“If? A little faith would be nice.”
Ria waves her hand dismissively, “Sorry, sorry,when.”
Regardless, my cheeks heat involuntarily at the mere thought of having a boyfriend, having asomeone. Would it change? Was Ria right?
The brief moment of delusional euphoria crumples as soon as I remember something, a detail that quickly negates Ria’s theory.
A year ago, Marlon was actually dating someone, Christine, who he brought to two or three, maybe four family gatherings overall. She was this sweet Chinese-French girl who I’d only spoken to a few times. When Marlon first brought her around and introduced Christine to the family, the relief was tangible.
A weight lifted off my shoulders. I truly believed that this ridiculous ‘Marlon & Jaslene’ delusion of theirs was over. How wrong I was.
Sure, our families weren’t as verbally obvious about it anymore. They were nice to Christine’s face, welcoming her in. Yet, there were still whispers. Hushed jokes that they thought I wouldn’t pick up on.
‘I wonder how Jaslene feels about this.’
‘Is Marlon very sure about this Christine?’
‘Who is this Christine anyway?’
Such whispers radiated like playground gossip. I actually felt bad for Christine. And for Marlon, a bit, too. They broke up sometime before the end of last year, because Marlon didn’t bring her around for Christmas.
So, no, I don’t think even having a boyfriend will stop the ridiculous matchmaking.
“You forget about Christine,” I remind Ria.
Her mouth opens, but no response comes out. She’s at a dead end for this one too. After a beat, she pops another spoonful of rice and chicken adobo into her mouth before declaring, “Okay, well, the only solution is to date and marry Marlon.”
It’s a joke, I know. Still, I choke on the noodles I’d just pushed into my mouth, causing me to cough violently.
Instead of helping me, Ria just bursts into laughter. I swallow the remnants of my food, narrowing my eyes at her.
“What’s so funny?”
The sound of my cousin Stephanie’s voice is an instant mood lifter. She strolls in, clad in denim overalls with her hair twisted into two space buns, and takes a seat beside me, so that I’m sandwiched between her and Ria. She places her plate of pork asado, rice and pancit canton atop her legs and I eye the steam that emanates from the dishes, stomach twitching. Maybe I should get more servings.
“Oh nothing,” Ria informs, “Just that Jaslene has a boyfriend.”
I pinch Ria’s elbow lightly and she yelps. It’s too late, the damage is done. Stephanie gasps, and her eyes brighten. She flicks my forearm and I flinch, jaw dropping.
“Hey!”
“Don’t tell me you got a boyfriend without consulting me,” she exclaims, jutting her bottom lip in a pout. I throw my hands in the air, exasperated. Where did this sudden ambush come from?
“I don’t have a boyfriend!”
In fact, I was very,veryfar from having a boyfriend. The last boy I had a crush on during my last year of high school, Ralph from history class, was an utter disaster to say the least. A bullet dodged, actually, as Ria puts it.
When I confessed my feelings for him in a letter, he actually told me he felt the same. At least, for three hours. That’s right. He told me he liked me back at the start of the school day, after I gave him the letter. Then, when the school bell rang to go home, he told me he realised he doesn’t actually like me. I’d never asked to move seats in class so fast.
“Well then,whenare you going to get one Ate Lene?” Stephanie asks, as if I’m not constantly asking myself the same question, “You and Kuya Marlon would really be so cut-”
I hold my finger up against her lips, shushing her immediately.
“Donotfinish that sentence. Not you Steph. You know that Marlon and I will never happen.E-v-er.”
I dig my teeth into my lips, emphasising thev.
“Besides, I don’t have time for one.”
