"Oh no! I did it again. Silly Alek. Stupid, stupid Alek! I berated myself with a gentle slap to my forehead as I walked away from where Zara and Marina were seated. I had promised myself not to be too sweet to her to avoid any misunderstandings.
I noticed her blushing earlier; she truly looked adorable. Zara adorable. Lilo and Nani adorable. Not Nala and Simba adorable. I don't know how I let those thoughts slip out of my mouth, but I saw her eyes light up and her cheeks flush crimson. I realised I'd messed up. Again.
When I was thirteen, Marina, who was at the time eleven, surprised me with a bunch of hydrangea flowers—my absolute favourites. All part of her plan to confess her feelings for me. It took me completely by surprise; I had no prior inkling of what was about to happen.
My history with Marina dates back to when she was just eight years old. I vividly recall the day Zara brought her to the spot where I was sitting, seeking refuge from some girl who had been relentlessly mean to her. She appeared so fragile and timid—her head hung low. I, being slightly taller, slowly approached her, bending down to her level.
"Are you okay?" I gently asked, trying to reassure her.
She nodded, still avoiding eye contact.
"If you ever need anything or if she bothers you again, you can tell me. I'll look out for you, alright?"
I remember the moment she finally looked up at me, our eyes locking, and her face immediately lighting up. I assumed it was because of the protection I had offered, but no. Marina later confessed, after giving me the hydrangeas, that she had liked me from the very first day she laid eyes on me.
I was utterly speechless. I had always regarded her as a sister, someone I wanted to shield and support. All the gifts she brought me—Star Wars toys, Power Rangers—I hadn't read too much into. I assumed she was simply being kind and offering them to me because she had heard about my interests from Zara.
I convinced myself it was just a fleeting crush, something that would eventually fade away. Fast forward five years, and Marina's affectionate gaze hadn't wavered one bit. She still looked at me with that same intense warmth that eyes in love can't hide.
As for me, I saw her as a sister. A person I was determined to protect. It pained me to turn her down, but I couldn't deny the feelings in my heart, or lack thereof.
While making my way back to class, I couldn't help but notice Masha's lingering gaze from the window. It had only been six months since we'd become a couple. We shared a class and a lot of common interests. Just like me, Masha had no parents and moved to MayBay when she was just three to live with her aunt and uncle. Despite not being wealthy, her aunt showered her with love, ensuring she never lacked anything.
It was clear that Zara didn't exactly approve of our relationship, likely because she preferred me to be with her best friend. She never expressed her disapproval. I made an effort not to be overly affectionate with Masha when Marina was around, not wanting to cause her any pain. Marina was a sweet girl, and I cared about her deeply; I didn't want to see her upset.
I could tell she had learned about our relationship from the sadness that seemed to hang over her those days. She never tried to confront me or beg for me to break up with Masha; instead, she congratulated us with a warm smile and tried as much as possible to keep her distance. I knew she was hurting. It hurt me too, but I needed to make her understand that I only saw her as a little sister.
As I approached the classroom, Masha rushed towards me, her eyes brimming with curiosity. She gripped into my arms and bombarded me with questions about what had transpired earlier.
"What were you guys talking about? She asked with a loving tone.
"Nothing serious, just apologizing to Zara," I replied.
"No, I meant Marina." The subtle undercurrent of jealousy in her tone was hard to miss.
"Not much, just reminding her to pick up her glasses later."
"Doesn't she spend an awful lot of time at your place?"
"Come on, she's my sister's best friend. I can't just kick her out," I explained.
"You know she's not just visiting to see your sister." She pressed on, her words laden with implications.
I hesitated for a moment before responding, "That's not true. They spend most of the time talking in Zara's room. I don't always see her when she's around."
Lies.
I don't know how, but the secret of Marina's affection for me was spread all over the school. My friends took every opportunity to playfully tease me, referring to her as my "adorable wife from 10B." Whenever she walked by, their mischievous comments followed, turning ordinary moments into awkward encounters.
"Look, there goes your wife," they'd chime, nudging me playfully and winking conspiratorially.
Even Mr. Tantrum became privy to the situation. A rather unexpected turn of events led him to summon Marina and me to his office, where he embarked on a lengthy discourse about the dangers of young romance. Marina squirmed in her seat, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. I, on the other hand, attempted to alleviate the discomfort by injecting humor into the conversation. I assured Mr. Tantrum that Marina's affections were nothing more than baseless rumors, emphasizing that we were just good friends.
Masha had expressed her unease with my interactions with Marina. No matter how earnestly I tried to convince her that she held a place in my heart akin to a little sister, she still struggled to dispel her apprehensions.
"You know she still has feelings for you, right? Masha asserted.
"I don't think so."
Lies.
"She does," Masha persisted, her eyes searching mine. "Why else would she steal glances at you any chance she gets?"
With a gentle touch, I cupped Masha's face in my hands, gazing into her eyes. "Don't worry," I softly whispered. "I've made it abundantly clear to her that I see her as nothing more than a sister, okay?"
A tentative moment passed, and then she nodded. "Alright."
We made our way to class, and before I knew it, the lessons had flown by like a gust of wind. In a hurry, I rushed out, but not before planting a quick peck on Masha's cheek. Darting out of the classroom, I sprinted for the gate, my mind preoccupied with my destination.
Just as I was about to make my escape, a familiar voice called out my name, pulling me to a stop. It was Zane, one of my closest friends. We made an instant connection while playing at an amusement arcade.
Over time, we peeled back the layers of each other's lives, revealing our deepest dreams and aspirations. I discovered his immense passion for singing and dancing, along with his dream of becoming a renowned singer. His parents, however, held different aspirations, urging him to follow in his father's footsteps and take over the family business. They doubted that music could sustain him, but Zane's conviction was unshakeable, a quality I had never seen in anyone before.
"Where are you rushing off to?" Zane inquired.
"I have some errands to run."
"Want me to tag along?"
"No, it's alright. I replied while turning to the new student, who had been quietly listening. I extended my hand. "Nice to meet you again; I'm Alek. We crossed paths earlier."
"I remember," he responded. "I'm Kai."
"Do you live nearby? I asked, attempting to strike up a conversation.
"Yes, I do. I live in the building opposite yours."
Curiosity piqued, and I continued, "Where did you move here from?"
"He's from Port Ruma. A swimming champ this one." Zane chimed in, his eyes gleaming with admiration. I noticed Kai's cheeks flush with embarrassment at the unexpected praise.
"Would you consider joining our athletics team?" I suggested with a smile.
"Why would he join the athletics team? He is on his way to becoming the greatest swimmer of our time!" Zane chimed in.
"Oh, you swim?"
"Not anymore" he answered simply.
"Wait, what?" Zane asked, perplexed.
"I'd love to join the team!"
"That's great to hear. See you around," I said, bidding them farewell as I headed towards the bus that had just arrived.
*****
What went through your head when you were young? What made you worry? Was it game rankings or owning the latest shoes? Was it about relationships? Popularity? Often times, I wished those were the only concerns I had.
You know how they say you never know what you have until you walk in someone else's shoes? Well, that's precisely what I wished for—for my peers to step into my world and truly comprehend the weight of my concerns.
I wished Tito from 12B could step into my shoes. He constantly demanded more from his parents, shouting, "I want this" and "I want that." What I would have given to live with the little they provided.
I wished Brenda from 11A could experience life through my lens. Her obsession with being liked and her quest for popularity consumed her thoughts. She fretted over having the latest bag and being the prettiest. What I would have given for those to be my major worries.
I wished to see life from JD's perspective. I would not have to worry about whether I was enough. Do I really deserve you? Aren't you too good for me? He loved freely. How I wished I loved freely.
Zara was my world. Her well-being consumed my mind. During class, I'd think of her. Was she safe? Is she studying well? Could anyone be making fun of her? Was Mr. Tantrum being mean to her again? I would wake up in the middle of the night to ensure she was snugly tucked under her blanket. If I spotted a mosquito, I would stay up and make sure it was dead before I went back to sleep. Everything I did, I did for my sister. Little Zara. Oh, how I loved her. I love her.
I have vivid memories of playing pranks on her. She'd get so worked up, chasing me relentlessly around our neighborhood, even at school. Those moments brought me so much joy. I loved when she chased me. I sometimes wish we could play like we did when we were younger. However, as I look at her now, I don't see that little girl, I see a remarkable woman—driven and determined—chasing her dreams.
I frequently seize any chance to study her face, searching for any hints of sadness. I sensed that she carried a burden that weighed heavy on her heart, yet I couldn't discern it in her eyes. Was she just exceptionally skilled at concealing her emotions, or was I slowly losing my ability to recognize signs of her inner turmoil?
Zara never cried. When Mama passed away, she held back her tears, choosing to console me in my hysteria. When she broke her ankle, she never shed a tear. When Mr. Tantrum hurled insults at her, she remained composed. Even when Rex, our beloved cat, passed away, Zara held her tears in check.
But on that particular night, something broke inside her, and she cried like I had never seen before. It was a situation I had no prior experience handling. My first instinct was to reach out to Marina, but it was late at night. I attempted to comfort and cry alongside her, but my efforts seemed futile. Something changed in her that day.
Last year, I made a wish. I wished to never see Zara cry again and that her days would be filled with nothing but happiness. I wished she would find someone to make her as happy as I am.
My mother had asked me to look after her. To make sure she became a good person. An accomplished person. A happy person.
Have I done well, mama?