Katana (28 page)

“Enough, Quentin!” I reached across the booth and grabbed his shirt collar, pulling him forward and forcing him to sit up straight.

He was undeterred. “I want to know what happened, where, and when.”

“I’m not going to tell you that!” My cheeks burned.

“Hmpff.” He sat back against the booth with his arms crossed. “You’re no fun.”

“It’s just that I don’t really feel good about the whole thing.”

“Oh, don’t tell me.” He stuck out his bottom lip in a pout. “Bad kisser?”

“Not at all. In fact—” I stopped myself when I realized he’d tricked me again. “Quentin!” I grabbed a couple of sugar packets off the table and threw them at him. “Be serious!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He laughed as he plucked my discarded ammunition from his chest. After placing them back on the table and dusting himself off, he cleared his throat. “I am now serious.”

“Yeah, right,” I told him, grinning. “And I am now Miley Cyrus.”

He stuck his tongue out.

“Whatever.” I waved my hand in the air. “I just think the whole thing was a giant mistake.”

He blinked, waiting for me to continue.

“It was too soon,” I went on. “I have a lot going on right now. I’m still dealing with all these … changes. Plus there’s Whitley … as if trying to date one guy isn’t hard enough! And then last night, I don’t know what happened, I was upset with Kim one minute, and the next we were all over each other.” I shook my head. “But then I found out that he lied to me—
again.”

“Oh, Ri-Ri!” He threw his arms on the table and collapsed on them dramatically. “Do you have to overanalyze everything?”

“I’m just telling you how it is!” I cried. “I can’t have a relationship with two guys—especially if one is a liar.”

Quentin smiled. “Well, actually … ”

I narrowed my eyes.

He threw his hands in the air. “All right! Calm down. This is all really simple.”

I waited.

“Who do you like better?”

I gave an exaggerated sigh. “It’s not that easy. Whitley is so nice and drama-free. But Kim, the way I feel around him … it scares me. It’s like gravity ceases to exist and he’s the only thing I can hold on to.”

Quentin put his hand under his chin. “That is
hot.”

“Yeah, well.” I rolled my eyes. “It may be hot, but it doesn’t change the fact that I can’t trust Kim. Yeah, part of me is drawn to him, but that doesn’t mean I like it.”

“Because you’re scared. You’ve never been in love before.”

I almost choked on my coffee. “And I’m not in love now.”

He smiled and shrugged. “All right, you can keep lying to yourself.”

I folded my arms. “You don’t get it. Even if I could trust Kim, I don’t think he likes me for who I am. I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m somebody else.”

Quentin’s smile faded, and he collapsed his head back onto his folded arms. “Are you kidding me?” he asked.

“What?”

He sat up. “This is your problem? Kim doesn’t like you for who you are? Who does he think you are?”

“Some kick-ass fighter chick,” I told him.

“Okay, and why did Whitley ask you out?”

I thought about how excited Whitney was when he mentioned the story of my fight in the parking lot. “Um, because he thinks I’m some kick-ass fighter chick.”

Quentin cocked an eyebrow.

“Bah!” I waved my hand. “Then I guess neither one of them
really
knows me.”

“That’s one answer. Here’s another: I think the only person who doesn’t know you is
you.”

I glared across the table at him. The last thing I needed was another person telling me who I was.

“Listen, Ri-Ri. When I found out you were part Bruce Lee, I wasn’t really that surprised. You’re an incredibly strong, confident girl. Your mom really did a number on your head if you can’t see that.”

His insight brought goose bumps to my skin. Wasn’t that exactly what Kim had said? This life had locked away my inner warrior, and the awkward, uncertain girl was left holding the key. “Q,” I whispered. “There’s more.”

He settled himself against the back wall, smiling. “Ooh details, bring ’em on!”

“Not about that!” I swatted his arm. “This is serious.”

He ran a hand over his face, pretending to smooth his smile into a frown.

My throat went dry. This was it. But what if it was too much for him to handle? Would I lose the best friend I ever had?

He cocked his head at my hesitation and then placed a reassuring hand on my arm. “Ri-Ri.” His tone was quiet. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

“You’re going to think I’m crazy.”

“Not an issue. I already do.”

I smiled, despite myself. “This has to do with Kim.”

He clapped his hands together.

I ignored him. “Anyway, it turns out that I knew him in a past life.” I stopped and waited for a reaction. I didn’t get one, so I continued. “And it’s not so much that we knew each other, but apparently, we were pretty heavy.” Still no reaction. I talked faster. “Not only that, but we were also samurai!” I sat back, bracing myself for the worst.

He folded his arms and leaned back against the wall. “I don’t believe it.”

I dropped my eyes to the table. I figured this was how it would go.

“This has to do with the attack, doesn’t it?”

I wasn’t sure how to answer that question. I opened my mouth to ask, but he cut me off.

“You awakened that night, didn’t you?”

I blinked several times before I answered, sure I hadn’t heard him correctly. “How—how do you know about that?”

He inched closer to me so that he could whisper. “Remember Dillon? That guy I met when my parents took us all to Jamaica? He told me all about it. He said he was an Arabian concubine in a previous life.” He wagged his eyebrows. “Very exotic.”

“You believe me?” I couldn’t have been more surprised if the President of the United States walked into the café and did his own personal rendition of
Lord of the Dance.

“Honey,” he scolded, “you should know me better than to think I’d ever judge anyone. If you say you’re a samurai,” he shrugged his shoulders, “then you’re a samurai.”

“Okay, so you’re not judging me. But I need to know, do you
believe
me?”

“Truthfully,” he began, “at first, when Dillon tried to explain things to me, I thought maybe he’d spent too much time smoking up. But after getting to know him, the things that he knew and the dreams he had, it was impossible to argue. And you—” He laughed. “Who can argue after seeing what happened to those muggers? It makes perfect sense. What I can’t believe is that you didn’t come to me sooner.”

“I was afraid you’d think I was crazy.”

He waved the notion away with his hand. “Is this all you wanted to tell me?” he asked.

“I wish. But there’s more … I was attacked
again
while on my date with Whitley. Then the next day the attacker came back, broke into my house, and trashed my room.”

The blood drained from Quentin’s face, leaving his face the color of the Styrofoam cup he held. “You mean my sister wasn’t exaggerating? And you’re just telling me about this now?”

“Like I said, it’s complicated. Do you know what transcending is?”

“Trans-what-it-who?”

I thought back to the explanation from the dojo. “It bridges the gap between your past and present lives with an object from the past. When you touch this object, supposedly you can unlock the part of your brain that keeps the past hidden. You’ll be able to remember everything.”

“Wow,” he said.

“Yeah, wow,” I agreed.

“What does this have to do with your house getting broken into?”

I filled him in on everything that preceded my first visit to the dojo up until I met him at the café.

“Wow,” he said again when I finished. “After I sweep the salon, I’ll go home and pack a bag.”

“What? Why?”

He shrugged. “You’re supposed to be there at four, right?”

I nodded.

“Well, I’m going with you. I’m not going to let you hide from some bad guys all by your lonesome. It’ll be fun. Like a sleepover!”

I shook my head. I’m sure with Quentin there, it
would
be more like a sleepover than a hideout. I bit my lip to keep it from quivering.

“Oh no. No-no. Don’t you start that up!” Q got out of the booth and slid in next to me, laying his head on my shoulder. He sniffed. “Now look what you did.” He dabbed his eyes. “You got me going, too.”

I hugged him. “I love you.”

He put an arm around my shoulder. “I love you, too.”

I smiled.

“Ri-Ri?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think I have a past life, too?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “What do you think?”

“I think,” he said, bumping me with his hip, “that I’m the reincarnated Marilyn Monroe!”

I laughed.

“One more question,” he said. “What are you going to do about Kim and Whitley?”

I sighed. “Nothing. I can’t afford to think about a relationship if someone’s after me.”

“Whatever.” Q rolled his eyes. “You are so hot for Kim.”

I felt my cheeks burn. “I am not.”

“Liar, liar,” he sang. “I could cut the heat in the salon with a knife. I know that guy greases your gears. Hell, he greases mine, and all I get to do is look at him.”

I grinned. “Both guys
are
fun to look at.”

“This is true.” Q grinned back. “All I’m saying is that, for once, you need to listen to your heart. Because your head is all screwed up.”

I frowned. “Thanks a lot.”

“Your heart knows what it wants. Just listen, okay?”

I suddenly felt nervous. Was the voice in my head not a different person at all, but the voice of my heart? Doubtful. I mean, if it was really my heart talking, wouldn’t it tell more about who to love and less about whose ass to kick? “I wish I was as confident about it as you are.”

He cast a tortured look up toward the ceiling. “Oh God in heaven, what did I do to deserve such an exasperating best friend?”

“Stop it!” I swatted at him.

“Then listen to me,” Quentin said. “True love, the stuff in the fairy tales, it’s really out there! I’m not saying that Kim is the one for you. I don’t know him well enough for that, but you would be stupid not to try and find out. Please, Ri-Ri.” He grabbed my hands. “I couldn’t bear it if you let another opportunity pass you by.”

I gave him another squeeze. “Sorry I’m such a pain in the ass.”

He shrugged. “You’ll always be my best friend. This samurai business—it doesn’t change a thing.”

I gave him one last hug before sliding out of the booth. I hoped he was right.

33

I
arrived at the dojo a little before four, and again cars filled the parking lot. Like the previous night, I walked into a lobby full of parents watching their children in the dojo through the separating glass. The only difference from last night was that the children training in the dojo with Kim were much younger, maybe around five or six.

Five girls about my age, with designer purses and heavily applied makeup, eyed me as I moved closer to the glass. When I looked in their direction, they huddled together, whispering.

“Which one are you here to pick up?”

I turned to the plump brunette girl who had walked up next to me. Her thick glasses magnified her eyes to the point of making me dizzy.

“Which one?” she repeated, jutting a hand at the class going on in the dojo. Her other hand clutched a key chain that contained more plastic bobbles and dangles than actual keys.

“Excuse me?” I asked.

“Which kid? Isn’t one of them your brother or sister?”

“Oh!” I laughed and shook my head. “None of them. I don’t have any siblings.”

A couple of the girls in the designer-purse crowd leaned in to listen.

“I’m here because my little brother takes lessons,” the girl continued. “My mom makes me pick him up. I don’t mind because his instructor is really hot.” She smiled.

I looked out into the dojo and locked eyes with Kim. He grinned, and my body temperature rose immediately. From my peripheral vision, I could tell that I was on the receiving end of several dirty looks.

“I know I don’t have a shot with him.”

I reluctantly brought my attention back to the girl beside me.

“You see how pretty all those girls are?” She inclined her head toward the glaring clique. “Every one made a play for him, and he rejected them all.” She grinned again. “It was pretty funny.”

“I’ll bet.” I grinned back.

Kim chose that moment to surprise the both of us by appearing at my side. “Patricia,” he said, smiling, “I see you’ve met our school’s new instructor.”