“Hey you lovebirds,” she coos, and Marlon, on cue, places his arm over my shoulders. Playing the part ever so perfectly. I don’t have time to linger on the way his hand feels when Tita Reg tells us, “The games are starting soon.”
I quirk my head in confusion, glancing to-and-fro between Marlon and Tita Regina.
“The games?”
I didn’t think that the Easter celebration would end up in having Marlon’s arms wrapped around my body.
Apparently, it’s a tradition for Marlon’s Tita Linda to host a series of games every family gathering, with some enticing prizes to coax everyone to join in.
For the younger children in the family, they get to play with bean bags and ring toss.
But for the young adults onwards, we’ve got to partake in games like theegg and spoon couple race.
Across the makeshift game field, Titos and Titas beside us were also encased in the embrace. At least they didn’t appear awkward. Marlon and I on the other hand…
“You’re leaning too close to me,” I whisper, pushing my elbow back against his ribs.
“Stop it, we need to be this close. You don’t want my family to be suspicious do you?”
Marlon’s breath is warm, tickling my ear and the nape of my neck. I resist the urge to shiver. To react physically in any way. The hands that hold the spoon and egg are already slick with nervous sweat. Marlon’s arms tighten around my stomach. Pulling me closer, so that my back is flat against his chest.
“Marlon and Jaslene, you are both so cute,” Tito James comments, glancing over at us with his own arms wrapped around his wife.
“Of course, Tito,” Marlon replies.
His breath tickles the back of my head, and while I tell myself that it’s just because I’m uncomfortable with how close he is, my heart begs to differ.
Badoom, badoom, badoom.
It’s furiously knocking, pounding against my chest and I want to tell her to stop, to not give us away, to calm down.
“Why is your heart racing, Garcia?”
Marlon’s lips brush against my ear. A whisper. I feel his smile against my skin.
“Because you’re annoying and you’re too close to me.”
“But it’s beating faster now.”
Shit. It is.
“Good, good, couples get closer. Back to chest,” Tita Regina explains.
She informs us that the egg and spoon race will require us to walk across the entire field, a good forty metres and back. All the while with our partner hugging us from behind, our footsteps in sync. It’s a ridiculous game, so silly, so unnecessary…
“The prize will be this $100 gift voucher to the movies.”
Tita Regina blows the whistle.
It breaks me from my little bubble and ignites a fire in me, consuming my skin. Everything blurs around me, and all I can see is the end of the trail. The prize will be mine.
Marlon and I take a step forward, in perfect unison. Then another. And another.
My fingers hold the spoon tight, and I watch the egg wobble back and forth, willing it to stay.
I hear a burst of laughter beside me. Tito James and Tita Bethany must’ve dropped their egg. Around us, Marlon’s relatives are clapping, as if this were a carnival.
“We’re doing well,” Marlon says, our legs moving forward successfully.
