Everything with my father was great right after the interview with Yuri Kameyama, and I want to believe him, not Cynthia. When I get home, I send her a message: Awesome inner thighs, girl! What workout is that?

Over the next few days, I go with Margot and my father to television shows and other media events, but I don't participate. We observe from the sidelines. People probably think I'm Margot's assistant, but I'm comfortable being invisible in the center of the action. That's me, probably forever.

Margot tells me that Brian Keating will get a private tour of my father's photography show next week, so I ask if I can join her, and she agrees. If Cynthia's right about them, I'll deal with it when the time comes.

Cynthia's too passionate and possibly unstable, but I'm still into her as a friend, if she ever wants. Because I need to be more passionate. And crazier. The more I think about her performance - throwing her panties at me! - the funnier it gets. If she's right about my father and Brian Keating, she nailed it. In a weird way, I admire her. If she's wrong, oh well, nothing amazing happens without taking a risk.

I don't get a response from Cynthia, but I hear from Joel. We agree to roller skate one morning before a crowd fills the rink. I'll confront him about my father then. I must, if I want to be stronger.

***

When I grab the passenger door of the rental car, Joel reaches over with one of his bare, muscular arms and unlocks it. His eyes don't stay on my face, but mine don't stay on his either. I jump in, feeling that maybe he does like me.

He wears a red T-shirt and light green shorts with dark green leaf designs. I adored Joel from afar, and I adore Joel up close. I want to tousle his thick black hair and touch his muscular legs. When he smiles, which he does a lot, his cheeks rise up and narrow his eyes, and that kills me.

Even though it's another missed school day, my mother doesn't argue about a date with an heir to half a billion dollars. Being semi-famous, it makes sense he wants to skate before noon on a school day and avoid a crowd.

"You look great," he says.

His compliment goes to my head more than it should. My metallic green skirt is not for the faint of heart, but I can't compete with curvy sex pots like Cynthia. My lack of confidence is more about what's inside. Certain boys will never like my body, some will, but no boy will fall for a mousy coward.

But I still don't rush the conversation to my father. As Joel drives, I decide to skate first. If his next movie has a good script, it should do well, because his acting obviously didn't ruin the last ones. Joel looks and acts like someone who wants to be with me. He's a great pretender. "Are you in Tokyo to work on a movie?" I say.

He shakes his head. "No." Then everything about him lights up, even his skin. "But that's okay. The best thing about Tokyo right now is you. Without you, this trip would suck."

I love that. I flop around on the seat, first toward him, then away, because I don't believe what I'm hearing. During all that, my hip bangs into him. "But I'm not your type," I say.

"You are." He clamps his hand over his heart. "Am I yours?"

To hide my goofy smile, I bury my face against the door. He pats my hip, which makes me remember my short metallic skirt and what might show, so I spring up and press my cheek into his shoulder. "I have no types yet."

He uses one hand to drive and puts his other arm around me.

"Sorry for being weird," I say. "I'm acting like Sophia."

"Don't be sorry. I can be weird too, you know."

"No, you can't. You're Joel Susugi. New York revolves around you."

"Not true." But he smiles as he stops the car from rear-ending a taxi. "I'm a sensitive soul, you know. Secretly, I'm tortured by so much time spent with fakes."

"So it's a relief to be around a simple girl like me?"

"Exactly, right?" He smiles like it just occurred to him. "That's the cliche."

I punch his shoulder, but he doesn't react. The driving gets more complex, and I can tell he's concentrating. I'm also quiet, because I'm thinking about the cliche and whether or not it's true. Maybe he really does crave a break from the glamorous world. I stay right where I am, with his arm around me and our bare legs touching. I don't ease away, even when I begin to feel like he's a hired escort. Instead of bringing up my father, maybe I should just keep showing him that I'm a geek. That'll make him think twice about spending time with me. I put on a serious face like Risa has when she discusses books. "I could write a new movie for you," I say. "You'll have to be a demon-slayer though."

We're so close I can feel his body stiffen. A moment passes before he relaxes. "I can handle that." His uneasy smile proves I'm a turn-off. One glimpse of the real me, and he doesn't like it.

After awhile, he glances at me, like he wants to say something, but we get to the roller rink without him speaking up. Maybe he'll ghost me. It happens. I even did it to the boy. But this is Joel Susugi, my longtime crush. Damn me. I'm going to regret being myself. I'm going to cry so much. Maybe I should take it back and behave like a ditz.

***

Joel can roller skate. I go around the rink without falling, but Joel spins around me or hovers up ahead while facing me and talking. "This is what you do instead of school?" I say.

"Yeah, sometimes." He laughs and zooms off.

We come together again. "But I've never seen a picture of you rollerskating."

"Yeah, you can't learn everything about a person from the internet." He smiles and drops low. After that, he reaches for my hand. "Let's take a break. I have a confession to make."

I'm unable to see his face as we exit the rink. In my head, I set in motion whatever he's going to say and prepare for what's coming, but I'm still ready to cry. I should try to be someone else starting right now, even though it's too late. Tonight, I'll curl up in bed and tear myself apart. I can't call Cynthia. Maybe I should call my father instead. Maybe he needs to experience messy Makiko, except only Cynthia sees that. Everyone else just sees quiet Makiko.

Joel leads me to a chair and rolls over to a drink machine near our table. I'm thirsty, and we drink from cans of soda until they're half-empty. I begin to think he's changed his mind about confessing and wonder if I can go on enjoying the fantasy for a few more days. Maybe I'll confess, tell him I know it's all a hoax, that my father-

"Makiko, I've read your fan fiction on Wattpad," he says.

I hide my face in my hands. "Oh." That fan fiction is about him and is probably more cloying and cringey than I realize. He slides his chair close to me. It's not just his minty cologne that makes me squirm. Despite my embarrassment, his proximity excites me. My hands cover my eyes, but his lips are very close to mine. He inhales slowly.

"I read it before we met. I liked your stories and really wanted to meet you. That's why I was in Hiroo."

I drop my hands, and he expertly catches them. Until I try to push back the chair, I forget I'm wearing roller skates. I stand and nearly fall. When I sit again, he lets go of me, so I can move if I want. "You wanted to meet me?" I say.

"Yeah, I'm weirder than you thought. I stalked you a little bit."

Joel wanted to meet me. I need to repeat that to myself, because it's the craziest idea ever, crazier than multiverses or time travel. "Huh?" I say.

"Yeah, I bumped into you on purpose."

I don't live in Hiroo. "How? My Wattpad doesn't even have my real name on it. Or my address."

"I know, but some guy was imitating me and interacted with you, so I got that closed down and-"

Joel knew my last name before asking me. That's what people with millions of dollars do. He bought the information? "But I almost never go to Hiroo."

"We figured out who your father is, found out he wanted to find you, and followed him. It's complicated, but not that complicated."

We? It shouldn't surprise me. He has an entourage? "Do you know my father?"

"I've seen him around, but we've never talked."

My gut churns and I'm unsure what to think. Joel Susugi liked my fan fiction and worried about me? "You came all the way to Tokyo to meet me?"

When he nods, there's a boyishness to it, an enthusiasm I like and believe in. "I have other things to do here too," he says, "but mostly I wanted to meet you. I also wanted to make sure you're safe. I saw that you were going to meet the guy who pretended to be me, but I saw it too late. I'm so glad you're okay."

There's no point telling him that it went badly, especially for Cynthia. "We knew that wasn't you." I lean away and cross my arms. I'm a quiet girl and an uptight weirdo. Maybe that doesn't show in my fan fiction.

"Are you mad?" he says.

"You came all this way," I say. "Are you disappointed?"

"No! I want to get to know you even better." He leans in. "Can I see you again?" he says.

I'm not going to confess that I thought my father set us up. Not today anyway. I carefully stand, so the roller skates don't flip me to the floor and push my short green skirt over my black blouse. When he stands, I roll into him, and we kiss. This kiss is better than our first kiss, which was great. But this kiss brings me a confusing combination of happy and sad. Our soft, hungry lips release so much energy and spark. Actually, it's so much more happy than sad, what the hell.

Afterwards, I breathe. "If you've told me everything, I'll see you again."

He doesn't look at me. There's a lag. "I have."

Something isn't right about that, but Joel seems more normal and human than ever suddenly, and maybe all that's left are ordinary secrets, like mine. I pull Joel toward the rink. "Okay, let's skate."

A business man in a suit without his suit coat is as good or better than Joel. Two tween girls gossip on the rink while a mother watches from the railing. It's busier than before, but not much. I enjoy speeding up, slowing down, and not falling. I try to catch up or keep up with Joel.

It's exciting that he came to Tokyo to find me. If true. I shouldn't doubt him, but anyone who sees him on the rink and sees me must wonder why we're together.

Joel knew about my fan fiction and wanted to meet me? He knew who I am on the inside, in a way, and liked the idea of me before learning Robert Pirone is my father?

He zooms ahead and back, stops to buzz me, hug me, touch me. When he's on the other side of the rink, he stares at me like I'm a life raft and he's at sea.

Joel has money and is a one-hit wonder. That may make him weirder than I ever imagined. It's possible he's got a lonely, wealthy boy's blues. As he skates, I project all this onto him, unsure if it's reality or my imagination. I see him differently though. That's true.

And he's still sexy and sweet. The tweens don't recognize him, but they stare at him as if I must be overthrown and replaced. The mom checks him out too.

Joel may not have a connection to my father, but he's hiding something else. I can feel it. Whether Joel's lies are big or small, I don't know. I care more about Joel's blues. To find out more, I'll stare into his brown eyes while our dirty lying hands explore each other. If he wants, he can break my heart. He can rip it right out of my body. Splat.

I almost called this chapter Joel's Blues, because Makiko sees him differently now. Do you?

Any ideas about how things will play out? Please guess away!  

Thanks for reading!