Someday, I'll Find My Way Home

Karl rides the bus.

I hate travelling. Or, to be more specific, I was part of the population who wasn't exposed to such things. My family, for instance, never went out anywhere outside Cavite and Manila.

When we go for family outings with either my mother or father's side (sometimes, even both, but that was reserved for my parents' anniversary), we would rent a resort in Naic, Cavite. Volets Resort in the city of Dasmariñas was definitely one of our go-to during summer.

Plus, with our limited budget, we would never afford such expenses. We would rather fill our stomachs in the comfort of our home rather than go to some place for the view and experience. Although to be honest, I was envious of people who could do that. But then again, they are privileged enough to do that.

So that explains why I was not exposed on traveling in other mediums of transportation. I remembered when my mother and I rode the van going to Calamba the first time. Let's just say it wasn't the most pleasant experience. And yes, I didn't vomit. I did after we arrived in SM Calamba.

So when Axel and I rode the bus going to Makati, I was dizzy.

It was the first time again, for a long time, to ride the bus. I never went to Makati as well. I accompanied my mother to shop at Divisoria during Christmas for her gifts at her students, or before school started for our own school stationery. We also went to pass my application forms and take college entrance exams to DLSU-Taft, PNU, UST, and PUP-Sta. Mesa.

Axel sat beside me with his worrying look again. Good thing that I brought my Vicks to this trip. I put a small amout below my nose so I could inhale it.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Axel asked. He turned the direction of the airconditioning to his side. "We could, y'know, cancel."

He was wearing one of his classic attires--a dotted polo, denim shorts, and white sneakers. And he even brought his Hawk backpack, which was surprising considering he only had his umbrella inside it.

I tried not to have my usual look, since it was first time going to the Metro again without my parents. I wore a light pink polo that my mother gave me last year as a Christmas gift, my trusted maong pants, and my favorite black rubber shoes. I looked like a disappointment, I know.

"Nope. You made a promise and lost to a bet," I firmly said. "This is my only chance to go to Manila."

"I know. I'm never bet again on that one. You're never gonna find a girlfriend."

"That's rude. Maybe I would, but not now."

Little did he know.

"So where do you want to go?" he asked. "I could tour you to places."

"First, I want to sit down after we go down," I elaborated. "Then eat. Then you go tour me wherever you want. And don't talk to me now or I'll vomit on you pants."

He didn't reply after that. I plugged my earphones in and played Taylor Swift's new album, Red. And I must say in record that it is the greatest album of hers--nope, of all 2012. Period. It deserves a Grammy!

I leaned my head at the edge of my seat. I reclined my seat a little bit so I wouldn't burden the one behind me.

As I closed my eyes, Axel stole my left earbud.

"Hey!" I protested.

"What?"

"You have your own earphones. Use that."

"I wanna listen to your music."

"It's Taylor Swift. Play it on your own."

"Not listening to you."

He exchanged the buds--he put the left on mine, and he placed the right on his.

"That's more like it."

I groaned. "Don't talk to me. I'm sleeping."

-

When the bus hit a hard brake, I woke up in a jolt. What's weird was, I wasn't in my last position. My head was leaned on Axel's shoulder while his eyes were closed. Taylor Swift's Begin Again played on my phone. I was close to him. Again.

And the first thing that I thought was, what would other people think if they saw us? They would think I'm gay. Or he's gay. Or we're a couple. And this isn't the society where this is a norm.

And my mind shifted to him. Again. How he looked peaceful and still handsome even though his mouth was slightly open. How his hair was all messed up from moving his head back and forth. And I was closer to him. My hands rested on his lap, near his right hand.

I wanted to try holding his hand for a change. To see how soft it was. How it feels against mine. And whether this pestering feeling of anxiety and happiness about him would die, eventually.

I hesitated.

I pulled my hand back on my side.

If I was to perfectly describe what was it like to be with him, it was as if I was eating a hearty soup, and the warmth fills my body with every sip. My lips would form a small smile, and then I look at him again and found myself at peace. His scent feels familiar. His whole being does.

This felt right, but at the same time it doesn't.

I pulled myself together. I went back to my original position. This is right. This should be right. This must be right. Because none of these made sense to me.

Before I closed my eyes again, I felt his hands on my cheeks as he pulled me gently to his shoulders. I tried to pull away, but he leaned his head on mine. I gave up protesting and lull myself to sleep.