I swallowed my food unchewed, and I choked after hearing Ziggy's declaration. Abruptly, he handed me a glass of water. His unwavering concern for me always shows, especially in some situations like this. After I take a big gulp, even can barely say a word, not because I choked but because of the feeling that's unfathomable. I shook my head. "No, Ziggy, I'm sorry, but I can't do this. You never know how happy I am that you're here as my best friend, and I don't want to lose it. I'm scared to lose our friendship just because our relationship changes to something more, and we may tend to be more sensitive and complicated."
"Are you sure you would prefer that way?" His melancholic voice is low and suppressed. I nodded slightly, eyes focused on my food, avoiding his gaze, sensing his frustrated sigh. "If it's what you want... So, are you done? So we can go now."
"Oh, you're done, yes, me too. Now you will be going for ice skating next and—" I failed to finish what I was supposed to say when he stood up in a jerk, not intending to hear whatever words I meant to say next.
"Let's go!" As briskly as he walks towards Bettina, I move as sluggishly as I can.
They're already inside the skating rink, and I, a lonesome spectator outside.
Bettina invited me to go with them, yet I found a neat alibi that I'm scared of it and the freeze burn; besides, I know nothing about skating. Bettina doesn't know how to skate either, and she's been holding tight to Ziggy since they got in. He, too, is holding her graciously. Ziggy, on the other hand, is a skilled skater. He has been skating since he was a kid. It had been one of their family's favorite bonding activities every time his father came home for vacation.
Zig's one hand is holding Bettina's hand, and the other is on her waist. I can hear Bettina's giggle every time she slips, as does Ziggy's chuckle. Being flabby and unstable, Ziggy's holding her tighter now.
Mindful that I'm hurting from what I've seen, my sights start to get blurry as the tears begin to form in my eyes. Yes, I love Zig, but I want to make sure that it's the kind of affection that a lover should have. I don't want to be unfair, but what if this feeling is just some kind of friendly love and he'll expect more.
Eventually, as they were both enjoying the skating, Bettina dramatically tripped; promptly, Zig grabbed her and wrapped her safely. His arms were totally around her torso as her sexy limbs wrapped around his nape. I discerned Ziggy looking at me, and when he notices me watching them, he kissed her on the lips.
The scene causes me emotional anguish, and I'm aware that I don't have any power to conceal it anymore, for the crystal-clear liquid, by then, escapes from my eyes. To avoid them witnessing such inappropriate reactions. I take out my phone to cover my face, assuming that I'm taking shots of them. I captured such perfect photo documentation for our organization, showing this Valentine's program's success, yet the worst image that I hope I will never see again.
***
It's past 3 am, and I haven't slept at all. Somnolence never came to visit me. The feeling is heavy, crestfallen. I'm still staring at my cellphone, hopeful for Ziggy's text, minus the conception of what I want to hear from him- maybe some explanation or excuse for everything that had happened on the skating rink, or just any messages that can make me feel better. Texting him first crossed my mind, but it's late, and he sure is asleep.
I lay back in bed, closed my eyes, trying to sleep because I need to. I still have a class in the morning. Then, out of the blue, my phone buzzes; there's a text. I jump out of my bed at once to check it out.
(Unknown Number) You might be sleeping yet. Sorry for texting you this early; just hoping to be the first one to say Good Morning!
(Cloe) Zig? Is it you? Is it a new number?
(Unknown Number) You and Zig are truly so close with each other that he is the only one you perceive to text you at his hour, and sorry, did I wake you up?
(Cloe) Not really; I've been awake, and who's this, by the way?
(unknown Number) It's Nixon; hopefully, Zig had already mentioned me. I asked for your number from him.
(Cloe) Yes, he mentioned you once. Do you always wake up this early, or have you just not slept?
(Nixon) I woke up early today to study. We will be having a quiz later, and I will text you the instant Zig sends your number. I've been asking him for your number for a while now, and he sent it to me just now this least expected time, a wee hour.
I was taken aback after I read Nixon's latest message. "Ziggy is awake? Why? Can't he sleep? Is he troubled too? Is he thinking of me?" As I'm mumbling in confusion.
(Nixon) Cloe, can I invite you to lunch today? I mean, can we eat lunch together at school?
(Cloe) Sorry, Nixon, I already have steady company during lunchtime at school. My best friend, Zig.
(Nixon) Of course. How about after school? Can I send you home?
(Cloe) Maybe, I'll see you in school.
The next morning, I'm a bit woozy; my feet are as heavy as my head, a comparable consequence for not sleeping last night. But it's all right, and I'm sure Ziggy is already there waiting for me at the jeepney stop as he always does. I can simply lean on his shoulder and take a nap on our ride to school.
Looking for him back and forth as I walk in the midst of scattered passengers, but he's nowhere to be seen, not even his shadow. Why am I not thinking that he might be mad at me over yesterday's conversation, or maybe I don't want to think about it? I take out my phone, dial his number; it rings, but no answer. I tried it again and again and again, but all were with the same outcome. Did it just happen by chance, or does he really intend to cancel my calls? I've decided not to be cynical and go straight to school by myself.
Standing in our classroom's doorway. I move my eyes around the surroundings, hoping to see Zig, but still, he's nowhere to be found. Although our professor had not arrived yet, it's unusual for Ziggy not to be around this late. Not unless his absent.
Not long after, our professor breezed in, and tailing him was Ziggy, catching his breath, obviously having been running. I promptly took off my books from the next desk beside me, the usual desk where Ziggy sits. Ever since we've been in the same class, we always sit beside each other. But instead, he goes straight to the vacant seat at the back. I followed him with my gaze, but he'd never notice my presence. Everything is vague, and I'm unable to understand why he's acting that way clearly. I'm too puzzled, confused about everything he had been showing and making me feel this day, just really awkward and weird.
Lunch break, our professor steps out of the classroom. Not a second later, Ziggy follows him to the exit without a single glance at me. I let the situation slide despite my dismal mood. Until everyone in class sets forth, leaving me alone, glued in my seat, musing, just as somebody taps me on the shoulder.
"I just passed by when I saw you alone. I thought you'd be having lunch with Ziggy. Where is he?" Nixon flustered when he asked me.
I shook my head as I uttered with grief. "Can you go with me to lunch?"
"Sure," Surprised yet without hesitation, he answered.