I ran across the all-too familiar high school court to greet my friends. God, how I missed them. The hirits, the jokes, the sarcastic conversations that no one ever gets in college. A couple of rants about stupid college professors and classmates milled around the group. Dozens of “Hey do you remember” stories were unearthed. And millions of “I miss yous” were uttered at random moments.
You were still air. I wasn’t ready. So you were still cloaked with invisibility.
You grabbed my arm as I was walking towards the canteen.
The touch was like white flame. Surprised, I jerked away.
“So feeling mo parin vindicated ka? Para kang tanga. FYI, ang pangit mo.”
I stood there dumbfounded as you took off to the other side of the school. Looking around, everyone stared at me, too afraid to get near.
Fuck high school.
I woke up not knowing the difference between reality and dreams. I frantically dialled a number on my cellphone, desperate for someone to talk to.
“Alam mo yung siesta? Ginagawa ko yun eh.”
“Fuck you.” I managed to get out before I succumbed to the welcoming pits of confusion.