le-an lai lacaba | What's your story?

Moments before eighteen

Prologue:
If you’re reading this on the fourth of October, then it’s already too late-it means I’ve turned eighteen and now a legal resident of the Republic of the Philippines. I may or may have not been brainwashed into thinking like adults, or I have escaped that life. If I have not, then I may have turned into a drone, mindlessly following the rules of life. But if I haven’t, then I will carry on as I am, a misfit whose goal is to write at least ten books in my lifetime, and to become someone that people look up to.

Story:
As I sit here in front of my computer, typing these very words, I am savouring my last day of being seventeen. I’m thinking over all the pros and cons of being eighteen, and if there are more cons, I will try to find an elixir that will help me remain a seventeen year old forever. Here are the facts:

Pros:

I can go on fieldtrips without parent’s consent.
I can get my passport, driver’s license and etc. without parent’s consent.
Basically get legal documents without a letter of consent.
I can drive without having someone with a professional license in the car.
In the Philippines, you can only get a job when you’re eighteen.
I can enter contests that require me to be eighteen.
I can finally check that box that says “18+”
I can go on rides that require me to be eighteen.
I get to sit on the adults table.
I get to watch movies that are for 18+

Cons:

In the Philippines, when you’re under eighteen and you’re caught doing something illegal, you can’t be arrested. Therefore when I’m eighteen, I can get arrested if I do anything illegal.
I will be expected to act “grown up”
It would mean that soon, I’d be graduating college and starting my own life. (No more running to momma)
I can’t play anymore children games because I’d be seen as immature.
I have to do what grown ups do. (I have no definite idea what that is.)
People will call me ma’am. That makes me sound old.
Just being expected to be mature.

Epilogue:

As I have read and calculated my findings, it seems that there aren’t enough reasons for me not to become eighteen. So I shall proceed with this task that the future has given me. But I vow to myself, to never lose my child-at-heart persona, even when drones suck my brain to make me a “valuable” asset to society. Wish me luck world. 😀

When September ends

The darkness of the room envelopes me,

erasing my chances of being glee.

With Green Day playing in the background,

I say my thoughts aloud.

I think about the things I’ve done,

Whether or not I’ve been a good son.

The blaring of the TV fills the house,

making my radio seem as quiet as a mouse.

I rest my head on the pillow,

waiting for the tears to fall.
I then hear a knock on my door,
so towards it, I slowly start to crawl.

“I told you to wake me up when September ends!”
I say to my intruder.
I rest my head onto the wall,
the coldness on my skin made me shudder.

The banging went louder,
the door handle shook.
Just when I was ready for my doom,
I heard my mother say:
“It’s already October! Clean your room!”

——————————

Happy October everyone! 😀

Can I do humor or what? If you didn’t get it, then I failed 😛

On being a godmother

In the Philippines, it is well known that religion is important to us. And every religion has baptism, and earlier today I got to be one of the godmothers for a family friend. It was honestly my first time to become a godmother, but since I saw the little angel, I couldn’t say no!

World, meet Maria Divina Lacambra

Minutes before the mass started, I began taking pictures of her, the parents and the other godparents.

With her parents and godparents

During the mass, I couldn’t help but steal glances at the little girl. She’s only four months old yet she’s ready to empower the world with her cuteness! When the ceremony started, the little girl was asleep! Here she was, about to be welcomed into the Christian world and she was sleeping. How cute.

She was then baptized by water, and she merely stirred in her sleep as the water was poured on her head.

When the ceremony was done, she was became a Christian! (insert loud applause here) We then proceeded to their house, where they prepared a little feast in celebration of the new addition to the religion.

This picture took me a long time to take because she’s so moody! Good thing I captured this smile.

I think that being a godmother means that you have to be a good influence, and I take full responsibility on that. I just hope I fit the role! I’m still seventeen afterall. By the time she’s ten, i’d be twenty seven! We’d be like sisters 😀

She’s a bit grumpy here, getting tired of being passed from one person to the other!

Being the photographer for the day, I was rarely in the pictures! So I stealthily took a selfie. (Insert evil laugh here)

6 word stories

Following the mighty footsteps of Ernest Hemingway who wrote a story with six words for a bet worth ten dollars (the story is found here) , I have put my writing skills to the test. I have written ten stories with six words,some of them an inspiration from a movie, since unlike Hemingway my life hasn’t been that dramatic. Enjoy!

He cheated. She won the lottery.
A wedding. “Bridal march” never played.
He died. She could see him.
His leg snapped. Best selling book.
After years of waiting, “I do.”
Years of writing. Pen finally breaks.
Unsinkable ship. Love frozen in time.
The basketball player. Rejected by bookworm.
She loves him. He loves Luke.
A funeral. Five wives. Eighteen children.

The mirror’s presage

An abrupt pain causes me to look at my arm, and I stealthily swat the buzzing culprit away. My groggy eyes look up, the eerie silence slowly creeping up to me. It was almost like those cowboy movies were there was a whistle of wind blowing the sand and a tumbleweed would pass by. Except in my reality the wind was caused by a fan blowing very fast(the controls were broken) that it would actually better if I turned it off, and the tumbleweed was the unopened envelopes that were blown by the fan.

I stand up for the fourteenth time since the office closed at eight, and to be honest I thought I was going to lose some weight after standing up for so many times and picking up runaway envelopes. But when I sit back down my belly just protruded itself. I sigh, and I return to sorting out the envelopes. I glance at the clock, and I groan when I see that it has only been two hours since I started. I reach for another parchment, and I notice that it had something heavy inside it. I felt curious, knowing that people rarely sent letters with objects in it. I look around, and I mentally slap myself. No one was here. I’m alone. Very slowly, and clumsily if I may add, I opened the brown covered parchment. I heard a jingle as I reached my hand into it.

“Joel.”

I heard a soft whisper, and my heart beats louder. A million thoughts rushed into my head, the one dominating was someone caught me.

“Joel.”

I hear it again, and goosebumps erupt all over my body. After a few moments everything becomes quiet again, and I gulp down hard then I take out the object from the package. When I look at it, I see my own reflection. For a moment I felt my soul leave my body, but then I realized it was a mirror with a small key chain. I understood where the jingling sound came from, but it still didn’t explain why I heard someone call my name.

“Joel.”

A buff voice called, and I almost dropped the mirror. I shakily looked around, and I sighed to myself thinking that after 5 years of working here every night alone, it was only now that I was imagining things. I shake the feeling off, but then I hear it again. And my eyes widened when I realized where the sound came from.

“Joel.”

With shaky hands, I hold the mirror. I turn it around, and I felt my heart stop for a moment. My reflection, if it was my reflection, was staring right at me. My jet black hair became all white, and I wrinkles that were never there. But that didn’t freak me out. No. It was the fact that my eyes were rolled over my head, so that it only showed the white part. There was blood currently dripping from my nose. My mouth was open, my teeth cracked. And the creepiest part? The blood came out of the mirror and was dripping on my khaki pants. Just when I was about to look away, a haunted laugh rang through the silent office.

“Joel. Silly Joel. You’re stuck here forever.”

The reflection moved it lips, although it’s pupils were still missing and the nose hasn’t stopped bleeding.

“Someday Joel, you’ll look like this.”

I slam the mirror unto my cubicle wall, and it smashed into pieces. Another laugh echoed, and in horror I saw one of the pieces of the broken mirror sticking into my arm. I slowly remove it, closing my eyes as I endured the pain. But when I opened my eyes, I only saw the dead mosquito I have killed only minutes ago. I cold chill ran up my spine, and I see the parchment in front of me, unopened. I hurriedly got my coat and caught a cab home.

The next day, a package arrived.

From womb to the tomb

Earlier today, my professor asked us, “What is meaning?”

We were studying our semantics lesson- the meaning of words in a sentence. So when our professor asked us what is meaning, we were dumbfounded. How do you define something that you use to define things? Our professor then expounded the thought, and we came to the topic of defining ourselves by our meaning in life. And this became my inspiration for this post.

So now I will ask you:

What is YOUR meaning?

How do you define yourself?

When we were born, we were defined as our parents’ daughter/son. Growing up, we were defined by the playmates we had and how we were raised. When we go to school we’re defined as a student, whether we were diligent or not. When we had our first girl/boyfriend we were defined by who they were, and what we did with them. When we go to work, we are defined by our job, and where we work. We become “hubby” or “wifey”, then mom or dad. We get old, and little versions of us call us “grandpa” or “grandma”. And then, inevitably, we die. What definition does the world give us next? Gone.

Throughout our lives, we are defined by what we do, who we’re with and what we’ve accomplished. We search for the meaning of life, of who we are. We cover ourselves with material things, thinking that with it comes the true definition of who we are. We comply to the status quo, and when we die, we simply turn into dust. What good have we done then?

We don’t realize that we can make our own definition. We can live life to the way we want it, and not through what other people want. We can sway from the social expectations, and we can surprise ourselves with what we can do. So that even when we’re six feet below the ground, we still have a definition. Either we’re the ones who never took a single risk, or we’re someone who made everyone cry at our funeral because we were an inspiration to them.

So what will it be? An inspiration? Or someone forgotten? Because life won’t give us our definition. We do.

Bitterly in love

His lips slowly touch my ears, and he says “I love you.” I turn away from him, giving him a pointed look. It was in a way a PDA (public display of affection), and I hated PDA. And he knew it too. I scowl at him, and walk away from him. As predicted he runs after me, and once again anger seeps into my body when he grabs my hand. I ignore the butterflies in my stomach and I squat his hand away. His face shows a hint of sadness, but he walks behind me anyway.

A moment later I lace my fingers with his, and he smiles at me. I know he’s confused, but so am I. We walk together hand-in-hand, doing a HHWW (holding hands while walking), when I suddenly jerk my hand away from him. He whimpers, yes whimpers like a puppy, but doesn’t say anything. Next thing I know I pull him into a hug, and he smiles widely, almost creepily. I ignore him for the next few minutes, and he tries to get my attention. I notice him, then I push away again. Trust me, this is how I normally am. Confusing? Yes. But before you start throwing rocks at me for being cruel to him, hear me out.

Let me start from the beginning. I was and is currently a hopeless romantic. From the ripe age of four, Disney has filled my mind with thoughts of a prince on a white horse. I had my first crush when I was five, and until now I know his name. I loved pictures of married couples, and I even kept a picture of my parent’s wedding in a “treasure box”. I grew up seeing my parents in love, and I always wanted something like that. I had a few crushes along the way to high school (like 10 maybe?), and I made my first love story at 11. I loved to day dream of being swept off my feet, by some handsome rich guy. I even made a whole checklist about what I wanted in a guy. Disney does that to kids. So I bet you’re wondering how that girl became this bitter almost-lady?

If some of you have read about my post on bullies, they were one of the factors. A lot of people ridiculed my thoughts of love, but it wasn’t the reason I despise it. When I reached high school, I began to read more mature novels, and in plain language I was exposed to the heartbreaks of love. Seeing my friends fall in and out of love, I began to doubt it. But a part of me still believed in love. Little did I know that small spark of optimism in me though I was faced with reality shaped my personality of being a realist optimist. And when I felt my first heartbreak, I was a bit dramatic. I forced, yes, forced, myself to cry, listened to sad songs and I wrote. After a few minutes I felt pathetic, and I mentally promised myself to try to not be that pathetic again. That’s when I kind of numbed my heart from love, yet still believing that it existed. A complete paradox, but hey, life isn’t a straight line.

And so you could imagine a sappy romantic who cried over sad novels, who wears her heart on her sleeve, be so negative when it came to love. A few years more I experienced more heartbreaks, a lot of them self-inflicted, but I didn’t cry over them that much. That was until I fell in love with someone. Someone who I’d frantically catch before hitting the ground, after pushing him off the balcony.

Love really is crazy. Just when I felt genuinely crazy with this guy, my realist side knows not to get too attached. I know the way my eyes dilate when I see him, the way I can’t help but smile when he looks at me, the way everything feels right, it just scares me. I easily cry over stupid arguments, but I quickly recover, putting on a numb facade. Then it quickly melts when I hear his voice over the phone crying, or something bad happens to him. Even when I’m monumentally angry, it quickly disappears when I feel that he needs me. It’s frustratingly sweet, the way that no matter how I tell him to get lost, he bounces his way towards me, his heart bare, a yellow rose in hand, and a sorry smile on his face. It’s a crazy love-hate relationship, the hate mostly coming from me.

But I guess that’s love you know? Even when that person is on your number one hit list, you’d still drop everything to be by their side when they need you. And you know that they would do the same with you. ♥
________________________
to get more imagination on what I do to the poor boy, here’s the exaggerated version.
p.s., i love adam levine. 😀

Where have all the nice guys gone?

Nowadays, they say being nice is overrated. They say chivalry is dead. They say that being nice is so tiring when the world is cruel and evil. I beg to differ.

First, let me define a nice person. It is someone who does things selflessly, without asking for anything in return. This is someone who likes doing things for people without forgetting themselves. These people are usually taken for granted, mostly bullied and are tossed aside. Believe me, I know. And these very people who shun and hate nice people are the one who actually have the balls to ask why there aren’t more nice people.

In this generation, where people are encouraged to be themselves and all that, less and less want to be nice. They want to stand up for themselves, to be strong and different. Now this isn’t wrong. What’s wrong is that some people overdo it and become mean. Plus another factor in some people being mean is the messed up dating system. Girls go for douche bags, while men go for the girl version of douche bags. But after a while they get tired, and try to find nice people. In the end though the nice people are pushed to become douche bags, resulting in a huge scarcity with people who are just nice. People do things for their own personal gain, and everything they do must be returned in some form. And this, ladies and gentlemen, is the reason this world has become cruel and selfish. They say being nice is too easy and that there isn’t a challenge in it.

Now here is my opinion: being nice is the hardest thing to do. You have to be nice to people you hate. You have to hold back your tongue when someone says something cruel at you. You want to do things without nothing in return, just because you want to. You have to be patient, and not to mention be always be a shoulder to lean on. And with Freud saying that we are naturally aggressive, this is opposite of who we are.

But I tell you what. Being nice to people is actually heartwarming. When you secretly do something for someone, and you watch them from a distance be happy, it’s feels more awesome than winning money. When you know you changed some one’s day, when you know that you affected their life in a good way, it’s priceless. Just a small smile, or a simple “hi” can change some one’s outlook.

In this cruel world as some may say, being nice can go a long way. A small comment about how they look, as long as you’re sincere can drastically change the way they look at themselves. And to some extent, you can help people live on with their life. For example, let’s say a frustrated writer like myself who is trying to reach out to people decides to give up writing. But one simple comment, as long as you’re really true about it, can help. Every little thing you do, as long as it comes from your heart, can mean a whole lot to someone.

And so the next time you decide to do something and you feel under appreciated, let it be. Even if no one saw it, He saw it. Besides, the feeling you get when you know you helped someone is worth more than the world’s attention.

Ms. Zoom-in

“Ruby!”

I hear someone call my name from afar. I look around me, and I can’t find where the voice is coming from. I squint my eyes, and sure enough I see my superfriend Le-an from the other side of the road. She waves at me, and crosses the road as the traffic light becomes green.

“Your ‘zooming in’ powers are amazing.” she jokes just as she hugs me.

I stick my tongue out to her like an eighteen year old should, as we walk into the donut cafe. We wait for our other friends to arrive, as we munched on some tiny donuts.

“Sooo. Do you have a boyfriend?” Le-an asks.

I laugh at her question, and she raises her left brow at me. My laugh is cut short when I see who comes into the cafe. I didn’t have to squint my eyes to know who came in. With his bowl haircut and pimply face, I hung my head low. Le-an notices it immediately, and her eyes shot daggers at the loathed specimen who’s a sorry excuse for a human being. Visions of fluffy elephants and my high school uniform flash into my mind, and I try my best to shake them out. Luckily my four other friends come in, completely ignoring the specimen near the counter. They sit down in front of me, blocking my view of him. They huddle protectively, and I smiled at their gesture.

“What do you want me to do with him?” Alyssa,my best friend, asks. She pulls her sleeve up like getting ready for a brawl, but I simply laugh at her.

“Nothing. I’m over him anyways.”

The five of them look at each other, then looks back at me. We soon forget about him when one of them opens their mouths. We shift from one topic to the other, and with us six girls in one table, it’s like a whole crowd chattering away. Soon enough an old lady shushes us, and we all talk in whispers but utterly fail because once again the old lady curses at our noise. We look at each other in silence, gather our stuff and walk out the cafe. As soon as we all step out, we burst out laughing at our antics. We soon hug each other goodbye, and we go to our different schools. I missed the times when we belonged to the same school, but it made up for the times that we met with each other.

I climb on the jeepney on the way to school, and my thoughts drift away to a day two years ago, during my freshmen year of college. Everything was falling apart between me and him, and it was only a matter of time before things ended the way it did. The jeepney suddenly stops, thrusting me forward, ending my reverie. I hold on for dear life as I held a person’s arm, screaming a bit. The driver apologizes, and we look at the almost hit to the Toyota car in front of us. Suddenly the driver hops off the vehicle, and screams profanities at the Toyota driver.

“Ouch.”

I look up at the source of the voice, and I saw dark brown eyes looking at me in annoyance. That’s when I realize that I was still clutching someone’s arm, and I let go. I look down, hoping he doesn’t see how embarrassed I was. The vehicle then starts to move again, and soon enough I reach my school. Annoyed boy hops off before I do, and I walk slowly behind him. He rubs his arm and I feel guilty again. He then looks back to me and smiles. He approaches me and runs his hand through his hair. It made my heart skip a bit, and I willed myself to stutter the words

“S-sorry”

“I should be the one who should be sorry. I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

The sincerity of his voice catches me off guard, and I look up to him. He was really tall, and for my 5’2 height I was just at his shoulder level. He smiles at me and holds out his hand.

“I’m Michael.”

I stare at his hand for a few minutes, and finally I shake it. Sparks flew from my hand to my heart, and I smiled at him.

“Ann Ruby.”

———————————-
When I went home on Friday evening, I turned on my computer as always. I checked my Facebook, and I smile when I see that Michael added me as his friend. I begin to go stalker mode, I mean admirer mode, and checked his account. He was a senior student, and he didn’t open his Facebook that much. I was disappointed that I didn’t learn so much, and just logged off the computer.

I sit on my bed and I put on my glasses as I begin to study for tomorrow’s quiz. Soon enough I drift into slumber, and for some reason I dream of someone I haven’t dreamt of for a while. We were in our high school homeroom, and he was just looking at me. My heart melted the way that his eyes were just on me. He held my hand and leans in for a kiss. He suddenly laughs, and I see him in his college uniform with another girl.

“Ann Ruby? She’s just an ex. You’re better.”

He whispers to the girl’s ear, who just giggles. The girl turns around and I see that she looked almost like me, and I run away from them. That’s when I woke up, with the light streaming from my window. I shook my head with thoughts of my ex, and simply walked towards the bathroom to do my morning ritual. My head was still confused on why I dreamt of him, when I was over him years ago. I had plenty of crushes after him, but I didn’t get a boyfriend because I wanted to put my studies first. I sigh deeply as I put on my pencil skirt uniform and walked towards our kitchen.

When I reach school, I was just in time before the teacher walked in. I do my best to concentrate on the lesson, but my thoughts kept drifting to my dream. It couldn’t just have happened without a reason right? I try to think of reasons why I dreamt of him, and concluded that I was just stressed with finals coming up. I am pulled from my thoughts when I hear people getting up from their seats, and I realize that class was over. I mentally slap myself for not listening to the teacher, and I walk on to my next class. I shove through the throngs of people who were also rushing to their classes. Stephanie runs towards me and smiles widely.

“Hi Rubyyyy”

She says, stressing out the last letter. I smile at her as we get into our next room. I shove my hand into my bag, and I frantically try to find my eyeglass. My eyes widen as I realize that I might have left them in the other room, but I remember that I kept it in the front pocket of my bag. I slump on my chair, realizing that it might have fallen while walking. I then see a bright reflection, and I see my glasses in someone’s hand. And not just anyone’s hand. It was Michael’s.

“I saw this fall from your bag earlier.”

He says, smiling at me. My lips tug and curve into a smile at my eyeglass savior, and I mumble a thank you. He then waves goodbye as he goes to his room. Which was right next to my room. I felt my day instantly turn around, and I look at Stephanie who smiles at me knowingly. That’s when I concluded that I had a crush on Michael. And I was happy.

—————————————-
From that day on I always tried to take a peek in the room beside mine whenever the teacher didn’t come. I always saw the back of Michael’s head, and I always felt disappointed. I did it again anyways. I noticed other things about him, like how he was thin and that he was a bit silent in class. He always seem to know when I was looking at him, and he sometimes turns around and smiles.

‘Staring at me again?’

I smile when I read his text. We exchanged numbers a few days ago, and he was a hilarious guy. I look up from my phone and see him looking at me from across the canteen.

‘Look who’s talking.’

I text back. It doesn’t take long before he replies.

‘You’re quite hard not to stare at.’

I stupidly grin, and my classmates look at me. One of my friends steals my phone and her eyes grow wide at the text. She nudges my arm, and looks between me and Michael. I take my phone back, and I shove it into my pocket. I feel someone sit beside me, and I look up to see him. My heart jumps high, hoping he’d catch it.

“Why did you stop texting?”

His voice travels from my ears to my heart, making it leap higher.

“They took my phone”

He simply smiles at me, and opened his mouth to talk. Just then a pair of thin arms encircle his eyes, and long flowing hair covers the side of his face.

“Guess who”

The girl says, clearly enjoying what she’s doing. Michael holds her hand, and my heart drops 30 feet below sea level. He then takes the girl’s hands off, and he smiles at her. He walks off when she grabs him by his arm, dragging him to God knows where. I look at my lunch, suddenly losing my appetite. I scold myself for not thinking that he might have a girlfriend. Standing up from my chair I walk to my next class and I bury my head onto my arms. I try to empty my mind of Michael, and I felt like it was a repeat of a past. I sigh, thinking that history does repeat itself. At least I didn’t fall for him.

———————————-
I squint my eyes as I find for Chenee. We were in the mall for our usual hang-out, and I forgot my glasses making it hard for me to look for my friend in the food court. I see a hand waving at me, and I walk towards it, hoping it was her. My whole body stiffens when I realize it was Michael, but it was too late to walk away. I haven’t seen him in school, avoiding him. I haven’t even replied to any of his texts. I respected guys who had girlfriends, because I knew how girls felt when their boyfriend is close to another girl.

“Hi Ann Ruby.”

He smiles at me, or I think he does, and I awkwardly smile back.

“Want to join us?”

My heart ached when he gestured to him and the canteen girl and I shake my head. And as if on cue, I see Carrie walk towards me with Divine.

“Where have you been? Chenee is over there.”

She points to the other side of the food court, and I squint my eyes to see Chenee. I say good bye to Michael and the still unnamed girl, and walk with my friends. I’ve known them for most of my life, and I rarely saw them because of our schedules at school.

“So who was that guy?” Divine asks.

“Nobody.”

They don’t ask further, and soon Stephanie, Alyssa and Le-an arrive.

“Where’s Hannah?” Alyssa asks as she sits down.

“I texted her, but she didn’t reply.”

Soon enough we were lost in each other’s conversations. Luckily we were in a more public place, therefore there were no old ladies to scold us for being noisy.We ended up deciding to watch a movie, and as we walk into the theater I saw a familiar tall figure sit in front of us. He was surprisingly alone, but I tried my best to focus on the movie. After the movie we all went home.

Unfortunately for me, Michael got on the jeepney I was riding in. He sat two people away from me, and I sighed with relief that I wouldn’t be facing him the whole ride home. The rest of the ride was uneventful, that was until I passed my fare to him. Our hands touched lightly, and that familiar spark traveled from my skin. Our eyes locked, and I immediately pulled my hand away and he passed my fare to the driver. I got out the jeepney when I saw my house, and I turned around without saying goodbye to him.
————————————
On the last day of the finals I was feeling sky high. I was finally over half of my junior year in college, and semestral break was just around the corner. I smiled to myself thinking that I would see my friends again and I was too much lost in thought that I bumped into someone.

“Sorry.”

“Did you know that was the first thing you said to me?”

My head immediately shot up, and I saw a grinning Michael looking down at me. I noticed that he had a new haircut, making him look more dreamy. I snapped my head back down, and walked away. I then felt sparks flowing from my arm, and I saw that Michael was holding it.

“Can we please talk?”

He looked at me with pleading eyes, and for some reason I nodded.

“Why have you been avoiding me?”

I swallow hard, and I bravely look at him.

“Because you have a girlfriend” I whispered.

Silence took over, and I didn’t know if it was comfortable or not. I didn’t know if he heard me or not. I was just about to say it again when he cut me off.

“Sam isn’t my girlfriend. She’s my sister.”

My jaw dropped six feet into the ground, and my heart was beating lively after almost a month of staying still. He looked at me in the eye, and said.

“Did you really think I’d keep texting you if I had a girlfriend? I’m a loyal guy Ruby. I wouldn’t text someone I like if I had a girlfriend.

My lips curled a bit at what he said. But I was still speechless. All that effort to avoid him, and it was useless. Sparks once again flew when he held my hand. I was surprised, but I didn’t say anything. That’s when I realized that even though I tried to zoom out my feelings on him, my heart still squinted and zoomed in. We slowly made our way to the school gate, our hands still intertwined.
—————————————-

This story was fictional except for the characters that I based them upon.
Here’s Ann Ruby. She’s my superfriend in real life, super nice yet has the ability to be evil. 😀

And here’s our barkada:

Ann Ruby, Chenee, Divine, Alyssa, Stephanie, Carrie, Me, Sharmaine and Frances 🙂

As for Michael, he only exists in the vast world of fiction 😀

Yes or no?

My hands were sweaty and my feet were actually shaking. There she was, in all her beauty as we ran into each other in the empty hall of the school. She was with her classmate, and I was with a friend. She seemed to come out of nowhere, but I beamed. She was singing “All by myself” loudly,and immediately stopped when she saw me and smiled. She already knew I liked her. And she seems so cool with that fact. Ever since I admitted it to her last Saturday, I couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t even wait til Monday came so I could see her again.

All day I’ve tried to catch a glimpse of her, and she seemed to pop out of nowhere just as I was thinking of her. It was like she read my mind or something. Although I chickened out to go to the cafeteria for lunch because I knew she would be there, I really wanted to see her. She gave my feet an extra bounce. When I saw her after lunch, she just pinched me and even noticed my haircut. I smiled widely, and pinched her back.

I’ve liked her for three years now, and I just came around to telling her because I knew after Graduation Day there was less chance to tell her. She made me feel like/love at first sight, since the moment I saw her face peering into our classroom looking for her friend when I was eleven(yes, ELEVEN). She swept me off my feet that moment, even though I should have done the sweeping since I was the guy. I met her officially through my friend, and with shaky hands and puberty peering everywhere, I introduced myself to her. I never wanted to wash my hands, especially when she said I was the first guy to shake her hand during introductions.

Now going back to what was really happening in front of me, I saw her turn to the left, going towards where I was headed. She was whispering something to her friend. Suddenly, I didn’t know what came over me, but I grabbed her arm and made her turn to me. Her friend walked on, not even noticing her absence. My friend walked on too, knowing what I was going to do.

I held her hand, and felt that it was soft and small. My heart raced faster than any car, as I knelt down in front of her, and I could see her blush. It was darn cute. I shook off the instinct of daydreaming, and looked up to her eyes. ‘You’re fourteen years old. Get a grip’ I told myself. I must have looked like a lost puppy before I finally blurted out:

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

I swear my heart stopped, waiting for her answer. She smiled, unable to control herself. She then whispered,

“Maybe.”

And walked away towards her friend. I was dumbfounded, and I grinned so much that my cheeks hurt. That one word, two syllables. Even when she said maybe, at least she didn’t say no right? I’m going to court her, like they did in the old days and then ask her again to be my girlfriend when the time is right.

(more than two years later, we’re still together)