Seasons in Life

vi. 'tis the damn season.

The numbers on the Excel sheet greeted me as soon as I opened the computer. It's back to reality and Bridget is already by my side, not elated by the numbers. I have a love and hate relationship with my profession—accountant—and accounting isn't my first choice; I picked this for practicality.

Living in poverty, I set aside my passion and dreams and chose practicality because, in today's world, money is important, and according to society and my parents, my passion can't provide me food and money for the bills.

I wanted to pursue psychology, but it just tends to be looked down on in my country, which discourages me because they always say I don't have a future in it and that there will be no opportunities; thus, I urge myself to study accounting.

"How do things go with Ivan?" Bridget asked as we exited the company to have lunch. We have a favorite place to have lunch—Rochelle Canteen. The vicinity is peaceful and relaxing, and the food is to die for. "Are you still seeing each other after what happened last New Year's Eve? It's been a week and I mean, its sweet that he still thought of you as his person; imagine that after all these years he still likes you."

"He didn't say he liked me," I responded as I sat at our usual spot—outside, with the lush green leaves on our side—and the sunlight perfectly hit us with breezy air lingering in the air.

"Oh, please." She playfully rolled her eyes at me as her fingertips scanned the menu. "That's the same thing, Lav, same thing."

"Yeah, maybe," I shrugged off, scanning the menu. "Ivan and I haven't seen each other since then because both of us are busy with work but we exchange messages."

"Ah, so this is why you're sleeping late." Bridget smirked, giving me a knowing look and I playfully rolled my eyes at her. "You have someone who keeps you late at night."

"I don't sleep late," I defended myself.

"Two in the morning is pretty late." 

"That was one time," I clarified. "It was the day after the new year happened; both of us can't sleep properly, hence we talked till two in the morning. We only talked till twelve in the morning; that's the max."

"Sure, whatever you say," Bridget smirked, never leaving our whole conversation with Ivan involved. She's always been a shipper to us, and after all those years, she is still a solid shipper.

Winter isn't the season I look forward to; it's not that, despite the season, it's not just my favorite. I can't wait for this damn season to be over because it makes me feel things; hence, it's making me spin my head. It's probably because of the memories but they keep coming back to me.

It's winter season when Ivan and I started our relationship, and the memories keep visiting—an unwelcome visitor that keeps knocking in the frontstep, one that I can't openly welcome.

My phone lights up and it was from Ivan, one that earned me a playful smirk from Bridget as she saw the name on my phone.

"Stop giving me that smile."

"What smile?" Bridget asked innocently. Her gaze went back to the computer as she continued to type. "What did your lover say?"

"Don't have one," I stated, swiping to open his message and getting an 'ooh,' from my best friend when I catched myself from the text. "Oh, stop that, Bri."

"Stop what, Lav?" Her smirking ghosted from the past, where everything was bearable and fine. "Come on, what did he say that got you blushing?"

"I'm not blushing!" I denied, even when I could feel my cheeks turning crimson.

"No need to be defensive, my friend."

"I'm not," I insisted. "And Ivan invited me for dinner tomorrow."

"Oh, someone has a date," Bridget teased. "You should shave."

"What?!" I half-shouted which made her giggle while I was taken aback by her words. "Besides, its not a date, its just a friendly one. Why on earth do you think I should shave?"

"Just in case," she shrugged, wiggling her eyebrow. "You know, if you get lucky."

I gasped and playfully hit her with my binder, to which her snicker got a little louder. "I assure you, we will have dinner and that's it; nothing will happen."

"And where will you two have a dinner?" Bridget asked. "In your favorite restaurant?"

"No," I paused. My adrenaline rushes as it hits me where we will be having dinner. "In his apartment."

"Yeah, you better take my advice."

"Oh, stop teasing!"

I hate this damn season and I definitely wouldn't follow Bridget's advice; we would only have dinner, that's all. Nothing will happen the way my best friend thinks.