“If it was you, why did you stop replying to me then?” I ask.
Until now, I still cannot believe it! Everything feels surreal, almost impossible. Like I have finally reached the farthest star. Like I have finally climbed the tallest mountain, swam the deepest sea, or kicked the person I hate the most in the face with all my might. Well, the last one seems the most attainable than the rest. Nonetheless, what are the odds that the guy I am catching feelings with is the same guy that became my outlet from all of the frustrations of this world through random scribbles on this seat which is the most inconceivable way ever?
Nangunot ang noo niya. His thick eyebrows meet up as he stare at me with confusion. He is already sitting on our seat. His back lays comfortably against the chair. Nakatayo lang ako sa tapat niya.
“Liban noong ako na ang laman ng mga sulat mo na ilang araw ko lang naman tiniis na hindi magsulat pabalik, I continued. Even yesterday in the afternoon.”
“Wala akong natanggap!”
“H-huh?”
“I swear!” I emphasize. “Mula noong unang huminto ka, Wala na.”
Umayos siya ng upo. His palm goes under his chin. His eyes fly to me while his head is slightly bowing down. Mas nadepina tuloy ang talim ng mala-lawin niyang mga mata. If I didn't have a slightest idea about him, I would probably think that he is already glaring at me.
“Maybe the daily cleaners remove them, kaya nakita rin ang mga sulat sa lamesa mismo,” sambit niya.
I grit my teeth. Si Owen!
When the clock is near twelve noon, I bid goodbye to Rico. We just agree to see each other on Saturday, the day of our punishments. It is easy, though. Pipinturahan lang naman namin para takpan ang mga sulat.
When Saturday arrives, I find myself inside Collins High School. May iilan akong mga kasama. Mabibilang lang sa sampung daliri. I have not seen Rico yet.
Sa pinakalikod ng campus, malapit sa abandonadong building, nakabalandara't nakahanay ang mga upuan at mesa. When I get near to one of those, I see some traces and strokes of pen against the smooth texture of metal, some on the woods. Ang mga ito ba ang pipinturahan namin?
I remember last year, ganito rin ang ginawang punishment noong malapit nang magtapos ang klase.
Maya-maya pa, kasama ang isang helper ng school at ilan pang student officers, dumating na rin si Rico. May bitbit din siyang lata ng pintura gaya ng iba. He is just wearing a casual shirt of plain dark blue. A light wash Levi's jeans is hugging his toned thighs.
Nagsalubong ang paningin namin. He raises his eyebrow and gives me a pursed smile. A pounding thud through my chest ricochets. I avert my glance, hiding the reddening of my face.
Out of the blue, a tap-tap-tap sound of wooden sandals on the floor echoes through the walls, through the hallways. Sinundan sila ng school principal. Pumapasok pala siya kahit Sabado?
A tidy bun of hair turning grey. Her makeup – light blush on her cheeks, crimson pigment on her lips, eyebrows are arched properly – is enough to project authority even when her face lacks strictness but a glint of smile. Pinasadahan ko ng tingin ang mapinong suot niyang uniporme. Parang pinlansiya nang maigi lalo na sa kwelyo, mga manggas, at slacks.
BINABASA MO ANG
The Seat We Sit On (HFS #1)
Teen FictionFreesia 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...
