Their Days of Nights

55 : Smarter

February 2013

Kimberly

Wearing long sleeves was a good idea hours ago because we're going to the movies. But it's the opposite now that beads of sweat are forming on my neck and forehead. They're either from walking down or from the anxiety that I'm trying my best to deny having. I tap my hanky on and dry them.

Benjie must be near already, and I'm too lazy to go back upstairs and change. We should be at the mall at least forty-five minutes before showtime and changing my clothes will take up a bit of that. I slump on the bench by the staircase and wait for the silver Vios to park on the driveway.

I walk out of the door as soon as the car's there. I don't wait for him to get out and just approach the passenger side.

He adjusts the volume of the music as I settle down.

"Hey." He leans closer and gives me a quick peck on my cheek.

He's the same casual guy this Saturday night. A t-shirt under a black hoodie jacket, jeans, and sneakers. The fresh smell combination of mint, woods, and dew. And a smile on his lips that brighten up the sparks in his eyes.

"I'm late."

My plan was to tell him after we watch the movie, but sometimes, my stupid mouth takes over my brain.

"For what?" he casually asks. Of course, he wouldn't initially get it.

"I mean..." I lean back on the seat and sigh. "My period's late."

"Oh." From the corner of my eye, I see him drop his hands on his lap. Then he kills the engine and turns off the stereo. "Are you sure?"

"I know how to count and use the calendar, Benjie."

"Sorry. I didn't mean to..."

I stare ahead outside. The building's security guard—whose name I now know is Ronnie—is smoking by the corner of the closed window of the pawnshop.

I tug on the hem of my shirt as I wait for Benjie to say something else.

"You're pregnant?"

His reaction doesn't surprise me. I even expect him to be this composed. No hints of worry, horror, disgust, nor uncertainty. It's like he's not taken by any amount of surprise that his girlfriend just dropped what could be a life-altering bomb.

I look back toward the windshield and close my eyes. "I don't know. No. Yes." I sigh and open them again. "Maybe. I don't know."

"Okay," he says, unbuckling his seat belt. "Change of plans. The movie can wait. Let's find out if you are or not."

It dawned on me two days ago, but I didn't have the courage, then, to face how it would turn out by myself, so I didn't check.

I nod. "Can I have a few minutes to...?"

He nods.

So, we silently stay in the car for a while, with only the sounds of my sighs and the uneasy air around us.

There's a drugstore next to the Jollibee at the corner of the next block. I line up to buy those kits while Benjie takes care of the food.

Then we walk back to the building.

I wish I can come up with anything to divert both our attentions to something else just to cancel out the uncomfortable silence between us. But my mind blacks out.

His grip on my hand is noticeably different as well. He's holding me like I'm made of pristine but fragile glass.

I'm too whatever to process how I'm going to take that in.