Waiting For Delivery

CHAPTER SIX

The room smelled like menthol rub, leftover shrimp chips, and a crime scene of sleep-deprived decisions. I cracked my eyes open, feeling the weight of my own head like it had detached and reattached overnight—but slightly crooked.

On the floor beside my bed, Lea was sprawled sideways, hugging an empty pack of Skyflakes like a teddy bear. Janine was half-curled up by the foot of the bed, one slipper on, the other somewhere in the void. Mark was snoring softly from a makeshift pillow made out of folded towels.

There were five of us in the room, but it felt like ten. Someone’s phone alarm had been going off for two straight minutes with the soothing trauma of "Marikit" at low volume.

“Ano’ng nangy—aray.” I sat up and instantly regretted it. My head throbbed in slow, deliberate waves.

From the corner, Mark groaned. “Parang ginulpi ako ng tatlong Tito.”

Lea shifted, grunted, then whispered, “May buhay pa ba? ‘Di ako sure kung panaginip lang yung nagsasayaw si Janine kagabi ng Kembot Queen sa ilalim ng kumot.”

“Panaginip mo mukha mo,” Janine mumbled from the floor. “Nag-Kembot ako with dignity. Inatake ako ng beat.”

I pressed my palms to my eyes. “Guys, what time is it?”

“Past ten,” Lea answered, still not moving. “Salamat sa Diyos, day off.”

We all let out tired, grateful sighs.

“Ang init,” Mark muttered, dragging himself to sit. “Sino may initiative magbukas ng electric fan?”

“Yung may lakas pa,” I said, dramatically throwing an arm toward the plug. “I offer my moral support.”

Janine groaned as she sat up and pulled the cord with a dramatic flourish. “There. Fan’s on. May we all survive this national emergency.”

We sat in silence for a while, the fan giving weak relief. The memory of last night’s session started creeping back in—slow, fragmented, and hilarious.

“Wait lang,” Lea said, suddenly alert. “Naalala ko, sino yung nag-iyak kahapon tungkol sa hindi pa raw siya ready magka-jowa?”

All heads turned to Mark.

He blinked. “Hoy! Hindi ako yun!”

“Siya nga!” Janine burst out laughing. “Sabi niya, ‘Hindi ako ready... pero kung may dumarating, baka destiny.’”

“Tagos!” I shouted, immediately wincing from the volume. “Pero totoo. May wisdom.”

Mark covered his face with a pillow. “Y’all are fake friends.”

“You were the one who poured your heart into a plastic cup,” Lea teased.

I stood slowly and tiptoed to the small mirror. My hair looked like I wrestled with a fan. I tried to smooth it down. “Wala ba tayong noodles diyan? Parang may rally sa sikmura ko.”

“Sa drawer!” Janine called, “Second layer, left side. Emergency noodles and crackers—curated collection.”

I rummaged and found two cups of instant Mama noodles. “Pwede na pang-sambang umaga.”

Mark stood and stretched, revealing a shirt with a ketchup stain. “Gutom na rin ako. Pero wait, bakit may towel sa bintana?”

“Tinatakpan natin kagabi,” Lea reminded him, “para hindi makita ‘yung ilaw habang umiinom tayo. Kala mo na-magic curtain lang?”

We all laughed again—louder this time, freer.

Then, the laughter softened. Janine sat cross-legged on the floor, looking around. “I know bawal, but last night was nice. I needed that.”

“Same,” I nodded. “It’s weird, no? Parang hindi natin planado, pero sobrang gaan sa loob.”

“Parang pamilya,” Lea whispered.

“Dysfunctional,” Mark corrected, “pero pamilya.”

The room was warm, not from the air, but from the shared space. From knowing that even far from home, someone else also had a hangover—and memories of laughing until it hurt.

I passed the noodle cups around, pouring hot water carefully from our communal kettle.

“Cheers,” I said.

“Cheers,” everyone echoed—raising cups filled not with alcohol, but a little comfort, a little healing, and a whole lot of love from last night.

The night market buzzed like a low-humming song. Skewers sizzled in stalls, the sweet and spicy scent of moo ping drifted through the air, and everything felt alive. The buzz, the crowd, the colors—it was chaos, but the good kind. The kind you miss when things are too quiet.

“Uy, dito tayo sa may Isawan,” Lea said, tugging Janine’s sleeve.

“Lea, hindi pa ba enough ‘yung kumain tayo ng dalawang cup noodles kanina?” Janine teased, nudging me with her elbow.

“Guys, justification lang—nasa Thailand tayo. Kailangan natin i-experience ‘to... every night kung pwede,” I replied dramatically, already eyeing the tray of crispy spring rolls.

Mark followed behind us, balancing a plastic cup of Thai milk tea in one hand and a bag of fried quail eggs in the other. “Sabi ko sa sarili ko diet. Pero ang sarap ng kasalanan dito.”

After a solid thirty minutes of bargaining, taste-testing, and spontaneous group food reviews, we were loaded with grilled pork skewers, pad kra pao in banana leaf containers, sticky rice, and fruit shakes.

As we crossed the small street back toward the dormitory, Janine suddenly halted. “Uy. Wait. Wala tayong tissue.”

“And ice,” Lea added, cringing. “Yung shake ko parang tubig ng ilog ngayon.”

“7-Eleven tayo,” I said. “Last stop. Promise.”

The chime of the 7-Eleven door jingled gently as we stepped in. The air-conditioning hit my skin like a prayer. The bright, familiar layout greeted us—the shelves, the freezer buzz, the soft pop Thai song playing in the background.

Then, there he was.

Behind the counter. Bent over a cardboard box of new stock.

Him.

Brown tan skin glowing under the fluorescent lights, glasses slightly sliding down the bridge of his cute, sharp nose. Hair still messy but charming in its own wild, windswept way.

He was sorting canned coffee and instant noodles into neat rows on the display.

Janine whispered, not-so-quietly, “Oh my God. Di ba siya ‘yun?”

I didn’t answer. My legs had suddenly forgotten how to walk naturally. Like I needed to Google: how to appear nonchalant while internally combusting.

Lea bumped me lightly. “Ay, parang biglang nawala ‘yung uhaw mo, ha.”

Mark snorted, “Ang lakas ng presence, grabe. Parang may slow-mo effect siya sa’yo.”

“Guys,” I said firmly, trying to hide the tremble in my voice. “Behave. Nandito lang tayo para sa tissue at yelo.”

“‘Yelo’ daw,” Janine muttered. “Pero yung puso mo, parang natutunaw na.”

I grabbed a pack of tissue like it owed me money and walked—casually but precisely—toward the freezer section. From the corner of my eye, I saw him straighten, dusting off his hands. Then, he noticed me.

His eyes widened, then softened in recognition.

“Oh… hello again,” he said. His voice—gentle and masculine, still with that soft lilt that made everything sound a little kinder.

I smiled, heart a literal riot. “Hi…”

He hesitated for a moment, then gestured slightly to the stocked shelf. “Ahh… helping… today. Stock. Uhm…You? From… last time?”

Oh no. He remembers?!

I blinked. “Oh! Yes!”

Behind me, I could hear Janine fake coughing.

“Kilig,” someone hissed.

He glanced at the others, a little flustered. “Ahh… your friends?”

“Yes po” I answered quickly, then bit my lip.

He nodded slowly, then smiled. “You… nice smile.”

I froze. “Ah?”

“You smile. It’s nice.”

I’m done. I’m done. I’m melted jelly in human form.

From behind, Mark was whispering in Tagalog again, “Pak! Grabe. You smile, it’s nice? Lagot ka na.”

I turned quickly, cheeks burning. “Tissue. Ice. Let’s go.”

“Wait, wait,” Janine whispered, “Di ba may kulang pa tayo? ‘Yung reason mo to come here in the first place?”

“I—” I looked at my half-empty basket. “I don’t know anymore, okay?”

As we walked out of the store, I glanced one last time.

He looked up from the counter, our eyes met, and he gave a small wave.

I waved back. Just a tiny flick of fingers.

And the whole walk back to the dormitory, my friends teased me relentlessly.

But even above the noise, I could only hear one thing repeating in my head:

"You smile. It’s nice.”

The night air had cooled a little, brushing softly against our skin as we made our way back to the dormitory. The glow of streetlamps lit our path, casting long shadows of the four of us walking side by side—bags of night market dinner swinging from our arms, plastic clinking with drinks, tissue, and way too many unnecessary snacks.

I was still trying to calm the thunder in my chest.

“Okay,” I finally asked, pretending to casually fix my hair, “but…seriously. How did you all know?”

Janine looked at me with wide, exaggerated eyes. “Girl, are you seriously asking that?”

Lea jumped in, voice full of amusement. “'Cause we’re not blind? Or deaf? Or both?” she snorted.

Mark chuckled, hoisting his bag higher. “Aba, akala mo siguro ang galing mong magtago. Newsflash, ‘di mo natatago kahit isa.”

I blinked. “What do you mean?! I was literally so lowkey!”

Janine burst out laughing. “Lowkey? Lowkey saan? Remember nung unang delivery, ‘yung sinabihan ka niya ng ‘hello’? You turned into a puddle of goo in front of us.”

“Huy! Hindi naman—”

“‘Hi…’” Janine mimicked me in a breathy voice, clutching her chest dramatically. “‘Hi…’ tapos sabay ngiti, tapos biglang spin and walk away like you were in a commercial!”

Lea laughed so hard she had to stop walking. “Tapos ‘yung mga biglaang delivery orders mo? Akala mo ‘di namin napapansin. You ordered yakisoba, three kinds of cup noodles, dalawang mineral water, choco milk, isang canned coffee—sunod-sunod!”

Mark chimed in, “Every other day may delivery. Sa dinami-dami ng kailangan bilhin sa 7-Eleven, ba’t laging ikaw ang willing mag-order?”

I pouted, failing miserably to hide my flustered grin. “Eh, coincidence lang naman…”

“Coincidence na lagi mong sinasabayan ‘yung delivery schedule?” Janine teased. “Na tuwing day off mo o after shift, may pa-order ka?”

“Coincidence na lagi kang nag-aayos ng buhok bago mo siya harapin?” Lea said, poking me in the ribs.

Mark added with a laugh, “Tsaka ‘yung kilig face mo after. You literally float for hours, as in literal! Parang may slow-mo effect ka every time.”

I groaned, burying my face into the bag of rice crackers I was carrying. “Stopppp…”

Janine grinned. “You thought you were being slick, huh?”

Lea leaned in. “Sorry, besh. You’re about as slick as a spilled Thai iced tea.”

We all burst into laughter right then, our voices echoing through the quiet street, filled with nothing but the buzz of crickets, the rustle of the wind, and the feeling of warm friendship holding us all together.

“Fine,” I said, trying to compose myself, “okay. Maybe I do find him kinda… a bit… you know…”

“Cute? Adorable? Pantasya?” Mark teased, doing a mock wink.

I smacked his arm with the tissue pack. “Stop!”

Lea laughed, “Aba, admit it na. We’re here to support you. With receipts. Literal at figurative.”

Janine added, “Just say the word, and we’ll start the fans club. ‘For The Love of Kuya Delivery’ ang name.”

I couldn't help but laugh too—cheeks burning, heart buzzing.

Maybe I wasn’t as subtle as I thought.

But maybe that was okay.

Because in the middle of this new life, filled with work, chaos, and strange beauty—this silly little crush was mine. Unexpected, fluttering, and very real.

And apparently, not-so-secret anymore.