Super Friend

“Aren’t you going to start packing yet? Where are your stuff?”

I looked at my roommate, Beth, who has all her bags on her bed - one big suitcase filled with more than a week’s worth of clothes, a plastic bag with her unbelievably large pillow and a duffel bag - all packed and ready to go. Everyone else in Room 316 had already gone home for the term break except for the both of us. When Beth leaves, I will be left alone in the room.

“I’m not leaving till tomorrow.” I said nonchalantly, putting my feet up my desk, leaning back on my chair. I glanced at her. “Don’t make me stop you.”

“Oh, stop acting all sarcastic around me. Malapit na mag-Pasko, for God’s sake,” she said, flopping down my bed.

“And so? So what kung malapit na mag-Pasko?”

“You’re impossible,” Beth said, sighing. She was one of the latecomers in the room having moved only at the start of second term, that’s why she doesn’t really know me that well. We were never really close friends because of that, plus the fact that I find her a tad bit annoying lately because she has just gotten herself a boyfriend.

Not that I’m bitter. It just gets annoying to hear her talking about him almost every day since they got together.

Beth decided to change the topic. “Why wait until tomorrow to go home? You don’t have to do anything else at school today, don’t you?”

“Yes I do,” I lied. “May course card pa akong di nakukuha.”
Actually, I have all my course cards stuffed in my binder. I didn’t want to look at my barely passing grades, thank you very much. I just said that to get Beth out of my case. I’m not about to spill my entire life to someone who drinks decaffeinated coffee to keep her awake.

“Suit yourself,” she said, standing up as her mobile phone beeped, signifying a text message had just arrived. She got it, read the message, and said, “Mauna na ako. Ingat ka pauwi bukas. Merry Christmas!”

Beth took her things and went out the door before I could even return the greeting. I sat in silence and listened to her departing footsteps. Then I was alone.

I went to the window and opened it, hoisting myself on the windowsill. I found a comfortable position, took a cigarette from my pocket and lit it with a bright pink lighter. I watched the gray smoke lazily move up from my mouth as I blew it out slowly, coughing a bit as I inhaled back some of it. I’m no professional smoker, if there was such a thing. I only started smoking a month ago, when Jason and I…

I stopped myself from thinking that. I’m not supposed to think of that person anymore. I’m done with him.

So why am I still here at my dormitory? Is it because he wasn’t going home until tomorrow and that perhaps I could still catch a glimpse of him before he leaves? That maybe he would smile me, then we’d talk and that…

God, this is so pathetic.

I let the cigarette butt fall three stories down and I shut the window. I sprayed on perfume and grabbed my wallet. I need to get out of here, maybe take a coffee or something. Just to take my mind off him.

It was getting a little bit dark out when I crossed Taft Avenue to go to Starbucks. It was quite a long walk, and the usual Manila heat has gone down to make way for the change of climate we usually experience during the holiday season. I wrapped my jacket tighter around me as the LRT rumbled down the railway, make the ground vibrate. I almost laughed. I remembered how the LRT would make me feel back when I was a freshman: I always thought the school is going to collapse everytime it passes by.

As I walked past the South Gate, I saw some of the unlucky students who have their course cards given this late time. Some of them were gabbing with their friends nonstop, showing off their grades and talking about vacation plans to one another. Some wore disappointed looks, and I even heard someone saying, “Okay lang yan, pare…maiintindihan din nila yan.”

Yeah right, I thought to myself. Tell that to my parents. Once the consistent Dean’s Lister now down to someone who could barely pull their grades up.

I lit another cigarette as I made my way across the restaurants and shops that littered beside our school. McDonald’s, Wendy’s. 7-11. People paid little or no attention to me as they hurried to get rides or climb up the stairs of the LRT before the rush hour sets in.

I threw my cigarette in the trash as I went in Starbucks to order. The smell of coffee I used to love didn’t give much of a calming feeling as it used to give. It just reminded me of something that I’d really rather not think about at all. I went ahead and ordered a latte, plus a big ensaymada - Jason’s…my favorite.
After ordering, I headed out of the coffee shop and chose a table in the corner. I usually don’t sit outside Starbucks because I hated how the smell of cigarette smoke would cling to my hair afterwards, but I needed to sit there so I can finish off some sticks to calm my nerves and make me forget. I pulled an ashtray towards me and lit another cigarette. I told myself I wouldn’t smoke much when I learned how to, but I think it’s too late for that now. I’m starting to feel the edges of depression coming back to me again - I needed a diversion.

I sat there in silence, dragging on the cigarette, munching on the bread and drinking coffee. I felt the wind blow past me, and I zipped my jacket up. I looked around me and saw only two kinds of people - groups of students enjoying the end of the term and couples. Lots and lots of couples.

“This sucks,” I muttered to no one, taking a sip from my latte.

I busied myself slicing the ensaymada into equal little parts, just as Jason liked to do, and munching on them one by one. When I was almost done, I looked up and almost choked on the piece that I was about to swallow. God granted my wish for staying behind: Jason was standing inside the coffee shop, ordering himself a frappuccino. I held my breath as he turned around and half-wished he’d see me and half-wished he won’t. The former won. I saw him gaze around the coffee shop looking for a seat and then his eyes landed on me. His eyes lit up in recognition and he started moving towards me. I pretended not to see him as I hurriedly put my cigarette out and pushed the ashtray away.
“Hey,” he said, coming to my table. “Nandito ka pa?” He sank down the seat across me. Just like that. No questions whatsoever on if he could sit there or what. He was always like that, as if he was always welcome wherever I am. “Akala ko uwi ka na ngayon?”

“Uh…hindi pa ako nakakapag-pack eh.” I said, stirring my coffee, avoiding his eyes.

“Ba’t dito ka sa labas nakaupo? Diba ayaw mo dito?” he said, sipping his drink.

“Wala nang upuan sa loob kanina eh,” I lied. I tried to gather my thoughts - I’m sounding like such a dork in front of him! Where was my wit? Where’s my sarcasm when I needed it?

He fell silent. I dared to look at him and when I did, my eyes met his and he smiled. I struggled not to return it. I am not going to fall again. No I won’t. I’ve fallen once, but he didn’t catch me. And it hurt. It still does.

I was getting tense. I glanced at him, and debated within my mind if I was going to do it, then decided to. Why does he matter anyway? I took another cigarette from my pocket and lit it. I feel like I’m becoming a chain smoker already, all because of him. Let him see what he did to me. I looked at him defiantly as I blew smoke out of my mouth.

His expression was shocked, as I predicted. “You smoke?”
I didn’t answer, just blew smoke out again.
“Since when?”

I didn’t answer again.

“What’s this, Don’t-Answer-Jason game?” he asked, with a trace of annoyance in his voice.

“What’s this, twenty questions?” I shot back. He raised an eyebrow at me again and sat back.

“Okay, what’s up?” he asked.

“Why do you care?” I countered. I finally found my wit. And I liked it. I liked being able to answer back sarcastically, for it shielded me from the emotions that threatened to drown me. Jason, however, was used to it.

He actually laughed. “I know you, Kiara. You’re not sarcastic unless something’s up. Ano meron, may bagsak ka ba?”

I stopped and thought. I could pretend that what he said was my problem and be clean. Or I could just scrap the sarcastic act all together and act nice again.

Honestly, I didn’t know what to do.

But then I remembered me texting him that about my grades. He didn’t reply to my message, which was so like him. And it was just like him to forget about what I just told him earlier.

As if reading my mind, he decided to change the question. “Okay, so it’s not about the grades. May problema ka ba?”

Yes, I thought silently. And it’s you. It’s all about you.

I took another drag at my cigarette as I thought of an answer. He looked at me expectantly. I could tell he didn’t like my smoking. I didn’t either, but I wasn’t about to tell him that.

“Well?”

I sighed. “It’s a long story, Jason. And I don’t think you have the time to listen.”

“Yes I do,” he said. “I always have time for you.”

No you don’t, I thought, almost bitterly. You never did.

If he had time for me, then why didn’t he call me when he said he’d call? Why didn’t he come whenever I invited him to some kind of event? Where was he when I told him about my problems?

He looked at me, eyes earnest. I didn’t know if I could tell him the real reason why I was like that. I wanted to. But I knew that I couldn’t. I would never –

Okay, so maybe I could.

I sighed and stubbed the cigarette in the ashtray. “You really want to know?”

“Oo.”
I sighed again. I guess it’s time to lay down the truth to him. I guess he deserved to know already. Maybe it would answer some questions that I have with me too.

“You see, there’s this guy…”

“Aha! Lalake pala eh…” he teased.

I smiled, in spite of myself. “Shut up and listen.”

I told him the story - our story, my story. The story that haunted me for the past months, the story that caused me my academic and emotional troubles.

I met him during one of our high school interactions. We were both from exclusive schools. My cousin, who studied in his school, pointed him to me. They have always been trying to find someone for me, but I never really bit into any of them. Anyway, I found him attractive, and I told my friends. My friends dared me to go to him and introduce myself, and after a lot of persuasion, I gave in and went to him.
He was a nice person, but kind of quiet at first. I just kept on humoring him until we both got comfortable with each other. We exchanged cellphone numbers and we ended up being friends. We were always texting each other, and sometimes he’d call me at home. Then there were times when he’d actually go with me and my friends outside and we’d always end up being alone together because everyone else were teasing me to him.

During those times he called me on the phone almost every night, I was starting to feel different about him. He was nice, funny, smart and thoughtful - my kind of guy. And he seemed to be showing some interest - not total, but at least some interest in me, and so I allowed myself to fall.

We both ended up going to the same college together, and I was ecstatic. We even commuted together on the first few days of school. We were close friends, and my friends told me there was definitely something more. And I believed them. It seemed true — we even both decided at the same time to move into (separate) dorms near school to save up on money and so that we wouldn’t be too tired when we get home.

Things were going my way already, and we were already sending these “love quotes” to each other — which made me feel all happy and mushy every night — and then something went wrong.

I didn’t know what caused it, but he suddenly stopped calling. He stopped texting that much too, and it bothered me. I missed him and I let him know that, and he would reply with, “I’m busy kasi eh…sorry ha” type of messages. I hardly saw him around school too, and we stopped hanging out.

And it hurt.

I kept on hoping that his busy phase would stop, and that he would have time for me again. I waited patiently for him to call again, to bring back the old times. Whenever I’d ask if he wanted to have dinner or something, he’d always have some excuse and tells me that we’ll hang out next time. But “next time” never came.

Then I realized that I have fallen and that no one caught me. He didn’t catch me.

It didn’t make sense to me then, and I guess it still doesn’t. What was that interest he showed? Or was he even really interested in the first place?

I finished my story and glanced at Jason. Of course, I changed some things in the story for him not to guess it outright. (Now that would be embarrassing) He looked at me thoughtfully as he leaned back in my chair. I stirred my coffee. His silence was making me uncomfortable.

“You want another cigarette? Go ahead,” he said, breaking the silence.

I shook my head. “You know I really don’t like smoking.” I said quietly.

He nodded. “So give it to me.”

I looked at him, surprised. I took out the pack and handed it to him and he threw it to the trash bin. He looked back at me and smiled. “Promise me you’d stop that already, okay?” He said.

I nodded. I didn’t want to ask it, but I guess I had to. “So…what do you think?”

“Think about what?”
“What I just told you.”
“Oh, that,” he said, rubbing his forehead. It looked like he had a hard time thinking of an answer. I looked at him intently as he thought - and did I tell you that he looked so damn good when he’s thinking and everything?

He sighed and leaned forward, taking my hand, surprising me even more. My heart started to beat faster and butterflies fluttered in my stomach. “You know what? Pabayaan mo na yun. He doesn’t deserve you.”

I looked at him and our eyes met. I realized how true his words were - he certainly didn’t deserve me. I realized that everything that has happened the passed months were nothing to him - and I’m only a friend. Super-friend, as I heard one girl said once. That’s me, a super-friend.

I think I finally got the answer I needed for me to really move on.

I smiled in spite of myself. “Thanks.”

He smiled back and let go of my hand. “No problem.”
It was dark already. Christmas lights littered the avenue, and another breeze picked up. I pulled my jacket tighter around me and looked around, feeling lighter, happier than when I first sat there.

“Teka lang ha, I’ll be back,” Jason said suddenly, standing up. He went inside Starbucks again. I watched him approach the counter, but I didn’t see what he bought. He came back a few minutes later, with another plate of ensaymada and his windbreaker pocket a bit bulkier.

“O eto. Hati tayo. Pamasko ko na yan sayo,” he joked. I smiled as he placed the plate between us and we started eating.

“Kiara?”

“Hmmm?”
“Sino yung lalakeng yun? Care to share?”
I shook my head. “You don’t have to know.”
“Oh…is it someone I know?” he asked.

I looked at him. “Do you know him?” I laughed. “Oh, I think you do. I’m not sure, but I think you do.” And I said no more.
He shrugged and sat back. I sat back too, and enjoyed the silence. It was probably the most comfortable time we’ve had with each other ever since we stopped seeing each other.

“O, eto,” he said suddenly, reaching into his pocket and giving me a pack of those Starbucks lollipops. “Merry Christmas.”
I took the pack and smiled. “Ayan, guilty na tuloy ako. Wala ako regalo sayo.”

“Okay lang.”

“Thank you.”

“Kailan ka uwi?”

“Baka bukas. Takot nga ako sa dorm eh, nag-iisa lang ako tonight,” I chuckled.

“Gusto mo sumabay? Dala ko kasi yung car eh, uwi na ko mamaya. Hatid nalang kita.” He offered.

I considered the offer. I wanted to, and there wasn’t any voice saying that I shouldn’t. My conscience wasn’t screaming anything at me. In fact, it felt right.

I mean, it’s normal for friends to offer a ride to another friend, right?

“Okay,” I said. “Thanks ha.”
“Basta promise mo hindi ka na mag-yoyosi.” He said.

“Oo.”

“Promise ha!”

“Oo nga!”

A few hours later, after being stuck in traffic on the way, Jason dropped me off at our house.

“Thanks ulit ha.” I said, as he helped me get my things out.

“No problem. Ikaw pa.”

I laughed. He carried my bags to the gate as I opened it. “Sige na. Salamat uli.”

“Tawagan nalang kita.”

“Sure. God bless.”

I was about to enter when he called me again. “Kiara?”

“Yes?”

“You said you and that guy met at a high school interaction?” he said.

So. He was still thinking about it. “Yes…bakit?”

He looked at me for a while, and I saw understanding dawn into him. “Wala lang. Just asking.” He smiled. “Merry Christmas.”

“Happy New Year,” I answered. He climbed the car and waved and left.

I entered the quiet house and dropped my bags in my room. Then I sat on the bed.

“High school interaction…” I said, trailing off. Then I remembered. Our school only had high school interactions with their school. Other schools were too far away.

Hmmm.

A text message arrived. My hands were shaking as I opened it. It was Jason.

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