Our Chances

Three

I knew Claude Collins because of Yoana. 

They're cousins, and as much as I could remember Yoana told me a lot about how he is a very sweet and kind cousin, and that he was 'the best cousin in the world'. Yoana told me that she couldn't thank God enough for giving him this elder-brother acting Claude in his life. I heard a lot about him but I never knew him personally until my first year in high school.

Yoana decided to end up my wondering on how Claude looked like by inviting me to join their snack session every week. When I saw him, I never expected him to look that handsome and I bet that was one of Yoana's reasons why she was ever-so-thankful for him because she could then boast to everyone that he has a good-looking, sweet, gentleman, and kind cousin that no one else could have.

As we went on our snack his eyes caught the most of my attention that I actually forgot that my order was a burger and not a pizza, but I didn't mind anyway. He was very friendly and nice. In fact, I admired the way he talked to me even though we just knew each other's names that day. He also told me that Yoana told him stories about me as this best friend that is oh-so-precious and irreplaceable.

Weeks, or months even, went by and our friendship grew. He studied in a different school but Yoana always brought me with her on their weekly snack sessions so we got a chance to know more about each other. He is a year ahead of me, so when I was a freshman, he was a sophomore. There were also times that Yoana couldn't attend the snack session, but he always went on with the plan and liked to eat out with only me, too. I didn't feel anything at the beginning aside from feeling light and happy when I'm around him because really, he was a good companion. He was outgoing and funny and that  made our eat outs really good. We suddenly became each other's sidekick until we officially recognized each other as 'partners in crime'. We eventually felt comfortable with each other and finally called each other friends.  Later on, our hearts grew and we opened up to each other, and since I am not really good at dealing with boys, he helped me reach out to the ones I liked. Other than that, I finally told him my secrets, like, every. Single. Bit. About everything and anything. Likewise he was to me. Everyone who knew him and knew me thought we were together, like together-together. And it was quite tiring for us to tell everyone that we were just very close friends. But none of us decided to stop our public display of affection. He said, "You're my friend, I'm your friend. We are comfortable with each other and we shouldn't be embarrassed of our friendship because of their shitty tell-tales."

He was good-looking, smart, wise, sweet, kind, loving and caring that I couldn't ever forget the night I realized I was already into him. A year later, there was this guy in their class whom I really liked. He was James. I told Claude that I liked James and I expected him to help me talk to him, but it was unusual of him that he didn't. When I told him, he was meh. His face was blank. So, I asked him what went wrong.

"I know this guy James too well and I don't like him." He turned his back from me, though he didn't literally walked away from me. We were strolling that time. "We may talk a lot but honestly, I don't like him. He's rude, proud, despicable. He's a player. And honestly again, I don't like him. For you."

I was confused. Not on what he said because I totally understood it, but on how he reacted and responded to what I said to him about what I felt. I thought, "When has he ever been this protective to me from boys?"  because he had never been. This was the first time he declined my attempt on talking to a guy I liked. And I found it strange.

"Why are you like this to me?" I blurted, though I never wanted to ask that question that seemed personal.

He looked at me. He focused his eyes on mine and held my shoulders with his hands, and spoke so rapid and serious and real. "Listen, London. I have been helping you reach out to these guys that you like, but even though I always help you, it doesn't mean I already like those guys for you. I don't know why I had to pretend to be so excited in helping you, but I have realized that I should no longer pretend, and I should awaken you instead. I'm supposed to be your friend and I'm supposed to be your eye, but sadly I failed, but I'd like to still be your eye. London, wake up. None of these guys deserve you because you are more that just an expensive Prada or a 1.2 billion-dollar champagne. You deserve someone whose worth is more than the most expensive car on the earth you're stepping on. You deserve someone like me who would care so much about the one he loves more than anything. Someone like me who'd wait for a woman no matter how long it takes, as long as the love is genuine. Real. Pure. Look for someone like me, and start to admire someone like me, not these good-looking and kind-appearing men who are actually douchebags!" He lost grip and walked on. "Fuck this. I'm tired. I'm tired of your shitty thoughts on about assholes. I'm going to bring you back to your home. Get enough sleep. You have classes tomorrow."

As honest as I can be, I was completely still as I processed everything he said. Everything he pointed out on him. And me. Everything that made me think, "Does he like me?" because my heart fluttered so hard I felt it thumping my chest. And while he said that I should find someone like him, I realized that I don't need to find someone like him, because I found him, and he was in front of me. 

When I was already home, I couldn't stop remembering and thinking everything he said. And I, again, thought, "Does he like me?"

He didn't make this thing clear. He said to find someone like him, but the girl he was referring to was so general that it may not be me. Or, was he just scared to to directly refer to me? I didn't jump in to a conclusion about how he might felt for me. But I was entirely sure that I like him.

One year later that incident, I was already a junior and he was already a senior. We were still friends, but our friendship wasn't like how it used to be when I was a freshman. I was still into him, but somehow, we no longer reached out to each other and so I thought that maybe he didn't need me anymore. Slowly, I distanced myself from him to find out if he would notice. But he didn't. So he didn't care about our friendship. 

Also, on that year, he already had a girlfriend. She was a freshman in their school. I never thought he liked girls that are too young.

Because he already had a new partner in crime, I resisted on ever talking to him not because I was jealous, but because I realized that he finally had someone who'd be his girlfriend, and at the same time his crime-partner, best friend, confidant, adviser, and everything he ever wanted in his life and it wasn't me. And for so long that I had distanced myself from him, he never reached out to me ever since. It was confirmed that he didn't care any longer about me.

It hurt so bad to think that we were friends, and we were each other's everything that we didn't need to be in a relationship to be so. I really thought that his girlfriend was just his rebound of me because I really thought he liked me, and that he was just so afraid to tell me so.

Yet everything I thought about how he really felt was unreal.