Summer Memory

Chapter 2 Part 1

            It was a humid evening in Manila. The city’s bright lights pushed the night’s darkness at bay, and the glare of the neon signs and traffic lights filled my eyesight with so much to look at. Our department, BS Architecture, held its conference here in Quezon City, where the main headquarters of the UAPSA was located. The UAPSA stood for the United Architects of the Philippines Student Auxiliary, and it was a compulsory-attended event for all BS Architecture students of the Batangas State University. We were all eating dinner together, me and my block mates, when I decided to separate from them to get some coffee at a nearby Starbucks. I could somehow manage to get back to our hotel on my own, since I actually paid close attention to the place in order not to get lost in a foreign territory.

            I ordered a caramel macchiato from Starbucks, and sat at a far corner outside. I was in a mood for coffee tonight, I needed to drive away the pestering drowsiness that plagued me in order to finish the literary article I was working on. I set my eyes in the busy traffic on the streets. It was noisy, but it was strangely comforting, like a great background song to end my busy day.

            I was halfway finished downing my macchiato when a girl burst out through the door holding a frappuccino. The girl made steady yet deliberate steps in my direction. Without as much as a word, she collapsed on the chair opposite me in one swift fluid motion, placing her frappuccino on the table. After a brief second, she held her head in her hands, and sobbed quietly.

            I was shocked at this sudden development. I mean, it’s not exactly everyday you meet a random girl crying with a frappuccino in Starbucks who suddenly decides to take a seat across you without so much as a glance back at you. I continued to stare at her, and after a minute of internal debating and hesitation, I moved closer to her and ran my hand through her long brown locks in a comforting manner. The girl doesn’t even flinch away.

            She continued her sobbing fit for a few more minutes. The peculiar scene earned me and the girl curious looks from the few customers lounging idly outside. I paid them no heed as I focused my attention on the girl before me.

            She began to calm down afterwards, and started to wipe the tears that had cascaded down her cheeks. Streaks of eyeliner and mascara ran down her face, her makeup immaculately ruined. But what shocked me was not her disheveled appearance of messy hair and smeared makeup, but the fact that even though she looked her worst right now, she was still beautiful. Her brown eyes looked into mine. She then broke our brief eye contact as she sheepishly took her frappuccino and took a long sip. She looked over in my direction once again.

            “…”

            Even with the dim surroundings, I saw her face flushed a deep shade of pink. I was pretty sure that was not because of the blush-on. She hurriedly reached into her purse and wiped the smeared makeup on her face with a handkerchief. She managed to clean her face of her ruined makeup. Well, most of it.

            “…Umm, sorry. Matagal ka na bang nakaupo dyan?” she asked. (T/N: “…Umm, sorry. Have you been sitting there for a while?”)

            “Ah, oo. Nagkakape ako nung bigla ka na lang umupo dyan. Nagulat nga ako. Hindi mo yata ako napansin,” I replied. She bowed her head down in embarrassment. (T/N: “Ah, yeah. I was having coffee when you suddenly just sat there. I was surprised. You didn’t seem to notice me.”)

            “Aaaah… sorry, kuya…” (T/N: Kuya means ‘older brother’ in Tagalog, usually used to address older teenage guys.)

            I shook my head and replied to her softly.

            “Ayos lang yun. Mukhang problemado ka kasi. Baka nga ako pa yung nakaistorbo sa ‘yo dito.” (T/N: "It’s fine. You looked problematic. It looks as if I may be the one bothering you.”)

            We fell into an awkward silence, with her drinking from her frappuccino, and me taking a sip from my macchiato, which by now has grown cold.

            The girl then stood up, wiping a little bit more of ruined makeup left on her face, and said to me.

            “Kuya, wait lang. Dito ka lang ha?” (T/N: “Kuya, just wait. Stay here, alright?”)

            She then proceeded to walk back inside the Starbucks establishment. That was when I thought to myself ‘Luc! This is your chance! Just walk away now and pretend none of this ever happened!’ I motioned to get out of my chair when I decided against it. It wouldn’t be right to run away from a troubled-looking girl who asked me to wait here. And besides, things have already escalated to this level. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t damn curious as to what will happen next.

            I took another sip of my cold coffee when I saw the girl come out again. I saw her sigh, perhaps of relief that I didn’t just take off when she left, as she made her way to my – our – table, carrying a tray. She put the tray on the round table and placed a plate of pastry between us. I raised an eyebrow unconsciously. It was my favorite pastry here in Starbucks: a cinnamon roll.

            She motioned for me to grab a knife and fork from the tray. “Tara, share tayo,” the girl said in a small voice. (T/N: “C’mon, let’s share.”) I smiled and gladly sliced a portion of the extra large serving of the pastry. I graciously ate a bite. I savored the sweet and crunchy bread in my mouth. The girl then took her own knife and ate a portion.

            After we finished the cinnamon roll, we just sat there in a comfortable silence. You might think it strange that two people who have never crossed paths before to share a ‘comfortable’ silence, but it was what I felt. We drank each other’s presence, partly thankful for the darkness that veiled our faces in jagged shadows.

            “Sorry sa istorbo kuya. Naabala pa kita,” the girl said after a while. (T/N: “Sorry for the trouble kuya. I even bothered you.”)

            “Ayos lang, di naman ako nagmamadali o kung ano,” I replied with a soft smile. (T/N: “It’s fine, I’m not in a hurry or anything anyway.”)

            Another round of silence descended upon us. I was surely intrigued by this girl – this girl whom I thought pretty even with smeared makeup, drinking mocha frappuccino (I noticed eventually) and generously sharing an expensive pastry with a complete stranger. I hesitated to voice my interest, as I knew that prying in someone else’s private matters was very rude. However, my growing curiosity won me over, and I mustered the courage to ask her the question I knew she’d rather left unanswered.

            “Bakit ka umiiyak?” (T/N: “Why were you crying?”)

***Author's note: Yes, the conversations are not in English, but are in my native tongue. I had originally wrote the story that way, only providing the direct English translation immediately along the story. Hope you don't mind. XD Leave a comment and vote!