“Wait, Freesia!”

My eyes widen when I hear Rico calling me from the inside. When I was still contemplating whether I should leave or answer him, the door already cracks open. My eyes meet his pleading gaze.

“What?” I asked, nearly stammered.

He licks his lips, so they redden. “Can we . . . talk?”

“About what?”

If it's about my behavior yesterday, I think I'm still not ready for a conversation. I would rather run away than face his questions. His chest heaves. Then, he lets out a deep sigh. As he stares at me with intimidating intensity, he moves closer.

“Do you harbor resentment against me? Did I do something wrong that may have offended you?”

Stunned, my breathing paces a little faster. I swallow the lump on my throat. My eyes, as they pierce at him with ferocity, starts to be clouded by shallow tears.

“Don't you remember what you have said years ago?!”

“What? When was that?”

I look away and attempt to wipe the line tear tracing on my cheek. “First year in highschool. Art contest.”

He halts for a while, eyes are empty. It's like he is trying to remember and the memories are flashing right in front of him. My breathing hitched.

“I know that you're different from what you were in the past. But did you know that the sharp words you have said to me carved in my mind? That it is still one of the heavy baggages that I carry everyday? I was so hurt because it was you who said those words while you were my motivation back then!”

I push his chest. I don't like the feeling of being trapped. I feel how he weakened just by the contact of my palm to his body. Seas of regrets are painted in his bloodshot eyes.

“I'm sorry. I terribly am. I know, it's already too late. I'm also not justifying my actions because even the reasons I remember why I did that to you are just self-centered,” he whispers.

I halt. Throughout the years, I only focused on my anger but never did I think of his side too. I know that it's wrong to nurture such emotion that is negative so maybe, if I could possibly know why he said those words, maybe there would also be a closure to how I feel. I'm already tired of hating the world. I can somehow lessen the burden I feel, right?

My stare flew back at Rico. He's just intently looking at me, As if I will disappear if he'd look away. I clear my throat. “Why did you say those words anyway? Why did you discourage me to join the contest?”

He bit his lips and exhaled, as if he is struggling to speak. “I was competitive and academically pressured. You were carefree and highly spirited, you still are, and you needed no effort to excel. Your academic performance was effortless, while I was trying really hard to maintain my grades.”

“Then you should have told me. Honestly, I really did not care about being on the pinnacle of– what do you call that? The top students? You know I would gladly let you replace my place.”

Rico's eyes narrowed. His face is painted with curiosity. “Why would you do that? And how would I know?”

“I had a huge crush on you,” I said.

I bit my lower lip and look away. It feels awkward to the point that I already want to stomp my feet in frustration.

Rico smiled. “Really?”

My eyes squinted. “So you were jealous of me that's why you did that just so you could eliminate me because you knew that arts was my weakness?”

He nodded. “Yes, and I'm ashamed to admit it. I can understand if you're really angry and you don't want to deal with me anymore.”

“I . . . actually don't know,” I admit.

He nodded. “But you really did have a crush on me?” he asked, smirking.

What the heck?!

“Stop, you jerk!”

And with that, I pushed him away. Shockingly, he did not stop me from escaping. As I will step down the staircase, some of Rico's classmates are already arriving. I look back and saw him still looking at me.

When the day ends, I cannot lie though that my chest feels lighter now, like something heavy and dark was eliminated. It makes me anticipate for new beginning.

When the universe is not in favoured with you, things would really mess up. It is very frustrating to think how they tend to not work the way you want them to be. I could not move mountains just to make things I want be easily attainable to the hand.

It's Friday. It means that we only have two subjects for today – PE for morning and TLE in the afternoon.

Seniors said that it's because physical activities are for the rising sun. Creative moments are for the drowsy winds of sunset. I'm not sure if it's true, though. Even in the wee hours of the night, I can sew.

We are currently in the TLE room. It's a separate classroom full of students' crafts and other creative outputs made by hand.

I peak through the window pane. The two buildings are done. The class is back to the usual schedule. It's been a month. I just realize that we're halfway to graduation. I still have no plans about the course I want to take in college.

Since graduation is near, we focus more on the active participation outputs rather than written works. Since all sections have the same schedule during Fridays, teachers tend to mix us up with other sections. It just depends on which teacher is teaching and which sections have lessons to be taken at the same time.

Unlike Miss Reyes, the teacher at our second subject is less strict. I like it here, the atmosphere and decorations are screaming a pure laid-back vibe. Underneath the wooden desk is a blanket finely folded in rectangular form. There are plastered stitches on the walls which I believe are ours. I searched for my case and remembered that I had it escaped on my way home. That mere activity led me to what I really love to do the most -knitting.

The door opened. Its creak on the floor and the narrowed eyes of Mrs. Lauchenco greeted us but that’s not what I testified in the seat.

I was dumbfounded for a second when behind our teacher were the students from the first section. My sight flies to the familiar guy whose eyes are roaming around the room.