HIP #1: The Ten Weekends

Chapter 17

It has been a minute now since Peter made his way to the bathroom of this court. He left me here all alone, with no one with me. I'm not scared though because I've been here so many times already. Here he is. Wearing his uniform, he walks to me with a smile as he wipes the sweat dripping through his head. I stood up and walked closer to him. "You ready?" I asked, and he nodded.

When I'm with him, I always feel safe. As if danger doesn't exist and it can't encounter me. I know sometimes Peter is a little weak to speak up for himself, but when we're together; it feels like all the problems I have, vanished within just a second. Maybe because he makes me laugh and never makes me cry. He's always there for me whenever I need him.

He pushed the door for me and let me come out first and he followed me. We reached the gate and went out. He waved at the guard with whom I'm not familiar. "Is your day as bad as yesterday?" He asked, and I took a piece of my hair as I tackled it behind my ear. "Still bad, but not like yesterday." I rolled my eyes at the image of Nate passing through my mind again.

"How bad is it? How can it be bad?" He asked and slightly laughed.

"Well, Nate..." I mentioned; Not sure if I should continue.

"Continue," he smiled at me and I nodded. Oh, Peter. Always likes talking about issues.

"Yesterday I told you that Nate's in my house. He's there with his family. Of course, dad would just let him in my room since he's my cousin but the problem is that he's a guy. Another thing, is that dad wants him to stay in my room for the whole ten weekends slash two months that they'll be in our house. He doesn't let you in there but lets Nate," I stated. I know he would get it. When I explain things, that no one gets, he does. He tries to and he succeeds.

"That's bad," he giggles.

"What about you? How was your day?" I asked and fixed the strap of my bag at my back.

He sighed first before lending his eyes on mine. "As usual, school, projects, and practice for basketball like what you've seen just a few seconds ago," he gave out a sweet smile. The wind gave me goosebumps. I don't want to have awkward conversations with my best friend. I don't think I can take that. It's a crap I couldn't work on.

"You still practice for basketball?" Before I even think of what to say, my mouth immediately spoke out of the blue. My mind, heart, and mouth clearly doesn't align.

"Yeah, why?" He frowned at me as if he doesn't know what I'm about to say. If I could only control everything, I won't let him be as innocent as he is right now.

"Don't lie to me, okay?" I said confidently and ran my fingers through my hair and fixed my necktie. He only nodded but didn't say a word next to that. Which I know means that I should proceed. "I know you really don't like basketball, but why do you still do it? Is it because of the things your dad might do to you?" I tried to lower my voice but the other side of me makes me think that he won't hear me if I would be extra silent.

He sighed and faked a smile. As his best friend for several years, I know when his smile is fake and when it's real. His smile right now is obviously fake. He cleared his throat and looked down then looked at a stall. We're here, at the Cassa Florante. He pointed his index finger there and said, "we're here, let's go! My treat today," he smiled and ran to it. He's good in changing the topic just to avoid spilling the truth.

In the other hand, I know why he does that. I know why he avoids telling the truth to anyone but himself. I tried not to mind what I was thinking about even if I can't get it out of my head. I ran next to him and caught him. He sat on our usual spot. The one with the shortest table and four chairs. This is where we usually seat with Charlie and Shane. But today it's just him and me.

"Let me guess, the usual?" The red-haired waiter came and asked. We both smiled at her and she nodded. She knows what we always want. He's in front of me; staring at the people and cars passing by but me, I'm staring at his brown eyes, rosy cheeks, brown hair, and glossy lips. I just hope he won't notice me.

But the world never listens. He narrows at me and frowns once he noticed that I am staring at him. God this is annoying. "What?" I asked him to avoid the question he might ask that I have in mind. He laughed and shook his head. He looks cute and even cuter when he laughs and shakes his head.

Oh, yeah. Finally! Something to interrupt the awkwardness going on. "Here are your orders," the waitress interrupts and places the two plates of French fries and two cups of Strawberry milkshake on the table in front of us while Peter grabs his pocket and gives her a dollar bill which I didn't see because I immediately grabbed the milkshake for I was already so thirsty.

"This tastes good," I praise the milkshake and he looked at me and grabbed his own then took his first sip. He nodded, the smile hasn't vanished yet. He looks perfect with that smile on. "As usual," he adds and takes a piece of fries from his plate and dipped it on the ketchup

Since we were in 8th grade, we usually go here when we're hungry. Until we found out that this is a perfect place for us to hang out. Sometimes we even study here and the waiters and waitresses are now our friends. We are their weekly customers. Always here every week.

"Peter," I called and he stops eating then looks at me with the what look.

"Yeah?" He responded confusedly but still polite. He's always too good to be true.

"Can you answer my question earlier?" He smiles at me. The real smile got replaced by a fake smile.

"Maybe someday," he speaks quietly but calmly. I barely heard it. Almost didn't.

Maybe someday?

What does that mean?

Author's Note:

Maybe someday?!?!?

What do you think that means? 🙃🙃🙃

Before reading the next part, comment down your thought about it!

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