by Frejas,Tara
I wasn’t sure where he was going with this analogy, but I enjoyed my kebab and let him talk.
“But then another kid comes along and they let you have a taste of their ice cream, and it’s just... magical and right and everything you’ve wanted your ice cream to taste like. But because you can’t swap your ice cream anymore, you get mad at the other kid for giving you a taste of something you can’t have. When really all you want is for them to share their ice cream with you.”
“So… you got mad at me because you really liked that kiss but didn’t want to admit it.”
He looked at me with puppy eyes and mumbled a “Yes.” I wanted to slap him.
“Do you know how much I agonized over that? My mind was all over the place—I cost the team two games! Two. Games.”
“I was a mess too, Garns. I didn’t know what to make of it. Did you kiss me because you only wanted Nica to break up with me, or because you liked me too? Because I’ve always really liked you, and I wasn’t sure if it was a sign...”
He’s always liked me? Well, this is brand-new information!
I pointed my kebab stick to his face. He held his hands up. “You,” I said. “You never told me anything.”
“How could I, when you’ve been swooning over Chris Barcelo since freshman year?” he asked. “Remember—even when he played against us, you’d still silently cheer for him every time he made a basket. You even have a photo of him in your planner.”
He wasn’t entirely wrong. I did have a huge crush on Chris, but I never thought Charles saw him as a rival.
“But Charlie, Chris is like... college royalty! Did you really think he would give me the time of day? Did you really think he was competition?”
“You have understand the male ego, Garns. We might look like we’ve got our shit together, but really… we’re insecure as fuck. Who the hell would have the courage to ask a girl out if their standards were that high?”
“You’re an idiot.”
He nodded. “That I am.”
“Nica thinks I stole you away from her, though,” I said, grudgingly biting into my kebab.
“She said that?”
I only nodded. Maybe that was something I should’ve kept to myself, but we were apparently doing honesty hour, so I figured I might as well say it.
“That’s ridiculous. You didn’t steal me. She let me go.”
SIX
An Assist and a Fumble
The next several weeks felt like a blur.
Aside from the fact that I was neck deep in my academics, I was also constantly invited to attend sports-related events that, funnily enough, never required me to wear anything sporty. There were cocktails, trade launches, fashion shows—you name it, I got invites for it. To say I got completely overwhelmed was an understatement.
After one such affair, I phoned Charles to whine about the murder of my feet, all thanks to a pair of high-heeled shoes.
“You gotta get used to this, Garns.” He was sympathetic, but I could also hear him struggling to hold back a laugh. “You’re some kind of celebrity now, y’know.”
“Pfft, I’m not a celebrity. Celebrities are effortlessly glamorous, and I’m pretty sure they’re not the type to be sitting barefoot in some corner of an event hall massaging their feet.”
I made him laugh then. “I have a pair of slippers in the car you can use. I’m just waiting for Nat’s ballet class to be over, then we can pick you up right after. The little bugger misses you. I do too.”
“Sounds like a plan. I miss you too,” I said, looking up when I noticed an imposing shadow hovering over me. It was Chris, who wore an amused smile on his face. “I gotta go, see you later. Drive safely. Bye.”
Chris picked up my shoes and sat beside me. I observed him as he examined them like they were the most interesting pieces of footwear he’d ever seen in his life.
“Boyfriend?”
“Uh. No.”
The rival school’s hard-court hottie narrowed his eyes at me. “Sure?”
I play-punched him on the arm, and he pretended that it actually hurt. It’d become a thing. Since that magazine shoot, Chris and I had been bumping into each other a lot at events like this. But if I’d been awkward around him the first time, now was a different story. I never told Charles this, but the way Chris and I fell in sync with each other was so natural, it was almost like having a second Charles around.
Needless to say, I’d been seeing a lot of Chris lately, and his fans had taken notice. Some of them firmly believed there was something going on between Chris Barcelo and myself that a dating rumor got spread around the Internet just last week. He was quick to deny it.
“Stop teasing me.”
“I’m not teasing! I was asking an honest question.”
I paused and thought of how much I missed Charles’ warm smile. Because he had also been busy getting schoolwork done the past several weeks, the only time we were able to see each other was during lunch breaks. And since his Kuya Arthur came home from the United States for a vacation, Charles’ weekends were all about family time. Non-negotiable.
“He’s… someone I’m waiting for.”
“Ohoho! Here we go!” Chris leapt to his feet, still holding my shoes between the thumb and middle finger of his left hand. “Spill, Figs!”
Figs. That was also a thing now—Chris’ nickname for me. Calling me “Ms. Figueroa” was tiresome, he said, and he didn’t want to call me by my first name like everyone else. I didn’t mind. I’d gotten sillier-sounding nicknames from my teammates.
I got up and motioned for him to return the shoes, but he took a few steps back. “Tell me more about this someone,” he said. “It’s the cheerleader, isn’t it?”
I didn’t say a word, but the answer must’ve been written on my face. “Called it!” he declared with a laugh. “Whatshisname... Chuck? Charlie?”
“Chris!” I started toward him, but he took off running. It was impossible to keep up with his long strides. “Are you stalking me?”
“I happen to be very observant!”
I gave up the chase, realizing how weird this was, running around the almost-deserted event hall while some workers took decor down. I noticed some of them looking at us as though we were crazy. “Chriiiiis,” I groaned. “My feet are already killing me—”
“Then you should’ve just told me.”
“I don’t just go around telling people things like that.”
Chris still had that angelic smile plastered on his face when he walked back toward me. “But I thought we were friends,” he said, stopping right in front of me. I moved toward him to reclaim my shoes, but his reflexes were on the ready, pulling the offending pair of heels out of reach. “Aren’t we?”
“We are.”
“So? Maybe you need my help?”
“What? How?”
“Guy advice? Basketball’s not the only thing I’m good at, you know.”
I rolled my eyes. “Your humility astounds me.”
“No, seriously. We’ve hung out about what... nine, ten times? I’ve always felt like you’ve been wanting to ask me something.”
Well, crap. He got me there. I never really had other guy friends I was comfortable with other than Charles, and I couldn’t trust Justine and Colby—dependable as they were—to give me sound advice. Not when they’d swoon every time I talked about Charles. I had thought of asking Chris, but I wasn’t sure we were on that level of friendship yet.
Apparently, we were.
“Fine, fine. But can we sit down?”
An impish smile appeared on Chris’ face.
* * *
Chris’ voice echoed in my head later that evening as I sat in a fast-food joint—Natalie’s choice—watching Charles bring his little sister to the indoor playground.
“You’re worried about being the rebound, I get that. I’ve been there. But, Figs... you have to understand that being the rebound only means that the guy wants you in his life because he can’t stand not having a relat
ionship. Listen. Basketball 101—why do we even fight so hard for a rebound?”
“Depends on which team you’re on and what your goal is.”
“Great. So if you’re defending and you’re lagging behind, you’d need that rebound to score. To win the game, possibly. But say you’re on the offensive team and you’re leading, would you still need to fight for the ball?”
“Of course. You need to protect your lead. You can’t be too complacent.”
“All right. So does it feel like Charles wants the ball—I’m talking about you—because he’s desperate to show his ex he isn’t a loser?”
“Doesn’t feel that way.”
“Then maybe he only wants to protect the ball. Because he knows having it in his court already makes him a winner.”
I felt something touch me, breaking the trance I was in. Blinking a few times, I realized Charles had reached across the table to feel my forehead. “Is everything okay? Are you feeling sick?”
“I’m all right, Charlie.”
“You don’t look it. Anything the matter?”
“Nah. I’m just tired, I guess.”
His face fell. “I’m sorry. I should’ve taken you home right away.”
“Oh, shush,” I said, directing my gaze over his shoulder, toward the playground where Natalie was. She was easy to spot with her pink tutu on. She caught me staring and waved at me. I waved back.
“Are the slippers comfy, at least?”
I chuckled and wiggled my toes under the table. Charles’ slippers were two sizes bigger than my feet, but they were plenty comfortable compared to my killer heels. “They’re perfect, Charlie.”
This time, I reached across the table to give the back of his hand a few gentle pats. “I like being here now. Besides, they only served those tiny little sandwiches at the event. I’m starving.” With that, I picked up my sinful burger and took a huge bite.
“Nat saw this at the convenience store earlier, by the way...” Charlie produced a copy of CollegePH from Natalie’s bag and raised it for me to see. I almost choked upon seeing Chris and myself on the cover being all cute and romcom-y. The cover lines read:
WHEN RIVALRY TURNS INTO HARMONY
Get to know the hottest college power couple!
EXCLUSIVE interviews with
Sapphire Scorpion Chris Barcelo & Lady Hunter Garnet Figueroa
I took the magazine for a closer look, amazed at how the photo looked so genuine. There was a huge grin on my face when I looked up at Charles again. “Wow, this is amazing!”
“Yeah, you look really good together.” What was it that I heard in his tone? Regret? Defeat?
“Charles.”
“No, I mean it.” I fixed my eyes on his hands as he laid out paper napkins on a tray, then dumped his fries onto it. He reached for the packets of ketchup next. “I saw it myself earlier. He seems like a great guy too.”
Before I could say anything, Natalie came running back to our table and reached for some fries. Charles gave Nat’s hand a quick tap and reminded her to wash her hands first. I reached for a fry and fed it to the little girl before she skipped over to the wash area.
“Are you... going on a date with him next Saturday?”
“What date?”
“When you got inside the car, he said, ‘See you on Saturday.’”
I shook my head. “He invited me to join this project he’s doing. A basketball clinic. Oh! Do you want to come join us?”
“It’s Natalie’s tenth birthday on Saturday.”
Crap. I forgot.
“Right. Well—the basketball clinic’s in the morning. I can swing by right after!”
Charles nodded and didn’t say anything more. In fact, he didn’t say much else until he’d dropped me off at my house after dinner.
I screwed up, didn’t I?
SEVEN
Hail Mary Shot
Saturday.
“You seem so distracted. Why is that?” Chris asked me at the water station after I finished a ball-handling session with a group of six-year-olds. I wasn’t sure what he meant. Did I space out during the session? Did I forget anything in the training module he provided?
I filled my water bottle and took a drink. “I’m not distracted.”
“You taught the wrong batch, Figs. But I figured, what the heck, you’d already started.”
I craned my neck to take a look at the children participating, grouped by age. I’d just taught batch 2. Chris assigned me to batch 3.
“Oh god.”
Chris put a hand on my shoulder. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m just... I have somewhere to go after this, and I don’t know if I’m even wanted there.”
“Where is this?”
“Charles’ little sister’s birthday.” I smacked my forehead with my water bottle. “It’s today and I almost forgot, and I think he’s mad at me because it’s been a thing for a while now.”
He snatched the water bottle away and motioned for me to take a seat. “Explain this thing to me.”
“Well, Charlie’s sister grew up with three brothers, so y’know, she kinda adores me.” Chris listened intently as I rambled on about how Charles and I have always teamed up for Natalie’s birthday preparations since college freshman year. Not only had I not been actively helping out with this year’s preparations, I’d also almost forgotten all about it.
“Bummer. I think you’re going to lose a fan.”
I clicked my tongue and threw a punch against his arm. “Can I leave early, please? I’m so sorry, I need to make it to the party.”
“And make it up to your cheerleader.”
“Shut up.”
Chris laughed. “What—you still haven’t decided? I know there’s a saying that goes... ‘If he really loves you, he’ll wait,’ but there’s also ‘The problem is that we think we have plenty of time.’”
I rolled my eyes at him. He was making perfect sense, but I was rejecting it.
“I may have paraphrased a bit,” he said as an afterthought.
“I have decided. But I’m scared.”
He looked at me like I spoke in another language. “Of what?”
“Of not being able to live up to what he thinks being with me will be like.”
“That’s a dangerous thought process, Figs.” Chris returned my water bottle and turned his attention to the children doing basketball drills with the other facilitators. “Even in basketball, we tend to think of worst-case scenarios and prepare for them, but all of those won’t matter if you don’t go out there and play.”
Again, he had a point.
“Hey!” He clapped his hands like a coach would after a huddle. “What are you still doing here, Figueroa? Go out there and hustle!”
* * *
I arrived at the Crisostomo house a little past four in the afternoon, thanks to the traffic congestion caused by some road construction somewhere along the way. It also didn’t help that most of Colby’s costumes were one size bigger, so she had to rummage for one that fit me nicely. Luckily, she had kept a Princess Jasmine costume that only needed a minor alteration. Justine was also there to mind my hair and makeup.
I stepped out of the cab and let myself in through the wide-open gate decorated with pastel-colored balloons and streamers. As I hurried into the house, I ran into a couple of kids with their parents and guardians, already on their way out. My stomach twisted painfully. Is the party over?
Charles’ mother, Tita Helena, saw me first. She was crossing the threshold from the kitchen to the pool area, holding what looked like a bowl of pasta. “Garnet, hija! I’m so glad you made it! Nat’s been looking for you all day!”
“I’m sorry... I had a prior c—”
“Ate Garnet! You’re here!” Natalie, all dolled up as Princess Anna of Arendelle, squealed upon seeing me. She dropped the gift she was unwrapping and ran to hug me. “I thought you forgot my birthday. Kuya said you were busy...”
“Sorry I’m late. My magic carpet malfunctioned, so
I had to take a cab.” I wrapped my arms around her in return and kissed her on the cheek. “Happy birthday, Nat.”
“It’s okay, Ate Garnet. Cabs are less magical than flying carpets, I know.”
I wasn’t able to get her a gift, I admitted, but I promised to take her out shopping for one the following weekend. That delighted her, and I earned another hug.
“Natalie! Bring your Ate Garnet over here so she can have something to eat!” Tita Helena called out, prompting the little girl to pull me by the wrist and lead me to the poolside. Just as I’d thought, the party was over. All that’s left was a colorful mess of balloons, wrapping paper, and toys.
Charles, who was dressed as Prince Charming stood near the buffet table, a vision in white, gold, and red. He was stacking some used cups with one hand and holding a black plastic bag in another. Not exactly princely, but the sight was enough to make me smile.
“I told you, Ate Garnet will be here!” Natalie told her brother proudly, jumping up and down beside me.
He only stared at me, slack-jawed, surprised, and not unlike the first time I’d kissed him.
As I approached, Charles quickly freed his hands and reached for some paper napkins to clean them with. In his haste, he toppled over the cups he had been stacking. From the corner of my eye, I saw Tita Helena stifle a laugh against the back of her hand.
“Leave it, anak. Take care of our guest,” she said, shoving her son away from the table so she could take over instead.
“You look beautiful” were Charles’ first words to me when we were finally standing face to face. Did I just hear his breath catch as he uttered them? Wow. Whatever Colby and Justine did to my hair and makeup must’ve worked really well.
“You don’t look so bad yourself,” I said, stepping forward to give him a kiss on the cheek. “This is so much better than a dress.”
