Come Saturday morning, Tito Tim makes good on his word and gives me an intense training session. He still doesn't relent on the sparring match, insisting I still need drills. He decides on double stick striking, blocking, and parrying techniques for today.
My non-dominant left hand used to give me a few problems with grip and control but now it feels just as strong and secure as my right hand. The rattan sticks are a part of me now, and as I warm up with a few twirling exercises, I can't help but remember what an old friend had once said.
"It's like they have sticks for hands!" he had exclaimed as we watched the more advanced students spar. But our Guro refuted him a little later, telling us how our sticks should serve as mere extensions of our hands. Without the hands, the sticks are useless.
His name was Theo. I was six, Theo was seven, and the two of us were easily the youngest in Tito Tim's arnis class back in Cavite. Because of our shared interest in Filipino martial arts, and because we were both so socially awkward, we got along right from the get-go.
Theo and I went to different schools and he lived quite the distance from where I did, so we only ever got to see each other at the martial arts studio on Saturdays. As the years went by, our friendship and love for arnis only grew. We synchronized our lessons so we could go from our once-a-week schedule to about thrice-a-week during fourth grade.
He was a bit on the short side compared to the other boys our age, and he started with arnis thinking that it'd help him toughen up a bit. But I always thought that Theo didn't need arnis. In fact, it seemed like the other way around. The arnis world needed him. He was a natural. Even Tito Tim thought so.
Though we rarely spent time outside the martial arts studio, Theo and I were as close as best friends came. Looking back, he was probably even more than that. So, when he suddenly moved away without even leaving any means to keep in touch, I felt crushed, to say the least. And when things suddenly started falling apart at school, I missed him even more. Losing my best friend made everything so much worse.
"Alexa!"
"Yes, Guro!"
Tito Tim's sharp voice brings me back to the present, and I instinctively jump to attention stance. Feet apart. Both hands on the sticks held in front of me. Of course, it doesn't fool anyone. Not my Guro. Not even myself.
Tito Tim folds his arms in front of his chest. "I've been telling you to start with double stick strike drills for a while now, but you just kept on with the twirling. What's the matter?"
"Nothing, sir."
His eyebrows go all the way up. Of course, he isn't buying it.
"Really, it's nothing," I insist unconvincingly, and start with the double stick drills. "I was just thinking about Cavite."
"Cavite, huh? Come on, Alexa. We both know 'Cavite' means you're thinking about Theo. Your first love." Tito Tim takes hold of a baston and meets my strikes. "Harder. Twist your upper body. Give it some force."
I do as he says and throw more strength into my swings. "He's not my first love, Tito. He was my best friend."
"Regardless, I hope the kid's still doing arnis today. He was quite something back then." A smile appears on Tito Tim's face. I wasn't the only one who missed Theo when he left. "Shame the two of you didn't keep in touch."
"Yeah, well, he kind of disappeared so suddenly, Tito. I had no idea how to keep in touch."
"Not even online?"
"Nope. Nothing."
But not for a lack of trying. It's not the first time I've thought of Theo. I guess as long as I'm doing arnis, I'll always be reminded of him. I tried searching for him on a couple of social media sites years ago, but none of the seventeen 'Theo Guevarra's I found bore even the tiniest resemblance to the Theo I once knew. I soon gave up wondering about where he was and had to be contented with the memories I had of him.
"Alexa, your footing."
Ugh, not again. "Yes, Guro."
"Keep that up, and we'll be working on nothing but stance and posture next week."
NO WAY. "I'm sorry, sir. I'll do better."
"I expect that you will."
For the rest of the morning, Tito Tim and I continue training, with me paying extra attention to my footing. At around 11 o'clock, Tita Becca comes to call us for lunch. Knowing that we both still need to shower and change after the whole workout, she's made it a habit to call on us at least thirty minutes before she actually finishes preparing our meals. I hurriedly take my shower to help Tita Becca set the table. Since I can't be trusted to help in the kitchen lest I accidentally set fire to something, setting the table is the least I can do.
"So, how were my favorite arnisadors this morning?" Tita Becca asks as she passes me a bowl of sinigang. I eagerly take it from her and taste a spoonful of the sour soup. Perfect.
"Well, hun, Alexa's footing needs some serious practice," says Tito Tim as he reaches for his own bowl of Tita Becca's specialty. "Her head was obviously somewhere else. She was a little spacey today."
"Tito!"
Tita Becca lets out a hearty laugh. "Oh, was she now? Is there something on your mind, Alexa dear? Or maybe, someone?"
I avoid all eye contact with my aunt and uncle, and focus on the delicious bowl of sinigang na baboy in front of me. "Nothing and no one, Tita."
"We were just talking about her old friend, Theo."
"Oh, I remember him. Alexa's first love."
"We were best friends, Tita. Just best friends."
"Of course, you were, dear. Besides, that's all in the past. I know you're already seeing that other guy. When are you going to introduce him to us?"
Tito Tim's eyes immediately widen and he turns to me with such a piercing gaze, he might as well have shot daggers at me. Who on earth is your Tita talking about? he asks silently. Trying to remain nonchalant, I turn to Tita Becca, "What guy, Tita? I'm not seeing anyone."
"You're not? But I thought I saw you with that chinito last week."
"He's a friend, Tita. And we were with our other friends, like I told you when I asked for permission to go out."
Tito Tim gives me another sharp look, but says nothing. Tita Becca just laughs my answer off and starts with her ever-familiar 'kids these days' lecture, saying that I should be careful when I go out, and that I should always be responsible.
Tita Becca was probably talking about Kirk, my schoolmate and a friend of Sarah's. The girls and I were out window-shopping when we ran into Kirk and his friends. Sarah invited them to join us for lunch, so the two groups ended up spending the rest of the afternoon together. Kirk had conveniently pulled me aside for a moment and asked me if I wanted to go hang out again sometime. Just the two of us.
Kirk is a nice, good-looking guy and all, but I had to turn him down. Not that it stopped him from asking me out again. I really don't have the time to think about getting a boyfriend, with arnis training and all. Besides, New Hope Academy rumors claim that Alexa Zamora is already seeing this college guy, and speculations like that actually make things a little easier for me when it came to making up excuses to my friends. Whenever I have to bail on something because I have training, they just automatically assume that I'm going out with College Guy. Not that I've ever really confirmed anything.
Tito Tim takes a sip of his iced tea and says, "We know you're a responsible one, Alexa, and your Tita and I do trust you. But you will tell us when some boy enters the picture, right? I mean, we're not going to meddle. We just want to, you know, know."
"Oh, lighten up, Tim," Tita Becca laughs. Then she smiles and places a hand on my elbow. "I'm sure that we don't have to worry. Besides, Alexa always tells us everything anyway. Don't you, dear?"
I turn away from my aunt's earnest eyes and instead seek Tito Tim's. He meets my gaze with a softened one, his tough, overprotective fatherly stance all gone. Tita Becca's words sting because they hold so much trust in them. She doesn't know what really happened back in Cavite. She doesn't know about the mask I desperately wear now.
Tito Tim doesn't know everything, but he knows enough. Enough to understand.
"Of course, Tita," I say, forcing a smile. "Of course I do."
Even though I don't. And I can never do.