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(Disclosure: The following tales are based upon the lives of real people. To keep their identity safe, names will be altered, events will be modified, and actual places will be replaced. All characters are still alive somewhere around this world. They do deserve some privacy. All Rights Reserved)
Chapter I – Blue
Blue is the color of a cloudless summer when heat invites people to shed off fibers that cover their skin. She was barely 17, young and innocent. He was 21, almost an inveterate kid in the skills of subtle attraction. Their rendezvous took place in an old aula of behind the Oblation Plaza of the University of the Philippines, a historic building where intellectual footprints and radical souls left their grimes on walls. Summer in Manila was more exciting for those who have, though extremely boring for students who depended on their parent’s charity. So instead of staying home doing nothing, most of them go to summer school to at least see and do something. There are those who do so for being bad students. And there are those who do so for being excellent students, over achievers in their field, wanting to get ahead of a required time.
Paulo had to finish his Science requirements before going for a scholarship in Rome. And Goyang decided to change her major before entering Medical School. It was the first day of a class in Physiology, the venue were anatomy meets its function and design reconciles with purpose. Since Paulo likes to dress his best, he spent half a morning in his father’s closet. He arrived quite late. Fortunately the professor was not there yet, but the room was almost filled. There were only two vacant seats left: one against the classroom’s left wall and another right beside Goyang’s left side. Knowing Paulo, his common sense opted for his preferred site, beside the halo of a young girl. His tongue itched to flirt but she was nonchalant, sketching images on a pad while waiting for the professor to arrive.
“You draw well”, Paulo whispered. Furtively, she looked at him from the corner of her left eye.
“Listen, and stop talking”, she softly said. “The Professor is looking at us”.
“So what, your art work, as pretty as you are, is more interesting than the function of a kidney”, Paulo responded back. Sarah folded her sketch pad, kept it away and ignored Kellman’s petty advances. The class lecture moved on.
The bell rung. The period was over. Paulo had to do something quick before this summer class expires. He evidently wanted to learn more about the talents behind the artist who wanted to be a Physician. He groped for thoughts, grabbed some images, but ended up groaning with nothing.
“Can I walk you wherever you are going? My name is Paulo, by the way. What is yours?”
“My friends call me Goyang, but my legal name is Kassandra”.
“Goyang, Kassandra, they do rhyme. I will remember Goyang better. It is the same as my mom’s nickname.
Goyang smiled back, stood up and walked out of the aula. Paulo followed like a shadow. Soon they were out of the building, strolled through a long pathway and stopped right in front of that naked statue where the bus stops. She was going to Sta. Mesa. He lived somewhere in Cubao.
They had Physiology from Monday through Friday and Paulo stayed with Goyang while she waited for her ride. They had another class in common, taught by the same Professor, but in a different time slot. Paulo, who was running out of strategies, decided to offer her his notes, and even provided her with the test questions he took before her own scheduled exams.
One day, while they were walking, Paulo stared at Goyang, enjoyed the sweetness of her smile, the beauty of her profile and the innocence of her ways. She felt conscious. “Stop staring at me”, she said. “Okay, then I must take your hand before we cross the road”, he responded. “A gentleman has to protect a lady from any pending danger.” “What danger”, she responded back. “Cars are not allowed here.” Paulo pretended not to hear. “No vehicle can hit us”, he impishly grinned. And then he took her hand. She did not resist. It was at that moment when he recalled the mechanisms of the nervous system, the hormonal entrapments and the excitement of a female touch. Right at that instant, he knew there was a spark, a corny cliché, but a spark nonetheless. Paulo was broke. He could not commit to the possibility of a date that might affect his allowance. There was no way for him to walk from U.P. to Cubao. Upon arriving at the bus stop, before Paulo let go of her hand, Goyang asked, “Can I invite you to our Church this Sunday? Come here at around 1:00 and we will go there together. It is around 15 minutes away from here.” “Of course”, Paulo accepted. It was a date after all, anything that opened a window for him to be with her. He spent days bringing Goyang to the bus stop and nights giddily waiting for Sunday to arrive.
Sunday arrived. Paulo borrowed another long sleeved business shirt from his dad. Although the heat exceeded more than ninety degrees, he still had to dress his best. He was an hour early, melting like jelly. Her bus finally arrived. Goyang descended, prim and lovely as a rose that was rare in the streets of Manila. Paulo offered his hand again and the two walked until they sat beside a cramped tricycle. With Goyang this close, he would not mind being with her the whole day. He was classically euphoric. Once in a while, she glanced at him with perhaps the same attraction that Paulo could only imagine. The day was too short. The Service was over and he had to bring her back to the same bus stop. He had nothing in his pockets except for a hand that stretched out to hers.
“Thank you, Goyang said”, as she slowly climbed the bus. Paulo stood and waved his hands, half giddy, half sad, and a total dummy. He wanted to do more, ask for more, go somewhere else, but he utterly failed. And his windows are closing.
A week or two after the last day of summer classes, the phone rang. “Kuya, get the phone. It is Goyang”, Paulo’s youngest brother shouted. Paulo was not listening because he was busy writing for the school paper. He thought he heard Clara, his staff member. “Hey, what do you want? I thought I already explained to you that you have to change your article”. “Huh, this is Goyang”….silence… and then click. Paulo realized what happened. He called back. The tone was busy. Summer was over.