The Love that Made the Stars Fall (+18)

12| The Jacket

Ｊｏｄｉｅ

Matteo wants to eat somewhere quiet, so I bring him outside the hall to these cement benches under the pine trees. You can still hear a bit of the music thumping from inside the hall, but out here, it's way more peaceful with hardly anyone around.

The only downside is the cold. We're wrapped in a blanket of fog as we share the food I brought. Pero tiniis ko na lang ito, lalo na't mahalaga sa'kin ang makakain. Ngayon ko lang kasi narealize na ilang araw na rin akong kumakain ng mga pinainit na ulam at budget meals mula sa mga carinderia.

Gutom na gutom ako.

Habang walang-habas kong nilalantakan ang nasa paper plate ko, ito namang Italyanong kaharap ko, napakapinong gumalaw. Then, he pokes at his meatballs with a plastic fork, rolling them around on his plate a few times before finally stabbing one and popping it into his mouth. Then he makes this face, like he's eating it out of sheer obligation.

Ngayon lang ako nakakita ng isang lalaking napakapihikang kumain.

"Just so you know, those meatballs are made with real meat, not the fake stuff," I joke, grinning. "And they were molded by actual hands."

Umangat ang tingin niya sa'kin bago niya mabilis na inilapag pabalik ang kinakagat niyang meatball sa plato niya. Lalo yata siyang na-turn off dahil sa sinabi ko.

"Are you thinking it's dirty? It was properly cooked—"

"So you haven't been in a relationship."

Kamuntikang bumara sa lalamunan ko ang kasusubo kong patatas. Wow, he really knows how to change the subject—sharp turn and all.

"I did say that," sabi ko pagkatapos kong umubo. "I am—how do they call it again—ah. No boyfriend since birth. NBSB."

"Because you were too busy—that's what you said, right?"

"Correct."

"The last time I met someone who hadn't had any sort of romantic relationship was an eighty-year-old nun at a convent in Sicily," he says with a grin, making me even more confused. Ba't ba namin pinagu-usapan ang kawalan ko ng love life?

"Why are we talking about this again?"

"Why not? This is better than a small talk, isn't it? To hit someone with the hard questions," sabi niya na humalukipkip pa. "So that guy, Bernard Saavedra's son. He's just an admirer of yours?"

"You mean, Landon."

"Ah-huh."

"I'm not sure if 'admirer' is the right word to describe Landon," kako. "You see, he tends to be more critical of my actions."

"Well, it's possible for someone to be critical of you while still admiring you at the same time, isn't it?"

"Maybe," tugon ko. "But sometimes it feels like his criticism outweighs any admiration he may have. Plus, I don't know. Maybe, he's not my type."

I catch his brows arching up. "Type? What's your type?"

Ngumunguya akong napaisip. "I. . ." Oh no, ngayon ko lang naisip. Wala pala akong type! "I actually have no idea. Haven't thought of the answer to that before."

Sumandal si Matteo sa inuupuan niya. He crosses his muscular arms over his chest. "You're a very strange person, Jodie Tuazon, do you know that?"

"No, I'm not strange," giit ko habang sunod na kinakain ang pansit. "I'm just poor and very busy. But I do know what's not my type."