II

Why do you affect me like this?

DAYS PASS BY like a blur, and I feel like a ghost trapped in my own body. When Alas died, he took a big part of me with him, and now I'm unable to function like I used to. I'm cold. So cold.

I ache a lot, too. I don't understand why. He's not even my friend, but his death left a gnawing gap in my chest that continued to grow with each day I don't see him.

I never wanted to admit it but I've gotten used to his presence. We may not talk everyday, but hearing his voice and seeing his laughter all the time turned him into an integral part of my daily life. I've gotten used to seeing him horsing around and helping people, being life itself that not having him around feels wrong, like the world has spun out of its axis and everything is in disarray.

And his accident puts a bad taste in my mouth. Why would he throw away his life for someone he doesn't even know? It's unbelievable, but it's also very him to pull a stunner even in his last moments.

"So are you coming or not?" Dior, his best friend, asks again, eyeing me from the corner of her eye. Like me and the rest of the class, she's poring over her text book and putting yellow highlights on certain texts. "It's this weekend. The gang wants you to come."

She's talking about their trip to Baguio this weekend. For a retreat or something. I don't know why she keeps asking me to come along when I've already made my lack of interest known countless times. I can't believe she's asking me again.

I don't mask the plain irritation on my face. "I told you, I'm not going."

"You should go. Alas wanted you to come. He'll be happy if you'll make it. You'll need it too, Chari."

That irritates me even further and I'm speaking before I can even catch myself, "Someone who threw his life away like a rag doll has no business influencing what the people he left behind should be doing. He left. He's not here anymore. Don't talk about him like he's still here."

Dior stops highlighting, closes her eyes, and sighs. "Look, I get it. You're grieving and hurt, that's why you're saying that. But don't talk about him like that. You know how he is, how pure his heart is. He didn't throw his life away. He sacrificed it to save someone else."

I clench my fists and look away, preferring to watch the trees outside the window than continue this conversation. A burning tugging at my chest spreads like wildfire in my system, and I clench and unclench my cold palms to release the tension.

"Alas loved you. Did you at least know that?"

Startled, I whip back to her with wide eyes. "What?"

What?

She furrows her brows and gathers her things before placing them neatly into her blue Jansport bag. "He did. Are you honestly telling me you never noticed it? Seriously?"

My mouth hangs open-in disbelief or surprise, I'm not so sure.

Dior gives me a look like she can't believe me. "Why do you think he made all that effort to be with you during outreaches despite your sour and abrasive attitude? Think, Chari. You're the exact opposite of him but he put up with you. He even wants to bring you to Baguio even though you're shitty most of the time. Why? Because somehow, despite your rough edges, he loved you. You didn't know but we all did, so we put up with you, too. I don't know about you but Alas mattered to us." She hefts the bag across her shoulder, taking another sigh. "I'm not going to force you to join anymore. But if what I said means anything to you, even for just a little bit, you'll consider and honor his wish one last time."

Her words bounce in my head even after she leaves. I find it hard to believe everything she told me, but they stay like acid, poisoning me until it's all I can ever think of.

A part of me refuses to believe, but what scares me is the other part that actually knows she's saying the truth. Because somehow, at some point, I did begin to consider the idea.

The thoughts weigh heavy in my chest, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.

And in an effort to get rid of them, I walk to her the next day to confirm that I'll be joining, on the condition that they will drop the pretenses and quit acting like they're friends with me.

Dior agrees.