TO THE WONDERFUL BOY

It's been a while since I've seen Sam. Friday was a holiday, and on Wednesday, for some reason, our schedules clashed with one another. 

I've stopped waiting for you, wonderful boy, and I guess I have to congratulate myself for that. Things are back the way they used to be and the way they should be, and the regular girl with headphones plugged in her ears was gone from the 11:30-12 ritual she's always been practicing. The Palma Hall didn't miss her. It was still hustling and bustling with students going to and fro, and its heart was beating furiously with the chorus of noises from its different crannies. 

So without hopes of finding you, I walked down the red steps and slipped under the blazing sun. I hailed a passing jeepney, and I hopped in, unsure where these free hours would take me. 

I settled somewhere in the middle, my fingers fumbling my bag for loose change  when I felt a hand reach to stop mine and heard a voice beside me say, "I got it."

I craned my head to see Sam, smiling and handing coins to the person sitting next to me. My heart was beating rapidly as I was unprepared for this. I was unprepared to see him. I was unprepared to even talk to him. 

"Hey, are you okay?" He asked. "It's as if you've seen a ghost."

"I saw wonderful boy." The words fell off my lips without thinking, and I mentally punched myself for making such a stupid, stupid mistake. 

"And did he look like a ghost?" He asked sarcastically, and I gave him a light shove, acting as composed as possible.

"No, but... The thing is, I don't feel it anymore." I said. "I don't feel the same."

"Well," He began. "At least you should do some thinking first. The opportunity's there, after all."

"I don't want it anymore, Sam." I told him. "I want something real."

Slowly, he looked at me again, and this time crinkles appeared beneath his eyes as he grinned. Right then, I wanted to put my arms around him and tell him how he takes my breath away, but the inner coward was choking me, eating me alive and grinding me with its razor-sharp teeth bearing the words 'embarrassment'  and 'rejection'. So I didn't. 

"This is real." He reached for my hand and grabbed it, entwining his fingers between mine. I felt my cheeks flush and knees weaken, and I was hyperaware of how smelly I was or how sweaty my palms could be. 

"Yes." I replied, breathlessly. "This is real."