CHAPTER 9
1072 Words
(Lexie Monteverdi’s POV)
Halfway na kami sa project, pero parang ako lang ata ‘yung hindi pa nakapagsimula sa project. Wala Kasi akong maisip isulat para sa reflection ko.
Aira and Zyra? Productive. Ako? Busy iwasan ang isang lalaking hindi ko naman inaamin na gusto kong makita.
And I swear, this place has turned into the weirdest version of summer school — only with more mud, more mosquitoes, and one infuriatingly handsome guy named Elian Cruz.
“Lex, are you even listening?” sigaw ni Aira habang inaayos ‘yung mga sample sa mesa.
“Of course,” sagot ko kahit wala akong idea kung ano pinag-uusapan nila.
“Ang sabi ko,” sabat ni Zyra, “gabi daw may event sa bayan. Gusto mo bang sumama?”
I froze. Kasi kung may event sa bayan, ibig sabihin pupunta rin si Elian.
At kung pupunta siya... well, disaster waiting to happen.
“I’ll pass,” sabi ko agad.
“Wow,” Aira smirked. “Alexis-s***h-Lexie Monteverdi turning down a fiesta? Must be serious.”
Hindi ko alam kung fiesta nga ba ang tinatanggihan ko o ‘yung ideya na makasama siya sa gabi.
---
Late afternoon.
Habang nag-aayos ako ng mga papeles sa veranda, narinig ko siyang dumaan — tahimik, may hawak na mga kahon.
“Need help?” tanong ko kahit ayaw ko dapat magsalita. Pasmado ata bunganga ko.
Hindi siya tumingin. “Kaya ko.”
Classic Elian. Short answers, deep stare, walk away.
Pero maya-maya, bumalik siya.
“Yung table sa labas, pwede bang gamitin for the tools?”
“Sure. Pero wag mo akong sisihin pag nagkapasa ‘yung kahoy.”
“Hindi kahoy ang may pasa dito,” sagot niya, sabay tingin sa braso ko.
Napatingin ako — may maliit nga akong sugat.
“Bakit mo napansin?”
“Because you don’t.”
And just like that, tahimik na naman kami. Pero iba na ‘yung silence. Hindi na awkward — comfortable but terrifyingly close.
He worked quietly beside me, sleeves rolled up, veins visible under the fading light. The air smelled like sun and wood and faint cologne. Nakakainis. Bakit kahit pawis siya, may ganun pa rin siyang effect?
Minsan napapatingin ako nang matagal. Then he’d catch me — at mag-aalis agad ako ng tingin na parang guilty teenager.
“Careful,” sabi niya nang muntik ko nang matapon ‘yung sample bottle.
“Hindi ako clumsy,” depensa ko.
He smiled, that rare half-smile that made my heart skip. “Sure ka?”
Ang hirap magpanggap na wala lang kapag simpleng tanong niya parang sinisilip na ‘yung totoo mong nararamdaman.
---
Kinagabihan, hindi ako mapakali.
Si Aira at Zyra tulog na, pero ako, gising pa rin. Lumabas ako ng balcony, dala ‘yung mug ng gatas (yes, gatas — kasi ayokong tumanda agad sa stress).
Bumuhos ang ulan.
“Of course,” bulong ko. “Dramatic weather alert.”
Lightning flashed across the fields, lighting up the wide expanse of wet grass. The sound of rain against the roof was almost comforting — almost.
At parang sinadya ng universe — nakita ko siyang lumabas din mula sa kabilang side ng hacienda, bitbit ‘yung jacket niya.
“Akala ko tulog ka na,” sabi ko.
“Hindi makatulog,” sagot niya. “Ang ingay ng ulan.”
“Same.”
Tumabi siya sa akin. Hindi kami nag-usap for a while. The rain filled the silence for us — steady, rhythmic, like the world breathing slow.
Then he said, “You’re quieter lately.”
“Maybe I’m tired of talking to someone who only listens when he wants to.”
Tinignan niya ako — diretso, seryoso. “I always listen.”
At doon ako natigilan. Kasi baka nga totoo.
---
Thunder cracked, sharp and sudden. Napasigaw ako, sabay hawak sa braso niya.
“Relax,” sabi niya. “Safe ka dito.”
Safe daw. Pero bakit parang hindi safe ‘yung puso ko?
I let go, pero siya hindi agad binitawan ang kamay ko.
“Sorry,” bulong niya, halos di ko na marinig sa lakas ng ulan.
“No need,” sagot ko, pero alam kong hindi ko rin gustong bitiwan.
He looked at our joined hands, then at me. “You always pretend you don’t care.”
“Maybe because I shouldn’t.”
“Maybe because you already do,” he said quietly.
At dun ako napalunok. Kasi minsan, kahit hindi mo sabihin, naririnig pa rin ng mundo ‘yung totoo.
A few seconds later, he chuckled softly. “You’re different, Monteverdi.”
“How so?”
“You talk too much, complain too much... but you care too much, too.”
“Don’t read me like that,” sabi ko agad.
“Too late.”
Lightning lit up his face — sharp jaw, soft eyes. For a second, he looked at me like he was memorizing something he shouldn’t.
I looked away, heart pounding. “You should go in. You’ll get sick.”
“Then stay,” he said simply. “So it’s fair.”
And just like that — when hearts misfire.
Kasi minsan, hindi kailangan ng confession para malaman mong may nasunog na fuse somewhere in between silence and storm.
---
Pagpasok ko sa kwarto, humiga ako pero hindi ako mapakali. The rain still drummed on the roof, steady as a heartbeat.
I opened my journal and wrote:
> “If I can hear his voice over the rain, maybe that’s a sign I’m listening too closely.”
Pero hindi pa rin ako mapakali. Tumayo ulit ako, bumalik sa bintana.
Sa labas, si Elian nakatayo pa rin sa veranda — basang-basa, nakatingin sa langit.
He didn’t see me, pero nakita ko ‘yung maliit na ngiti niya habang tumingin sa ulan.
Tulad ng laging ngiti niya — bihira, pero kapag lumabas, may dahilan.
And I realized something I didn’t want to admit:
Maybe storms weren’t meant to scare us. Maybe they were meant to make us feel something we keep avoiding.
That night, I wrote again:
> “Maybe some people are like rain — you don’t wait for them to pass. You stand there and let yourself get drenched.”
I closed my journal, heart heavy but full. Kasi kahit hindi ko aminin, alam kong nagsisimula nang umulan sa loob ko.
At ayun, natapos ang gabi na may kabog na hindi ko alam kung galing sa puso o sa kidlat.
- Writer
