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"Bakit parang. . . galit ka sa kanya?"

Hindi nakakunot ang noo ni Papa. Hindi rin masungit ang pagkatanong niya sa akin no'n. In short, hindi siya mukhang galit. He just looked concerned and all. At that moment, I realized that there was nothing to worry about. I was just being overreacting and. . . way too nervous about things I shouldn't be thinking about that much.

"Paano niyo naman po nasabi 'yan, Pa?" ang kabado kong tanong pabalik.

"Kasi. . ." ang sabi ni Papa, "parang ang sungit mo sa kanya kanina."

"Hindi po, Pa," I said, giggling. "Hindi po ako galit do'n. Mabait po 'yon."

"Totoo?" Papa gave me a funnily questioning face. I nodded again. You lied again, Preppy whispered, but she didn't sound irritating or anything.

"Totoong-totoo?" he asked again, smiling.

"Opo," I said, smiling a forced one.

I can vomit my lungs out if lying produces the same effect as laughter. My throat was already, as if, saying that I should stop lying. I wouldn't get a benefit from it, maybe, but I didn't care. Theodore is that one topic that repeats over and over again in the Science class. I mean. . . you could be so done with him within just one day.

One more thing, kung hindi man ako galit sa dead bush na 'yon, malamang ay naiinis ako sa kanya. I mean. . . sagad.

At lalong hindi ako naniniwalang mabait siya. Duh.

Wait, am I being too irritated when it comes to him?

"Anak," ang sabi ni Mama matapos niyang uminom ng kaunting tubig. "Parang pamilyar 'yong boyfriend ni Kailey. Teka, boyfriend niya ba 'yon?"

"Manliligaw lang po," ang agad kong tugon. Those three words were, like, excited to come out from my lips, and I didn't have the will to stop them. Kahit mayaman, sikat, at may hitsura si Theodore, sa palagay ko ay hindi pa rin siya safe sa paghindi ng isang Kailey De Guzman.

E, ako ba, safe?

Tumango si Mama naman sa sinabi ko, yanking me out of my thoughts, at sinabing, "Parang kamukha niya 'yong sikat ngayon sa Instagram."

I inhaled sharply. Nag-i-Instagram na pala si Mama. Why don't I even know? I thought, partly smiling. Pero. . . wait. Instagram?

"Sino pong sikat?" ang tanong ko, not quite liking the way I was finding out things about people. "Si Theodore?"

" 'Yon ba ang pangalan no'n?"

I nodded.

"Anak yata 'yon ng Hidalgo," ang medyo naguguluhang sagot ni Papa. "Hidalgo. . . 'yong may-ari ng news channel."

At sa hindi inaasahang panahon, kung kailan ako naiintriga sa sinasabi nina Mama at Papa, may narinig kaming malakas at nakakagulat na putok. Ang balloon na binigay ni Papa. Lumingon ako sa likuran ko, kung saang bintana ko itinali ang string ng balloon. Oo nga, wala na ito.

Kahit papaano ay nalungkot pa rin ako sa pagkawala niya. Wait. Ang corny pakinggan.

"Aw, pumutok na siya, bunso," ang nang-aasar na sabi ni Papa habang nakasimangot. At "bunso" ang tawag nila sa akin. . . dahil ako raw ang pinakabatang (pero pinakamatanda ring) anak nila. Cute daw kapag bunso ang tawag, at ang weird kasi pakinggan kapag ginawa nilang palayaw ko ang "panganay." They were right. Tatawagin mo ba naman ang panganay mong "panganay" bilang nickname niya?

Finally, Preppy sighed with me. Naiba na rin ang topic. I can't really stand talking about that famous dead bush.

"Pero sayang talaga anak," ang sabi ni Mama. "Dapat kakain tayo sa restaurant kasi may naitabi kami ni Papa. 'Di bale, bukas na—"

"Ma."

"Hmm?"

"Staph. Itabi niyo na lang 'yan para sa inyo ni Papa. Ako na ang bahala kung gusto niyo kumain."

Ang cheesy namin ng mga magulang ko, 'no?

"Pero anak," ang sabi ni Mama, "gusto lang naman namin magpasalamat sa'yo kasi mabait kang anak. Alam mo na 'yon. Bibihira talaga ang tulad mo, base sa napapansin ko sa mga kabataan ngayon."

"Ma," I giggled. "Hindi na ako bata."

"Ah, basta," ang natatawang sabi ni Mama. "Alam mo na 'yong ibig kong sabihin."

Their plates, I noticed, were already empty, so I stood up, collecting the plates and other utensils. I wanted this. I missed washing the dishes. After all, it is better than talking about Theodore Hidalgo and his fame and his face and his dad and his whatever.

I always liked washing dishes, anyway.

" 'Nak, ako na riyan," Mama said, standing up.

"Ako na, Ma," I smiled, taking the dishes to the sink. "Ako na rin sa lamesa. Matulog na kayo. Need niyo 'yan."

---

Days like these (or nights like these) are beautiful. You get to just hug your pillow or bolster or whatever you hug when you sleep (probably even a balled blanket) as the world shifts today into tomorrow. You have earphones plugged in your ears, and your favorite song's playing. The nights feel cold and comfortable, even though we have no air-conditioning at home. Pinakamasaya ang mga gabing ganito, 'yong wala kang iniisip, 'yong wala kang pinag-aalala. Kaso. . . after ng mga ganito, malay ko ba kung bakit, 'yon ang pinaka-stressful na araw—ang mga araw pagkatapos ng magandang pahinga.

Natatakot na tuloy ako.

I was just scrolling through my phone, being on Twitter. The light of my phone hits my face dimly as the screen filter I just installed helped me read tweets without getting blinded. Well, I wasn't using the dark mode of the app. I, somehow, liked lighter things better. Or maybe the in-between. I don't know.

I have followed some people from our workplace, but I haven't followed Kailey yet. I already saw her account, but I didn't want to follow her just yet. I was. . . shy. Yeah, I will repeat, if you ask me.

I closed my eyes, feeling the warmth of my eyelids. Just as I had already closed them fully, I felt a sudden jab on my chest. . . not by a knife or anything like it but by the bladelike intro of "A Thousand Years." Our love song. Theme song, Preppy mumbled.

The first seconds felt like hell and nostalgia and Peter. I didn't like it, of course, and I, like, told Preppy to drive Peter out of my head, but she just felt absent when I did. Like she wasn't there or just wasn't caring at all. A sudden rush or wave or whatever enveloped my head with a lot of thoughts. I mean. . . memories.

Peter used to hold my hand playfully, probably not the way you're thinking about it. He would always hold it tight, and when I would try to pull it to get it back, he would not let me. Like a child—yes—but his hand felt so manly against mine. And maybe, I loved the feeling that I always had his back. That I always had his hand around my waist.

Peter would always be so grateful for every single thing I did for him. I used to bake things using steaming because we don't have an oven. Or microwave—ah, whatever. Gawa pa 'yon sa mga powdered chocolate drink. Simple things like that.

He also tried baking because he has a microwave in his granny's house, but he would always—always—fail. Naging matigas lahat ng b-in-ake niyang cake. Hindi ko rin alam kung bakit, and it made me smile. I was just following the recipe I saw both on Google and on YouTube. And it makes me smile right now.

It occurred, as if, the anger I grasped for days, for Peter, faded and came back much softer.

Hindi ko inaasahan, pero biglang may pumatak na tig-isang luha sa magkabila kong mata. I wasn't sure if it's true—the thing that if your first tear falls from your left eye, it is because of sadness. And if the first tear comes from the right, it is caused by happiness; if both eyes happen to be the source of your first tears—like—they fall at the same time, you cry because of frustration.

Well, Preppy mumbled, what does that mean?

I wasn't frustrated. Well, maybe, over the fact that I didn't know what this feeling meant. Ugh, why do I have to feel this?

Peter wasn't a loss an hour ago. Peter wasn't someone I would cry for. He did ruin it all, really. And believe me, I would like to run away from this very thought. Gusto kong takasan ang nararamdaman kong 'to. Napaka-corny.

Within just a second, I decided to close my eyes and try to imagine sweeping thoughts away from the room in my mind like dust. Peter, I imagined, was a piece of dust from the dirty ceiling. Oh, ew. That didn't have to mean my skull is disgusting, right?

I hated Peter. Now, I hate this feeling. No, I'm not missing him.

No, I'm not missing him, I would repeat all over again like a chant. No, ew!

I sighed and opened my eyes, still thinking about the fact that he is all over my brain. Is that metacognition? I curiously thought, not thinking how dumb that may end up when answered.

I guess I have to never think about it. I guess. . . I might be really missing him.

---

Sunday was a lightning—quick, crazy, and loud (somehow). All we did was laugh and eat. Yes, I did that with my parents. Lahat ng bagay, naging mababaw at magaan, pero wala akong pinagsisisihan sa kung paano nila naiiba ang lahat ng bagay sa utak ko.

Sunday was a nice day. And like nice things, it ended way too quickly. Napuno ng katuwaan namin nina Mama at Papa ang araw kahapon. Naging sobrang stress-free ng kahapon. Nawala ang iniisip ko noong isang gabi at ang nararamdaman kong "parang nami-miss ko si Peter." Nawala rin ang lumalalim na inis ko kay—sino nga ulit 'yon?—ah, Theodore.

See? I almost forgot the name of the dead bush.

And again, they are back, right here, in my brain, to mess with everything I am thinking of. It was actually worse because I didn't care about Peter before. Unfortunately, unfortunately, he became an addend with Theodore, and that sums up to more stress.

Ew.

"Hi, Miss Glenn! Good morning!" Jasmine greeted, her face a bright smiling one. "How's your day po?"

I smiled a bit. She, really, is a bubbly one. She brightened up my day, even just for a bit, but that is extremely important because. . . let's just say, I immensely needed to smile at least once this day. The world seemed heavy today, even if I am not the Atlas who carries the world on his shoulders, and I was aware that I might just be exaggerating. Fear and anxiety over some stupid things can still drive you nuts, especially when all you want is to spend your whole week, your whole month, or your whole year at home with your parents. Well, that better don't happen because. . . success doesn't work that way for me. I'm not Kailey, Theodore, or Jasmine, remember?

"Uhm. . . it's good naman," I answered promptly but not that promptly since I ended up answering Jasmine's question late. Again. Yes, again. Like the Friday night before I came home, before the burger I ate for dinner.

And no, that's not a good thing.

"Good to know po, Miss Glenn," she giggled.

"Ikaw ba? Musta ang araw mo?" I asked, smiling. "Bakit parang ultrahappy ka ngayon? Tuwang-tuwa, ah." I chuckled.

"Malalaman niyo rin po mamaya, Miss Glenn," she giggled again and whispered, "Sabi po kasi ng friend ko roon sa kabilang department, I mustn't tell anyone. Hintayin na lang daw po 'yong official announcement."

"Ah, okay—"

"Uh. . . Miss Glenn, pinapatawag din po pala kayo ni Miss Kailey sa office niya." With that, she quickly and happily ran to her table after waving good-bye to me. Oh, she is so pure and nice.

And happy, Preppy added. I was caught off guard. Yeah, she was right. Jasmine is a happy person, and I am not. . . while I am not.

"Thank you!" ang pahabol kong sabi. "Punta na rin agad ako roon."

Start trying to be happy, sometimes, Preppy said. It doesn't hurt that bad if you try to see the brighter side of life. 'Wag puro si Theodore, Kailey, or Peter ang isipin mo.

Do I really miss him? I asked myself, softly so that Preppy, imaginarily won't hear it.

Preppy, as if, became a good version of herself, didn't she? I didn't actually care about it, but she sounded more like me than me. Her voice sounded like mine.

Uh. . . it's supposed to be really like that, right?

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