Chapter 5
1660 Words
Yara's POV
The cafeteria was louder than usual—but somehow I still felt alone.
Jana was across campus with her groupmates, they have group activity to their minor subject, and Dia too. Curse our alphabetical last names for separating us like this.
So here I am, poking at my food, pretending I enjoy solitude when in reality I’m just avoiding one person.
Maxwell.
I told myself it was for my own good. He’s like caffeine... good at first, comforting even, but too much and suddenly your heart doesn’t know how to behave. Or maybe he’s a song stuck in my head. Annoying. Persistent. Unfairly catchy.
I need to stop this.
We’re just friends.
Right?
Right???
“There’s no way.” I muttered under my breath, dramatically lowering my forehead onto the table and clutching the back of my head like I just failed an exam.
“There’s no way what?”
I nearly jumped out of my skin.
“What the heck?!” I shot up so fast I almost knocked over my drink.
And there he was.
Maxwell.
Standing there with that stupidly effortless grin, like he didn’t just shave five years off my lifespan.
“What?” he asked, laughing. Actually laughing.
“I’ve been here for a few moments already. You looked so serious. Like you’re carrying the problems of the entire hospital on your shoulders.”
“I am not.” I said, rolling my eyes, trying to act annoyed while internally screaming.
He pulled out the chair in front of me without asking and sat down like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“You were talking to yourself,” he added, resting his chin on his hand. “Should I be concerned?”
“I was not talking to myself.”
“You literally said, ‘There’s no way,’ with feelings. That’s not normal cafeteria behavior.”
“It is if you’re stressed.”
He studied me for a second, his expression softening... but only in that friendly, older brother-coded way he has. The kind that makes you feel safe but also painfully aware that you’re probably the only one overthinking things.
“You overthink too much,” he said lightly. “Relax. It’s just nursing. We all suffer equally.”
I scoffed. “Wow. So comforting. Super life changing. My life changer after you said that.”
I said sarcastically.
“I tried.” And then he grinned again.
Why does he have to be like that?
He started telling me about a funny incident during his duty, exaggerating his hand movements, acting out the scene until I couldn’t help but laugh.
I tried not to. I really did. But he has this way of making everything feel lighter... like the world isn’t that heavy after all.
And that’s the problem.
Because for him, this is easy. Sitting here. Teasing me. Sharing stories. Being casually kind.
For me?
Every smile feels like a small betrayal to my own heart.
He nudged my tray. “You weren’t really alone, you know.”
“I was.”
“You weren’t,” he insisted. “I was already on my way here.”
I blinked. “Why?”
He shrugged. “I saw you from outside. You looked like you were about to fight the table.”
“I was not.”
“You were. It was intense.”
I rolled my eyes again, but I could feel my cheeks warming up. “You’re so annoying.”
“Yet here I am. Still sitting.”
That playful look. That easy confidence. No hidden meaning. No lingering tension. Just him being him.
Too friendly. Too comfortable. Too unaware.
And me?
Trying to ignore him like he’s a distraction—when in reality, he’s the only thing I notice in a crowded cafeteria.
We’re just friends.
I repeat it in my head like it’s a rule I’m not allowed to break.
And as he continues talking, laughing, completely at ease.
I realize the hardest part about ignoring someone...
Is when they sit right in front of you, smiling like you’re their favorite person to tease, and they have no idea they’re slowly becoming your favorite person to look at.
“Do you like someone?” I suddenly asked, changing the topic.
He choked on absolutely nothing and looked at me like I just asked him to donate a kidney.
“What?” he said, half-laughing.
“I said,” I repeated, leaning forward like an investigative journalist, “do. you. like. someone?”
He blinked. “We can’t even sleep eight hours straight. How am I supposed to like someone? I barely like myself during duty.”
“Nothing,” I said casually, waving my hand like I didn’t just risk my entire emotional stability.
“It’s just that a bunch of girls like you. And most of them are model like gorgeous. Like, shampoo commercial slow-mo hair flip gorgeous. I figured you at least like one of them.”
He giggled at that. Giggled. I almost fainted.
“I prefer to study rather than enter complicated feelings,” he said, sipping his drink like he just delivered the most mature line in history.
“Why?” I narrowed my eyes. “Are you gay?
He SPIT his drink.
Actually. Spit.
“What the heck?!” he shot back, wiping his mouth while I laughed like a villain.
“Hey, I have no problem with gay people,” I said, raising both hands defensively. “Love whoever you want. But you? Suspicious.”
He shook his head, still in shock. “I support gay people, but I’m not gay. Well there's this one girl I used to like, But I moved on. She’s waaayyy out of my league.”
Out. Of. His. League...??!!!
Sir. Have you ever looked at the mirror?
“I thought you had a girlfriend before?” I asked, pretending to be neutral while my heart was doing jumping jacks.
“No. Just rumors. She confessed, but I rejected her because I liked someone else.”
EXCUSE ME.
On the bright side: THE RUMORS ARE NOT TRUUUEEEE!!
On the bad side: He liked someone. Huhu.
On the brighter side: HE MOVED ON ALREADY. YEEHHEEYYY!!!
I did a tiny happy dance internally. Very tiny. Very dignified. Olympic-level subtle.
“What did you like about her?” I asked, trying to sound chill and not like I was collecting data for future wife qualifications.
He leaned back slightly, thinking.
“She was my neighbor before. I used to see her feed stray cats. Every day. No miss. Even if it was raining. Even during thunderstorms.”
Okay. That’s adorable. Continue.
“But one day it stopped. I found out she moved away. Then I saw her again years later. She wasn’t feeding the cats anymore.” He paused.
My heart: ???
“She was eating with beggars,” he continued softly. “Like there was no difference between them. No power. No money gap. Just... people eating together. That’s when I realized she was different. That’s why I try to do that too sometimes.”
And just like that, I understood everything.
Ahhh. No wonder he liked her.
Of course he’d fall for someone kind. Of course.
Meanwhile, me:
Feeds myself.
Laughs at inappropriate timing.
Accuses him of being gay for research purposes.
“So you liked her because she fed cats and ate with beggars?” I asked.
“uhmm... Yes."
I nodded seriously. “Okay. Noted.”
He squinted at me. “Noted for what?”
“For your fan girls,” I said quickly. “I'll sell this information so I can have a bunch of banana milk and Mars chocolate hihi" I said then giggled at him
He stared at me. Maybe wondering if I'm going crazy.
I just smiled sweetly
Inside my head:
Buy cat food. Befriend stray cats. Locate nearest carinderia. Practice looking humble but glowing. hihi
Why am I like this? Huhu
“But what happened between you and Rhea?” I asked, trying to sound casual even though my heart was pounding hard.
“I rejected her because I like someone else” he repeated, calm as ever.
“But there are rumors all over campus,” I pressed. “Why didn’t you at least clarify it?”
He leaned back on the bench, sighing softly not annoyed, just thoughtful.
“Rhea confessed to me,” he said gently.
“She gave me cookies, a love letter, even peonies. She put so much effort into it. She’s amazing. I really appreciated that.”
The way he said it wasn’t boastful. It wasn’t smug. It was sincere.
“And I think her friends assumed we became official because of that,” he continued.
“But I firmly rejected her. I told her I liked someone else. I didn’t want to give her false hope.” He paused, eyes soft.
“I didn’t clarify the rumors publicly because I already clarified my feelings to her. If I correct everyone out loud, it might embarrass her. Or worse, people might start teasing her, or bullying her. She doesn’t deserve that.”
Oh.
Oh.
FOREST ALERT! Walking. Breathing. In front of me.
“And besides,” he added with a small shrug,
“the girl I liked already went abroad. So there’s no point in stirring everything up.”
No bitterness. No ego. Just...maturity.
And suddenly I understood.
He didn’t need an audience to prove he did the right thing. He didn’t need to humiliate a girl just to protect his reputation.
He chose kindness when it was easier to choose pride.
Gosh, Maxwell.
How can someone be this considerate?
How can someone reject a girl and still protect her dignity? And more importantly.
How can I possibly unlike you now?
Because apparently, my heart has zero survival instincts.
RIP to my heart.
- Writer
