HIP #3: Forgetting The Old Us

Chapter 21

"So, how long have you been friends with her?" I asked.

"As I said, since childhood," I nodded. Darn, that question. Why did I even ask him that? I already heard him say they were friends since they were kids. I guess I was just speechless.

The only thing that prevailed between us was the laughter we both gave out after what he said. I couldn't help but just laugh at myself for being stupid that I ended up embarrassing myself.

"How many have you taken?" I broke our giggles.

"Like seven," I rose my eyebrows, not able to believe what I heard. Seven cups and he was able to talk like that as if he was only drinking water.

"What?" It came along with a slight laugh.

"Umm, seven," he repeated like he didn't get what I meant.

"No, I mean are you serious?" I asked again.

"Ah... yeah, why?" And he asked me why? Well, it was obvious I was shocked.

"Woah," That was all I could say.

"What?" He took another sip.

"Well, you don't seem drunk at all."

"I don't get drunk easily. And if I do, I'm still conscious of what I'm saying or doing." It was pretty evident by the way he quickly finished the one he was drinking from the red cup he held. His Adam's apple moved as he gulped it. It was like he was just drinking pure water. The way he effortlessly drank it.

"Wow," I reacted watching him take another sip after a girl that passed by wearing a pink swimsuit just filled his cup for the third time I saw it around.

"You said your freshly graduated, right?"

"Umm, yeah. Why?" I asked myself why the heck did he even have to ask me 'why' all the time I would have asked him about something for confirmation. Like he needed to know every story behind my questions for him. "Nothing. I just wondered what your major is."

He pressed his lips covered with alcohol. "Guess what it is," he joked before taking another sip. I lost track of how many sips did he take over and over again and the refills he got from the bartenders passing by. He drank, but I was the one who felt tipsy.

"Well, you look like a dentistry or a doctoral student," I don't know where I got that answer. But I said what was on the tip of my tongue so it wouldn't take me too long to respond. I didn't want to make him wait.

"That takes more than five years to study, I graduated after four years of college." There goes another sip.

"Oh, then probably law?" I scratched the back of my neck and gritted my teeth. The annoyance was killing me. I was so stupid with all those answers I gave.

"That's actually taken for six years as the shortest." I used to be a smart person. But around him, I was a fool.

"Oh, well Engineering?" Another unsure answer from me.

"I hate Math, to be honest." I knew he did.

"Ah, Creative Writing?" I just based it by myself thinking we had the same college major interest.

"I love that but it's a no." I wanted to roll my eyes and just leave for all the embarrassment I got after getting everything all wrong but I didn't want to be rude either.

"Teaching?" I think I already said every single major that can be said.

"You got it, though it was too long." Finally, I got it right.

"Oh, so you're a teacher or what?" I didn't want the conversation to flop or to lead to nothing but silence so I came up with another question to make more noise.

"I haven't taken the licensing exams. Maybe next month. That's what I'm preparing for right now." I nodded.

"Wow. If ever you would pass, what subject do you want to teach or what grade level?"

"I like teaching middle schoolers. They're very close to my heart and I think I would like to teach Literature or History since those two are the easiest ones." It came with a giggle before he did the thing he has been doing earlier over and over, drinking alcohol like it was water.

"I agree. I was once a middle schooler so I know that they're the easiest subjects." He nodded but didn't say a word next to that. And through that moment of peace, I realized he was so much older than me. I was a ninth-grader those days and he was a fresh graduate. Our age gap was so far from each other. But still, I wanted him to confirm it by himself.

"By the way, how old are you?" I broke the silence.

"I'm twenty-four." It was pain thinking how old he was. Because eighteen was far from twenty-four. At that time, I already had a crush on him because of the way he looked like. But it was only for his looks and nothing else. "Oh," I reacted and acted as if I thought of nothing.

That night, I realized I already like him because of his attractiveness. Well, he was attractive. To be honest, there were a lot of girls approaching him that night but he didn't entertain any of them because he was busy chatting with me.

"Holy Moly." His eyes turned bigger. "What?" I asked. He didn't answer but I heard people running away and slightly laughing. So I turned around to check what was going on. Until I found out people were already saving themselves from the car with blue and red lights approaching us. Cops...

"Come on, let's go!" He immediately said and stood up we both began running. I wasn't good at running but I still tried my best to catch up with him who ran so fast like a cheetah. We reached the outer part of the beach and he threw the cup he was holding. "Why are we even running away? We're not underage and I didn't drink!" I screamed catching my breath because of running fast.

"I don't have my ID with me right now. They won't believe I'm twenty-four. And won't believe you didn't drink either." I got it. I knew what he meant. Cops usually don't believe people at parties. Especially us, the young ones. Because they think we know nothing and we always lie just because we're young. That's them: stereotyping