by Wilde, Ora
“Oh fuck. Why did I have to tell you that? Geez.” His voice was mellowing down. His tears were beginning to dry. I almost made him chuckle, but he was just too smug that he restrained it.
Silence followed. It lasted for minutes. Hours even. Dusk came and the evening sky blanketed us with blackness and chilly air. Yet, we remained unspeaking, content with each other’s company and the comfort that we have given to each other.
“He loves you,” I finally said, my voice breaking the monotony of the sound of crickets and the occasional hoots of some owls.
“I guess he does,” he replied, his voice with a tone of tranquil resignation.
“You’re not related by blood, but should that even matter? He’s the only father you’ve ever known, and I don’t think that should change.”
“I know,” he agreed, much to my surprise. His change was quite drastic. There was nary a trace of hatred in his words. Just acceptance. “How is he?” he asked, remembering the uncertain condition his father was in when he left the hospital.
“Recovering,” I answered. “The transplant was successful. He’s responding well.”
I saw a smile form on his face.
“And he will be worried once he finds out that you’re missing,” I added.
“I guess we have to go back then,” he said while fiddling his fingers.
“Yep. Let’s go back home, Hayden...”
“You know... no one ever made me open up like this,” he suddenly mentioned.
“It’s just because it’s been an emotional day for all of us,” I tried to dismiss his comment.
“No,” he firmly contested. “It’s not because of that.”
My eyes squinted. I had to fix my glasses and draw my head closer to his face so that I could determine if he was being serious or if he was merely setting me up for some witty repartee.
Despite the darkness, I got a good glimpse of his face.
He was being earnest.
“It’s because of you,” he said as he turned to face me.
I gulped. I wasn’t expecting him to make that kind of a statement (or was it a sincere confession?) at a time like that. And in front of his mother’s grave no less!
“Phoebe,” he continued to say, “no one has ever made me feel this way... this... peaceful...”
“Heh. All I did was let you realize something you could’ve very well become aware of yourself.”
“Yes... but if you were any other person, I wouldn’t have been receptive.”
I was deeply honored by his remark, but I found it scary at the same time. I was happy that I had that kind of an effect on him, but terrified that it might lead to a deeper feeling that we may not be able to stop.
And true enough, he delivered his line.
“Phoebe... since we’re in the process of accepting what is truly in our hearts,” he said, “I’d like you to know that... that...” he scrambled to say his next words, which was quite uncanny given how overly confident he always was.
“That?” I egged him to continue, though I knew that what he was planning to say would change everything between us.
“That... that I think I’m in love with you...”
I knew, right there and then, that it was a declaration that I would remember forever. Every detail of that moment would be frozen in my memory. The pale red petals of saucer magnolias falling on our heads. The crunchy sound of the dried leaves on the ground as I moved my feet restlessly from where I sat. The cold air that would’ve been unbearable without a jacket, though it hardly bothered me as my mind was elsewhere.
And his words... long have I feared and long have I waited for them... as gentle as the summer wind, as promising as a bud that was just about to bloom, as terrifying as that first step into a place that you were always told you shouldn’t go to...
“You know we can’t be together, right?” I told him, an answer I have rehearsed over and over again in my mind whenever I dreamt about that instance, whenever I hoped that my feelings for him would be requited.
He bowed his head once more, in surrender and disappointment and suffering most of all.
For there he was, a proud and arrogant man, who - for what was most probably the first time in his life - opened his heart to a girl, and she said that their love couldn’t prosper.
“We will always be family, Hayden,” I tried to console him as I rubbed his back. “We will always be together... but not in the manner that I think you want...”
“But don’t you feel the same way?” he asked, his voice crackling with dejection.
“I...” I was supposed to say that I did. But I stopped myself. There was no need to make the matter even more complicated. “I... know we shouldn’t be together together.”
Then he flashed that smile I have come to know so well... of self-assuredness and vanity, of narcissism and bold confidence.
“That’s not exactly a no, right?” he asked, a glimmer of hope twinkled in his eyes.
My lips curled into an uncomfortable twirl.
“Errrr... that’s actually a no, Hayden,” I clarified.
“And it’s a no... for now, and only now, right? It’s not a no forever?” He was being persistent.
I looked straight at his eyes, took a deep breath, and started to speak the words I knew - deep in my heart of hearts, I knew - I didn’t want to believe in, but something that I firmly believed was the right thing to do.
“Hayden, I’m sorry... we can’t be together, ever.”
Chapter 45
HAYDEN
“You have a what?!”
I couldn’t believe what she just said after I saw her descend the stairs with her makeup on, wearing that black dress with the tiny straps which she wore when we first went out.
“I have a date,” she repeated, with a smile that seemed to mock me.
“She has a date,” Martha echoed, likewise with a grin. They were ganging up on me.
“No, no, no... you don’t have a date,” I said as I wagged my finger in front of her face. “I don’t believe you have a date.”
“Well, suit yourself,” she replied as she gave me a shrug. “Me... I’m going to have fun tonight.”
“Who’s the stupid cunt that’s taking you out?” I asked.
“Language...” Martha reminded.
It’s been three weeks since we - with the exception of my father - talked about how to make the household a more conducive environment for his swift recovery. Martha and Phoebe both suggested that the house should be profanity-free.
Reluctantly, I agreed.
What could I do? I was grossly outnumbered.
“His name’s Joshua, and he’s a gentleman... a really nice guy,” Phoebe answered.
“Yes, Joshua... he really is a very sweet lad,” Martha added.
“Oh my God!” I yelled. “You guys sound so... defensive.”
“Defensive? We’re just being honest,” Martha explained.
A honk resonated from the driveway.
“That’s him! I have to go!” Phoebe uttered as she moved quickly towards the door. It was as if she was panicking. She didn’t want him to wait. Barton was ready at the entrance to see her out.
I gave Martha a look that silently asked: are you going to allow your daughter to go out with this stranger who might turn out to be a psycho?
And just like what her kid did earlier, she shrugged and gave me a twisted smile.
I ran after Phoebe and held her arm just before she could reach the door. I motioned Barton to give us some privacy. He obliged by bowing his head and stepping outside.
“You’re really going to do this?” I asked her intently.
“Yes, as I have every right to,” she casually answered.
“You do know how much this is affecting me.”
“Uhm... not really.”
“Not really?”
“Why is it affecting you?”
“Because you know how I feel for you.”
“Ah! But we made a promise. At the
cemetery. Remember?”
“Yes, but that promise... it was just... temporary... right?” I hated how I sounded. It was as if I was desperate.
Maybe I was.
“Errrr... no,” she said. “Hayden... we talked about this. You and I, we can’t be together. We’re family now. We talked about this. We both agreed to the terms. Please... just... let go of whatever feelings you have for me. Please, Hayden?”
“That’s easy for you to say,” I told her sulkily. “It’s amazing how quickly you’ve moved on. Imagine, here I am... pining for you... with you being so close yet so far away. And there you are, all so pretty and dressed up... about to go out on a stupid date with a guy who’s most probably planning on working his way inside your dress as we speak...”
“Oh... like he had a bet with someone?” she asked with a sly smile.
Her comment staggered me a bit. I could’ve easily retorted with the fact that the bet was a result of the scheme that she and her best friend planned, but I refrained from doing so. I didn’t want to engage her in an argument.
I just wanted her to stay home.
Close to me.
“Do you really have to go?” I asked her after a few seconds of silence.
“Yes, Hayden, I have to do this,” she said. “It’s not because I want to. It’s because I need to. I need to see other people...”
“Why?”
“So that I could... forget.”
“Forget about?”
“Oh Hayden... stop asking questions you know the answers to.”
She drew her face close to mine and gave me a soft kiss on the cheek. The warmth of her lips at that moment would linger the entire night, as I waited for her to get home.
“Bye Hayden, see you later or tomorrow, okay?” she tendered.
“Bye,” I weakly said as hopelessness and helplessness began to flood my soul.
I didn’t bother to see her meet her date. I turned around and walked towards the stairs. I wanted to get back to my room, to spend the entire evening wallowing in despair, counting down the minutes and the hours until she came back home.
Just before I could reach my room, however, I decided to go up the next flight of stairs towards the third floor. I wanted to make a short stopover.
As soon as I entered the master’s bedroom, I saw that my father was still awake, studying some documents that were most probably for his work.
“You’re on sick leave,” I told him.
“Heh! That’s for rank and files,” was his reply, which was followed by a mild cough.
“If any of your underlings would have a kidney transplant, I’m sure they won’t bring their work home.”
“You don’t know me as a boss, then.”
“Oh... you’d be surprised. Do you know how many of them approached me to complain about how much of a slave driver you are?”
He chuckled with some difficulty.
“Seriously, they’re planning on filing some cases before the LWDA,” I added.
“Well, that’s what I pay my lawyers for,” he confidently answered. “To take care of problems like that. At least their expensive retainers would be put to good use.”
“You don’t sound like someone who just had a kidney transplant,” I remarked.
“And you don’t sound like someone who just had a kidney removed,” he snapped back. “Speaking of which... I wonder who was the unlucky individual who received your organ.”
“Well, whoever he is, I bet he’d have good looking kids in the future,” I rejoined. “After all, he has a part of me now.”
“Well, even if his kids turn out to be ugly, I’m sure he won’t love them any less,” he said. “That’s how fathers are.”
“And I’m sure that even if he himself is actually ugly, his kids would still love him. After all, that’s how children are.”
He gave me a smile. A knowing type of smile. A smile that seemingly said how happy and proud he was of me at that moment.
“Well, you better get some rest, dad,” I told him. “I’ll see you in the morning before I go to school, alright?”
“Alright, son. Good night.”
As soon as I got back to my room, my night of misery commenced.
I hated myself for feeling that way. Over a girl. It was something I haven’t experienced before. It was like I had this overwhelming need to just take her and hug her so that she won’t be able to go anywhere else... especially not with that guy named Joshua.
Who the fuck is that Joshua anyway?
Come to think of it, she did mention him last week. Joshua, the Dentistry student whose subjects were in the same building as hers. That motherfucking son of a bitch probably sees her every single day!
I paced around my room, trying to contain whatever it was that I was experiencing. Anger. Hatred. Fear. Envy. A cornucopia of emotions that, when taken together, proved very difficult to contain. I loathed it. And I detested it even more because it was a feeling that was completely alien to me.
What was I feeling, anyway?
Shit!
Was it...
Jealousy?
No, no, no, no... it can’t be jealousy. I never got jealous over anyone. It’s just not me. It can’t be me.
But... how else could I explain it?
I sat down on the side of my bed and buried my face on my hands. I wanted to regain control over my emotions... over myself... but I couldn’t. Desperation was speedily taking over me, and I despised it... and I dreaded it...
Wait a minute...
Wait a damn fucking minute...
I want her.
I need her.
I.... I probably... love her.
And I wouldn’t dare watch her walk away... especially not with someone who’d be a boring dentist in a few years.
I stood up and looked at myself in the mirror... and I saw something that I haven’t seen in weeks. I saw something that reminded me of who I was and what I was supposed to do. I saw something that told me that my conceitedness and my impudence wasn’t a blanket that sheltered me from the world... they were who I am.
I saw something that I never thought I would miss.
A smirk.
Chapter 46
PHOEBE
“Uhm... uhm...”
I didn’t know if I was really unsure about what I wanted to order or if I was still in a state of shock about the place where he took me for dinner.
“Would you like to have what I’m having?” he offered as a suggestion. “Same flavor?”
“Uhm... okay,” I finally said, though I never really liked anchovies.
I wondered why, of all places, he brought me to Alvin’s Pizzeria just at the outskirts of campus. It was probably because it was the resto he was most familiar with, as he was living in a dorm nearby. Still, I felt so embarrassed, being overdressed for the place and all. I just wished he thought about that before taking me there.
However, though I knew little about Joshua, I was certain he meant no disrespect. He was a shy and humble guy. Maybe, he just wasn’t used to how girls think.
I guess there’s no man alive who knows how a girl really thinks.
Straight man, I must qualify. My gay acquaintances are so much fun, I sometimes forget that they pee standing up.
Joshua raised his hand to call for the waiter’s attention.
Immediately, a big, brutish guy approached us.
Funny. Me and Cindy were regulars at Alvin’s Pizzeria. We dined there at least thrice a week. I haven’t seen that waiter before. Given his sheer size, I would’ve noticed him. He was new. He probably just started that day.
“Hey boss,” the waiter acknowledged. “What’s up? What’re your orders?”
“Yeah, we’ll get the combo pizza with extra anchovies, please,” Joshua replied.
“Pizza anchovies... with... extra... combo?” the waiter struggled to repeat the order. What he said didn’t make sense.
“No, no... combo pizza with extra anchovies, please,” Joshua repeate
d.
“Hey boss, can you talk a little slower?” the waiter requested. “I can’t remember the entire thing. My writing can’t catch up with you, boss. See?” He showed Joshua the piece of paper where he was jotting down our order. “This is where I stopped boss... Pizza anchovy...”