Their Days of Nights

39 : Happy

June 2011

Kimberly

It's raining when we step out of the office building, at six-thirty this Thursday morning. The sky is still dark, and the streetlights are still on.

Aya and I take our time walking along the watered sidewalks.

"Monsoon season has begun," she says when we stop at an intersection.

We go first to the Jollibee at the block nearest to ours.

I unfold my umbrella and shake off the rainwater as Aya goes inside. I follow her at the take-out lane. I nod at her while she gives our order to the crew girl behind the counter.

I'm not really hungry, but I want to get over this rainy morning. I just want to go to bed and sleep.

We eat our breakfast slash dinner in the common kitchen, while we wordlessly watch the rain and rain clouds cover the stretch of Main Avenue and the rest of this city.

"I can see it, you know," Aya says from out of nowhere.

"You can see what?"

She laughs. "That look on your face," she says in a duh tone.

I try my best to look and sound oblivious. "What look?"

"The look."

"I don't have a look. What are you talking about?"

She laughs once more. "You can play this game all you want, Kimberly. But I know you know what I'm talking about." She leans back on her chair and finishes her glass of pineapple juice.

And I continue watching the rainy city from the window like I'm doing so on a TV.

I leave Aya in our room to take a quick shower. We don't have hot water. So, I jump in, drench away this day as fast as I can, and jump back out.

I unwrap the towel in my hair and stare at my reflection in the mirror above the sink.

The look. Of course, I know what Aya means.

In the last two weeks, I've been hesitant to give it a name. But yes, I know, I can see it too. I do seem happy.

I am happy.

I can say it to myself now. Maybe I just never thought that I'd reach this point again. Or just this point, actually. This is different. This is more serious than before.

Exhibit A: we're no longer seventeen. Exhibit B: what happened in Lake City. Exhibit C: we're finally able to say how we feel.

I haven't been alone with him since that night at my cousin's wedding. We see each other, of course. But we meet in the most public of places. It's all good when we're together and even when we're not. But I can't help but think and feel that, again, I'm in this state of limbo.

Are we, or aren't we? Would we, or wouldn't we? We never formally talked about it.

I waited for him for years. So, it's not like I have a problem with taking things slowly. But my mind would wander back to when he has his hands all over me. And I'd feel this ache of longing for that again. There are more parts of me he hasn't touched.

There's a knock on the door, and I almost drop my toothbrush.

"Kim!"

It's Aya. "There's a package being delivered to you," she says from the hallway.

"Just receive it for me! I'll be out in a minute!"

"Okay!"

There's a white skinny rectangular box on my bed when I enter our room. I pick up the box of flowers. There's no note, and nothing is written on it. But of course, I know where it came from.