“You’re invading my bubble, Garcia, this isn’t part of the contract,” Marlon says in a sing-song voice.
A hard nudge to his ribs is all he gets for a reply. The train begins its venture, and I sit back, trying my hardest not to press myself up against him any further. It’s a little hard, though. Commuters really have no shame when trying to fit on the train,and soon a businessman in the aisle beside me has his briefcase pressed against my arm. I shift uncomfortably toward Marlon.
“So…tell me about your boyfriend,” he says, after a moment.
My cheeks heat as Rafayel’s face crosses my vision.
How much should I tell Marlon? I just know he’s going to laugh at me once he finds out that Rafayel is a ‘love-at-first-sight’ tale, and ultimately just a stranger I’ve only really spoken to three times. Yet, if he’s going to help me out with Rafayel, he is going to need all the details, right?
“First, don’t say boyfriend. We don’t know if it’ll get to that point yet,” I say, mostly because my own delusions were high enough without adding Marlon’s commentary to the mix, “But anyways, he’s this worker at a bookstore. I met him…a week ago.”
My voice falters on the last few words, and I can sense Marlon waiting for me to continue. When I don’t, he releases an exasperated sigh.
“Is that it?”
“Well, we’ve spoken three times.”
Marlon throws his hands up.
“You’ve given me a lot to work with Garcia. It would help if you were friends with this person already, I could analyse the way he texts you, but now…”
I quash down the queasiness that rises in my chest. Marlon’s words were just confirming my own insecurities over how ridiculous it is that I’m pining over a stranger. I’m well aware about it, yet what’s life without living with a little hope? In my situation, to be living a littlehopelessly.
“Are you saying that this will be a hard challenge for you Marlon? You’ve never been one to back down from anything,” I tease.
In all my years I’ve known Marlon, which is practically my entire life, I’d come to learn he’s not one to admit defeat.Whenever he’s presented with anything remotely challenging, he’s determined to prove that it’s nothing to him. Everytime I beat him in Mario Kart back when we used to play as kids, he’d always insist on playing more rounds until he came out on top. He never did.
Just as expected, Marlon’s jaw tenses the slightest. A tick in his behaviour that only I can pick up on.
“I’m not saying it’ll be hard, Garcia,” he says my name as though he’s sharpening it, and I resist the urge to smirk with satisfaction. I love how easy it is to get under his skin, “But you’ve just put way more work than I expected. Whatever. When can I meet him?”
Marlon meeting Rafayel? God - that’s an image I never want to see.Ever.
So I tell him, “Not for a long time.”
He gasps, scandalised.
“I’m sorry but the rules state that I must help you out with your love life, and this is me helping you out. I demand to meet him.”
I shake my head, once, twice, and a couple more times after that to really drill into Marlon that undernocircumstances, will they be meeting anytime soon.
“Garcia,” he whines, and the sound of it is like nails on a chalkboard.
“Stop it,” I hiss, because now commuters around us are glancing over with a quiet frustration. I didn’t realise how loud we were. Marlon thankfully stops pushing it, but the cheeky smile on his face suggests he isn’t done.
That’s when I pinch at his arm, “But what about you. Tell me about how you’ve been going with Christine.”
At the mention of her name, Marlon’s body grows slightly rigid. Enough for me to notice.
“Maybe later. Another time when we aren’t all squashed together onto this carriage,” he says.
I could say something snarky over how he’s suddenly not in the mood to speak, yet I sense that when it comes to Christine, it seems to be a soft spot for him.
More than I realise. I let it go, not wanting to push it. But if our families and their ridiculous delusions had anything to do with their break up, it just made me all the more driven to set us both free.
Thirteen
The ambush of texts from my cousins come all at once as I’m eating lunch on Wednesday afternoon. I’m tempted to let all three of them in on the ruse, since they’re all like siblings to me. Yet, the rules flash before me, and I quash the urge instantly. I have to stay loyal, stay true to our agreement, no matter how much it bruises my ego. I reply to each of them, reacting with a giggle emoji to Kuya Peter, expressing enthusiasm to Kuya Joseph’s double date idea, and apologising to Stephanie for not letting her know.
