Galimgim

/10/ Coffee and Calculus

So, here we were, and he was explaining Calculus 1 to me. 

"If it asks for the differential of w with respect to x, you should find a way to rewrite it like that," Christian said patiently.

I tried to listen, but honestly---studying with him was a mistake. I couldn't focus. My mind kept wandering, especially with him this close. I never imagined seeing him at this distance, and now that I do, it feels surreal.

He looked at me every now and then, which only made me more tense. Why do I feel this way?

"Did you understand?" he asked suddenly.

I blinked, caught off guard. He sighed. "Focus, Iris."

How did he know my nickname? No one in our class ever called me that.

I forced myself to pay attention. I slipped a few times, but I pushed myself back on track. After an hour, we wrapped up. I should've been relieved, but instead, I felt disappointed. I wanted more time with him.

"Thank you," I said sincerely. He really did make the lesson clearer. 

"You're welcome." He wasn't much of a talker, but he was kind.

*

"I was just thinking," Christian spoke again. "What if we have a sleepover?"

My heart skipped. Sleepover? Just the two of us? 

"It's not what you think, Iris. We'll study there."

I exhaled in relief---or maybe frustration. Either way, I agreed. "Okay, I'm glad you want to do it with me!"

We decided to meet at his apartment. I kept reminding myself: You're going to study, Iris. Nothing else. 

His place was spotless, just as I expected from someone who dressed so neatly. He offered me juice when we arrived---such a thoughtful gesture.  If he kept this up, I was going to fall harder than I already had. 

He even cooked for us. I used to think he was too studious to bother with food, but I was wrong. While he busied himself in the kitchen, I tried to review, but I realized I'd grown too dependent on him. I scolded myself---He won't always be around. You need to stand on your own.

Still, when he sat beside me, my focus altered again. He glanced at my notes.

"Already finished this?" he asked.

"Yeah, it's easy," I answered, referring to Science, Technology, and Society.

He nodded "I need not to review that either."

Of course, he made everything look effortless. 

We ate dinner---he was surprisingly good cook---and studied late into the night. By ten, my eyelids felt heavy, but I refused to give in. Who cared beauty sleep when my grades mattered more? 

"What do you want your coffee like?" he asked, now in casual clothes that somehow made him look even more handsome.

"No sugar." I told him.

He returned with two mugs, and we studied some more, quizzing each other during breaks. My chest felt warm---not just from the coffee, but from the way he explained things so clearly. Being taught by your favorite person really did make everything easier. 

Finally, at midnight, he closed his book. "We'll stop here. We need rest."

I froze. Rest? Here? Together?

As if reading my thoughts, he said, "I can take the couch if you're not comfortable sharing the bed." 

My heart thumped. Letting him sleep on the couch in his own apartment felt wrong. "I don't mind sleeping with you."

He only nodded, as if it was nothing unusual. That stung a little.

We lay down. His bed was wide enough that we weren't even exactly close, but for some reason, that made me feel lonelier. 

I drifted off eventually, only to wake at dawn to the smell of coffee.

"Good morning," he said with a smile, a mug in hand.

*

"Coffee?" he asked, already busy preparing it. I just nodded. As if I could say no when his back was turned and he was already pouring it. 

My thoughts wandered in directions I couldn't control. Get it together, Iris. He's just being nice to you! Enjoy it while it lasts.

"You can take a bath in my bathroom," he said casually. 

I blushed. Sharing space with him like this felt too personal, too surreal. 

My mornings usually followed a routine: an hour of reading self-help books (now cut down to 20 minutes), thirty minutes of writing stories, and meditation that once lasted twenty minutes but had shrunk to 10. Exercise came last, though for me, that usually just meant walking to school.

To my surprise, he had similar habits. He read books too, though not self-help. His choices leaned toward mentoring and leadership. 

"So, you want to be a leader someday? Maybe even president of the Philippines?" I teased.

He laughed, but to my shock answered, "Yes."

He caught me meditating and said he'd like to join me some time. I agreed without hesitation. Just the thought of sharing that quiet with him made me smile. 

I managed to write three hundred words for my story that morning, though most of the time was spent planning the next chapter. I never liked long stories anyway. I preferred short stories with meaning.

We ate breakfast together, and once again, his cooking surprised me. He joked that he should've offered me milk instead of coffee. I told him I was fine with coffee.

We studied for nearly two hours before heading to school. His apartment was only a short walk away, and I insisted on being ten minutes early, as always.

When the exam began, relief washed over me. Staying up late paid off---I did well.

Afterwards, things slipped back to normal. We were both busy with exams, and I skipped lunch to keep studying.

"You know, studying with an empty stomach isn't good," a voice said.

I didn't need to look up. I already knew it was him. Until now, I hadn't realized he never skipped meals.

"Who cares if I eat lunch but still fail?" I muttered, eyes fixed on my notes. 

"I do," he answered. 

That made me look up---surprised, almost shaken.