“Kanpai!” We all clink our glasses and take polite sips. Well, I take a little more than a sip since it’ll take a little more than two classes to make a difference for our school. When the food comes, I dig right in. I devour my pumpkin soup, garden salad, and assortment of free hot buns as politely as I can muster. I nod and smile at everyone’s comments, but between my ravenous appetite and the number of times someone says “mmm, oishii!” I can’t think of anything to say. It’s a little hard when I have Lieko glaring daggers at me every time someone comments on how “oishii” the wine is.

Our waiter returns with several fellow employees and tiny plates of beef and ratatouille. Both my plates are empty while everyone is still crooning over theirs, so I discretely signal a nearby server for another round of bread. Everyone turns them down but marvels as I make room in my tummy for an orange bun, a matcha green tea bun, another small helping from the wine decanter, and some more pumpkin buns. I pretend not to overhear their comments about how much bread I plan to eat as I slather pumpkin bun number three with butter.

“Sugoi, Shibelle-sensei,” Misaki says with wide eyes. “You are so hungry! So much food! But Shibelle-sensei is still hungry!”

“‘Cybelle.’ And yes, I guess I’ve worked up an appetite.”

She turns the word “appetite” over a few times, then gives up. “Did Shibelle-sensei eat lunch today?”

Ugh. “Yes. I ate stir-fried rice.” Again.

“And breakfast?”

“I ate scrambled eggs and toast.”

“And yet you eat so much bread! America-jin no shokuyoku wa sugoi deshou?” She’s not asking me. She’s asking the other teachers. I look around the restaurant, pretending not to understand. I feel more and more uncomfortable when I realize that no other customers get their chairs pulled out for them. Well, don’t I feel even stupider. Desperate times …

“Mmm, yes, the bread is delicious,” I say. “I hope I still have room in my betsu bara for dessert!”

Everyone around me laughs. “Shibelle-sensei, you say ‘betsu bara!’ Sugoi!” Misaki giggles, covering her mouth. “Can you speak Japanese?”

“A little.”

“Eh, sugoi. How long you stay in Japan?”

“Um, about —”

“Uwaa!” Lieko looks down at her uneaten bun and goes on a loud tirade about how full she is and that she has no room for dessert. The conversation switches back to conversational Japanese as they exchange opinions about portion control and dieting. Whatever, I’m hungry.