Chapter 12: Yellow. Red. White.

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Maybe it’s part of the healing process. Or maybe it’s my way of coping with the fact that I still miss him. And a thousand more maybes that I will never be sure of.


It had been months since my encounter with Ralph at St. Francis’. Although he did apologize for the ambush confrontation a week after and suggested that we patch things up and try to be friends again.


Friends… I still can’t help but wince over the term. Carrie had almost gone mental when I mentioned it to her.


“Friends? He wanted you two to be friends? You have got to be f*cking kidding me,” she sizzled. “Tell me, has he lost his mind? ‘Coz I can refer him to some shrinks in the hospital if he wants too,” she chattered furiously.


It is plausible if you think about it, the friends thing ― not the stuff about shrinks. But oddly enough, I don’t think I will be able to patch things up with him that easily when I myself still am going to a rough patch.


Yet again, incongruously, I found myself loitering idly outside his art exhibit. This is becoming a bad habit for me… one freakin’ hard habit to break.


I usually go to this place, where my boundary ends and his starts ― yes, so that makes it his territory, but not in a gangster-like manner. I do dread the fact that bumping into him anytime has a great possibility, but that mere reason does not stop me from doing so. I don't really know but maybe for some reason, bumping into him one way or another enthralls me... It entices me more to go here more often, just to test the risk what destiny would decide to throw at.


“Wendy?”




Are my eyes just playing a trick on me or am I really seeing Wendy standing outside the gallery?


“Wendy?”


“Hey, Ralph,” she greeted me, but I did notice a sound of reluctance from her voice. Then an awkward silence enveloped between the two of us.


“Uhhh... What are you doing here?” she said, terminating the quietness.


I chortled. “I should be asking you that, you know.”


“Argh, shut up,” she suddenly grunted, which startled me.


“Excuse me?” I pardoned. What did I do now? I fretted silently.


“Oh, no. Not you. My apologies. You were saying?”


That was weird. “Oh… I said I should be asking you the same question, don't you think?”


“Oh, that… Uhhh…,” she stammered. “Actually, I don't really know how to put this but to tell you the truth, my feet have kind of dragged me somewhere and I ended up here. That's not a bother on your part, right?”


I felt my heart skip a beat. She ended up here? I struggled really hard not to make any presumptions.


“Oh, no. I'm sorry if my question might have offended you. This is a public place anyway and besides, seeing you again made me feel delightful.”


I couldn’t help but gaze at her. She looked more stunning than I had remembered.


“Hey, uhmm… It's… errr… nice catching up with you again but I really gotta go… so…,” she hesitated.


“Oh, of course, sure. I hope that we could chat much longer next time,” I smiled.


I saw her cheeks flush. “Uhhhh… Okay… So, bye now,” she hurriedly said and quickly walked away. It all happened too fast I didn’t even had the chance to respond and all I could do was to watch her go.


Well, that went well ― so far so good. Maybe she’s really considering my offer to be friends again. And I’d have to say that seeing her really made my day. If only I wasn’t about to be married to someone else…




“Let me guess, you went to his art gallery. Again. Am I right or am I right?” My best friend welcomed me with sarcasm when I got home.


“No, I didn't.” I even feigned a grimace to prop the tall tale.


“I wasn’t born yesterday, missy. What I do not know might not kill me, but your conscience won’t let you run away from it.”


“What gave you the idea that I went to see him?”


She raised his eyebrow and gave me a killing glare. “Do you really want me to answer that?” I rolled my eyes and walked pass her. “Hey, I’m still talking to you,” she called out after me.


I climbed up the stairs stomping my foot. “Whatever. I’m not in the mood to have an axe to grind right now because I still have to study for my exams tomorrow.”


I wanted to escape her but she immediately caught up with me. “Oh, how sweet,” she crooned along my side.“You can find time to visit his art exhibit even if you have a major test tomorrow but you don’t have a minute to spare to give an explanation? Just delightful.”


I opened my bedroom door and stopped to face her. “Okay, what the hell is your problem, Carina?” I snapped.


She chuckled darkly. “My problem? I should be the one asking you that question in the first place. But since you asked,” she shrugged. “You. You are my problem,” she glowered.


“Oh, please, cut me some slack here and let me live my own life.” I removed my shoes and threw my bag carelessly on my bed.


She casually and comfortably lounged on my couch like we weren’t engaged in a heated discussion. “Well, I can’t possibly do that, can I? I can’t possibly sit and watch you ruin your life over some guy.”


“I am not ruining my life over some guy,” I countered while scanning my books. “I am eating well, sleeping well, playing well, studying well, and living well. I am completely all right. What makes you think that I am ruining my life?”


“Is that a rhetorical question?” she mocked.


I groaned in exhaustion. “Carrie, cut to the chase. I don’t have all day. If you’re furious at me just say it. Yell at me if you have to just to get this over with.”


“I am not mad exactly at you all told, rather I’m mad at you allowing some chip on your shoulder to get into you. I’m mad at who you are becoming. Didn’t think I’d notice, eh?” She stood up and crossed the room. “Look, I’m just worried about you, okay? You may be fooling everyone but not me. Yeah, you’ve managed to keep your head above water but all this time you’re doing it like a languid automaton.”


She sat beside me and continued. “You used to play your cello every time you come home, but now you barely even touch it. You used to jog around the UP campus every weekend mornings. We used to watch movies of Audrey Hepburn every Wednesday night with a box of tissue on our laps and cry over them. Now? Those are just nothing but what-used-to-be's. What happened, Chi?”


She heaved a long and heavy sigh. “He’s just one guy, Chi. One guy. You don’t have to give up everything just because of one guy.”


I stared at the open book on my lap. “Yeah, he is just one guy… but he is the guy who chose to break my heart and announce to the whole world the next day that he’s getting married. And complicatedly enough, he stops me midway just to tell me his misses me and asks if we could be friends again. What the hell, right?” I chuckled acerbically and wiped the tears from the corner of my eyes. “I fell in love but unfortunately it ended badly for us. And now I’m trying to move on. I’m trying to get by. This is my means of getting by. You should be happy that I’m not trying to kill myself or anything.”


“No,” she disagreed. “This is not getting by. This new compulsion of yours is not doing any good at all but merely adding fuel to the fire. Time heals all wounds, Chi, even at a snail’s pace.” Carrie put her arms around me. “Stop doing this to yourself, Chi. He’s not worth it.”




“Wake up.” I felt someone’s hand ruthlessly tugging my foot.


I grumbled and pull the sheets over my head. “It’s a Saturday, I want to sleep in.”


Carrie tried to yank the sheets away from my grip. “Get up,” she grunted “You are coming with me whether you like it or not,” she commanded and has successfully snatched the comforter from me. “Now, are you going to willingly get up or do I have to forcefully do that for you also?”


“Where are we going anyway? It’s seven o’clock in the morning! The malls aren’t even open yet,” I griped.


“Jogging,” she informed me.




“Carrie, I’m tired.” I paused and gasped for air.


“Oh, stop whining. You haven’t ran for a while that’s why your stamina has decreased.”


“I could be dying of asthma here and that’s all you can recommend? Thanks a lot, Doctor San Isidro,” I rumbled.


“Balut,” she suddenly shrieked, ignoring my cynical remark, and sprinted towards the balut vendor. I couldn’t do anything but ran after her. “Want one?” she casually offered while I was breathing heavily beside her.


“You’re unbelievable,” I muttered as I sat on the concrete curb. She sat beside me and continued to eat the poor duck embryo contentedly.


This rascal. After she had unwillingly roused me from my sleep, she’s just going to eat balut and ignore me?! Gahd, how I wish Kuya was here since Carrie is not truly being helpful as a converser right now.


“I miss Kuya,” I sighed.


“That contemptuous brother of yours who has gone AWOL,” she sneered. “How can he call himself a future lawyer, eh?”


“Oh, don’t be ruthless.”


Kuya has been gone for quite some time now, and we have no idea where he is. Our parents are not even worried nor vexed about it. They’ve gotten used to his ever so frequent take offs; and because they knew he can look after himself, but still, right? Though I heard Mom suggesting to Dad about buying Kuya a place of his own since he’s so inundated with independence anyway.


“So, do you mind telling me the details of your experience as Ralph’s stalker?” she asked, which interrupted my trail of thoughts, when she had finished stuffing her face with balut.


“I’m not stalking him, Cars,” I defended.


“I wonder what it’s called if it’s not stalking?” she mocked.


“I just wanted to check if he decided to keep the stargazer painting, okay?” I admitted.


“Ah, of course, the infamous yellow stargazer painting of Artist delos Reyes,” she marveled sarcastically.“Well, did you see it there?” I shook my head. “Do I need to say more on what it clearly implies, my dear?”


“Carrs, I get it. I’m not that stupid when it comes to realizing the obvious.”


“Yeah, but you have a vague acuity on reading between the lines.”


I hit her lightly. “Did I mention he has a new car?” I said, changing the subject. “A glossy Barolo-red Mercedes-Benz CLS550, take that.”


“Wait, I thought their broke? Why the hell does he have a new car? And Mercedes-Benz pa, ha?”


I shrugged. “Early wedding gift from the in-laws?” I wryly suggested.


“Or a bribe,” she said smugly; I couldn’t help but snort over the thought. “Anyway, what are your plans concerning his offer of armistice?”


It wasn’t exactly a tempting proposal, nor was it revolting ― but am I ready to wave the white flag as well?




Credits:

Oil Painting of Tiger Lilies by Susan Martin Spar
Performance Mercedes-Benz CLS-Class Coupe


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