My Other Me

Dakota and I grabbed dinner at a Japanese restaurant called Sho Mi. The whole restaurant arrangement was weird. When we arrived I kept asking Dakota questions like “We have to pay before we eat?” and “how do they know it’s our order when we sit down? How will they find us?”
She just replied with: “You definitely aren’t from around here, kid,” Then ordered for the both of us at the counter. Behind the counter was a petite Asian. She had her hair pulled back in a messy bun and her glasses laid low on her small nose. I noticed she was wearing the same white shirt that a lot of the employees were wearing that said “Got Sushi?” on the front. It amused me.
The petite Asian girl gave Dakota cash back and we sat down at a booth with squishy gray cushions. Nailed to the pale yellow walls were paintings with dark brown backgrounds and blue or red and occasional white lines and squares. Dakota set her receipt down at the edge of the table.
“You’re not going to keep that?” I asked her with more questions filling my dark eyes.
“That’s how the waitress knows what we ordered,” she replied as she adjusted herself into her seat.
“Oh,” was all I said, and sure enough another petite Asian wearing the same shirt as the girl behind the counter came to our table, took the receipt of the edge and scurried away. “I have never been to a Japanese restaurant before. Do all of them serve food like this?”
“Like here? No, no. Maybe some, but I wouldn’t know. I just like coming here because they have the best sushi in Stockton.” She said as she decided to slink off her faded black jacket. It was pretty warm in the restaurant.
I crinkled my noise, “I never ate sushi before, either” I commented.
“Ha, well you’re about to. This is Cali, you got to get used to it,” she shrugged, “It’s really good, I promise.”
“All right, I’m trusting you here,” I teased.
She held up her right hand and crossed two fingers together, “Scouts honor,” she said and we both laughed.
“So I have to ask,” she started to say, and I encouraged her to go further with the look on my face, “How’d you meet Xavier Sorren?”
“Oh God, how did I know you were going to bring this up?” I laughed.
“I know, I know! I couldn’t help myself, but seriously, how’d you meet?” She pressed her hands flat on the table.
“I don’t know? I was just trying to find our dorm and he came over and helped me out,” I shrugged, “Not much to tell.”
“Really? That is so unlike him…”
“What do you mean?” I urged her to continue.
“Well, X just usually floats on by. He never really stops to check the scenery. If you know what I mean,” She said.
“Erm, no, I really don’t know what you mean,” I tilted my head to the side; my dark hair tickled my neck. It’s a habit I cant quit when I get confused. I always thought I looked dumber when I did so.
“Well, Xavier is the kind of guy who has many acquaintances and few little friends. So for him to spot you out of a crowd, probably means he saw something special in you, but hey, what do I know? Maybe I’m just trying to create a story in my head,” She played with the collar of her jacket that lay neatly across her lap.
The waitress came back with our drinks. I thanked her and took a sip of my coke while I contemplated what Dakota said. “Does he have a girlfriend?” I finally asked. The question was itching in the back of my mind.
Her smile was huge, showing all her grand white teeth, “So you are interested!” I bit my lip in reply, “Nope, he’s free as a bird,” she said and cool relief washed over my body.
“I mean, I barely know the guy, I just wanted to know…” She saw right through my excuse.
“Sure,” She said, and the waitress came over and set two rolls of sushi in front of us. It had assorted fish on top of every roll and shredded radish, orange and green sauce splatters complimented the sophisticated look. In a separate dish she handed us were thin slices of ginger and Wasabi. She also gave each of us a small porcelain plate and a very small bowl with intricate blue fish designed on the edges.
I waited until the waitress left before I said: “This looks horrifying.”, as I pointed at the square plate full of sushi. Dakota laughed as she poured soy sauce into her little bowl and mixed Wasabi in it with her chop sticks. I mimicked what she did.
“Not too much, Trust me,” she said when I reached for the Wasabi. I took her advice and only took a little bit of the green clump.
I dipped a roll in the soy sauce and then took a small bite of it. The taste surprised me at first. It was smooth to my palate, and not as chewy as I thought it would be. I swallowed, finished the piece, then took another piece once I decided that I liked it.
“So what’s the verdict?” Dakota asked me, covering her mouth, because it was full.
“Surprisingly delicious,” I said, and took the second piece into my mouth.

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It was around midnight when we were heading back to our dorm. Dakota offered to show me Stockton because classes didn’t start for another two days. She was a lot more welcoming then I thought my roommate would be. Back in New Hampshire, my friend, Melanie, told me her roommate was an epic bitch.
As we were driving, fog rose from the ground, making it harder to see outside. I stared out the window, but the only thing I could see clearly was my reflection. I zoned out, listening to the light buzz from the radio. Then something flashed through the window. It was a face with a distorted, sinister smile and a sickening look of blood in it eyes. I gasped as I realized it was my own face.
“What’s wrong?” Dakota asked as she swerved her car slightly in her state of surprise.
“Oh nothing, I was zoning out and I thought I saw something outside. Sorry,” I replied as calmly as I could, but my blood still felt frozen in my veins.
“Oh, don’t be sorry. I better get you home. You must be beat and jet lagged,” She said, paying more attention to the road.
“Yeah, I think so too,” was all I said as I stared at the window trying to see if I could see the face again, but all I saw was my confused stare looking back at me.