Prologue
863 Words
When Penelope dela Rosa visits the town’s creepy matchmaker, she didn’t get a match. Or at least that’s what the orbuculum meant.
~
Valentine’s day is a difficult time to be alive.
It’s an overrated celebration of love, where everyone feels the need to shove their puppy romance for the World Wide Web to care. Your phone just buzzes randomly over a friend’s i********: update, only to be welcomed with Godivas, Ferrero Rochers, and a long cheesy outline.
I don’t get the logic, really. And especially on a weather like Sacramento, who wants to cuddle up with a date, all sweaty with an oil slicked face?
“What’s with the scowl, Pen?” Calvin from the other cubicle stretches his legs up. “You had that since eight today.”
“I was greeted with red balloons taped all around the elevator this morning,” I say, not all too enthusiastic.
”And where does your issue lie on that context?”
“This is an office, Cal. Not a children’s birthday party.”
”Penny, you make me laugh from time to time,” he laughs a little. “What do you expect on a Valentine’s day?”
”A 91 degree temperature, I guess? Cal, it’s too hot to celebrate right now,” raising one eyebrow, I close my computer window and straighten my spine.
”You don’t cancel Valentine’s because of a heat wave, Penny,” Cal casually combs his hair with his fingers. “Or is it because you’re single, again?”
Calvin has his fair share of ‘single’ jokes since we started in the company. We are a lot closer than the rest of the employees, often getting mistaken by Mr. Bones as each other’s casual fling. But that isn’t going to happen.
Calvin’s gay and I’m questionably asexual. It just won’t work that way.
”Cal, you say that like you’re not single yourself,” I playfully roll my eyes at him.
”Unfortunately for you, I have a date tonight,” he crosses his arms and plays a smirk.
”In which alternate universe are you dating?”
“I went to the matchmaker. She’s back in town,” he grins as he now picks up the things on his desk and into his sling bag.
”The matchmaker?” I don’t exactly remember a matchmaker in town.
“Yeah, the one in the fair? The one in a tent with the cool crystal ball and voodoo dolls?” He wiggles his fingers.
”And how exactly did that work?”
”She took my hand, said some random words in Latin and magically, a face appeared in the crystal ball,” he paints a face of wonder. “Well, it’s way cooler than how I described it. You need to try for yourself, at least for the experience.”
”And who exactly appeared?”
”Keith.” He says with a victorious sigh. “God, I’m so lucky.”
”Keith, from the fourth floor?”
”No, Keith from the seventh floor. That one’s straight.” He scrunches his nose as he slowly zips his bag close.
”Okay,” I say, slowly internalizing this.
”I had the matchmaking on Monday. I pitched the date on Wednesday. Who knew he was easy to get?.”
”Wow, Cal. You’re finally not celibate anymore,” I commended with a teasing clap.
It is quite nice to hear him finally dating again, especially since we’re both poor in that department. Unlike me, though, he is always vocal on his multiple failed attempts.
I remember Henry Dy the most from Calvin’s long list of ex-lovers. He had been the shortest he was with but the most meaningful, to say the least.
Henry was diagnosed with stage 3 lymph cancer on their third month of dating. It started off with some fever and headaches, and it had actually gotten worse. Calvin did not take it well when Henry died merely two months after the biopsy. It has been over two years and it’s nice to see Cal getting serious on dating again.
And not just settle over one night stands.
“Penelope, why don’t you give the matchmaker a try. She’s a nice lady despite the scary aesthetic,” he chuckles.
”I’m not desperate like you, Cal,” I say as I shoot a crumpled A4 into a bin a meter from me. I don’t lie, though. It isn’t as if dying a virgin is against law.
Calvin simply shakes his head and smiles.
”Just try it out. It’s Valentine’s day and you might be surprised, you’re not the Virgin Mary you think you’ll be.”
- Writer
