I hated whitening soaps, creams and lotions. Contrary to what those commercials claimed, they did nothing to lighten my skin. That or I was born resistant to the effects. If anything, I just developed rashes whenever I applied them on my arms and legs. So Mama told me to stop using them before the chemicals could damage my young skin. She had always reminded me to be comfortable being a morena.
Easy for her to say because she's not as dark as I was. Mama has the perfect golden-brown skin. Me? I was that cheese stick left too long in the pan before it got totally burnt.
And it didn't help that I got Papa's genes for height and bone built. If I cut my hair short, I would be mistaken as his son. It happened to me back in fourth grade. And it still happened whenever I wore caps.
Sometimes I wished I were born a boy because then it would be acceptable for me to be tall and dark.
"Stop saying that, Felicity," Mama would reprimand me with a frown whenever my insecurities surface during dinner. "This family already has enough males to deal with. You're a breath of fresh air."
"And a tint of dark skin the family needs," Kuya Six would add and I'd glare at him. "What? It's a compliment. The Ventura's are too pale. We need more children who are not prone to skin cancer."
"Six." Papa would reprimand kuya, pegging him with a stare and immediately shutting him up. Then, his eyes would shift to me forcing me to look down, knowing exactly what he'd say next. In fact, I could recite it by memory.
"Seven," he'd begin. "Skin color doesn't matter in basketball."
He's right though.
If there's anything that could make me forget my insecurities, that's playing the sport our family loves. Basketball.
That's why during summer, while most people were at the beach getting tanned, I'd be sweating buckets while shooting hoops at our open barangay court with Kuya Six and our neighbors. Like what Papa would always tell me, they didn't mind that I was too dark or too tall for a girl my age. Nevermind that we're all baking under the sun. We all just wanted a nice, fair game.
How I wish it were always summer.
🏀🌞🏀
There's a reason why Tarlac is named as the Melting Pot of the central Luzon. No, I'm not talking about what the history books say about my province being the food center of Luzon. It's just that the heat here is so terrible, the littlest of movement could make you feel like you're in a clay pot getting stewed in your own sweat. Especially during the dry season.
Even so, I would always look forward to summer for three reasons.
First. No homework to think about. No classmates to piss you off. And most of all, no exams.
Second. For naturally-sun kissed people like me, it's that time of the year where we didn't stand out because everyone got tanned from the beach. Which meant, I could wear sleeveless shirts without getting teased.
Third. (And I gotta say, this was the best reason why I love summer.) I got to play ball with the San Rafael Voyagers.
It's not because I played for our barangay (even if I really wanted to). To begin with, there weren't a lot of girls who played the sport. I mean, even at school, the teachers thought it's too physical for girls so we ended up with either volleyball or softball.
To satisfy my need to play the sport, I practiced with the San Rafael Voyagers often that they dubbed me as an honorary member of the team. It's one of the perks because Papa was the team coach and Kuya Six was the team captain. But Papa was assigned in Davao for a year, overseeing the company warehouse they just set up (he worked at a bottling company). Which left the Voyagers in the able hands of my brother.
"'Ma, I'll head out now!" Kuya Six called out after doing some warm up shots with me at the garage that doubled as a half-court. It's the least I could do to ease his tension for a game they're about to have even if I knew it would be an easy win for them. They were only playing against the San Sebastian Gladiators. It should be easy as pie.
"Mimingat ka 'ne." Mama wiped her hands on her apron. She always left her kingdom that was the kitchen to bid us goodbye whenever we're going out of the house. She prepared packed lunch for her customers everyday. It had been one of the reasons why she didn't tag along Papa when he still played basketball for a living, or now that he always got assigned in other places where his company had a warehouse. "Aren't you going to watch them play?" she asked while we watched Kuya Six drag his bike around, testing the wheels if they needed air pumping.
I had a feeling there's more to Mama's words than she's letting on. But even before I could ask her what she really wanted me to do (maybe spy on my brother just to check if he's saying the truth and not using the team to see the girl he's pining for), Kuya started spouting things to piss me off again.
"You know she'll jinx us!" he gasped dramatically before he turned to me and grinned. "Besides, we'll be playing at the open courts. I don't want her getting toasted even mo—Aw!" he laughed, rubbing his arm that got hit by the ball I threw at him.
"That's what sunblocks are for, dummy," I pointed out before sticking my tongue out.
"Sunblocks are not effective on you," he shot back, ginning even more widely.
Before I could stomp my way to him to yank his hair out, Mama intervened. "Stop teasing your sister. You're just being self-conscious when she watches you play." She draped a protective arm over my shoulder but kuya just sneered at me.
My brother and I bickered more often than we hugged. It would take a lot of coercion, reluctance and more banters before we did give each other a brief and very awkward hug. Although this may be the case, we both knew that underneath the squabbles, we always wished each other good luck and hoped for the best in whatever we were doing together or separately. No matter how trivial, or how we teased each other about it too.
"Kong Six, achu ka pa pala!"
It's the voice I could recognize anywhere and I stiffened beside Mama as Luis Von Montoya riding his own bike slowed down to a stop in front of our gate. As always, L looked dashing in the team uniform – red and white jersey (same as mine), patterned after an anime series kuya and I used to watch when we were kids. Unlike my brother and I who were already sweating from our light workout, L still looked fresh. I wondered if he even had sweat glands.
I surreptitiously wiped the sweat on my forehead before he flashed me a smile making my knees weak. Mama, being the supportive mom that she was, even tucked my hair behind my ears.
L played point-guard for the Voyagers and he's the teammate that my brother trusted the most. I bet, he'd be the next captain once Kuya Six became too old to join the games, or too busy in college and couldn't participate. He's also the Student Council President and running for valedictorian in Debellare Academy and had competed in various academic and athletic competitions within the province. Once, he even reached national levels for a journalism contest. The fact that he's brown-skinned whether from staying too long under the sun or inborn made him even more appealing to me. In short, L was the total package and I was just one in his bajillion admirers.
The downside? He's a few centimeters shorter than me. Just a few. It wasn't even noticeable as long as I was at an arm's length. So I tried to stay at a safe distance from him, my dream of snapping a photo of us together tucked away in the farthest corner of my head, knowing it wouldn't happen. Because based from my experience, most guys got uncomfortable with taller girls (at least that's the case with my classmates). It's also a way to keep my feelings under wraps, too.
My brother and L just finished talking about the whereabouts of the other players when Kuya Six excused himself to get something from the house and L turned to me with that full smile, practically showing his pearly set of white teeth. I forgot how to breathe when he parked his bike against our gate and let himself inside.
"Hi, Tita Vangie," he said, taking Mama's hand and bringing it to his forehead.
Mama's smile was as wide as mine. She wasn't immune to L's charms. "Good luck on your game, hijo."
"Thanks, Tita." He then exhaled, as if preparing himself for a daunting task, before turning to me. "Hi Seven."
Mama pivoted on her heel, a sign that she was about to go back to the house and I latched onto her arm, silently begging her not to leave me alone with him. I mean, I could barely talk to him in a group!
"I have to check the food I'm cooking, Seven," she pointedly and teasingly told me. "Why don't you entertain L. It's not like you don't know him." That and she practically glided on her back to her meal preparation business.
Quick to ward off the awkwardness, L kept the ball rolling. "Have you registered for the college entrance exam yet?"
It was not the first time that he started a conversation with me. Even so, I still couldn't get used to it so I shook my head and gave him a sheepish smile. "Uh, I'm only Grade Eleven this year."
"Oh, shoot. I keep forgetting I'm ahead of you by a year!" he chuckled, slapping his forehead.
I couldn't blame him for constantly forgetting we weren't in the same level. I mean, we didn't talk much thought we're practically neighbors (he lived two blocks away from us). Plus, we went to different schools and anything related to school was hardly in our conversations. I was pretty sure I was not the only girl he spoke to either. For all I know, he's just making small talk because he's the type of guy who got uncomfortable with dead air. Or maybe he found it rude to ignore his captain's sister.
"I suppose you aren't watching this time, either?"
I scrunched my nose. "In case you haven't heard the legend yet, I'm a harbinger of bad luck." My brother's exact words, not mine.
For a moment, he gave me a disapproving look before his lips turned into a hard line. "No, you're not."
Not wanting to argue, I dropped the subject and decided to pick up the ball that had rolled to the corner instead of the garage. The distance was necessary so he wouldn't ask stuff that I found sensitive. My not watching any of the Voyagers' games included. Thankfully, Kuya Six reappeared before I was forced to explain myself to L.
"Someone will be taking a video of the entire game," Kuya exhaled before mounting his bike. "Let's analyze it soon."
I nodded with a brief smile.
"See you later, Seven," L said, waving at me.
As I had already maxed out my speaking time with L without making a fool out of myself, I only managed to return the gesture and watched them, with longing, as they pedaled their way to the open courts.
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imingat ka 'ne = in Kapampangan means 'take care'
ne = is an expression used like 'okay' or 'right?'
Kong or Koyang = means 'older brother' in Kapampangan
achu ka pa pala = you're still here
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Peg for Felicity "Seven" Ventura is Jessma Clarice Ramos of the UP Lady Maroons Volleyball Team.