Jellybean

10 | His.

#JellybeanWP

Chapter 10

His.

HE HAS SPENT his entire life fulfilling an expectation of silence. Dean's chill. Level-headed 'yan. Logical. Walang kibo. Sa sandaling makaramdam siya ng kahit ano at ipakita ito, ang isusumbat kaagad: that's not like you, Dean. Like having emotions is completely uncharacteristic. Na tuwing hindi makaka-attend ng graduation ang magulang niya, he'll always be praised for being so understanding. As if he isn't allowed to feel things at all—to feel anything loudly. Bakit tila magmula bata siya hindi man lang siya p'wedeng maglabas ng kahit konting emosyon?

It's getting to him.

For the longest time, he thought he could get out of it by smoking everything that could be smoked—every chemical and plant—but he isn't here to talk about those times.

His parents didn't tell him they were going to this game. Not even last minute. He just saw them in the patron area while warming up. Dean couldn't even think about Ysabelle, who he knew was there the second he stepped on the court. He wasn't thinking of her as he played. The only time he indulged in the thought was when he was on the bench, and she was on screen. He had no time to think long about her when his parents were there. It loomed in the back of his head knowing they were out there, taking time out of helping kids in Brazil (or was it China this time?) to watch him move a fucking ball around. That, somehow, he'll see in their eyes the regret of coming home and wasting their time just to watch him play like that.

Can his parents blame Dean for not wanting to see them? Itinabi na niya 'yong telepono matapos sabihin na ayaw niyang makita sila. He just wants to fucking rest right now and that's not gonna happen with them in the mix.

Or her.

He hears familiar steps from behind him. Dean shuts his eyes, hearing Ysabelle trail behind him in the Araneta car park.

Go home.

Fuck, Ysabelle, please. Don't do this to him now. He hasn't even begun to process what happened with his parents. Dean knows his limits—the exact amount of bullshit he can take. And after seeing his parents at today's game, he's officially throwing in the towel. Suki na siya. He can't handle any more emotional blows or shitty explanations from people who expect him to understand. He doesn't want to deal with any life-depleting bullshit in his life right now. Lalong-lalo na't kakatapos lang niyang maglaro ng isang 50-minute game against De Sella—one of the most physical games he's ever played in his UAAP stint.

Ysabelle has to go.

She's the only one he can let go.

"I had to sub in, it was work."

"Sure," he says to end the conversation quickly. "Go. Home." Ramdam ni Dean ang ganap na pagod at bigat ng kan'yang katawan sa bawat hakbang.

He's unbearably desperate to crash on his bed—and now is an incredibly inconvenient time to know (or witness) just how relentlessly stubborn Ysabelle Salazar can be.

"Hindi ko naman ginustong pumunta." He hears her say. Dean shuts his eyes, chest growing heavy.

Go home.

"It was out of my control," dadag ni Ysabelle. Hindi naman siya sinisisi ni Dean. Kailan pa lumabas sa bibig niya na kasalanan ni Yoni na naging correspondent siya ngayon? It was work—he knows that. Hindi siya galit dahil do'n.

The moment he stepped on that court, he knew she was there. Seeing her onscreen made it more real, but he has felt her since that first report she did while the teams were warming up. It's not that hard to notice her in a room.