15 Minutes

“Gitara tayo?!”, he whispered behind me.

I turned to look at him as he winked. I fought off a laugh.

“Tara!”, I said as I reached for my notebook where I kept records of chords and lyrics. I then followed him with his guitar through the door.

Our high school days are ordinary and follow a routine. I go to school at around 7 a.m., studying my notes as I walk through the pathway, and savour the few hours that I am alone. Then lunch. After an hour or so, he will arrive and oftentimes I imagined him looking for me. It’s always like that and fifteen minutes before our afternoon class, we leave the room to put something in our heads in the form of a lesson and at the same time clear our minds from too much thinking. Then class again. Then in the afternoon, we have 2 options: 1. to go home or 2. to stay a little bit and talk about nonsense stuffs. Generally, that’s how our days go. It’s boring if you look at it from the outside. And sometimes, I get bored too, but there are certain times of the day that I look forward to.

I can’t imagine that we’ve been here together for almost 3 years now, it just so long and yet too short. He transferred here when we were in 2^nd year, and I never knew him, though some of my classmates did, what with his good looks and mysterious aura. I remember one thing of him though at that time, it was when he courted one of my friends, she would have said yes, if he hadn’t stopped when were in 3^rd year. I don’t know too if I would ever be thankful of knowing him closer that what I should have.

I can even remember the first time we talked. It was one of those unusual days, that when one guy caught my attention. He’s singing and playing his guitar all alone, like a crazy folk anyone could guess, and to make matters interesting, he sits in one of our trash cans just outside our classroom. A very offensive act when just that morning our teacher warned us that any violator would be severely punished.

To break the silence, I come up to him and said, “Marunong ka pa lang mag-gitara?, how nice”.

He looked up at me. “Hindi masyado, nagpapaturo pa nga ako eh”, he admitted with a smile. 

Then I smiled. He’s kind of cute, though I’ve never noticed him in my 2^nd year before. He never says a word and yet he’s so full of music. He’s uncomfortable with us so I thought I should be making friends with him. I think he’s cool.

See, our everyday is highlighted with guitar breaks. It may be as short as 15 minutes or as long as there is time. These spontaneous breaks are what I look forward to the most. It is during these breaks that I can see him for what he really is and know what is all behind those jokes and witty remarks. It is during these that I got to know him, that I got to connect with him. And this is because of this, that I got to fall for him.

I guess, he thinks of me as somehow weird. Because whatever he asks, even out of nothing, I always tried to answer it. I may look funny in his eyes, but if it’s me that made me laugh even in that single moment, I’d gladly do it again and again. 

Besides, he never asks of things more than friends should talk. Even at times, when I know he wants to say something but can’t. He just opens his mouth and closed it again. I’m often left wondering what is it. He made me a mind-reader. He’s torpe.

We settled on the trash cans. It’s almost the end of the school term, so there are a lot of students roaming around but no one dared to go beside our classroom. It’s our meeting place, a secluded paradise that my classmates seemed to understand. 

I sneaked a glance at him as he strum the guitar with his favourite song, “thunder”. His face was crunched up and he was suddenly looking serious. He looks like that everytime he’s thinking about something or concentrating on getting something done. I spoke first.

“Are you watching Naruto? It’s a bit fun and the season’s ending must have been much unexpected”, I said testing the waters.

“Yep. I’m an avid fan of it. I actually bought a DVD just to watch it in advance”. He told me so nonchalantly as if, what I asked added to his bored state. 

He glanced at a girl who was passing by, wearing almost nothing. His eyes sparkle in amusement, as if he found something good to think of. He turned to me, and off course, I got rid of the expression in my face, there’s no way I’m gonna tell him I’m jealous. So, as if nothing happened, I glanced at the girl, looked at him straight in the eyes and give a nervous laugh. “ Hmmm….really? So what are you up to later?”

He hesitated a little too long and I wonder if he knows what’s behind my façade, that what I really meant to ask is if he ever thought of making me his girlfriend. “I’m not sure, I think I just wanted to watch each episode, then whatever goes”, he smiled, and then seeing the look on my face launched into a story about one of the many escapades he had with his grade school buddies.

I laughed. A million thoughts were running through my mind, although I didn’t want to think. I just want to savour every minute of this time with him, knowing that this wouldn’t last forever. I just wanted to be with him and talk with him about everything and nothing. But all I had was 15 minutes.

And I should know better than to ruin it with a stupid question.

Tomorrow then, if it will still come, I’ll tell him.

Happy Endings??!

PROLOGUE: THE CHOICE

GIEZLE THOUGHT SHE’S GONNA BURST. Saying YES was chicken; making the decision was easy; packing her things had been too easy; tiptoeing out of her room in the middle of the night while her parents is asleep just opposite her bedroom door was way easier; but leaving the farewell note in the fridge’s door is one thing she hesitates to do.

She looks around the kitchen taking in her surroundings: the familiar leafy wallpaper, the dimly-lit ambience, her favorite waist-high stool, the smell of chocolates and her mother’s pizza special.

She grip the counter’s edge forcefully, nausea coming to her senses. It’s like watching her life unfold like a movie--the slideshows of her life, the worst, the best, everything:

She remembers all too well her childhood years: she and her twin sister Reizle chasing all around the house, bouncing, budging and clawing at each other; the sound of her mother’s mock chagrin and laughter and her father’s deep resonating voice warning them to stop.

Gie grabs the only picture frame in the room that’s most significant to her. Rei’s bouncing blonde curls that framed her heart-shaped face, her light azurean eyes full of innocence and life looked back at her. They look alike; of course they’re identical twins, except their north and south attitudes. Gie’s always been associated by menace and mischief, Rei on the other hand, was the more cautious, the thinker as what all the people who knew them said. Gie also has her father’s pool of black eyes, a characteristic that’s been too rare for a blonde.

She thought back about their first day in grade school, when they stand side by side facing bullies. The endless giggles that followed their own crush’s revelations. The gossip they shared and made. Their game of fooling everyone else to think Rei is Gie or Gie is Rei. They’re afternoon walks and moonlight hours in the beach. They’re late night snacks and movies. Rei’s death……

Gie blames herself so much. Rei had been adamant about not going to the zoo that day, Gie on the other hand was too stubborn not to go. At the end, their mother consented to Gie’s wishes, she drop them in the zoo’s gate since they’re 10-year-old-girls, capable enough to call the police or to go home by themselves. Suddenly, Gie saw a lost puppy in the middle of the road, without thinking and without looking, she crossed the street and carried the puppy in her hands. She even had the time to look back to Rei who push her to the other side of the road. The next thing Gie saw was the bloody face of Rei smiling back at her. She remained frozen to the ground while people surrounded her dying sister. She felt hopeless and deserted as they put Rei in the stretcher, her lifeless form vanishing away from her. The ambulance was too late…, that day Rei died and so was Gie.

Gie shook her head and fought back the tears that are threatening to make her breakdown. It’s not the time to reminisce her past, it’s the time to make her future come true. She has to go. She has to leave everything behind; her childhood, her sister, her family, her life---well, she’s going to give them up just to be with the one she loves.

“Gosh…, mom.., dad.., Rei…………….., I’m so sorry, sorry!, I really have to do this. You won’t understand what I have found now, and I’m not going to let it go”.

With trembling hands, she silently put the magnet back in place, by sealing it, she sealed her fate. She prayed and hoped that someday, her family will understand what she needs to do for now.

She takes a deep calming breath and steps out in the road. She didn’t look back at her home. She doesn’t want the sight of it, she doesn’t want it to make her stop and go home. Even though it killed her to left them, she must risk everything if it means finding her true love.

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Prologue

It was a perfect day and I’m buzzing with excitement to see the different places dad had promised us. It was one of our family traditions to go on vacation once a year and this time it is in Europe, Paris, France. Oh yeah, nothing can get better than this. I look at the clock hoping we wouldn’t miss the tour bus, it will leave at 9 am, and still my mom is in the shower at 8.

“Mom, could you at least forget to be late just this once, were gonna miss the bus, and I will never forgive you for that”, I said tapping my feet impatiently at the doorway. 

“In a minute, hon”, my mom said from the shower. The splash of water and the scent of her favorite shampoo escalating in the air, clearly indicating, that it won’t be in a minute.

“Ashley, it’s ok. The sight will never go, if the bus leave, so be it, we can rent a car, and you could go wherever you want”, my dad said from peeking away from his newspaper and giving me a knowing smile.

“Nope, just this once, I want to experience the luxury of being a tourist”, I said a –matter-of-factly. In fact I was the one who insisted we should ride a tourist bus, I often see it in ads and it get the best out of me. Besides, my friends always said, that no matter where you are, no one could make you feel the place better other than someone, who know it well- there it is- a tour guide.

“Aren’t going to another land, becoming a tourist?!” my younger brother said as if he just stated something written in the book of who-knows-what.

I turned to look at my brother lounging in the couch like he had all the time in the world. He has a remarkable translucent blue eyes and blonde hair, very well-like mom, a set of to-be-fine jaws and fine nose, except for his lips that’s contorted in a sneer. I ignored him instead, knowing that I could never reason with someone unreasonable.

After forty minutes of waiting, my gorgeous mom appeared at last. She has translucent-blue eyes and shoulder-length blonde hair with a hint of gray. With her slim figure, she could have been mistaken as my sister, of course no one would miss that this woman is overly concerned with fashion. She wears a yellow ruffled blouse and shorts just above her knee. Completing the look are here sunglasses, straw hat, and yellow stilettos. While I on the other hand donned my favorite jeans and a white t-shirt with the words “I love Paris”, very ordinary compared to my mom’s flamboyant display.

“Bonjour! Welcome to Paris Tourist Guide. I am your tour guide Madeleine Belle. Thank you for choosing us to serve you while you’re here in Paris. We will make your vacation worthwhile, first stop is to,..”

Madeleine’s English with French accent turned to be awkward in my ears, but I guess I’m not the only one, because some look at here blankly, well, maybe they’re admiring such a beautiful woman. But I believe, it’s a tour guide’s requirement to be attractive in the first place.

She continued talking, but her words are lost to me as I watch the passing views in the window. Paris is truly a world-class city, not only is it the city of romance, but a city rich in culture, architecture and food. I would really like to see the Louvre, from what I’ve come up in the internet, all kinds of arts are there, paintings of great painters and artist, ancient things and so on. Luckily, it is our first stop, therefore, I would be actively listening to the tour guide, even if her flattering smile and flirty looks bored me.

“I don’t really think Louvre’s director is a member of , of, what’s it called?, Albie asked looking sideways at me.

“Priory of Sion. And for everyone’s sake, it’s just a book, and well a movie, get a grip on yourself,” I chided, laughing at how he takes things too seriously, yet constantly makes my life a joke.

“But why would Dan Brown said he’s saying the truth, and it was base on research and files,’ he argues back.

“Well, it might be a way to sell his book you know, people sometimes believed when someone said it’s true, just by putting so-called facts”, I added bored with the cycle of conversation it always takes us when we argued about books.

“Well, yeah I get that, but why would people read it, in fact every one I know had seen the movie and purchased the book, even if the church publicly announced to banned it,” he said, nibbling his thumb, a mannerism he got from dad.

“Stop it, you’re gross!” when he smiled crookedly at me I continued, “All right, I don’t know, I’m not your personal encyclopedia ok, but I think when something is keep from people, it tends to create the opposite, they may claimed they hadn’t read it, but due to curiosity, they read it in secret,” I said with an air of being uninterested hoping this so-called-debate will end, I don’t want to be in a bad mood, especially today, when I’m at my dream place. If only I could get rid with him.

“Whoa, look at that”, my brother gushed silently. But I still hear him, since he sit beside me, he won’t really let go of heated conversations no matter where we are, wait, he blushed? no way. I look at him and then look at where he’s looking. Opposite our sit, a pretty girl is unconsciously laughing with her friends. She looks like a princess in her chiffon dress (right, under the summer heat), with big brown eyes and auburn curls framing her face.

 Her friends raise an eyebrow at my brother’s direction and the princess suddenly looks at us. She’s even more beautiful with the sun shining in her face; it makes her look angelic and celestial. 

“Hi,” she said smiling.

I turned back to my brother and nudged him lightly. “Cat got your tongue boy?” I asked him teasingly. He seemed to recovered and muttered hello back at her. My brother leaned toward her and they set of from introductions to animate talking, completely forgetting who they’re talking earlier. I look back at the window, I’m not the kind who’s too nosy, Albie is 14, and he’s old enough to have his own privacy.

I notice we are now in the rural side of the city, which is full of forest and other greenery. I look at the front, trying to decipher where were going, though that seems to be impossible since I haven’t visited Paris until today.

Someone shouted that the steering wheel or something is not working and the driver hadn’t any control on the bus anymore. The people panicked, some started crying and screaming. My brother and I hugged each other, our parents at the seat in front of us look at us with terror. The bus then swerved on the opposite lane, just a 100 meter away from the curve. In a minute, I saw the 10-wheeler truck coming straight to us. The people started screaming. My mind and body seemed to have forgotten their functions, and I stared numbly while the giant thing is gonna smash us all. For the very first time in my life, I was scared.

My head aches when I regained semi-consciousness, someone is kneeling beside me, smoothening my hair and whispering over and over again, that I will be all right, everything will be all right. His hands are soft and strong at the same time. The stranger’s voice has its smoothing effect, calming and relaxing my senses, somehow, I heard that voice before. I turned to look at the road and watched in horror, the tour bus I’m seated with my family earlier is now a crumpled metal toppled upside-down. My vision blurs, but before darkness succumbed me, I saw my guardian angel’s face, looking down on me.