The Sun, The Moon, and Their Stars

38 : Song

Kimberly

"Okay," he looks down with a grin. Then he runs his left hand through the fretboard and positions his fingers to strike a chord. "Here it goes," he says. And he starts strumming an intro.

I lift my head away from my hand and slowly drop my arm on the table. And I just stare at him, dumbfounded, as he plays my ultimate serenade song.

My friends and I had one of those conversations a couple of years back, about our favorite music given certain occasions. Lawrence asked for the best serenade song that will undoubtedly make me fall in love.

"Iris," I replied then.

Which is what Benjie is playing right now, and that's after I asked him to do what's on top of his mind. And this is what he thinks of. And my metaphorical heart is furiously beating along with the one inside my chest.

I've heard this song many times, so I know how it should go. He's memorized the chords and is in tune. He can't sing, though. His voice cracks, and he almost mumbles the lines, but that's alright.

He shyly smiles. "Sorry, I can't sing." And goes on with the song.

I just grin at him, unable to find the proper way to converse.

He strums the last chord and grins at me.

I just notice that I'm hugging myself, so I loosen up, and sit back on the chair.

"Thanks," I say.

"My pleasure, KP."

He returns the guitar on the makeshift set-up by the stairs. He comes back and sits there, looking far ahead through the large window into the view.

"I like that song," I say, looking ahead as well.

"Me too."

He takes his cellphone from the pocket of his jeans and smiles at the message he's reading. "It's my sister," he says. "She's begging me to tell her what's the reason behind the two flowers." Then he laughs. "No way, figure it out," he says to the phone as I assume it's his reply.

"You're mean," I say with a laugh.

"No," he says, putting away his phone and grinning at me. "I'm something else."

More people are inside when we leave Nigel's at about ten to five, says so on the clock near the counter and above a picture of a Golden Retriever, whom I assume is the source of the place's name.

Benjie and I walk outside against the afternoon sun. But I don't want to go home yet, just like what the song said.

"This date isn't over," he tells me once we're on the corner of the street, and as if he read my mind. "I want to show you something." Then he holds my hand. And we cross the road.

"Wait," I say when I realize that we're standing in front of a gate. "This is the public high school."

"That's quite an observation, KP."

"Wouldn't it be trespassing?"

He scoffs. "This is public property. And we belong to the general public." He pushes the gate, and it opens. "See, it's basically telling us to come inside." Now he's standing there, waiting for me to enter.

"You've done this before," I say when I walk in.

"One too many times."

He closes the gate but doesn't lock it.

From the main entrance of the school, we're welcomed by a garden. There's a big and old tree in the middle with white flowers on its branches. Three two-story buildings are surrounding the area, creating a square.