I awkwardly hold Rico's shirt at the back. Now, I feel embarrassed to accept his helping hand...except for my two cheeks which are frankly blushing in heat even though the sun has already lost its shine. My face is on fire even though the wind's blow slaps against them in every pedal of Rico on the bicycle.
Nadadaanan namin ang mga hili-hilerang acacia sa gilid ng kalsada. The bike turns in to the first block. Kita ang berdeng sign na sa Sourlace street nga iyon. Hindi nagtagal, may mga bahay na rin kaming nasusulyapan.
Walang umiimik ni isa para bumasag sa komportableng katahimikan. Mas nadagdagan tuloy ang mga kantang likhang-isip mula sa ingay ng mga kuliglig sa paligid.
He halts, puts my arms around his waist, and glances at me. Inalis ko agad ang mga kamay roon. Nagsalubong ang mga kilay kong bumaling sa kaniya.
“Baka kasi mahulog ka,” malumanay niyang sabi.
Lumunok ako sa hiya. “Hindi kailangan ng gano'n.”
It's a balmy afternoon, after all. Under the shade of a huge acacia tree while its tiny leaves are falling instantly, we are two young teens, both in our fifteen years of age, are staring at each other; with me openly expressing my long-time hatred and the other filled with confusion in his eyes.
The worse thing is, I didn't even bother to dodge his stares. Maybe, I've known myself having a mere attraction towards him in the past but new sensation lurks inside my sanity. The worst, I'm afraid to put a name on it.
Tumango siya. Mabagal. His eyelids droop. “Hold me tight, then.”
He continues pedaling the bicycle until we reach the rusty gate of my house. Agad akong bumaba. Akmang aalalayan pa niya sana ako.
“Salamat,” ani ko.
Hindi ko na siya nilingon pa. I quickly open the steel lock of our gate.
“No prob—”
Pabalibag kong sinarado ang gate. I bite my lip as I put my ear near the gate's surface. It's only the noise from the vehicles passing by. Halos puro berde na sa paligid ko: ang mga halaman, nilulumot na fountain, at ang bahay at bubong na tinapalan ng berdeng pintura.
Hindi pa siya umaalis?
After minutes of contemplating whether I should open the gate or not, I hear a wheel shrieking against the road. Parang inililiko na niya. Okay naman pala e. Hindi ko na 'to kailangang buksan pa ulit.
I walk inside our two-storey house. Nasalubong ko si Mama sa sala, nag-gagantsilyo. Bukas ang TV. Hindi naman siya nanonood. Eksena ng nag-uusap na mag-ina ang nasa palabas.
I rolled my eyes. I hate watching those kind of teledramas. The heart-to-heart talks and cheesy yet comforting lines that the characters say cannot even be heard in real life scenarios.
I kiss her cheeks, even though I only get to see the same reaction – blank eyes that haven't touch affection for a while.
After I had my dinner, I immediately took a shower. Habang naririnig ko ang daloy ng tubig na lumalabas sa faucet, hindi mapigilang maglakbay ng isipan ko.
Why did I see him again when I was on the verge of forgetting his face? Hindi ko naman maaalala lahat kung hindi ko na siya ulit nakita pa. Pagkatapos kasi ng nangyari sa quadrangle, lagi na lang siyang sumusulpot kung saan-saan.
It's been a long day. A tiring one, honestly. I've never been so drained like this, both physical and emotional. I jump on the bed after. A plain ceiling is the only witness for the whole night to my promises about avoiding Rico as much as possible from now on.
BINABASA MO ANG
The Seat We Sit On (HFS #1)
Novela JuvenilFreesia Mandeville has a habit of writing and doodling anywhere in Collins High School. May it be on the walls, chairs, and even on the comfort room's newly painted doors; even on the seat she's sitting on in their classroom as a silent rebellion ag...
