Between the Lines | Oneshot

-3-

Just like that, P’Kit almost immediately became my confidante, someone I know I could trust to tell anything to.

It's been a few weeks and he still hasn't told anyone about my feelings for Yo. I was a little scared it will become a nasty rumor. I wouldn't mind, but it'll cause a lot of problems and anxiety to Wayo.

Don’t get me wrong. If you ask me who my bestfriend is, it’s still Yo. It's just that, ever since his relationship with P’Pha got better, I’m almost always out of the scene. I understand, though. It’s been past a year since he saw P’Pha, and only recently he was actually able to hold an actual verbal conversation with him.

In the topic of whether I’m actually succeeding in getting over Yo or not, but just keep thinking that I am. I’m talking about things regarding the matter objectively and positively, but it really is difficult to keep everything in.

It would’ve been a lot more difficult without P’Kit being there, even though, more often than not, I’d be reprimanded for “breaking my own heart”. 

I can’t help it—constantly thinking about Yo, and talking about him. He just pops out in my mind out of nowhere. I feel like I can associate him with anything you put in front of me for my eyes to see.

I also came to develop this little habit to stay in that park near his apartment every after I give him a ride home. The ride home with him came by pretty rare, since he already has another personal chauffer.

I’d just sit in the bench and keep convincing myself that I don’t like him anymore. Sometimes, even if just for a minute, it works. But I—we—have made way too many memories. They became the chains that drag me back to a well, drowning me in unwanted feelings all over again. But I do it, anyway … maybe someday it’ll work, for good.

“How about you, P’Kit …” Right now, t’s a little past seven in the evening. I just got home and immediately pressed to call his number.

I want to change the topic today. He might already be irritated that I keep talking about good times with Yo, and how bad I want to get over him.

P’Kit is giving me a whole lot of earful about how talking about him won’t help me. But I just wanted to … get used to the feeling of talking about him without hoping to have him, in hopes that getting myself habituated and desensitized to it will take the feelings away for real. 

“Do you like someone?”

I heard his phone drop. It sent an ugly sound to my ears that made me put it away for a brief moment.

“Ummm …" It was a long pause, until I heard a sigh from him. "I do.”

“Hoho. Who’s the lucky person?”

“What the fuck do you mean by lucky!” In the intensity of swearing he just uttered, and the sudden increase in volume, anyone is safe to assume that he blushing hard right now.

“I mean ... anyone who you like would be really lucky.”

He’s caring and kind. He’s brash and noisy, but he’s honest and sensitive. He knows how to sing and play the piano, too! Plus, he’ll be a doctor soon.

“That person must be really awesome.” I continued.

“Mmm … not so much(?) I think.”

“Oh?” The way he uptalked had made me curious. “What kind of person are we talking about here?”

“Tall. Smart. Cares a lot about other people. Good looking. Acts cool a lot. Smiles a lot, too.” He had hesitated for a moment, but defined the person he likes, anyway, even if vaguely. “Lonely most of the time. Doesn’t like me back.”

“How would you know that that person doesn't like you back?” I was trying to comfort him, even though I feel as though I’m not credible to the so, given my current state. “Did you confess?”

“How could I? All that person talks about is someone else.”

“That … is difficult.” I would know. I would know exactly how that feels. I can describe it in a lot of bad words and it's still not enough to say how that feels, holding yourself back with nothing you can do but to imply everything. “But I think the person you like is stupid to not like you back.”

Anyone would be super lucky to have P’Kit ... even if he's high maintainance. I heard him laugh softly over the phone.

“Yeah. I think so too.”

“When did you two meet?”

“Highschool.” His answers were short. Like he’s checking his words in every response, so as to not let his tongue slip. “But we’d only meet by the eye.”

“When did you start liki—”

“Why the fuck are you interrogating me?!”

“Oh? You did this to me, too.” I retorted. “I was just returning the favor. So when did you start liking that person?”

“I don’t know when it started.” His voice turned soft and hushed. “But I do know that I like that person.”

“We should make a one-sided love club!”

“No thanks. Fuck you, I don’t need the club name rubbing it in my face.”

I forced a chuckle out, trying to lighten up the mood.  His voice was getting more and more serious, and the topic of choice is not any good either.

“Ai’Mingkwan.” Whoops, here comes the scolding. “I’ll sleep. I have classes in the morning.”

“Oh. Okay.” He's not going to tell me off? What's next, zombie apocalypse?

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight, KitKat.”