Bola-Bola

Chapter One-2

“Summer, if Tita—”

“Thea, relax! You’re so on edge. Everything’s going to be fine. Mom says she’ll meet us at the food court later at six. It’s four o’clock. She’s with Tita Annie and her kids. We. Have. Time. Right, Dani?” she says in one breath, annoyed, her b***h face fixed.

Dani bobs her head, her hair bouncing along with her.

“What’s wrong? Are you worried about the CETs? Is that it? Why are you so worked up?” Summer asks.

“Well, of course I’m worried about the CETs, but that’s not the reason I’m so worked up.” In a harsh whisper I say, “I feel like we just lied to your mom.” Really, I don’t know what I would do if Kuya gets wind of things. Kuya wants me to focus on my studies. Books before boys. No diploma, no dating. Period. End of discussion. No questions. As Kuya would usually say at the end of his monologue.

Summer stares at me dumbly. Dani shakes her head with a frown. Before any of the two could reply, the boys walk up to us with cotton candy. Dani grabs one from John and thrusts it in my face.

“T, have some cotton candy. You need it,” says Dani. I try to refuse, but she’s not having any of it. “You’re all grumpy. Food always makes you feel better.”

“Okay.” And I feel just a little bit fatter. But a bribe’s a bribe, even if it’s all air and sugar.

For an hour or so, before we meet up with Tita, we sit around a small table. Sitting between Summer and Dani, like the “filling” that I am in this couple sandwich, I observe, in equal amounts of horror and fascination, my best friends flirt with their almost-boyfriends. It’s like watching Animal Planet, only the subjects are less furry and are wearing pastels and floral prints. They’re touching the boys’ arms, giggling at their lame-ass jokes, feeding their egos, saying they’re so smart and cool, when really, they’re as interesting as pieces of cardboard.

Gio stretches his arm as if he’s yawning, and carefully drapes it around Summer’s shoulder. Dani and John share a milk shake as they talk about basketball. Dani doesn’t even like basketball. They’re my friends, but they’re like different people when there are boys around. I wish Issa were here with me. If she were, we would probably be talking about something else other than pop songs and future dates and dogs that could possibly bark “I love you.” I should’ve brought a book. Finding nothing else to do, I leave the table to buy myself some peanuts. I cringe at the way my friends are acting. If Sister Agnes were here, they would be in so much trouble. They would be sent to the discipline coordinator’s office by second period.

I make a beeline for the peanut stand. As I wait in line, I watch all the people around me in this theme park, walking around, lining up for the rides, laughing and eating away. I scan some of the happy faces among the throng of people and frown. I can’t believe I feel so alone when I’m surrounded by hundreds. Like that one unwanted peanut in a bowl of boiled peanuts, the one that’s misshapen and ugly, the one no one would even try to crack open just to see if it’s any good. I’m the only one who isn’t with anyone. What’s wrong with me?

I’m with my friends, but I feel like they’re not really here with me at all, and to think a few months from now we’re all going to college. I don’t even know which type of peanut I want to order. How am I supposed to figure this all out? Where do we go from here? If they can easily ignore me when we’re literally in each other’s company, what more when we’re in different universities? It’s so easy to blame the boys as a distraction, but when the time comes and we don’t get to see each other every day, what if they just start forgetting me completely?

From the peanut stand, I watch the double date unfold like I’m watching a movie. It feels like one, too, since I’m the outsider in this current scenario.

Summer places her elbows on the table and leans forward, drawing attention to her cleavage. And Gio, on cue, sneaks a glance. She has Gio eating out of the palm of her hand. She always gets the athletes: basketball players, football players, even Frisbee players. They’re all the same. Summer’s pretty and all, but ever since she started wearing padded bras, the guys just kept on coming. I’m “shapely,” if circles count. I’m all curves, but they’re mostly fats. Life’s unfair, I get it, and we’re growing up. All of us, even Dani. John reaches for Dani’s hand, and they both smile simultaneously. They look so cute and in sync, it’s as if the whole thing were choreographed.

They’re my friends. Good ones too, even Summer when she’s in a good mood. They’re just boy-crazy! And it’s driving me crazy. They’re dating, and they’re leaving me behind. I just feel so left out. It’s not like I’m built like a plant, with no feelings whatsoever. I have had my crushes. Like any other girl, I want to know what love is or what love’s like, at least before I die.

Summer’s always in love, Dani, too, while I don’t even know what it is. Even Issa fell in love once; the others don’t know about it, but I do.

“Miss.”

I sigh. I want to fall in love, too. Be held, be kissed, be loved. In my group of friends, I’m the only one left who hasn’t had her first kiss. Always the last one to have anything. The last one to get her period and maybe the last one to get married, if I even do.

“Miss.”

Still waiting in line, I see Summer stiffen in her seat. She’s glaring at Gio, and he doesn’t even notice. He said something that set her off, and he doesn’t even know it. Uh-oh.

Somebody taps me on the shoulder and I quickly turn around and find that the vendor’s waving at me to order. There are different types of roasted peanuts. Some with the skin still on, others, skinless. Some are spicy, and the others just salted. I shake my head; I’m just too out of it.

Salted peanuts, I guess.

“Salty. I mean salted,” I say, wincing belatedly.

As I walk towards my friends with a bag of peanuts, I notice our little group stand up. They’re awkwardly hugging each other. Summer’s pointing at her wristwatch, with a pout. “My mom will be here.”

The boys wave goodbye. Sitting between Summer and Dani, I plop the small paper bag on the table, its bottom already absorbing the oiliness of the peanuts.

“He’s not the one,” Summer opens up as she reaches for a handful of peanuts.

“What?” I ask, chewing.

“She said, Gio’s not the one,” says Dani.

“I’ve been gone for like twenty minutes.”

“He hates Draco. He’s a Gryffindor. I’m a Slytherin. We’re too different.”

Ah! Harry Potter, our common ground. Before I knew it, I’m grinning.

“Ultimate deal breaker.”

Summer nods.

“We’re both Hufflepuffs!” Dani chimes in.

“I can see that,” I say. Looking at Summer, I ask, “Does this mean you won’t date him anymore?”

“Just because he’s not the one doesn’t mean I should stop going out with him. He’s a Gryffindor, not hideous,” Summer says, making me snort.

“But it would have to be a group date. If we go on a solo date, he might think I’m way into him or I’m easy.”

“Well, aren’t you?” Dani peeps in as she pops peanuts in her mouth. We both stare at our doll-like friend.

Did she just say Summer’s easy? In her face? I grab a handful of peanuts and start popping them in my mouth.

“What?” asks Dani, still chewing.

I bite my lip, attempting but failing to suppress my laughter, while Summer is dumbfounded. Dani stares at Summer then at me, when realization hits her and her eyes widen like saucers, growing bigger by the second, like a dead fish before someone guts it.

“Oh. Ohhhh. I didn’t mean you’re easy, ‘cause you’re not. I mean, you do date a lot, but that doesn’t mean that you’re a slut . . .” Summer’s eyes are widening at each word coming out of Dani’s lips, making Dani squeak. She’s openly gawking at Dani by now.

Dani’s biting her lower lip. “What I meant was you’re into him, right?” Dani glances at me imploringly, panicking.

I stare at Summer, and she’s a sniff away from breaking into laughter.

“Thank your lucky stars I actually like you,” Summer says, cracking up. I laugh along with her. Dani awkwardly chuckles until it’s a full-blown cackle.

Summer takes a peanut and throws it in Dani’s direction.

“Hey, stop wasting food,” I say.

“Yes, Mom,” Summer sniggers.

Like I said, they are my best friends in the whole world. We laugh like it’s just us, no boys, no strangers, just us girls. Twenty minutes later, Summer’s mom and aunt find us in the food court, red-faced from all the laughing. They take us out to dinner, ask us how our day was, then they take Dani and me home.

It takes two hours for Tita Lily to drive us back to Quezon City. Halfway through her ABBA playlist, I fall asleep with my best friends at the back seat. Summer wakes me up as soon as we enter our village.

From the outside, our two-story home looks like any other house in the subdivision, quiet and unassuming. Plain. It’s the cream house with the brown gate, a row of green bushes, all neatly trimmed, and a huge mango tree. If one comes closer and rings the bell, one would notice a modest engraving of the letter B next to the number of our house.

After saying thanks to Summer and Tita Lily for taking me home, I get out of the car, and ring the doorbell once. They wait outside in their SUV until Manang Celing opens the gate for me.

Stepping in, I ask Manang about Mama and Kuya. Manang tells me that Mama’s still out, probably with her kumares, while Kuya’s in the kitchen heating leftover pizza. Manang could always whip something up, but Kuya, ever frugal, would rather ransack the fridge for any leftovers. Manang bids me good night and retires to her room, while I tiptoe to mine, trying not to make a sound. I just need to cross the living room to get to the staircase and steer clear of the toy poodles. Easy enough.

Out of nowhere, Sushi, the black poodle charges at me, yapping and licking excitedly.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Kuya asks as he takes a big bite of his pizza.

At the sound of Kuya’s deep, hoarse voice, I stop dead in my tracks in the middle of the living room. I can hear him chew his food loudly. Gross. I turn around and meet his gaze.

Even in his basketball shorts and sando, Kuya Anton looks incredibly imposing. It’s the height and the beard, which he’s currently growing out. When Kuya’s sporting a full beard, he can easily pass as someone who’s in his early thirties, even when in reality, he’s only twenty-two. It’s not that I’m scared of him, but he does have the power to ground me, so I can’t just sass my way out of my conversations with Kuya. And besides, he’s like the de facto adult in this household since Mama’s always out with her kumares. But if I’m going to be honest, I might as well admit that a lot of people are scared of my brother, and that includes Dani, but then she’s a scaredy-cat so she hardly counts. According to Dani, Kuya has this look that screams “don’t mess with me.” But as his sister, I know better. Kuya may look harsh and rough on the outside like a coconut husk, but on the inside, he’s all milk and soft meat. And sometimes, and I mean sometimes, he’s even sweet.

“Bedroom,” I say, testing the waters.

I pet Sushi twice on the head to shush her.

Kuya fixes his eyes on the wall clock then on me, with one eyebrow raised and lips pursed. My mind works on overdrive, jumping on what his brain’s cooking up.

“It’s 10:45,” I say right away, pointing at the clock. Kuya just takes another bite of his pizza. “My curfew’s at 11. It’s not even a school night. We came from Laguna!”

Kuya knits his eyebrows together and with a voice laced with mock seriousness asks, “Did you have fun?”

And I know that he’s just playing around, and I’m not in trouble at all.

“Yes, I did,” I say with a smile. Kuya drops the act and smiles too, as he takes another bite of his pizza.

“So, what did you do?” And the interrogation begins.

Before I know it, I’m listing the food we ate and the rides we went on, blabbering as long as I can, hoping that Kuya wouldn’t smell the lie on me. There were boys. Kuya made me promise that there wouldn’t be boys. He’s overprotective of me. That’s for sure.

Three years ago, he picked me up from Issa’s house. It was her birthday party. On my way out, Kuya saw me waving at Julian, Issa’s cousin. Kuya Anton didn’t say a word the whole car ride on the way home and I knew something was up. Kuya’s eyebrows were knitted together, and it looked like there were wrinkles permanently engraved on his forehead. As soon as we stepped inside the house, he went berserk. His mouth was like a freaking armalite, ratatatatat ratatatatat.

“Thea, who was that boy? When I said no dating, I meant it. NO DATING UNTIL YOU GRADUATE. Better yet, until you have a doctorate. Ha! How about that? You’ll be in your thirties then,” he jeered. “Waving at him like that.” He even reenacted the wave, flicking his wrist, even shaking his butt, and it all looked so stupid that I was laughing by the end of his rant.

“What’s so funny? Ma. Theresa Santiago Balderama, you have a lot of explaining to do!”

“Kuya, he’s Issa’s cousin.”

“So?”

“He’s gay. He actually likes you.”

Kuya gaped at me for a good five seconds before he said, “Still. No boys, understand? Studies first.”

“Yes, Kuya.”

There’s the usual interrogation before I leave the house and as soon as I get home, and the silly thing is he does it with Mama as well. If it weren’t for the fact that Kuya’s dead serious about it, it would have been funny.

Kuya’s cell rings, and he bids me good night with a quick wave of his hand. On the way up the stairs, I hear Kuya’s booming voice.

“Lucas, man, yeah I read your message . . .” Kuya answers, his voice fading as he moves back into the kitchen with his half-eaten pizza.

Lucas? Did Kuya just say Lucas? It couldn’t possibly be the same Lucas I know, could it? The one with the infuriating smirk and the most beautiful— No, no. I would have known if he were here. God, Thea, there are a lot of boys named Lucas. Shaking my head, I climb the rest of the stairs and go straight to my room.