but Dahmer had a weak point: she was also impressed by someone this dumb, knowing she couldn’t act like that. Maybe this was the same sort of weakness that made her say that if people made fun of her, she’d die. I don’t know.
I have my own weaknesses, and Dahmer and I share the same sense of despair, since we’d like to live a cool life but can’t as long as we’re burdened down with all these problems. I can’t let on to my dad that I’m a lesbian, I can’t seem to manage relations with people in high school, and I’m sure I’ll never be able to do so. These are burdens I’ll carry around the rest of my life. I get so scared thinking about the future it drives me crazy. Still, I just want my friends at school to think I’m a slightly mannish type of girl, nothing more, and I never, ever want the girls I’m friends with, Toshi, Kirarin, or Terauchi, to know that I’m a lesbian. Because of my issues, my life’s pretty complicated and I feel constrained, like I have to keep a tight lid on who I really am.
I was happy to meet Dahmer, because I think she understood all that. I think she was the same way. On days when she didn’t e-mail, I felt really down. Like lovers, we tried to tell each other what was going on every day. At the end of last year, though, I suddenly couldn’t get in touch with her anymore. When I called her mother, she said, “ That person’s gone off to study in Canada. I’m sure once she settles in she’ll e-mail you.” Her voice was strangely high-pitched and cheerful. I thought it was funny that they both referred to each other the same way, but there was something odd about her mother’s cheerfulness. I was wondering whether Dahmer had actually failed her math teacher by not getting her grades up and if she had died. I didn’t ask anything more. And that was the last I heard of her.
The incident I keep mentioning took place at night, three days before the end of summer vacation. The same sort of muggy night as tonight.
Boku-chan had announced she was going home to Kochi, so the three of us had a going-away party at Bettina. We had a few drinks but the party just didn’t get going. We hardly said a word and avoided looking at one another. “This looks more like a funeral than a going-away party,” the owner of the bar joked.
Boku-chan wound up spending a total of twenty-five days basically wandering around Tokyo. She hated getting all smelly sleeping on the streets, so the last half of her stay she slept over at Dahmer’s, which made their relationship go from bad to worse. The reason being that Boku-chan was a slovenly “guy”—and she was also an impolite country hick. She’d sleep past noon, eat whatever she could find in Dahmer’s fridge, leave the room a mess, and borrow Dahmer’s clothes without asking. When she took a shower, she’d just leave it running forever and forget to put away the shampoo and soap. Dahmer typically did the cleaning and washing for her mom, as well as shopping for dinner, and she hit the roof. I think also, like me, she felt vaguely irritated and sad knowing that when this summer vacation was over, so was her childhood. We sat at the counter, sipping our beer and listening to Tracy Chapman singing “Fast Car.” The owner liked the song but I thought it sucked.
“Man—this isn’t what I expected when I said I’m going home,” Boku-chan finally complained, but Dahmer and I kept quiet. We had long since gotten sick of this idiot.
“Next time I come I’m not getting in touch with you guys.”
“Fine by me,” Dahmer said, and glanced at her watch. “Almost time for the last train. I’m out of here.”
Surprised, I looked up. Dahmer usually stayed out all night and took the first morning train home, but on this last night together she was acting cold. She whipped out her purse and paid. Her hair hung down on her forehead, but through it, her eyes were gloomy and grown-up-looking. Boku-chan shot Dahmer a quick glance and
I have my own weaknesses, and Dahmer and I share the same sense of despair, since we’d like to live a cool life but can’t as long as we’re burdened down with all these problems. I can’t let on to my dad that I’m a lesbian, I can’t seem to manage relations with people in high school, and I’m sure I’ll never be able to do so. These are burdens I’ll carry around the rest of my life. I get so scared thinking about the future it drives me crazy. Still, I just want my friends at school to think I’m a slightly mannish type of girl, nothing more, and I never, ever want the girls I’m friends with, Toshi, Kirarin, or Terauchi, to know that I’m a lesbian. Because of my issues, my life’s pretty complicated and I feel constrained, like I have to keep a tight lid on who I really am.
I was happy to meet Dahmer, because I think she understood all that. I think she was the same way. On days when she didn’t e-mail, I felt really down. Like lovers, we tried to tell each other what was going on every day. At the end of last year, though, I suddenly couldn’t get in touch with her anymore. When I called her mother, she said, “ That person’s gone off to study in Canada. I’m sure once she settles in she’ll e-mail you.” Her voice was strangely high-pitched and cheerful. I thought it was funny that they both referred to each other the same way, but there was something odd about her mother’s cheerfulness. I was wondering whether Dahmer had actually failed her math teacher by not getting her grades up and if she had died. I didn’t ask anything more. And that was the last I heard of her.
The incident I keep mentioning took place at night, three days before the end of summer vacation. The same sort of muggy night as tonight.
Boku-chan had announced she was going home to Kochi, so the three of us had a going-away party at Bettina. We had a few drinks but the party just didn’t get going. We hardly said a word and avoided looking at one another. “This looks more like a funeral than a going-away party,” the owner of the bar joked.
Boku-chan wound up spending a total of twenty-five days basically wandering around Tokyo. She hated getting all smelly sleeping on the streets, so the last half of her stay she slept over at Dahmer’s, which made their relationship go from bad to worse. The reason being that Boku-chan was a slovenly “guy”—and she was also an impolite country hick. She’d sleep past noon, eat whatever she could find in Dahmer’s fridge, leave the room a mess, and borrow Dahmer’s clothes without asking. When she took a shower, she’d just leave it running forever and forget to put away the shampoo and soap. Dahmer typically did the cleaning and washing for her mom, as well as shopping for dinner, and she hit the roof. I think also, like me, she felt vaguely irritated and sad knowing that when this summer vacation was over, so was her childhood. We sat at the counter, sipping our beer and listening to Tracy Chapman singing “Fast Car.” The owner liked the song but I thought it sucked.
“Man—this isn’t what I expected when I said I’m going home,” Boku-chan finally complained, but Dahmer and I kept quiet. We had long since gotten sick of this idiot.
“Next time I come I’m not getting in touch with you guys.”
“Fine by me,” Dahmer said, and glanced at her watch. “Almost time for the last train. I’m out of here.”
Surprised, I looked up. Dahmer usually stayed out all night and took the first morning train home, but on this last night together she was acting cold. She whipped out her purse and paid. Her hair hung down on her forehead, but through it, her eyes were gloomy and grown-up-looking. Boku-chan shot Dahmer a quick glance and
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