He clutched the straps of his backpack, rocking himself with the balls and heels of his feet. He caught a glimpse of a red Kia Rio and his grip tightens. This would be the first time in almost two years that he'd get to see her again. How does she look like now? He's wondering. He blinked fast and a montage of green orbs, ebony crown and luminance dominate his consciousness, sending a rush of sensory overflow similar to the brisk flapping of a thousand wings. Then he gritted his teeth 'cause she's the spitting image of her.
He looks up and put on a boyish grin when he heard wheels screeching on pavement. He immediately fixed his gaze to the premeditated focal point which is his best friend. His best friend since they were born, souls tautly knotted the moment they learned how to stand on their own two feet—Leon and Jiro were inseparable, even she failed.
Leon was singing and looking entranced by the person occupying the passenger seat so Jiro went straight in through the back door and interrupted him by their own personal dap greeting. Same old same old. Jade eyes met his jaded ones but before he got the chance to divert the silent exchange, she smiled. The flapping of wings ceased for a moment and then proceeded twice as fast with renewed intensity that he felt deprived of air. He managed to nod his head and quickly regretted it due to the lack of a better reply but she looked like she got a lot more than that miserly attempt at camaraderie.
His brows furrowed. Is she the same old Ariadne Emily Fellor?
The same old little girl who offered him her own half-eaten ice cream? The same old wide-eyed kid who lent him a pencil that he used to injure another kid with? The same old seatmate of Leon's during grade school that kept on sneaking glances at him and remembered he hated it because she's just one of the many eyes malevolently scrutinizing him? The same old girl who fell victim to her classmates' annoying shenanigans—the very same seventh graders he'd beaten up because he had to keep his notorious image of aggressiveness? The same old girl whom he had written a letter to but was too much of a coward and spiteful to give it and too much of a best friend that he'd rather be the conveyor of the letter he didn't write? The same old girl who acted all so into him until someone promised her unicorns, rainbows and a trip to the moon? The same old girl who can't keep a sense of dignity, batting her eyelashes at him while she held hands with someone else? The same old girl who put a gap between his only friend and him, but also the very same one who gave a semblance of normalcy to his life's insanity? The same old girl who lights her room up whenever he gets lost in his own turbulent reality so he could follow it like a lighthouse to a stable ground? The same old girl who would bring him comfort food looking like an innocent, sweater-knitting, senile lady while she was anything but? The same old girl who had been the embodiment of "all or nothing" to him? The same old girl who looks exactly like the nightmare who shattered his dreams? The same old girl who confessed to him at their high school graduation party but didn't bother waited to what he had to say?
What was it that he could have had said?
Is it "I wished I only hated you but I don't."? To his chagrin, with or without elaboration, any statement would always induce the most annoying question... "Why?".
He hated whys more than he hated what ifs:
"Why are my parents always fighting?"
"Why did my father left?"
"Why is the woman from the next house in my father's car?"
"Why are their faces mashed together?"
"Why did my parents separated?"
"Why am I alone?"
"Why is this girl so kind to me?"
"Why does she look like the woman my mom hates?"
"Why did I kept her pencil?
"Why are these kids so rude to me?"
"Why do I have to go to school?"
"Why can't I help staring at Leon's seatmate?"
"Why am I living with an alcoholic who used to be my mother?"
"Why do I always look at the window across mine?"
"Why do I want to burn their house?"
"Why do I want to hurt everybody?"
"Why don't I want to go home?"
"Why do I always go home?"
"Why did I fought with her classmates?"
"Why did I wrote her a letter?"
"Why did I helped Leon?"
"Why did I want to beat him to a pulp?"
"Why am I still here?"
"Why do I want to hurt her mother?"
"Why can't I sleep?"
"Why do I want to hurt her?"
"Why do I want her?"
"Why am I still hurting?" is the latest 'why' added to his never-ending pile. The easiest to answer but not the easiest to ignore. Especially when he's thinking "What if I'm the one behind the wheel?"
"What if I don't have to take a furtive glance anymore?"
"What if I can sing my heart out even when my voice embarrassingly cracks?"
"What if I can freely share a laugh with her?"
"What if I can have my best friend behind and still support me even when he feels like a pathetic third-wheel?"
"What if I have my own car?"
"What if I have a perfect family?"
"What if I tried harder?"
"What if I never failed?"
