Almost Maybes

Chapter 1

Kuya Ely had a habit of not talking when we were inside the church. He just listened to whatever the people in his surroundings were saying. He paid too much attention to the priest's homily, like he was the nicest brother and son in the world, and he didn't even space out the whole duration of the Mass. Contrary to what I do while waiting for the mass to be presided, I looked at everything and everyone in sight. I was reminded of an unforgettable moment I had in this place. The memory invariably resurfaced every time I was here.

This place was a witness to how it all started - the special chapter of my teenage years. I could still point out where we were seated that day. Even in our verbatim conversation, I could vividly recall. All of it was stored in a secret storage in my mind, where no one had access to it but me.

I couldn't stop smiling whenever I would reminisce.

Rex's name was inextricably linked with the word annoying. Yes, he and Ely were very much alike. Rex acted like he was the most pleasant, unproblematic guy in the world. He used to say mean words to me back in college. I could still remember the time when he asked Prix, one of our college friends, to hang my bag in the back of our room. It was hanging there for who knew how long, I didn't notice it was missing until Prix pointed it out.

I was done relying on my earnest intentions when he asked, "What have you prayed for?"

Without looking at him, I answered, "I've prayed for a passing grade for everyone this exam week."

"Wow," he whispered. "That's the kindest prayer I've heard from you," he joked.

Partly true because it was the first time that he asked what my prayers were about.

Given that it was innate in him to unintentionally annoy almost anyone with his slightly sarcastic remarks, I let his comment pass. Although a part of me was dying to strike his arm using one hand and laugh at his statement, I refrained myself from doing those things I had in mind. Instead, I stayed silent. We were at the church, this was not the right place to argue and act like we were the kids who hated each other in first grade.

Swooning with joy he remarked, "Guess what my prayer was?"

I intently thought of a pleasant response. What could be the thing Rex has prayed for? I thought for a while. I gazed at him, I answered with uncertainty. "A 2.5 grade in Accounting?"

My reply implied no other meaning, I said that because he constantly complained to Prix – his bosom friend - about his not-so-good prelim grade in Accounting. I would wish for a passing grade in that subject. Everyone but me would say Accounting was an easy subject, and everyone in our class knew how Rex badly wanted to pass that subject.

"Accounting is as easy as one, two, three," he stated.

"Don't brag like it's really a piece of cake."

But Rex was looking at me with a serious expression on his face, "Someday I'll be a Certified Public Accountant."

"I believe you would," I intoned.

Without saying anything again, I gathered my things, got up, and walked toward the exit. I was standing in front of the egress when a hand from nowhere grabbed the strap of my sling bag. There was no need to tell that it was Rex who did it; he liked to grab my bag out of the blue. Blocking the exit and the ray of sunlight coming from the outside, he averred, "I have prayed for you, Conde."

I was not stunned by his statement. Instead, I started to raise a brow. He must be kidding, I thought.

"I've prayed that someday you'll start to see me as a man, not just as Asis, not just your friend, not just the guy who likes to bug you all the time. That's the sincerest prayer I've ever said, Ivy, and I wouldn't be tired of praying for it," he confessed before walking away.