Infinite Cashback System

Kumiko stayed pressed against Jordan’s side for another twenty minutes, and during that time she talked enough for six people. The girl operated like a dam had burst somewhere behind her sternum, and every thought she’d been suppressing for the past two weeks came pouring out in a single continuous stream of consciousness that jumped topics with the reckless abandon of a caffeinated squirrel.

"—and I have this recipe for castella cake that my grandmother taught me and I’ve been wanting to make it for someone but you can’t really make castella for one person because the pan is too big and it’s wasteful and sad to eat an entire castella alone at midnight while watching romance anime, which I’ve done four times this semester, but now I can make it for you and Chloe and we can eat it together while watching something and oh my god we should have a weekly movie night, all three of us, and we can take turns picking and—"

"Kumi." Chloe’s voice landed like a gentle hand on the back of a kitten’s neck. "Breathe."

"I’m breathing! I’m breathing very efficiently, actually, my cardio has improved since I started taking the stairs instead of the elevator because Alexis said the elevator makes your butt flat and I don’t think that’s scientifically—"

"Kumiko."

Kumiko inhaled. Her shoulders dropped two inches. "Sorry. I’m spiraling. My therapist calls it ’joy overwhelm’ and it happens when something I’ve wanted for a long time actually materializes and my nervous system doesn’t have a protocol for processing positive outcomes because historically—"

She stopped herself. Her mouth clamped shut. She sat there for a moment with her cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk holding back an entire paragraph, and Jordan could physically see the effort it took for her to swallow the remaining words instead of releasing them into the wild.

"I should go home," Kumiko said finally, her voice settling into something almost normal. Almost. A tiny vibrato still ran underneath every syllable, the aftershock of an emotional earthquake that had registered somewhere around a seven on whatever scale therapists used to measure romantic detonation events.

Jordan watched her uncurl from his side. She moved slowly, like she was peeling herself off something magnetic, and he could feel the exact moment her warmth left his body. The cool air rushed into the gap she’d occupied.

Kumiko stood and smoothed her plaid skirt with both palms. Her crop hoodie had ridden up during the extended couch session, and she tugged it down with a sharp yank that only made the fabric bounce back up half an inch above her navel. She gave up and left it there. Her twin tails had recovered from the kissing incident, mostly, though the left one hung slightly lower than the right because the ribbon Jordan had retied wasn’t quite the same tension as its partner.

She turned to Chloe first.

"Chloe-chan." Kumiko’s voice cracked on the honorific, and she threw both arms around Chloe’s neck with enough force to knock a smaller person off the couch entirely. Chloe caught her, hands coming up to Kumiko’s shoulder blades, and the two of them held each other in a hug that lasted longer than Jordan expected. He saw Kumiko’s fingers tighten against the back of Chloe’s oversized white t-shirt, bunching the fabric. Her face was buried in Chloe’s shoulder.

"Thank you," Kumiko whispered. The words were small and wet and genuine in a way that made Jordan’s throat tighten. "For not hating me. For choosing me. For being the best person I’ve ever—"

"Shut up before you make me cry and ruin the mascara I’m not wearing." Chloe’s voice was steady but her grip on Kumiko was hard enough that her knuckles had gone pale.

They separated. Kumiko’s eyes were glassy and she was blinking too fast, her lashes clumping together. She wiped her nose with the back of her wrist, sniffed once, and then pivoted toward Jordan with the decisive energy of someone launching off a diving board.

She stood in front of him. The top of her head barely reached his collarbone. Her brown eyes were still wet, still enormous, still reflecting the purple LED light from the streaming setup so that they looked almost luminous.

Kumiko rose onto her tiptoes, balanced on those ridiculous pink platform sneakers, placed one small hand on his chest for stability, and pressed her lips to his cheek.

The contact lasted maybe one and a half seconds. Her mouth was soft and warm and still tasted faintly of strawberry where her lip gloss had smeared. Jordan felt the impression of it remain on his skin like a sunburn after she pulled away.

"Bye, boyfriend."

The word hit different when Kumiko said it. Chloe had deployed the term with the confidence of someone signing a contract, a declaration of ownership and territory. Kumiko said it like she was tasting something sweet for the first time and couldn’t quite believe the flavor was real.

"Teehee."

She actually said teehee. Out loud. With her hands clasped behind her back and her weight rocking forward on her toes and a smile so wide that her eyes crinkled shut.

Jordan should have found it obnoxious. He should have rolled his eyes. He should have done literally anything except what he actually did.

"Bye, Kumi."

He reached out and placed his hand on top of her head.

The motion was automatic. His palm settled between her twin tails, his fingers spreading across the crown of her skull where her black hair parted into two silky rivers of ink.

The warmth of her scalp pressed into his palm through the thin strands, and Jordan felt something activate in his nervous system. A low hum that started in his wrist and traveled up his forearm, through his shoulder, and into the center of his chest before radiating outward through the points of contact between his hand and Kumiko’s head.

The Headpat trait engaged like a key turning in a lock.