Chapter 4

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I fell in love with my best friend when I turned eighteen. It wasn’t a coming-of-age thing, even if the things that led me to that realization happened on my eighteenth birthday party.

That night, I was kind of disappointed when one of my biggest crushes in school didn’t show up for the party when just a few hours before he promised he would. But when your best friend, a master of surprises, suddenly walks into the spotlight and performs an impromptu song number from your favorite movie after your crush’s name was called the second time, and then dances with you, it’s kind of hard to remember why you were sad just minutes before.

Especially if said best friend looked so dashing in a gray suit that he wore willingly even if my debut was in the middle of summer. (To be fair, the venue was air conditioned.)

It wasn’t like Mark hadn’t surprised me before; he liked keeping things secret sometimes so he can surprise his friends. But that night, his surprise save made me see him in a different light. I suddenly realized that this guy I’ve had the privilege to call my best friend for the past two years was someone really special.

Unfortunately, Mark was in a relationship at that time, so whatever I felt was definitely unrequited. I decided to bury my feelings because I didn’t want to make it weird for us; I considered our friendship much too important. And by the time he broke up with his girlfriend a few months after my birthday, I was already happily seeing someone else.

There were times when my feelings would resurface, but I tried not to entertain any thoughts of dating him. When we were finally both single, I thought of telling him how I felt. But it didn’t feel as intense by then, and I didn’t know if he felt the same way. Plus, I was scared of losing him as my best friend, so I didn’t rock the boat. Better to have him as my best friend than nothing, right?

And he was a really good best friend. Mark was the nicest and sweetest guy I knew and he had always been there for me since we met. We had different classes on the first two terms of college, but we knew each other’s schedules by heart, spent most of our breaks with each other, and always went home together. When we could finally choose which subjects to enroll in, we tried to get the same sections so we’d have almost the same schedule.

He was there when I failed one of my subjects and I had to tell my parents about it, and I was there when the same thing happened to him. We stayed up working on projects together, exchanging them so we can check each other’s work. We talked for hours on end just to keep each other awake the night before a deadline.

I was his first passenger when he finally got his driver’s license and was granted access to their car, and later he was the one who taught me how to drive. He was there to bring me coffee on those long thesis days. And on his thesis defense, I was waiting outside the door of their defense room with his group while we waited for the verdict. After graduation, we decided not to have a party. Instead, the two of us went on a road trip to Tagaytay for celebratory bulalo. He accompanied me to job interviews, and I accompanied him in getting his permits when he decided to set up his own business. We were there for the big and small things, and he had become a permanent fixture in my life since I met him. Mark always knew what to say or do to make me feel better, and I liked to believe that I did the same for him.

Sure, our friendship had lulls whenever one of us was in a relationship, out of respect for each other’s significant other. But we were still almost always there for one another, always ready to give comfort when either of us needed it (usually in the form of movies, long drives, games, and food).

Except during his last relationship.

“Well that was a pretty long phone call.”

Meah was sleeping over at my place while it was still just my place. She was in the shower when I went out for my phone call, and now she was lying down on what used to be my brother’s bed, her legs propped up against the wall, a book lying on her stomach. I thought she would fall asleep quickly after all the mojitos she drank earlier.

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