached for Dalia—but that left her in a state of emotional discord. She wanted to stay bright-eyed and giggling as she indulged herself in flighty fantasies about Dalia—but what if things didn’t work out? What if this was all a flash in the pan experience, or she was, somehow, celebrating an imaginary success? Rika had pointed out that Dalia had liked her—but did Dalia?
“Dude, Marika,” Rika called, yanking Marika from her mental haze once more. “You’re doing it again. Overthinking.”
Marika frowned, slumping over slightly and retreating into herself. “Sorry. I just… I guess I just do it. I think I’m trying to keep my expectations low. It just seems sort of unreal, you know? Someone like Dalia thinking about me that way. Even noticing me…”
All her life, Marika had been a ghost girl—invisible to the rest of her student body through elementary school, all the way through high school, and without a backbone for as long as she could remember. Marika always hated that; so much so that, in high school, she tried modeling to discover who she was. Spotlights and flashing cameras didn’t fix problems, though—they only shone lights on more.
When Marika got bigger gigs, she received attention from her schoolmates—but not the kind she hoped for. They viewed quiet Marika as vain and vapid; a clout vampire to avoid at all costs. In the end, she was just a pretty face on magazine covers; someone fated to fade into the background once again by the end of senior year.
In college, things changed. High school hostility didn’t follow her there, even from ex-schoolmates. And, for once, she got to have an intoxicating taste of what being one of the popular girls was like. It was bittersweet, and she didn’t like it—and she kept to herself because of it, too. She learned that being popular doesn’t make you feel fulfilled. She learned from Rika that being confident does, though.
Since their chance meeting in the cafeteria, Rika had led her down an admittedly wayward path to confidence and contentment—and she was always there to pick Marika up when she stumbled or fell. Merm4id live shows, vlogs, volunteer work, speed dates with girls she hardly knew, and being forced into mud volleyball once all helped her to figure out who Marika was—helped her learn to appreciate who Marika was, even if only a little.
But sometimes, the ghost girl she used to be still haunted her. Sometimes, she felt inadequate and invisible. Or at least like she should be.
“Well,” Rika started, “I think you don’t need to keep your expectations low. I mean, keeping your expectations low is a good way to shield yourself from disappointment. But I think that stuff can affect your actions, too. When you keep your expectations low, I think you’re less likely to fight tooth and nail for what you want. That’s why I think you should always shoot for the moon instead. Even if you fall, you land amongst the stars. Do you get it, Marika?”
After taking a few seconds to digest Rika’s words, Marika nodded. She appreciated the message, and she didn’t doubt that there was some truth to it—but it would be difficult to put into practice. Philosophies and ideals weren’t just pages in notebooks that could be ripped out and written anew, they were seeds—watered by the tears of childhood experiences and grown in the muck and grime of hardship. For someone like Marika who played it safe for her whole life, ‘shooting for the moon’ didn’t seem optimal, no matter how cerebral Rika made it seem.
But for Rika, she would try. Her logic hadn’t failed her yet.
“Okay,” Marika said. “Yeah, I get it. So, you want me to keep my expectations high, right? I can… I can try to do that. But if things go wrong, you better have ice cream and Better Call Saul waiting for me.”
Rika snorted. “They won’t, but I will anyway. I believe in you, Marika. I always will. Even if sometimes you don’t believe in yourself, I want you to remember that.”
Those words brought a smile as bright and vibrant as sunshine to Marika’s lips; Rika mirrored it, reflecting rays of glee that broke through Marika’s cloudy heart.
She would remember those words. And she would always try her best—because Rika believed in her.
Their sweet moment was brought to an abrupt end when Rika’s doorbell suddenly rang. She tossed her head back for a second before looking back at Marika.
“Oh, Wave Eats is here!” she said. “I’ll have to catch you tomorrow! Tell me all the spicy details about how everything went tomorrow!” Still beaming, she fervently waved at the camera. “Bye-bye! See you in bio, babe!”
Marika smiled and waved back. “Bye, Rika! Thanks for today! See you!”
They ended their video call and Marika sighed, resting her back against her bed frame and looking up at her ceiling as if were the night sky.
Shoot for the moon? I can do that…
Thirty-three minutes and forty-nine seconds had passed since Marika ended her call with Rika; Dalia still wasn’t there. From their phone call, Marika had gotten the impression that she would be en route immediately after it ended. Their dorms were only ten minute walks apart at most. So why wasn’t Dalia here yet?
Marika didn’t think that Dalia had changed her mind. The thought crossed hers once, but she discarded it easily. Dalia was steadfast in her commitments; Marika couldn’t think of even one time where Dalia made a dishonest vow. If Dalia said she was coming—she was coming.
Something must have delayed her; Marika hoped it wasn’t a family emergency or injury. She had debated texting Dalia just to check in, but decided not to. If an emergency had arisen, the last thing Dalia needed was her inquiries. Marika just had to wait.
Waiting wasn’t all bad, though—in those thirty-three minutes, Marika had lived several lives. She had been a NutriBullet barista, a self-taught yogini, a TikTok star with barely two hundred followers. Now, she was a mudfish on her bed, watching the hands of her small silver wall clock. Tick, tick, tick—the sound was maddening.
Marika rolled onto her back and slapped her hands on her stomach. Boredom was like quicksand to her. No matter how she scrambled about for escape, she would always fall victim to it, sinking to the depths of mental numbness.
After flexing her slender fingers against each other, Marika pushed her newly bitten-down nails into her palms. She was at a total loss of what to do next. Maybe she should watch a show or something…
A sigh slipped from her lips—and the moment it did, there was a brisk knocking at her door.
Dalia!?
Marika perked up like a pet would at its owner’s return. Her eyes flew towards the door; the knocking continued, louder and more hurried than before.
“Marika, it’s Dalia!” came from the other side of the door. “Can you please open the door?”
It is Dalia!
The hurry in Dalia’s voice didn’t go unnoticed. Marika jumped to her feet, threw on the gray, kitten paw-strewn sweatpants laying on her bed, and rushed to the door. After opening it, she greeted Dalia with a white grin and reddened cheeks. Dalia returned a warm smile of her own, and Marika’s heart melted.
Dalia was beautiful as always, dressed in her fern, oversized university hoodie and tight Apple Bottoms that reminded Marika part of why she had given her heart to such a glacé girl. Marika’s lips parted, but no words emerged. She hadn’t noticed it before, but she was shaking—hands balled into tight fists at her side and toes curling to hide away in the shaggy welcome mat. An insidious feeling spread throughout her body, pricking at her psyche like thorns.
Come on, Marika. Say something. She’s right there. You have to say something…
Her thoughts came in Rika’s rosy voice. Rika believed in her—and she needed to believe in herself, too. Marika squeezed her eyes shut and breathed in the suffocating atmosphere. Adversity was a beast to conquer, not a monster she needed to flee from. She could do this. She could talk to Dalia.
I can do it.
Dalia cleared her throat. “Um, Marika—”
“I like you.”
Those words slipped from her lips like butter on a hot knife. After a second, Marika realized what she said and her face lit aflame. She wasn’t sure what spirit had possessed her to embolden her, or what to do next. All she could do was what felt right. Slapping her hands against her face, she retreated into the faux solitude of comforting darkness. It was a step back—Marika wanted to be as lionhearted as Rika believed she could—but she couldn’t at that moment. A whirlwind of emotions whisked her thoughts about; no matter how Marika tried, she couldn’t focus. She couldn’t speak after that.
She was just dumb. And Dalia laughed sweetly as ever.
Confusion beckoned her to peek through her fingers. As she did, she saw Dalia smiling and laughing—having the time of her life. Were her words truly that funny? Were they pathetic? Did she pity her?
Tears threatened to fall down her cheeks, but Marika closed her eyes in protest. Now was not the time to be crying; especially not in front of Dalia after giving an impromptu confession. The last thing she needed was to look more pathetic in front of her.
Dalia’s laughing came to an abrupt end, and she cleared her throat. “I know. I like you, too, Marika. I thought that was obvious. We are going on a date tomorrow.”
Slowly, Marika lowered her hands and opened her eyes. The first thing her glassy gaze settled on was Dalia’s soft, warm smile. A wave of emotion washed over her, knocking her off her feet and against Dalia. Marika wasn’t sure what came over her—but she was clinging to Dalia and crying rivers of tears. Maybe she looked pathetic, but who cared about that now?
Dalia huffed, and while she didn’t reciprocate the hug, she lined Marika’s cheeks with candy kisses that brought her heart rate dangerously high. Marika wanted this moment to last forever.
About three minutes of crying passed before Marika pulled away, sniffling. After wiping her tears away, she locked eyes with Dalia again—and it was her turn to laugh like nobody’s business.
“Hey, what’s so funny?” Dalia asked, chuckling.
“I…” Marika paused and sniffled. “I just didn’t expect you to answer so readily like that. You just up and said it! But, um, just double-checking to make sure this isn’t a dream… You do have feelings for me, right?”
“I do.” Dalia nodded and her smile grew larger and prettier, like a spring flower in bloom. “I have feelings for you, Marika. Like I said, I thought that was obvious because we were going on a date. People who don’t have feelings for each other usually don’t go on dates.”
“I know, but there are friend dates. I was just double-checking, I guess.” She paused again, and her gaze fell to the oak floor. “I guess… I guess I was worried you wouldn’t like me back. I didn’t think you would like someone like me?”
Dalia raised a thin eyebrow. “Someone like you?”
“Yeah, I don’t know.” Marika tried to continue, but tripped over her words. After a two-second pause for thought, the words came. “I just… I don’t know. If I’m honest, you’re just so perfect to me. You’re beautiful, you can dance amazingly, you’re always so confident in yourself. I guess I just wish I could be more like you sometimes. You’re amazing, Dalia…”
Humming, Dalia pursed her lips. Without warning, she pulled Marika close, one arm cradling her back while one hand rested against her reddened cheek. Slowly, Dalia lowered Marika’s ear to her chest. What Marika heard astounded her. Dalia’s heart was pounding; perhaps faster than hers had at all tonight. Its tempo was wild and unpredictable—like a broken metronome—but Marika found sanctuary in listening. It was the anthem of Dalia’s soul.
“I’m nervous like you,” Dalia said. “I might not show it the best, but I am.” She paused, then let out a defeated sigh, like Marika had somehow caught her. “All those things you told me about, Marika. About me being perfect. I think that about you, too… So perfect that I, er, I spent so, so long practicing what I would say to you in the mirror before I arrived… I like the way you laugh, and how you’re always willing to try new things. I like the way you always do your best. And I like—”
Marika mashed her lips against Dalia’s. Wide-eyed, Dalia hummed before her eyes fluttered closed and she reciprocated. They started off simple—with parted lips and tiny sips—neither truly daring to kiss the other. Marika was a novice when it came to kissing, and she could tell Dalia was, too, surprisingly. But that was okay. Marika was already intoxicated by her peppermint taste. She needed more.
Daringly, she slid her tongue between Dalia’s teeth; Dalia followed suit, letting Marika lead her in their passionate dance while she led Marika out the doorway. One step forward for Dalia, one step back for Marika. They had a clunky rhythm that made them collide against walls and nearly trip over one another, but they managed. At the end of their journey, they found themselves on Marika’s bed, indulging in each other like they were the other’s ambrosia.
After a minute of kissing, Marika, who was now on top of Dalia, pulled away and giggled sweetly. Dalia echoed it, raising her hands to play in Marika’s long cinnamon hair.
“And I like you,” Dalia said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I like you a lot. I love you.”
“I know.” Marika said at the same volume before placing a kiss against Dalia’s cute nose. “I love you, too…”