“You’ll do that for me?” Mabel asked Fran in disbelief.
Fran regarded Mabel’s tear-stained cheeks with sadness. She wasn’t used to seeing her bestfriend like this. Mabel was always the cheerful one, never letting anything or anyone dampen her mood. And she was the fighter. It was from her that Fran learned to be feisty. When they were eight years old, Fran was constantly teased by the neighborhood boys because of her thinness. They only stopped when Mabel gave the biggest boy a blackeye.
“Mabs, you know I’d do anything for you.”
When they were highschool sophomores, a lot of boys were attracted to Fran except that most of them were intimidated by her brains. The only guy who had the guts to court her and had the brains to match hers turned out to be an intellectual bully and a stalker. Fran didn’t know what Mabel said or did to him but he suddenly started to avoid her.
“Frannie, I can’t believe you actually know him…..and he’s courting you?”
Now that they were in college, Fran’s appeal to the smart and cute guys suddenly shot up. There was Jeremy, the tall, bedimpled EE major whose company Fran enjoyed so much. And there was Gavin, the quiet BA major who turned a lot of heads, both from girls and boys. They were introduced by a common friend when they were freshmen. And there were the chance encounters on campus. They seemed to bump into each other so often, it seemed more than coincidence. And so they got to talk – in the library, in the foodcourt, along the hallways on their way to the next class, and even by the fishball/squidball/isaw stall. But it was in a common subject, Arts and Humanities, that they became closer.
“Not courting …at least not yet. He did say he likes me.”
“Frannie, you don’t need to do anything.”
“Mabs, tuturuan ko lang siya ng leksyon. Pinaglaruan ka niya --- eh di, maglalaro din kami.”
“What if, ikaw ang masaktan?”
Fran snorted. “Hindi ah. Kanino ba ako natutong maging matapang?”
Mabel smiled faintly. “Basta ingat ka.”
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Gavin stared at Fran, unable to speak, his mind in a shock.
“I….I’m so…so sorry, Gavin.” Fran’s voice trembled.
He ran his fingers through his hair and slowly shook his head. “I can’t……..I can’t believe you did that.”
Fran lowered her head. “I was young….I wasn’t thinking……and I saw how hurt she was.”
“Hurt?” Gavin snapped at her. “There are always two sides to a story, Fran.” He stood up and started pacing the room, his tension bouncing off the walls. Fran watched him, afraid to say anything.
He stopped and faced her, hands in his pockets. “Why only now?”
Fran’s brows wrinkled. “What do you mean?”
“Why didn’t you tell me this – when you broke up with me back then? Why only now?” His voice sounded hoarse.
Fran grasped her arm for support, suddenly feeling weak. “I was afraid.”
