Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

T hings were so much better after that. Our parents noticed the swollen eyes, the sniffs (Liana), and the hiccups (me) but did not say anything. Liana whipped up a new batch of sans rival icing so Cholo and I fought over being taste-tester. Dad took a liking to Potato and played with her while the barbecue meat he prepared was marinating. Cris painstakingly shelled and deveined the biggest bowl of shrimp I had seen in my life.

I blinked and stared at the prawns, realizing something.

“Tita Cris, Cholo’s allergic to shrimp,” I said. “Do we have something else we could make for him?”

“Ay!” Cris yelped, making everyone look at her. “Thank goodness you told me! Let me check. Enzooo!”

She asked my Dad if he used all the chicken thighs and he said no, there should be at least half a kilo more left in the ref. Cris gave a sigh of relief and rushed to the freezer. She asked me to slice more aromatics, bringing the shrimp and the cookware she used outside to the dirty kitchen.

I washed the other cookwares and wiped the surfaces to make sure no traces of shellfish was left, then proceeded with my task. Cholo took over boiling the pasta and started slicing the chicken himself (“Ako naman ‘yung kakain, hehehe”). Dad took out an additional pan for Cris to use outside. The surprise task kept us all busy now as we had a separate set of pasta to make. Potato behaved well and stayed put in a spot in the kitchen, watching us cook.

All the hard work proved to be worth it. Noche Buena this year was unparalleled.

We set the table as early as 11 p.m. A Harry Potter movie played in the background while we ate. Potato was having the best time out of all of us, having so many people looking after her and fighting over her attention all at the same time.

“Luh, Dad, how many glasses of that have you had? Ang pula mo na!” I nagged as I got myself another serving of seafood alfredo.

Beside me, Cholo had the serving bowl of the chicken alfredo all to himself. Liana now had a small mountain of barbecue sticks on her plate and was laughing at everything while Cris just watched us all with a tired smile on her face.

“I don’t know! But this is good. Thank you for the champagne, Cholo!” Dad said, and I slapped my palm against my forehead. “But you know the best present I got this year? It’s Vinnie talking to me again. Merry Christmas!”

I cringed at the sappiness of it all and then I got an idea.

“Since bati na tayo, will you let me go to Seoul this summer?” I said, complete with my best mabait face.

The parents looked surprised, Liana looked impressed, and Cholo watched my dad’s reaction.

“If you finish this term without getting delayed or landing another visit at the disciplinary office, then we’ll talk.”

Liana burst into laughter, making Potato jump from her lap. Cholo pursed his mouth shut, determined not to let even a chuckle escape as I gave him a warning look.

At about 1 a.m., Cris brought out the dish everyone was waiting for—the sans rival. It was a good thing that Liana made two batches because they ended up sharing one pan (Dad, Cris, and Liana) while Cholo and I shamelessly fought over the other.

As promised, Cholo and I washed the dishes together and told everyone else to hit the sack. They had all gone upstairs by the time we finished so we were also tasked with turning off the TV and all of the lights. Potato stayed put in her little spot in the kitchen and Cholo left the litter box in the corner for her to use in the night.

Dad had insisted for him to stay over (he must have really liked that champagne) and attend the mass with us tomorrow morning.

“I can sleep here, it’s okay,” Cholo said as I waited for him. “There are pillows here.”

“No, the sofa upstairs is much nicer. Come on. Potato will be okay here.”

I led him to the second floor and got some spare linens and pillows from my cabinet. I unfolded the sofa bed, lined the sheets, and handed him a pillow and a blanket.

“Your family’s awesome,” he told me as 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. “Wait. Antok ka na? You wanna see my terrace?”

“You have your own terrace? Rich kid talaga, o! Let me see,” he said so I pulled him off the sofa. He scratched 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 it felt too stuffy inside my room. I squeezed myself through the window and tried to balance 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 asked, leaning towards my spot as he tried to look. “Is that even safe?”

“Yeah, just remember to get a good grip on the sampayan when you land,” I said. Then I had an evil idea. “Hala!”

He jumped in his spot from the shock, almost losing his balance. I pulled him right back towards me just in time to keep him from falling.

“Vinnie!” he yelled and I had to cover his mouth because my family 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.

“You must have seen your face!” I said, much to his chagrin. “O, ayan. Have a seat.”

“Hindi mo na ako itutulak?”

“I’m still thinking about it,” I replied and then steered him down towards the mat using his shoulders so that he had no choice but to sit down. I took a seat beside him, feeling the cool wind 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 Irish Spring.

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

“Excuse you, sir, I’ve actually been dealing with my emotions so much better these past few weeks,” I said defensively. “Also, gets mo na ‘yon, sometimes I don’t even need words to tell you whatever I’m feeling at the moment.”

“So we’re really close now, huh?” he teased.

“Sometimes, it’s scary. I pull a face and you already know what’s going on. Like what happened the other night at Gian’s house. I was so thankful that you were there and you just knew what to do. It’s a little funny thinking that now when months ago we don’t even acknowledge each other in class.”

“Mostly your fault, Ms. Fandom Master with more than five thousand followers.”

“Excuse you, Mr. Head Disciplinary Prefect and Accounting Mamaw. You weren’t so approachable either.”

He just laughed at that.

“But really, I’m grateful. Words aren’t my strong suit so having you around is like a miracle of sorts,” I said.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Like, when I was younger, I would yell or whatever because I don’t usually feel listened to.” I frowned, still staring at the sky.

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

“Aren’t you tired of me yet? 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?”

“Cutting classes?” I offered.

“Hey, that was one time,” he countered, referring to that day he did not 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. “Man, that side of you was scary. You were tough and you never let others win, and sometimes, bwisit na bwisit ako sa tigas ng ulo mo.”

“So I take it you’re not scared or bwisit anymore?”

“Not quite. Uy, alam mo, Katniss reminded me a lot of you when I watched The Hunger Games the other day.”

“Yeah? You think I’d make a good tribute?” I said, moving away from his shoulder to look at him.

He closed his eyes in exasperation. “See? It’s so you. You avoid stuff. You can spin anything into a joke without reading the room and you’ve gotten so used to it that you’ve become unaware that you’re hurting people.”

“Where did that one come from? Are we still talking about The Hunger Games here?” I demanded.

“There you go.” he said, scratching his nose and avoiding my eyes. “See? Manhid.”

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

“Matulog ka na nga. We’re supposed to attend mass tomorrow morning,” he said, standing up suddenly.

I followed suit and punched his arm hard.

“Aray, Lavinia!” he complained.

“‘Tanginang ‘to,” I barked. “What did I do to you? Why are you telling me these things and then tell me to sleep?”

“Do you have any idea how difficult it is,” he snapped, gritting his teeth as he rubbed the spot on his shoulder that I hit, “whenever you speak to me like this and you—” He stopped midway through his sentence, looking at a loss for words. Cholo then groaned at the heavens and turned his back on me, throwing his hands in the air.

“But I don’t understand!” I answered. “What’s difficult?”

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

“Figured out what?” I asked, frustrated now. My heart was doing these flips inside my ribcage and again, I could not think straight. “Do you want me to push you off this roof?”

“No need,” he snapped but his voice was now a mere whisper. “It’s already killing me that everyone else can see I’m in love with you and you can’t.”