Monday began with the familiar sound of notification after notification.
Their group chat had been unusually active since seven in the morning.
🧍🏻♀️🧍🏻♀️🧍🏻♀️🧍🏻♀️🧍♂️🧍🏻♀️🧍🏻♀️🧍🏻♀️🧍🏻♀️
Gwen: He's boarding.
Christine: 🥹
Nica: He really left that early?
Gwen: 7:10 flight.
Yves: Safe travels, @Chico.
A few seconds later...
Chico: Already at the gate.
Chico: Thanks again for this weekend. 😊
Francheska: Take care.
Lindtsey: Send us photos when you get home.
Chico: Will do.
Aiah: You're really leaving already? 😔
Chico: Don't make it sound permanent.
Chico: I'll be back.
Gwen: Exactly.
Gwen: His return to the US isn't even finalized yet.
Gwen: He'll probably visit again.
Christine: Or...
Christine: We visit Cebu. 👀
Nica: I support this idea.
Yves: Same.
Francheska: Same.
Lindtsey: We should.
Chico: See? Problem solved.
Chico: Now go to class.
Christine: Bossy.
Chico: Someone has to be.
By lunchtime, campus had settled into its usual rhythm.
Professors.
Deadlines.
Students rushing from one building to another.
The Antipolo trip already felt like it had happened weeks ago instead of just two days earlier.
The girls decided to meet at the gazebo that afternoon.
It had been a while.
Between exams, organization work, presentations, and endless requirements, the eight of them hadn't been able to simply sit together and do nothing.
For once...
There wasn't an agenda.
Just each other.
Everyone arrived one after another.
Christine was the first to complain.
"I forgot what fresh air feels like."
"You walked here," Yves said.
"I suffered."
"You crossed one pathway."
"It was uphill."
"It wasn't."
"It felt uphill."
YOU ARE READING
My Last And My Only
FanfictionIf it's not you, it's not anyone, Aiah. Remember that.
