Chapter 14
1177 Words
Monday – 7:12 AM – Dorm Hallway
The echo of rushing footsteps, papers shuffling, and caffeine-fueled breathing filled the air.
Aira tightened her ponytail, lips pressed together as she reviewed bullet points on a wrinkled reviewer. Her heart beat with the kind of rhythm only academic stress could play.
Calix appeared beside her at the water dispenser, also holding a thick pile of notes, eyes sleepy but focused.
“English Lit muna, right?” he asked.
She nodded. “Then FilCrit. Then death.”
“Akala ko ‘yung exam na ‘yung killer,” he quipped.
She cracked a tired smile. “Pareho.”
8:01 AM – Classroom (Lit Exam)
The room was dead quiet—only pens scratching, backs shifting in hard chairs, and the occasional nervous throat clear.
Aira’s palms were slightly sweaty. She knew the answers, but her brain felt... foggy. Her fingers tightened on her pen as she wrote a barely coherent thesis statement on postmodern Filipino literature.
She glanced at Calix two seats ahead. His back was straight, hand moving fast. Focused.
> “You’ve got this,” she whispered in her head, both to him… and to herself.
11:48 AM – Cafeteria (Between Exams)
“Coffee?” Calix asked, sliding a cup in front of her.
She blinked. “You left the building for this?”
“Worth it. Alam kong pagod ka na.”
She nodded quietly, eyes heavy. “Thanks. This day feels like it’s never going to end.”
He gently tapped her knuckles. “Just get through one subject at a time.”
> And somehow, that helped.
1:00 PM – Filipino Criticism Exam
The test paper was thick, printed double-sided.
Aira read the first question, her stomach twisting. It was an essay item—not what she reviewed.
Her hands shook for a second.
Panic.
The room blurred slightly.
Then a voice from earlier echoed in her head.
“Just one subject at a time.”
She took a breath. Answered. One sentence at a time.
5:39 PM – Dorm Balcony (Post-Exam Silence)
Aira sat with a cold towel around her neck, eyes half-open.
Mira joined her, both of them not speaking at first.
“Alam mo, mas grabe ‘yung pagod ko sa mental breakdown,” Mira said eventually.
Aira chuckled weakly. “Same. Para tayong binugbog ng syllabus.”
They both stared at the sky, grateful just to be breathing again.
9:00 PM – Aira’s Room (Messages)
AIRA:
> Survived Day 1 Barely
CALIX:
> That’s still survival. Small wins.
Sleep ka na. You earned it.
AIRA:
> You too. Thanks for earlier. Coffee saves lives.
CALIX:
> So do small pep talks.
AIRA:
> Guess we’re even.
Midnight – Aira’s Journal Entry
> “Today felt like war.
And still, in the middle of it all—
he remembered me.
With coffee. With calm.
Not loud, but steady.
And maybe love doesn’t show up with grand gestures.
Maybe it looks like showing up…
even when the world expects you to focus on yourself.”
Tuesday – 9:37 AM – Library, Back Table
Calix stared at his reviewer like it personally betrayed him.
Stats. Graphs. Formula sheets. Foreign language, basically.
Aira arrived with two packs of crackers and sat beside him without a word. She noticed how he barely glanced at her.
“Are you okay?” she asked gently.
He exhaled, head dropping into his hands. “This is the one. My brain gave up.”
Aira slid one of the crackers over. “Energy first. Breakdown later.”
He glanced at her, the corner of his mouth twitching. “You always this bossy under stress?”
“Only when it’s someone I care about.”
Silence.
Then a soft: “Good to know.”
11:48 AM – Calix’s Exam (His POV)
Time ticked faster than usual.
He hated numbers. They didn’t feel like stories. They didn’t feel human.
But he remembered something: Aira’s quiet nod earlier, her hand brushing his, the calm in her voice.
So he focused. One formula at a time.
> “Not for the grade,” he thought.
“For the version of me she believes in.”
1:15 PM – Study Room (Group Cramming)
Mira, Nhene, and two others were gathered around Aira and Calix, everyone surrounded by open laptops and half-eaten snacks.
“Why is this PowerPoint 56 slides?” Mira groaned, face-down on the table.
“Because midterms are sadistic,” Aira answered.
Everyone groaned in agreement.
Even in chaos, Calix noticed Aira’s quiet determination. She was tired, pale, barely blinking—but still explaining slides to the group.
And he couldn’t help but admire her.
4:28 PM – Outside the Auditorium
Their next exam was Oral Comm & Presentation.
Aira sat on the steps, heels off, eyes closed.
Calix sat beside her. “You okay?”
She didn’t open her eyes. “I’m tired, Calix. Not just today-tired. Like… life-tired.”
That quiet broke something in him.
He leaned slightly, their shoulders brushing. “You don’t need to prove anything today. Just stand up. Speak. I’ll be here.”
Aira opened her eyes slowly. “Promise?”
He met her gaze. “Always.”
5:17 PM – Aira’s Presentation
She stood before the class, fingers trembling slightly around the clicker.
Then her eyes flicked to the back of the room—Calix, sitting straight, watching only her.
And she breathed.
> “You’ve done harder things than this,” she reminded herself.
“And you did them alone.”
“This time, you’re not alone.”
She spoke clearly. Firmly. And when she finished, even the professor looked briefly impressed.
7:41 PM – Post-Presentation Walk (Campus Quad)
They walked side by side again, quietly sipping bottled iced tea.
“I didn’t think I’d pull that off,” she admitted.
“I did.”
“You always believe in me,” she whispered, almost like it scared her.
Calix looked at her. “Because you always fight, Aira. Even when you’re tired. Especially then.”
A pause.
“I just want to be someone who sees that.”
Aira looked away—then back.
> “You already are.”
9:58 PM – Dorm Hallway (Farewell for the Night)
They stopped outside her door, shoulders touching again.
“I know we’re both swamped,” Calix said. “But thanks for showing up for me too.”
“You make it easy,” she replied honestly.
“No I don’t,” he chuckled. “But I’m trying.”
“Me too.”
For a second, neither moved.
Then Aira reached out—just for a moment—and held his hand.
Not tight. Not long.
But sure.
And that was enough for now.
Midnight – Aira’s Journal Entry
> “Love, it turns out, doesn’t wait for perfect timing.
It just… shows up.
Even during midterms.
Even during mental crashes.
Even when you’re at your most tired.
And maybe that’s how you know it’s real—
when someone sees you unraveling
and doesn’t flinch.”
- Writer
