Chasing Mr. Prefect

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Chasing Mr. Prefect Page 6

by Katt Briones


  “Clingy much?” I croaked out.

  “Bad trip!” he hissed, then he walked away. I stared at him disbelievingly, then took out my phone and saw SMS messages from him. There was one about our management accounting prof wearing too much bangles, another discussing why our Finance 2 classmate still couldn’t realize that he had BO, and a barrage of texts like Vinnie you shouldn’t cut class, Vinnie where the fuck are you, then there was also a Damn it, Lavinia, I’m worried as fuck, why aren’t you answering?

  Sighing, I followed him out of the shrine. He was standing on the church steps, still angry, hands inside his pockets.

  “Cholo,” I said, half-walking and half-sprinting to reach him quickly. “It’s my mom’s death anniversary. That’s why I cut class. I also attended mass and spent the whole day praying so I wasn’t able to reply to you or return your calls. Okay na ba?”

  Pouting, he stared at me, as though trying to gauge if I was lying, then ultimately decided to speak to me again.

  “Okay,” he said grudgingly, and I smiled. He then ignored me and walked away, towards the park in front of the church. It hid a shortcut to our part of the village, which I liked because of the trees. I followed him.

  “We have to drop by my house, though. All your gifts are there and they made me bring everything because they know that I live near you. It’s a good thing I brought the car today.”

  “Wow, that many?” I asked. “Thanks!”

  We stayed silent until we got to his house. It was a two-storey structure with peach paint. The exterior seemed well-maintained, but it also felt lonely. The Altis was parked in the driveway but he passed right by it and led me to his living room.

  The space was roomy, cozy, and I felt at home. There was a wooden staircase in the corner of the room, and beside the door was a narra cabinet where I saw a number of picture frames.

  I saw a cute kid with dimpled cheeks smiling up at me from one of them. I bent over to look at it more closely.

  “Cholo? I called out when I heard him coming down the stairs. He had two full paper bags on either hand, and he smiled when he saw what I was looking at.

  “Cute, no?” he said, beaming. “That’s my brother’s kid, Risa.”

  “The eldest one’s Chip, right? How old is he again?” I asked, pointing to one of the pictures that had his brothers on it.

  “Twenty-seven,” he answered. “Seven years older than me. He lives with his wife and kid in Alabang.”

  “Rich people,” I commented, then my eyes strayed over to another formal picture, this time containing his niece and a woman I presumed to be Chip’s wife. “When was this one taken?”

  “Couple of years ago,” Cholo answered. “Before the parents left for the States. That one in the middle is Chan. He’s four years older than me.”

  “You look more like Chip,” I observed. “Though Chan has your eyes, too. You’re quite a good-looking bunch. Are you close to both of them?”

  “Yes, even when we were younger,” Cholo replied. “Here are your gifts.”

  “Wow, thanks!” I said, and when I reached out for the bags, Cholo pulled them out of my reach.

  “I’ll bring these home for you, just please open the gate,” he said, skirting his way around me and getting himself out of the front door. I shook my head as he went, but I did as I was told and followed him out.

  “Are your parents coming home for Christmas?”

  “No,” he replied, his face suddenly devoid of expression. “Chan’s flying off to New Jersey to spend Christmas with them though. And Chip’s flying to Singapore with Ate Ania’s family.”

  “What? Why aren’t they bringing you along with them?”

  “They ask me to come to the States as well every year, but I hated it the first time. I’m not so keen on the cold, see? So I stay home, cook ham and bacon and eat it all for Noche Buena,” he offered. “Then I regret it come Christmas morning when I can’t fit into my Christmas pants.”

  I couldn’t help but gape.

  “You should spend Christmas with us. Cris makes awesome pasta, plus Liana’s sans rival is crazy delicious. You’ll love it.”

  “Seriously?” he asked, looking excited. “God, I love you!”

  “Sabay ganon?” I scolded, and his smile vanished a bit. I took the bags from him as we reached our house, and I hit the doorbell with my fist before facing him again. “Anyway, thanks.”

  “Um. Okay,” he replied, shrugging. For some reason, he was a bit red around the ears. “See you on the 24th.”

  He bid me goodbye and walked away with his hands in his pockets. I heard the gate open behind me and saw Liana, who was staring at Cholo’s retreating figure.

  “Isn’t that our head prefect?” she asked me.

  “Yeah, why?” I replied, passing her as I got inside the house.

  “Wala lang. He just seems different,” she commented. “At school he’s all formal and suplado, but with you, just now. He looks at you differently. I’ve never seen him with his guard down. Ngayon lang.”

  “Linaw naman ng mata mo,” I joked, closing the gate.

  “Never mind,” said Liana, who looked like she was really done with me. “Come on in, dinner’s ready.”

  What on earth did Liana mean?

  Ugh. Sometimes, I still couldn’t quite get her.

  CHAPTER 13

  Noche Buena was unparalleled.

  Dad had one too many glasses of wine, so that he was red in the face by the time we started eating. He also kept babbling about his best Christmas gift so far, which apparently was me talking to him again. Cris made this crazy good seafood carbonara, which Liana and I enjoyed, but also made a separate batch (chicken) for Cholo because he was allergic to shrimp. Liana made two sans rival pans because I already stopped pretending not to like anything she made, and she thought one would not be enough for all of us. She turned out to be right because at the end of the meal, the three of them (Dad, Cris, and Liana) shared one cake, while Cholo and I shamelessly fought over the other.

  After washing the dishes together (because we didn’t help with the preparations), Cholo and I sleepily went upstairs. Dad insisted for him to just stay over and attend mass with us tomorrow morning. Everyone else went to sleep while I prepared a couple of blankets and a pillow for Cholo in the TV room upstairs—the sofa there was much softer than the one in the ground floor.

  “Your family’s awesome,” he told me, and he threw himself on the sofa with his eyes closed.

  “Yeah. Can’t believe I didn’t talk to them for years,” I said, laughing. “You wanna see the terrace?”

  He nodded, and I hoisted him off the sofa. He followed me while scratching his eyes with his knuckles, and he looked so cute doing it that I almost forgot where we were going.

  I opened my room and led him to the window—the same one where I found Melba many weeks ago—and opened the panels wide. There was a flat expanse of roof in front, and I usually hung out here when I felt too stuffy inside my room. I squeezed myself through the window and balanced myself on the slightly uneven surface. Cholo, being taller, had a bit more difficulty with doing so, but with some help he was able to get there with me too.

  “I really don’t want to imagine how I’m supposed to get back in there later,” he complained, staring at the window with his hands on his hips. I laughed my head off and pointed on the sloping roof just behind me.

  “You can take a shortcut over here if you like,” I said. “It goes straight to the laundry area and you can come in that way.”

  “Where am I supposed to land?” he now asked, leaning towards my spot as he tried to look. “Is that even safe?”

  “Um, yeah, just remember to get a good grip on our clothesline when you land,” I taunted, then I got an evil idea. “Hala!”

  I pushed him a bit and he jumped in his spot, almost losing his balance. He glared as I pulled him right back towards me to keep him from falling.

  “Vinnie!” he yelled, and I had to cover his mouth because my fa
mily was supposed to be sleeping, but he tapped my hand away. I took a small, waterproof mat just below the window and laid it on the floor.

  “Here. Have a seat.”

  “Hindi mo na ako itutulak?”

  “I’m still thinking about it,” I snapped, then steered him down towards the mat using his shoulders. He obliged, and I took a seat beside him. The wind was cool against my skin. I watched the stars for a bit then closed my eyes and put my head on his shoulder.

  “You seem sad.”

  “No, I’m just sleepy,” I replied. I felt him lean his head towards mine, and caught a whiff of what smelled like Irish Spring.

  “It won’t make you any less human, you know,” he told me. “Admitting you actually have emotions.”

  “Gets mo na ‘yon, I don’t need to tell you that,” I answered. “Because you’re my closest, um, friend. And stuff.”

  I really hope that came out right.

  “Well, I do listen when you speak, Vinnie. Even more so when you don’t.”

  “Don’t you ever get tired of me? All that anger and angst?”

  “Nah. You’re a good person, just doing a good job of hiding it.”

  “Tarantado.”

  “It’s not about you being good or whatever,” he said, and I closed my eyes as I listened. “It comes with the territory, you know. Caring for you. Or caring for somebody else. Cutting them some slack, giving them space to learn. Watching them become what they wanted to be.

  Everyone just needs a chance and some time to get their shit together. A lot of people don’t get that. They’d rather spend time judging others than learning from them. You want to know what I learned from you?”

  “Let me think. Cutting classes?” I offered.

  “Hey, that was one time,” he countered, referring to that day he didn’t show up to classes all day for that Makati interview. “I learned that there were a lot of things more important than academics.”

  “Wow, that’s heavy,” I teased. “What could be more important to you than academics, Mr. Prefect?”

  “Family. Standing up for oneself. Fighting back when the situation calls for it.”

  “I’m always up for a good fight, thank you,” I answered.

  “Sabi ko when the situation calls for it,” he countered, nudging me with his elbow. “You’re tough, you never let others win, and sometimes, nakakainis ‘yung tigas ng ulo mo. But that does come in handy. You know, Katniss reminded me a lot of you when I watched the Hunger Games the other day.”

  “Yeah? Think I’d make a good murderer?”

  “I’m serious,” he said, shaking me off his shoulder so I had to face him. “See? It’s so you. You avoid stuff and sometimes you’re unaware that you’re hurting people.”

  “Where did that one come from?” I demanded, and he avoided my gaze.

  “There you go.” he said, scratching his nose and avoided my eyes. “See? Pareho kayong manhid.”

  I stared at him for a while, unable to comprehend a thing.

  “Go to sleep. We’re supposed to attend mass tomorrow,” he said, standing up so suddenly.

  I followed suit and punched his arm hard.

  “Ow! Lavinia!” he complained.

  “Tang ina mo, noh?” I angrily said. “What did I do to you? Why are you telling me these things and then suddenly turn back and tell me to sleep?!”

  “Do you have any idea how hard it is,” he snapped, gritting his teeth as he rubbed the spot on his shoulder that I mercilessly hit, “whenever you speak to me like this and I look at you with—UGH, SHIT! When will she ever fucking get it?”

  He screamed at the heavens and turned his back on me, throwing his hands in the air frustratedly.

  “I don’t understand, Cholo,” I answered, and I had no idea why my eyes were getting all wet.

  “Of course you don’t. You never listened, otherwise you would have figured it out.”

  “Figured what out?” I shouted now. My heart was doing these crazy flips inside my ribcage and again, I couldn’t think straight. “Say it or I’ll push you off that roof.”

  “No need,” he snapped, but his voice was now a mere whisper. “It’s already killing me that everyone else could see how much I love you and you just won’t fucking let me.”

  CHAPTER 14

  It hit me like a sledgehammer. The atmosphere turned all tense. His tone was a tad accusatory and I immediately turned on defensive mode.

  “Everyone else? How on earth was I going to figure that out when you kept telling me I was a piece of work—something that needed fixing?”

  “I did want you to grow up a little when I met you. You were snarky, angry, and all sorts of difficult. Joke’s on me for ending up liking every single bit of it, but I never said anything about you needing to be fixed,” he answered, not backing down. He even stared right back at me.

  “But I did just that,” I answered. “Right? You guys could trust me now. You’re listening to me and it’s like my opinion on things actually matter. You wouldn’t have done that if I didn’t fix myself.”

  I didn’t know what to do with what he told me. I wanted to be offended but there were some parts of what he told me that melted my heart and at the same time made me want to punch him.

  “Remember how you wrote me off, the day Miss Co brought me to your office? I didn’t want a repeat of that, Cholo. I wanted, no, needed a validation that I could do things your way and prove that I was much more than a problematic kid serving another form of school punishment so I had to work my ass off. Oh, and that’s not counting the fact that I had to fix my issues with my family, too. Is that why you’re saying this? You like me now because I stopped being the bad egg? Is it finally enough?”

  I had to catch my breath after this long pronouncement. Cholo was shaking his head.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, voice soft. Apologetic. “I didn’t know you thought of it that way. Ikaw ‘yan eh. I don’t want to lose any of that. I’m sorry if I made you feel that you had to change.”

  “But how could I not, Cholo?” I asked, cutting him off. “You and I are pretty similar. You even have it worse than I do, but you handle things so differently. How could I not want to be like you? You’re strong enough to handle it and you don’t feel the need to be a rebel just to prove a point. I thought that maybe I shouldn’t be such a brooding idiot when there are people like you who exist. People who could forgive.”

  He shook his head, eyes sad.

  “I’m not as forgiving as you think. I’m actually still angry about a number of things, and it’s always just there. I could put it away for a while but it would always come back in full measure. I even feel that it’s more pronounced when I’m with you, but instead of getting repelled, I’m hooked.”

  He walked closer towards me and put both his hands on the sides of my head, gently wiping my tears with his fingers.

  “All I could think of now is you and how to free you from this pain but I couldn’t. I’m just as wounded and no matter what you might think, that makes me just as scared as you are about things.

  That makes me feel that I’m not enough for you either, but enough or not I want to be here, with you.”

  I had no idea why I started crying in earnest. I never thought anyone would want to be with me the way he did, complications and all.

  “You make me want to be better, Cholo, more than I care to admit,” I replied, and his eyes shone with hope and tears. “And I want to be there for you, too.”

  I smiled as Cholo kissed my forehead. He held the back of my head with one hand as he did so.

  “I thought home was a place,” he said against my hair. “But now I seem to have found mine in a person, someone who was in the same block and classroom all this time.”

  He put my hand over his heart and I looked up to meet his gaze.

  “I love you,” he told me, eyes almost pleading. “And I want to be home.”

  “I want to be home, too,” was my reply, and I smiled back at him, feeling like m
y heart would burst.

  He leaned over and kissed me, carefully at first, seemingly unfamiliar.

  But like his heart, his lips settled on mine, recognizing them as their own, as though returning to an old home.

  And it was. It always was.

  CHAPTER 15

  The part where Cholo said that everyone knew it but me must have been true, as my family didn’t even say anything when we attended mass with them the next day while holding hands.

  He also came over to our house a lot during the holidays. Dad and Cris were only too happy to let him eat dinner with us (“Vinnie talks more when you’re here!” said Liana, which made Cholo grin at me from ear to ear) almost every night. Twice, Cholo just turned up unannounced with food enough for my entire family. Sometimes he watched NBA games with Dad too, and I couldn’t really keep up anymore when they started discussing stats and stuff. One time, I excused myself to get water from the fridge, and he followed me.

  “Bored?” Cholo teased the moment we got out of earshot. I glared at him as I opened the ref.

  “Since when have you been a basketball fan?”

  “What can I say? Your boyfriend is well-rounded,” he said cockily, pinching my nose, and then he got another couple of beers from the chiller. “You should be proud.”

  “Do we count being good at drinking when you say well-rounded?” I asked, eyeing the bottles he was holding, and he just laughed it off and walked away, not forgetting to give me a huge kiss before doing so.

  Ew, beer breath!

  He sprung the question on me while we were watching this painfully pretentious movie on cable.

  “You guys doing anything on New Year?”

  “No, why?” I asked, busy with Temple Run Oz.

  “Want to meet my brothers?”

  “Aghhh noooo!” came my character’s groan when I led him straight off a cliff, and I threw my phone on the sofa beside me and faced Cholo.

  “Is that my fault?” he asked, looking nervous.

  “Why on earth,” I began, folding my arms, “Would I not want to meet your brothers? When are we doing this?”

 

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