I kept walking. Fast. Purposeful. Like I had somewhere important to be. Like I wasn't just running from the sight of him laughing with someone else.
I shoved my hands in my jacket pockets and focused on the ground. One foot in front of the other. Don't look back.
But of course, Claire's face stayed in my head like a glitch I couldn't reset. I remembered her.
She was that soft-spoken, polished kind of pretty. Always polite. Always sweet. The type who never seemed to sweat, even during P.E. She was just so... effortlessly likable.
And Syron? He always had a soft spot for people like that. Calm. Graceful. Non-messy. Which is basically the opposite of me.
I laughed under my breath again, this time at myself. Why was I even thinking like this?
I mean, he can hang out with whoever he wants. It's not like we're anything. We barely talk. We've had - what? - two actual conversations that didn't involve sarcasm or awkward silence. And one of those involved me almost dying on a treadmill.
That doesn't make us close. That doesn't mean anything. Right?
Then why did it bother me? Why did my chest feel weird and tight when I saw him carrying her bag like it was the most natural thing in the world?
I'm not jealous. That's not it.
I don't like him.
He's just... interesting.
Mysterious.
Hard to read.
Annoyingly tall.
Occasionally kind.
Okay, maybe a little bit more than occasionally. Still. That doesn't mean I like him.
It just means I notice him. That's different. Right?
I sighed and slowed down a little. The wind brushed my face again, colder this time. It reminded me of how stupid this all was. Of how much I didn't want to care, and yet - here I was, turning circles in my own head.
What if she was important to him? What if she was the reason he didn't come upstairs earlier? And what if I was just... a background character in his story? Someone who returned a jacket and made things complicated.
I glanced at my phone but didn't open it. His message was still there - short, polite, emotionless.
"See you around."
Yeah.
Right.
I crossed my arms and kept walking - a little slower this time, my thoughts still buzzing like a playlist I couldn't pause.
Maybe it didn't mean anything. Maybe Claire was just a friend. Or maybe I'm lying to myself again, like I always do when something starts to feel real.
I slammed my phone on the bed with a sigh that shook my whole chest.
I was this close to grabbing every glass thing in my room and smashing it. The irritation bubbling inside me had no outlet, and it was starting to boil over.
And honestly? I didn't even know why I was so annoyed. Okay, I knew. I just didn't want to admit it.
I snatched my phone again and opened Instagram, only to stare at Syron's last message-the one I'd left on seen earlier like the passive-aggressive queen I was becoming.
Online 15 minutes ago. Of course he was.
I rolled my eyes, remembering that stupid moment-him carrying Claire's stuff, smiling like he hadn't just sent me a dry "see you around" hours before.
I stared at the thumbs-up reaction I'd sent. Then, with no hesitation, I changed it to the angry face. Let him think what he wants. He can analyze it, ignore it, or screenshot it for all I care.
I tossed my phone on the study table this time. Farther from my bed, where it couldn't tempt me anymore.
I laid back and stared at the ceiling, eyes unfocused, mind racing. Ugh. I'm going crazy.
Sunday came, and I was back to pretending I was fine. We had planned to go to church this morning. I had just finished showering and was now trying to decide what kind of "holy but still cute" outfit to wear.
I settled on a plain white t-shirt and black high-waist jeans. I wanted to wear something sleeveless, but I could already hear the imaginary scolding I'd get inside the church. Heat stroke wasn't worth it.
We agreed to meet at ten, and I still had thirty minutes left. After mass, we were going straight to the mall. University Week was starting tomorrow, which meant we'd all be buried in our own chaos.
I got a text from Yashina saying she was ready, so I finished getting dressed. We were using my car today, which Dad had technically approved-after giving me a light sermon about "responsibility" the last time I got caught using it without telling him.
I picked up Yashina first-she lived close to the school, so it made sense. Susmita was next; she'd just come from a meeting for class presidents.
"Still alive?" I asked when she entered the car.
"Barely," she muttered. "That meeting could've been an email."
We laughed. Jersey couldn't come-she had training again. So our last stops were Mia and Jhay.
"What's the plan after mass?" Jhay asked the moment he got in.
"Movie, then lunch, then Mia's house," Susmita replied, checking the list on her phone like a project manager.
Typical Susmita and Yashina-our team captains for every friend hangout.
We arrived just as mass was about to start. Ended up running through the parking lot like we were late for an exam. We slipped into the church, muttered rushed "excuse me's," and squeezed ourselves into an empty row near the front.
I barely sat when I felt an elbow.
Jhay.
I didn't even have to look before he whispered, "There's a cute altar boy." I elbowed him back. Harder.
"Shut up. You're in church and you're still flirting?" He pouted dramatically.
"I'm admiring God's creation." I rolled my eyes so hard they nearly got stuck.
After that, I tried to focus. I prayed seriously, stayed quiet, and kept my thoughts as still as I could-even if my brain occasionally wanted to wander to someone who clearly didn't deserve my energy right now.
When mass ended, we waited by the side while Yashina went to the restroom. That's when we ran into Kenzo. Jhay lit up like a Christmas tree.
"Oh my gosh, it's Kenzo," he whispered, eyes wide. "It's really him."
I sighed. "You're the only person I know who treats church like a meet-and-greet."
We walked toward the car, and I wasn't even surprised when Jhay mumbled under his breath with a dramatic sigh.
"Mace was such a killjoy earlier."
I buckled my seatbelt and raised an eyebrow. "You really have no filter. You can't even behave in a holy place."
He made a face like I'd just accused him of a serious crime. "Flirting is a blessing, you know. A spiritual gift."
"Tell that to Father Mike," I muttered.
Everyone burst into laughter as I started the engine. And for a little while, I didn't feel so annoyed anymore.
"I just said he was handsome. You're so judgmental," Jhay shot back dramatically.
Everyone laughed-except Yashina, who just blinked at him, quietly chewing on a piece of gum like she was watching a soap opera unfold in real life.
The mall was nearby, so after parking, we all climbed out of the car, each of us already mid-argument about where to eat.
Mia wanted ramen. Susmita swore she needed rice. Jhay wanted sushi but refused to line up for it. I stood there with my arms crossed, already exhausted just listening.
Yashina, true to form, just stood beside me like a little kid on a school field trip-observing, amused, not a single opinion offered. I chuckled under my breath. How she had the patience, I'd never know.
Finally, after enduring more arguing than an afternoon senate hearing, I cut in.
"To avoid World War III, let's just eat at Cabalen," I said, already turning toward the escalator. "It's a buffet. Everyone shuts up at a buffet."
They groaned but followed behind me-still bickering, of course.
Once inside, we began roaming around, each hunting for our chosen food like contestants in a weirdly local version of MasterChef.
Yashina stuck close to me, her plate already half-filled with fruits like she was some delicate fairy. Meanwhile, I was more interested in sauces-important decisions were being made over gravy consistency.
We made our way back to the table, and soon the others joined us-each with plates so stacked I was half-impressed, half-concerned.
"No leftovers," I warned. "Two hundred pesos each. If one of you wastes food, I'm making you eat the toothpicks too."
They nodded solemnly and dug in like they'd been starved for three days. I wanted to eat more too, but I felt like my stomach had expanded to full balloon mode. Any more and I might literally pop.
We chilled for a bit afterward, lounging in the food court like retirees. Everyone was on their phones. That's when I saw it.
Syron's story.
I tapped it, expecting something harmless. What I got was a video-with her in it again. Claire. Why is she always around?
There was nothing intimate in the clip-just her in the background, laughing at something. But still. The annoyance crept in like an itch under my skin.
But just as quickly, it faded when the camera panned to Chad and Kenzo, sitting beside each other and devouring food like cavemen. I chuckled. At least that part was entertaining.
I raised my own phone and took a quick video of my friends laughing. Jhay was pretending to wipe fake tears with a napkin. I posted it to my story and swiped out of the app.
We headed to the cinema after that. Susmita and Mia went for the tickets while Yashina and I focused on snacks.
I was in charge of popcorn and drinks. She hovered near the candy section, looking overwhelmed by jellybeans.
Once inside, we sat in the middle row. Not too close, not too far. Just right. The lights dimmed. The movie started.
I chewed on my popcorn, laser-focused on the screen-until I remembered we were watching a romance film.
I wanted horror. Suspense. Blood. But of course, Jhay campaigned for romance like it was a presidential platform.
"He needs a love story in his life," I muttered to Yashina. She just nodded solemnly like a nun.