Not a Coincidence | Juan GDL

Chapter 8: Home

Note: Statements enclosed within parentheses are in a phone call.

***

(Hi, baby! I’m home!)

Juan shouted from the other end. Even if the caller I.D. was unknown, I perfectly recognized that voice. That deep, accented voice.

“Sabi ko kanina, magpakilala ka sa text. I can’t remember something about calling,” I jolted back and rolled my eyes. “At bakit mo ba ako tinatawag na baby? Hindi naman kita tatay ah.”

I stood up from the edge of my bed and picked up my books. I proceeded to the study table and pulled the chair.

(I don’t wanna text, baby. I wanna call.)

“Sira ulo ka, Juan. Stop calling me baby. I might just call you daddy,” I bit my lip, realizing how dirty it was.

(Okay, Belle. Call me daddy from now on.) He was laughing from the other end and I was so embarrassed.

“Kadiri kang GDL ka!” I exclaimed, putting a hand in my forehead. “Ibababa ko na’to.”

(Easy, Belle!) He was chuckling again.

“Anything more to say?”

We were silent for a minute and all I heard was his deep breathing and sighing. I was stopping myself to ask what was wrong but I realized it was the best option to stay quiet.

Juan was a very vocal person. I trusted my instincts that if he wanted to share his problems, he would willingly do it rather than being asked to open up.

I remembered what my Tatay said about comfort. According to him, it’s not necessary to speak and do a lot of talking just to point out that you are comforting a troubled friend.

Sometimes, it has to be rooted in silence – something that few people appreciate.

I have always followed that advice.

(I just want to feel home, Belle.) He softly whispered and I felt that something was really wrong.

I pursed my lips and continued to listen.

(The warm confines of being home, warm smiles of mom and dad, hugs, asking how was school…those shits, I wanna feel them at once.)

I stood up and laid my back on the bed. I stared at the ceiling, waiting for Juan to speak again. This was the first time I heard him with a weak voice. Normally, he was the all-smiling guy, always joking around, carefree of trouble.

This was a different Juan.

(Belle?)

“I’m here,” I whispered back immediately, holding my breath.

(Did I scare you?)

“What? Hindi, bakit naman ako matatakot?” I asked, confused of his question.

(I mean...you’re not used to hearing a dramatic Juan.) He was laughing.

That bothered me. I wanted to be there for Juan too. He just made it harder because he was so unpredictable. He could easily mask up any pain or problem by a smile and a laugh.

“Juan, I’ll always be here, please remember that,” I was no good with comforting words but I meant what I said.

(Thanks, Belle. Means a lot.)

I let out a smile upon hearing those words. At least Juan knew I was ready to lend a shoulder.

“Juan, yung jacket, ibalik mo ha?” I suddenly remembered the jacket.