The Art of Loving You

It was around that time… when I met him.

I can hear the droplets of rain outside the building and I was stuck in that dark classroom crying.

“I saw it,” he says.

Humihikbi akong tumingin pataas sa kanya. I was angry at myself. I was so annoyed that I couldn’t do anything. Bakit kailangan ko itong pagdaanan? It wasn’t my choice. This school is a school for society’s royalties. I know I’m not suitable for it. But it was free education and I have no money.

“Don’t cry,” he leans down to me and gives me a dark blue handkerchief. “You look ugly.”

Napanganga ako at biglang tumigil ang luha ko sa gulat. I hiccupped. His usual steel gray eyes shone in the moonlight as he looked up at the ceiling and he smiled, “Sabi na gagana iyon e.”

“Are you done crying?”

Tahimik akong tumango at nagpunas ng luha. Beside me was my tattered bag covered in mud. Basang basa ako sa ulan. Nararamdaman ko lang ang tingin nya sa akin. His height towered over me even when I stood up. What do I do now?

“You can’t go home like that,” sabi nya at hinugot sa bulsa nya ang kanang kamay nya. He grabbed my bag and walked out of the room. “Let’s go. Bilisan mo or else you’ll catch a cold.”

Agad ko syang hinabol. Malakas ang pukpok ng sapatos ko sa tiles at nahiya ako ng makita ang dumi sa lapag. “Just give me my bag. I-I’ll be fine. I need to clean this first.”

Nanginginig nako sa lamig at kinuha ko ang bag ko sa kamay nya ngunit hinila nya ulit ito pabalik. His eyes pierced me with a glare. “Why would you clean that? Ano, janitress ka na din ngayon? Just listen to me. Don’t you have any pride left?”

“Where are w-we going, though?” tanong ko at parang inis ay pumalatak sya bago nya ako inabot at hinila na din.

“Home, we’re going home.”

That's where it all started. The fights, the friendships, the feelings, and the untold truths...