Love in All the Right Places (Chick Lit bundle) (31 page)

But it was a particularly bad duckface photo of mine that had us running out of breath from laughing too much. "Now this, is priceless," Jesse announced. Well, more like uttered the syllables in between desperate breaths. He started tapping on his phone, "This needs to be shared to the world."

My laughter was cut short when I realized what he was up to. "NOOOOOO!" I shrieked, pulling the phone from his grasp. He managed to lift it beyond my reach. I tried jumping for it, but he was substantially taller than I was.

I could see the photo being uploaded on Instagram already, increasing my panic. I tried to jump but I ended up losing my balance and slipping.

"Five!" he cried, putting his arms out to catch me. "You okay?" he asked, steadying me against him.

"Yeah, yeah, thanks," I looked up to thank him but he was suddenly too close. Our laughter died as quickly as it came. Suddenly, the only thing we were aware of was each other. How close we were standing and how our faces were mere inches away.  And how his face was slowly descending on mine.

That first kiss was as sweet as it was unexpected. It was soft and warm, and absolutely magical. I slowly opened my eyes after, only to see his face was still as close. "What was that for?"

He shrugged. "Just something I wanted to do," he breathed, guiding my chin upwards before descending on me again. This time, he was surer and more insistent. Asking and  searching, then finding my response, demanding more. My cheeks felt warm when we finally surfaced to breathe.

I opened my eyes. This time, he was staring at me, a small curious smile on his face. I turned away self-consciously. Desperate to divert his attention, I pried the phone from his fingers. The word failed was written on the screen. I sighed with relief, "Thank goodness, your upload failed."

Jesse refused to let me go though. He plucked a wayward lock of hair and tucked it behind my ear. "I don't have an internet connection here. Did you really think I was going to post it?" he clucked. "I was just teasing you."

I answered with a pout, but he tweaked my nose in response. "Come on, I'm not sharing this face with the world. This is all mine," he joked.

Mine? I looked at him and I could see his cheeks begin to redden with the admission. He pulled the bonnet I was wearing downward until it covered my eyes. "Come on, we better start heading back. It's getting pretty late."

By the time I had the bonnet righted, he had already turned away and was descending the steps. But even with his back turned to me, I could still see that his ears were a bit pink. What just happened? One thing I knew for sure. You don't kiss girls you think of as your little sister like that. Despite the chilly air, I felt warm all over as I slowly started to follow him.

Chapter 10

#ShitHitsTheFan

MY PHONE WAS THE FIRST THING I reached for when I woke up the next day. I quickly scrolled through the photos. The ones from last night, of Jesse and me at The Ruins of St. Paul, were still there, along with a couple more we took as we walked back to the hotel. There's one of him being all gangsta under an antique-looking street lamp. There's one of me looking all emo, perched on a railing along San Malo. There's even a casual selfie of us having instant coffee outside the convenience store beside our hotel.

A giggly feeling rose up from my throat. It happened! Last night happened. Jesse and Five. I giggled again as I inserted the conjunction between our names. I tried to scold myself for acting like a silly schoolgirl, but I was too happy to care.

Reassured that last night wasn't imagined, I spent a few extra minutes being extra careful with my outfit. I even bothered with a little lipgloss and mascara, things I brought along just in case we had to spiffy up for something dressier than the usual.

I went off to grab breakfast solo, stopping myself from the temptation of knocking on Jesse's door. Play it cool, Five! Don't scare him, I told myself. Still, I found myself on alert, ears perking whenever people approached, waiting for him to make his entrance through the restaurant's entryway.

But even if he was a no-show by the time I was done with the buffet tables, I was too happy that nothing could bring me down. I guess my happiness was apparent when Megh waved me to the table she was sharing with Simon, her usual Cheshire cat meets sexy grin marred by big sunglasses. "Somebody looks happy. Had a great time yesterday?"

"Yes, I did! You'll never believe my day," I gushed, chomping at the bit to have someone to gossip with.

"Hey Simon," I nodded. Simon, being his usual quiet self, just greeted me back before focusing on the heavy Chinese-style congee and dumplings breakfast he was eating.

"Oh, so did I, honey. So, did I," Megh retorted with a sexy hair flip. Like the kind you saw in shampoo commercials but never in real life. Well, except if Megh was in your life. "You'll never guess who I spent the evening with! I was up all night with your travel buddy Jesse!"

Wait. Did I hear her right? How could she have been with Jesse? I was with Jesse all night and there was no Megh in sight. "Jesse?" I laughed. "Are you still dreaming, Megh? How could you have been with Jesse? I was with Jesse. We went to Macau Tower then had dinner at a small street stall downtown."

"Oh, of course not then, silly. Not during your travel buddy sightseeing time. I meant much much later." From above her sunglasses, I saw her wiggle her eyebrows suggestively. "Like after midnight later, if you know what I mean."

"No, I don't know what you mean," I retorted, feeling my irritation rising. What the hell is she talking about?

"Jesse and I enjoyed a long leisurely stroll around Senado Square. He said he was going to take photos, but really, who takes photos at two in the morning right? I knew it was just an excuse to hang out with me," she replied smugly, casually stirring cream and sugar in her coffee.

I bristled at the thought. I was the one with Jesse at Senado—Wait, 2am? We said goodnight at around 1:30 am. "Did you say 2am? What exactly were you doing there at 2am?"

"Walking around, talking, posing for selfies. You know, the usual bonding things. He said he needed to take more photos for his blog, but come on, really? At 2am?" She rolled her eyes. "I mean, who'd want to take photos of musty old churches in the middle of the night? Especially that broken down one. He was so picky about getting the perfect shot, setting up his tripod and tweaking this and that camera setting."

"The Ruins of St. Paul's?" I whispered, more to myself than to her, but Megh picked it up.

"Yes! That one. He dragged me all the way there, saying it was absolutely essential to get the perfect shot for his blog. He was making such a big deal about ideal conditions, no tourists, the perfect shot that no one else had—whatever! Boring stuff. I just tuned him out and watched him work. You have to agree, he's very easy on the eyes in those jeans of his."

"He brought you to St. Paul's," I echoed again, quite unable to wrap my head around the idea. "So he can get the perfect shot that no one else had. For his blog."

"Yup, exactly. He said it was really important that he get it, so he insisted that I come." Her eyes turned shifty, like she was hiding something. "And you know me, I'm a very easy going person. If a cute guy insists on my presence, why should I deprive him of it?" She made a sideways glance at Simon before pulling out her phone. "You know what? We even took pictures!" She scrolled through her phone until she found what she was looking for. She flashed the photo at Simon and me. It was just as she said. She and Jesse, her face stuck close to his, the ruins figuring prominently in the background. Just like the ones we took. In fact, they were exactly like the ones we took.

That was when my happy bubble burst.

I DON'T KNOW HOW I LASTED the rest of breakfast. The table conversation took a turn for the weird with the three of us just minding our own business, lost in our own heads. I excused myself as soon as I could, saying I needed to pack. While it was true, the truth was that I just needed some room to myself, so I could forget about things and not see Megh's smug face.

My body went on autopilot, going through the motions of packing. My mind however, was elsewhere. My conversation with Megh was going on loop in my head. Jesse and Megh. Shoot at the Ruins of St. Paul. The perfect shot that no one else had. Megh and Jesse. Together at 2am.

But no matter how many times I went over it in my head, I was unable to make excuses for what happened. I saw the photo. Everything that Megh said was true. All my happiness went out of me, like a balloon slowly being deflated. I felt betrayed and used. At the very least, I won't give him the satisfaction of casting me aside, too.

JESSE WAS SEATED ON ONE OF THE COUCHES in the hotel lobby when I came down. His face lit up with a smile as I drew nearer. "Hey, Five!" he said before scooting over and patting the seat beside him on the couch. "Sorry for skipping out on breakfast. I overslept."

I felt a stab of pain when I saw that betraying smile. At least I didn't need to wonder why he overslept. I nodded at him coolly, acknowledging his greeting before heading over to the concierge to surrender my keycard. I spent ages at that counter, just dawdling, feeling his stare on my nape.

I tried prolonging the inevitable, but I had to go back at some point. When I returned to the couch, I pointedly ignored Jesse's confused look and sat as far from him as possible. It wasn't difficult since Megh, Simon, and Gail were already there, making small talk. From my peripheral vision, I could see Jesse's expression turn from confusion to frustration. Serves him right, I thought to myself. He doesn't deserve anything from me.

Dodging Jesse wasn't the easiest thing to do, but somehow, I managed. I made sure I was always with someone, ensuring that no private conversations were possible, from the moment Javier picked us up, to when we had to board the plane. The tension was palpable, but at least there were no confrontations. I just wanted to distance myself from him, to get away without hearing another of his lies. Hopefully, I'll forget everything soon enough.

When we got to the plane, I switched seats with Megh, who jumped at the chance to ditch Simon and sit with Jesse. I felt jealous as she sauntered down the aisle to get to my assigned seat, but I had to remind myself that it was a good thing. They deserved each other and I deserved someone more.

Simon was surprised when I plopped down beside him. But his confusion gave way to a shrug after I explained switching seats with Megh. Fortunately for me, Simon was in top form so after a few polite exchanges, I was able to sit back and wallow in my little pity party until we got back to Manila. At least it got nipped in the bud, I reminded myself. I'm sure whatever I'm feeling will be gone in a day or two. Faster than the length of time we've known each other, I bet. Too bad the idea of a quick recovery wasn't enough to cheer me up.

@cyberspace

Chapter 11

#InsertBrokenHeartedPlaylistHere

I ALWAYS HAD THIS NOTION THAT OF ALL the people in the world, I was the one who knew myself best. But apparently, I didn't know myself as well as I always thought I did. That estimate I made on the plane? About being okay in a few days? It appeared that I was being too optimistic.

Because two weeks had passed and I was still hurting over the whole thing. That adage about time healing all wounds may be true, but nowhere did it say just how much time it needed.

All I wanted was to get home as soon as I could. I knew I had no business getting all hurt; what were we anyway but a possibility? But try telling that to a heart that was breaking. While the attraction was all imagined, the hurt wasn't. After landing back in Manila, all I wanted to do was go home, lock myself up in my room, and cry.

While I was successful in dodging Jesse all throughout the flight home, it was a different matter at the airport back in Manila. He finally managed to corner me just as I was hauling my suitcase from the baggage carousel.

"Tell me I'm imagining things," he said, his face a confused mix of emotions. "Why are you avoiding me, Five? What did I do?"

"Nothing," I mumbled. I pulled my suitcase's handlebars and prepared to wheel away but he caught my arm in a tight grip. This was the last thing I wanted to deal with. Unfortunately for me, a mischievous god was blocking my quick getaway.

"I don't know why you're mad!" 

"I'm not mad. I'm just tired and I need to get home." I didn't need a confrontation scene. Everything was too raw. Too painful. I just wanted to get home and never see him again.

"Stop lying. I know you're mad. I just want to know why. We were okay last night. More than okay, actually. Then I wake up and you're suddenly avoiding me? What happened between last night and this morning? Was I dreaming last night? I know I wasn't because I have pictures on my phone to prove it." Frustration was evident from his tone.

"Maybe I should ask you that instead," I retorted sharply, unable to restrain myself. "Or if you can't answer it, maybe you should review the pictures on your phone. Or better yet, on Megh's phone." Jesse looked like he was hit in the gut. "I know you were out with Megh all of last night. Judging from the photos, it looked like you two were having a great time together."

"Oh and speaking of photos, congratulations! You win. You finally got your precious photo of the ruins. I'm sure it's going to look lovely on your blog. After all, it's the one shot you have that none of us do. Looks like all your efforts to be friendly with me paid off, huh?"

"It's not like that," he argued but I cut him short.

"Jesse, Jesse, Jesse. It's all right, you can drop the act," I interrupted. "I totally understand you. I guess I forgive you even. The business we're in, it's tough. There's a million travel blogs out there, each one offering most of the same drivel. You needed something to set you apart. So, you had to do something about it, even if it means being nice to your competition. This is war, after all, and all bets are off."

"No, Five, we had something—"

I laughed bitterly. "Did you really think that? I didn't realize you were so naive! I was just having a spot of fun with you. I had a bet going with Megh. About you. But I guess I lost that one too, huh?" I shrugged, making things up as I went, so desperate was I to hurt him as much as he hurt me.

And it got to him. The expression on his face mirrored the pain I was feeling. Now we were even. "So, now that you don't need me anymore, can you just please let go of me? I need to go home and rest. I still have to work tonight." I yanked my arm from his hand again. But this time, his hand loosened its grip and I was able to march away, my suitcase wheels trundling behind me as I left him and everything about Macau behind.

"YOU HAVE TO STOP THIS, FIVE," Libby told me during another post-midnight Skype session. I was having a pseudo-lunch of cup ramen in the middle of my shift. My desk was littered with a few more instant ramen cups, a couple of empty iced tea bottles and some discarded sandwich wrappers. I had been burying myself in work the past two weeks, seeing how effective it was in distracting me from thinking about things I shouldn't think about.

"Mom's worried about you. She says you've been holed up in your room since you came back from Macau. I thought you were having fun there. All those tweets and Instagram photos said you were having the time of your life. Then suddenly, no updates. What happened, Five?" It must be something major if Mom managed to get Libby to step in. And Libby's really worried, judging from her outfit. She was in her pajamas, so it meant that she either stayed up, or got up from bed just to catch me during my graveyard shift lunch break.

"Mom's just paranoid. I've been busy with work. There's so much to catch up with since I was away," I reassured her. And it was true. Mostly.

"Ugh, Five? You were away for less than a week. You probably missed two days of work at most. What's really bothering you? It's that guy, isn't it? Jesse, was it?" I bristled at the mention of his name.

"That's so old news, Libs," I said, busying myself with my cup noodles. "There is no guy. We just hung out in Macau, maybe flirted a bit," I shrugged, "But that's it. I really am just busy with work."

"You think I'd actually buy that? Try again, Five." I rolled my eyes as Libby threw her weight around. Just because she's older than me by a year, she thinks she knows everything. "Your Twitter account's quiet. So is your Instagram. And you haven't updated your blog in two weeks. And to think you've just returned from a trip so you should have a lot of material to blog about."

"I just don't feel like it, okay?" I poked my chopsticks in my ramen cup, idly twirling the noodles around as I lost my appetite. "Macau was boring. I still need to find an interesting handle—"

"All your tweets and photos there say otherwise," Libby interrupted.

"I was just trying to keep myself preoccupied—"

"If you ask me, I think something happened in Macau and you're skirting the issue. You're playing the avoidance game again. You think that if you ignore the problem, it'll go away. You've been like that since we were kids. If I didn't step in, you'd have let that classmate of yours bully you until the school year ended.

"I've got news for you, Five. It's not going to go away. It's been two weeks. You can't stay holed up in your room forever. You need to move on. And you won't be able to do that if you don't do something about it." I hated it when Libby got on her high horse and delivered her big sister speech. As if she knew everything.

"I'm not avoiding things. I'm just—"

"Then why haven't you even unpacked yet?!" My eyes narrowed at the revelation.

"How do you know that? Mom's been going through my stuff again, hasn't she? I can't believe you guys! Can't you just mind your own business?" I flared up, irritated at having my privacy invaded.

"Ugh, laundry?" Libby retorted. "What, you're going to wait until your clothes start moving on their own? Dude, you're so not acting like yourself. You'd always unpack and put your things away as soon as you get home, even when you're really tired. Do you know how much flak I've gotten from mom for not being more like you? But now, you couldn't even be bothered to unzip your bags. Of course mom's going to worry."

"Look, I'm really just busy catching up with work—"

"You were gone for two days at most. Even if a ton of work piled up then, it's not possible for you to be unable to catch up in a day or two. You're too good at your work. So stop lying and just tell me what's wrong. Or do you want me to make Mom go through your diary? I still know where you hide it, you know."

"We fought okay? He was being an asshole and I got pissed and we fought and we are never ever talking again. Story over. There, happy?" I snapped. "And shut up, I don't write in my diary anymore."

That finally shut Libby up. For a few seconds. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"There's nothing to talk about," I insisted. "Turns out he was only using me to increase his blog hits." I tried to be nonchalant about it, but saying it out aloud reminded me of the hurt, penetrating my carefully constructed wall of denial. But once I started, I found it difficult to stop. I wasn't just answering my sister's question; I was finally trying to come to terms with the situation.

"I thought he liked me. I really thought he did," I added softly. "Despite our little disagreements, we seemed to complement each other perfectly. He was warm, he was funny, he was always looking out for me. He encouraged me to face my fears and he was ready to catch me when I fell. Oh, Libs, he was perfect. We were only together for a few days but I knew in my gut that he was the one. But everything turned out to be a lie."

Whenever you feel bad about something, people always try to tell you they understand. But they rarely do. Libby, however, I could tell from the look on her face that she knew what I was going through. And it was killing her to not be able to give me a hug.

"Are you sure it's over, Five?" my sister asked. "What did he lie about? Maybe it's just a misunderstanding?" I shook my head.

"I don't know what to think anymore." Slowly, I recounted the whole story to Libby. Each moment, each sordid detail. It hurt to go through everything because it reminded me of what might have been. I'd give anything to make it true. To make it a misunderstanding. But it was too real.

"Oh, honey, are you sure it's not a mistake? Maybe if you talk to him—"

"I don't want to talk to him anymore, Libs. That story's over and done with. Even if it was a mistake, I'm sure he's equally mad at me now," I said, remembering how I lashed out at the airport. "All that's left is to put this behind me. I'll be fine. And Libs? Thank you for listening. I feel loads better now." And it was true. Talking about it made me feel better. I wasn't back to normal, but it was a start.

I finished the rest of my shift feeling as if I were detached from my body, watching myself work from the outside, hardly able to wait for my shift to end. Once I logged off, I headed straight to the suitcase sitting forlornly in a corner of my room, waiting to be unpacked.

I really thought I was okay. I thought I had gotten over whatever happened in Macau. But talking to Libby made me realize that I was merely bottling my feelings inside. Just because I thought I was dealing well, didn't really mean that I was healing. It was like duct taping something broken instead of actually fixing it. And it was unearthing the unmatched glove that finally undid me. Two weeks after leaving Macau, I finally broke down and allowed myself to cry.