By Juls
Am I too young to not listen?
Last Friday, I stayed in school to finish some student government paperwork. This was nothing new—apart from our ER duty, my extra curricular also kept me busy after regular classes.
I caught my reflection in a glass door, noticing the bags under my eyes. A part of me takes pride in them.
They signify that I’ve been working hard, and that I’ve been helping Mama lose some of hers.
But really, another part of me wishes they weren’t there at all.
“Baka ‘di ka na makapag-asawa niyan!” Mama would tease. I wonder if I did only focus on getting my MD, would she be happy?
Ewan. Ayoko na isipin.
Anyway, when I left campus, I hurried to my usual jeepney stop, only to find a drunk girl clinging to a lamp post for balance.
I just knew it: she was the type whom Mama would scrunch her face at in disapproval. Then, I recognized who she was.
Bea.
She’s that argumentative girl in one of my GED classes who openly debated anyone who had a different opinion during recitation. And yet, she was someone who didn't seem grade conscious. After all, it takes a lot of guts to be as carefree as her. Must be nice.
“Hoy!” She blurted out, which made me jump a little. I pretended not to notice, but she frantically crippled closer to me. “Juls!”
I blinked at her, not knowing what to say.
“Parang others naman ‘to oh! Kaklase kita sa Rizal!” Her words slurred like a convenience store slushie, yet she offered me the confident smile I noticed she typically wore.
“Kilala kita,” I nod, giving in to her initiation. “Lasing ka na, te!”
“Hindi kaya! Nakakalakad pa naman ako… yata.”
She tried to demonstrate her sobriety—only to almost trip on her other foot. She desperately clutched my arm. It made me feel… odd.
We got stares from passing people, and a wave of concern hit me. It’s pretty late. It’s no longer safe to leave her here. “Let me accompany you home.”
Despite her protests, she gave me her address. I ended up helping her up onto the jeepney, listening to her ramble—about the party, new friends, how she and I both deserved to have fun.
“Deserve natin?” I asked, confused how I became part of the clique she obviously belonged to.
“Of course.” She yawned. “Look, I’ve noticed.”
Suddenly, I felt the air get knocked out of my lungs, as if something had stopped working inside me. I realized that Bea had rested her head on my shoulder. “I think you should let go a little bit, Ms. Perfect.” She murmured.
I froze, my heart pounding—why? For what?!
After dropping her off, I rushed home, mentally scolding myself for getting caught up in someone else’s life. But the moment I stepped inside, I was met with Mama’s glare.
“Anong oras na?” Her voice was plain, yet sharp at the edges. Oh no. I look at the time. I’m already way past curfew.
“Baka mamaya lumalandi ka na, ah.”
I would usually just laugh it off, reassure her that I was just at school. But tonight, her comment stung harder than ever.
So what if I had been? What then, if I wanted to?!
I thought of my younger brother, barely in eighth grade, who already has a girlfriend and never got a word from Mama. How would she react if she knew that my heart just raced for someone—and worse, a girl?
The fear of disappointing her gripped my chest.
Despite my exhaustion, I could not sleep that night. Staring at my ceiling made me realize that I’ve been spending my whole life controlling everything, always wanting things to be perfect.
But what if Bea was right?
What if I should just let go?