Chad De Guzman is a 17-year-old Filipino guy living in the Philippines with his mother. He's the captain of a volleyball team in his school, and is a traveler. Though he's funny, quirky, go-with-the-flow guy, he's pretty emotional when it comes to h...
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I have so much to tell my friends about my date. My mind replays what happened between me and Isaiah yesterday, and my heart still races when I remember his kisses. It's as if I'm feeling his lips against mine when the image plays vividly in my head.
The way Isaiah caressed my skin lovingly, and his touches were gentle and making my heart skip a beat. This feels too surreal, and this story of us reminds me of the romance movies I used to watch with Max and Sophie. But this time, I'm the main character and Isaiah is my leading man.
After we got home last night, mom and Bill weren't still home. They arrived after an hour, and they asked us immediately what we've done during weekend. I remain silent and let Isaiah tell everything because, honestly, it's hard to lie in front of your mom. Isaiah only told them that we'd stay in the house and kept ourselves entertain. When Isaiah said entertain, he looked at me and a grin tugged on his lips that made me blush.
Honestly, now that the date is over, I can think freely now. We're sharing the same house, and Isaiah and I are boyfriends now! I can't believe it. Now, I have to face another problem and I don't think my mom or Bill is ready to hear it. For now, they can't know that their sons are dating each other. Damn it, that sounds incest, and I'm not up for it.
Isaiah and I have to discuss this because we need to have some sort of plan. I'm not ready for my mom to know this yet, and just by thinking about my mom makes me want to break up with Isaiah so we can continue our lives without some drama. Let's admit it, this is going to be such a huge mess once they know that we're in a relationship. And no, it's not because they're homophobic, but because we're supposed to be step-brothers.
I repeat: we're supposed to be step-brothers. Siblings.
Sighing as I let my head rest on the table, not having the appetite to eat my lunch, which is fries, a fillet, some salad that doesn't look good, and a small carton of milk. Just by looking at it is enough to make my mom cry. There has got to be a healthier lunch than this, like, hopefully, rice and some chicken. Well, they do serve chicken sometimes, but the taste is actually bland that I want to complain to the principal for letting the chef, or whoever cooked that stuff, be in charge on the kitchen.
In the Philippines, we have this called baon or savings, and sometimes, we bring lunch box so we can eat what our parents have cooked for the day. Canteens are required in schools, and they should serve rice meals. There are chips as well, but only a few. They only serve soups like arroz caldo, champorado, and sopas. Most of my savings got spent on champorado even though I was always bringing my lunch box. No one could blame me. It's my favorite.
Seeing this type of food is enough for any Asian to lose their appetite.
"Why the long face?" Dylan asks me as he takes a seat, already shoving fries in his mouth as he stares at me with a grin. "What'd you do this weekend? Any interesting that might have happened?"
