She grins. “You know what? You’re right. You’re a fucking genius.”
And there goes another gulp of beer.
“They should have left me alone back there,” she continues. “Actually, they should have left me alone back in Alaska. Then my life would still be the same. I wouldn’t be in this mess.”
She sets her mug down, tapping her fingers against the wet glass.
“Do you know how it feels like to feel like there’s something wrong with you all your life?”
I let out a deep breath. This hits a little too close to home. “Believe me. I do.”
“And then it turns out, something is wrong with you.”
“Says who?”
“I know it,” Clarissa answers. “I don’t just feel it. I just don’t know exactly what it is and I’m afraid to find out because what if I can’t fix it?”
“Do you have to fix it?”
She gives me a weird look. “Toshi, if there’s something wrong, then it has to be fixed. Don’t the Japanese do that?”
“Not everything can be fixed. However, everything can be looked at from a different angle. Maybe you just have to think that there’s nothing wrong with you or anyone for that matter. Maybe there’s no wrong or right person. Maybe you’re just who you’re meant to be.”
Her eyes grow wide as she nods. “Wow...I didn’t know you could say stuff like this.” She looks at me. “Are you sure you’re not drunk?”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “You’re the one who’s drunk.”
“No, I’m not,” she argues, taking another sip.
“Since you’re asking about the Japanese, let me tell you something.” I lean forward. “You know what makes the Japanese people formidable?”
“Their tech? Sushi? That samurai spirit?”
“All of these things you mentioned are part of Japanese culture, of Japanese identity. The Japanese have a distinct identity. They know who they are and they’re proud of it. That’s why they’re great.”
She puts up a finger. “Let me guess. You’re going to tell me to embrace my identity.”
“All I’m saying is that running away from your identity makes it your weakness. Embracing it makes it your strength.”
Her finger waves, the corners of her lips turning up. “Now, you’re sounding like Sebastian.”
“Who?” My forehead creases. She hasn’t mentioned a Sebastian once today. One of the other primals I suspect. I hate him already.
“Except you actually make more sense.” She strokes the handle of her mug. “Or maybe I just like you more.”
She lifts her mug for another sip.
I like the idea of being liked, especially being liked more than someone else. Take that Sebastian whoever you are.
OK, maybe I am a little drunk.
“Toshi, are you proud of yourself?” she asks suddenly.
I take the question seriously and nod. “Yeah. Pretty much.”
“And what’s the craziest thing you ever found out about yourself?”
I cock my head to one side. “Oh. Now, this is an interview?”