Rhythm (7 page)

“No I’m not,” Grant interrupts us.

“Hi, honey. I was just telling Rhythm here
about us,” she’s practically cooing. Gah.

“There’s no us, Riley. I told you already and
will tell you again until you fully understand. You are not my
girlfriend. Now, will you please leave?”

“Grant, don’t do this to me. I love you.”

“I don’t. Just leave, Riley. Please.”

I am torn between happy and hurt—happy that
he’s telling her to leave and hurt that his voice is still soft
while talking with her. It’s his voice reserved only for me.

When Riley doesn’t move, Grant grabs my arm
gently and assists me inside my dorm. He turns before opening the
door.

“Goodbye, Riley.”

When we’re inside, he guides me to take a
seat on the sofa bed in the living room. I’m not sure if I’m ready
with this talk, but it’s better to get it out of the way.

“I have so many questions to ask, but I’ll
let you do the honor of telling me everything. No screening of
stories please. Make it pure, unadulterated. Go.” I try to sound
casual, even though I am deeply hurt. I want to give him a chance
to explain. I want to do it both for him and me. Yes, I can do
casual.

“First of all, I want to say I am very sorry
to you, Rhy, for not telling you right away about Riley. I didn’t
consider what was between us that important for me to share to you
because she is my past. She is before you. I thought of telling you
about her, but after you told me your story about Ben, I became a
coward. I put off the chances I had in telling you about her . . .
until now.”

He waits for me to say something while he
fidgets with his thumbs—a giveaway that he’s quite nervous.

“Go on,” I say.

“Riley was my girlfriend. We were together
for . . . honestly I’m not sure, two years, almost three? We became
exclusive when I went to Michigan one summer, so what we had was a
long-distance relationship. Knowing me, we didn’t have a means of
communication but snail mail. I replied in every mail she sent me,
until she stopped sending them altogether. I just learned from her
a while ago that she didn’t receive any response from me, but it
doesn’t matter anymore because for me, we broke up a long time ago.
Five months before I met you, I am already over her. And when I met
you, it became clear to me why it happened—the thing between Riley
and me. I understood that I am destined to meet you, and that I am
made whole even before our paths crossed. You are not a rebound
girl, Rhy.”

I heave a sigh, as I prepare to ask the
question of the day. “How, then, do you explain what happened
earlier?”

“Earlier?”

“The kiss?” I roll my eyes.

“Oh, that.” He wrinkles his nose as if the
memory disgusts him.
Hmm. Interesting.
“I am pushing her off
me, Rhy. I swear.”

“That didn’t look like it.” I contain my
exasperation in spite of the burning desire to strangle him.

“Why? Why would you tell that?”

“Because I saw you holding her, Grant. Not
pushing. Holding.”

“I am holding her to push her, promise, Rhy.
Please believe me.”

“Why didn’t you just push her without holding
her? You could have just stepped back, you know, like what you did
when I interrupted your moment.” I snap.

“I’m sorry, Rhy. It all happened in a blur
that I didn’t have time to think if holding her would be the right
way of getting rid of her or not. Please, Rhy. I wouldn’t want to
do that to another girl. I only want to kiss you. I only want you.
She is my past. You are my present and my future.”

“Are you sure, Grant? Because you know what I
think?”

He looks at me mournfully.

“Honestly, I think that you only agreed to my
rule about the physical thing because you’re doing to other girls
what you can’t do with me.”

“What?” he asks in disbelief.

“You can’t blame me, Grant. Not after what
I’ve seen, and no less than with
her
.” The bitter taste of
her memory is strong.

“Yeah, about that. You know her?”

“Remember the story of Ben?”

He nods.

“She’s the girl.”

He can’t hide his surprise. “Did you mean Ben
Hamilton?”

“You know him?”

“He’s my cousin.”

“Wow.”
What on earth?

“Yeah. Wow.”

I take a moment to let everything sink in
before asking, “Any other revelation?”

“What do you want to know? I think I covered
everything up.”

“I don’t know how to ask . . .”

“Just ask, Rhy. I don’t have anything to hide
from you. I want to be honest with you. What is it?”

I stutter as I ask, “Did you and Riley uhm .
. . you know, did it?”

“Did what?”

“The same thing that she and Ben did. You
know, when you were still together.”

“Oh.” His blood is washed-out from his
face.

“So?”

He catches his breath, and I know his answer
even before he speaks. “Yes.”

I know I shouldn’t have asked, and I know I
should not feel hurt because it happened before me, but still.

I take a deep breath and count to ten.
“Why?”

“I’m a guy, Rhy. Besides, I thought Riley
would be my forever girl. I am a one-woman man, and I never
considered changing girlfriends. But then things happened, and I
met you. I’m sorry, Rhy, for not waiting for you. You may not be my
first, but you will definitely be my last.”

“Is that supposed to comfort me? Because I
don’t feel any comfort,” I say in all honesty.

“I’m really sorry,” he tells me with a
defeated look.

“
That
is the reason why I wouldn’t
engage in any physical relationship with you. I don’t want to
regret anything. I don’t want for us to have anything to regret
about. Now, you fully understand one of my rules?”

“Yes, and I hope that I met you a long time
ago.”

“Well, stuff happen. I’m still having a hard
time to accept that you don’t have your V card anymore, but I still
have mine, so I guess no worries.”
No worries, Rhythm? Who are
you kidding?

“Am I forgiven?”

“Let me think.” I let him worry for a while,
even though I know that I forgive him already. “Yes, but do not let
another girl kiss you again. Okay?”

“Mmmkay.”

“Seriously, Grant. You are forgiven, but I
don’t know how to remove that image from my head.”

“I’m sor—”

“You’re sorry, I know. Now, shut up, and help
me have a selective amnesia.” Can I just open my head, operate on
it, and delete the image of Grant kissing another girl or the image
that I’ve been visualizing since he divulged his sexual
relationship with Riley before? I know it’s not healthy to think
about it because honestly, I’m going to be sick in my stomach and
dry heave myself to death. But how can I not think about it?

“C’mon!” He leads me to his pick up
truck.

“Where’re we going?”

“I’ll help you with the amnesia.”

Grant

My heart broke when Rhythm asked me to help
her have a selective amnesia, to remove the image of Riley and me
kissing. I don’t know how to do that, though I know how to put
memories in her mind that will somehow diverge her mind off that
image.

“We’re parasailing?” The excitement in her
voice is infectious.

“Yes. Problem with that?”

“None! Let’s do this!”

And so we did. And did. And did. And did.

“Aren’t you tired?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “You?”

“A little bit.”

“Okay, let’s do one more, then we’re
done.”

“One more? I thought the last two were our
last two?” She’s unbelievable.

“This is our last one.”

“Last?”

“Promise!” she swears.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

After what seems like a lifetime of
parasailing, she’s finally satisfied.

“Wow! Thank you, Grant. That was
wickemazing!”

“What?”

“Wickedly amazing!”

I laugh. “It was?”

“Yes. Is that your real surprise for our 10th
month?”

“No. I was supposed to bring you to a diner
and this is supposed to be for our 1st year. But 10th month plus
peace offering is, I believe, worth this.”

“I’m not a fan of peace offering because it
means we are not at peace with each other, but I can do live with
it.”

“Thank you, Rhy.”

“Why, sir, are you stealing my line?” she
teases.

“Because you let me explain, and you trust me
with your heart. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She takes a deep breath.
“Wow, it feels great. I feel great.”

“Me, too.”

“Me three.”

“Me four.”

“Me last.”

“Me second last.”

“Me
final
last.” She glares at me, and
I get it—she’s the last to end the conversation. And for me, she’ll
be the last girl in my life.
My forever girl.

Grant

Rhy’s birthday and our 1st year anniversary
are fast approaching. I’m excited with what I have prepared for
her. The past few weeks were full of dramas and incidents, so I
want to cover it up with something that will lighten up our
relationship.

I am happy with her. She is easy to please,
full of wisdom, and most of all, forgiving with me. But she has
been through so much; I may want to keep my actions free of things
that might cause her pain.

“Hi, love.” Wow. Is that Rhy speaking? She
made good on her promise that she’ll only call me Grant for almost
a year and now,
love
?

“Who are you? Where’s my baby? Did you
rip
her?” I ask teasing questions quite seriously because
really, where is she?

“Why, what have I done?” she asks, unaware of
her slipup.

“Love,” I say bluntly.

“Love?” she asks, confused.

“You called me love.”

She contemplates for a while, thinking what I
am talking about, and then it registers. “Oh.”

“Awww.” I can’t help but say it out loud.
“That’s sweet—you called me love when you are unaware. That’s pure,
honest, plain proclamation of your love for me. By the way, I love
you, too.” I beam.

“You like that a lot, don’t you?”

“Uh-huh.”

“You have a thing for affirmation, but I’m
not that good in affirming.”

“Well, at least you’re trying. That is what’s
important,” I assure her.

“Thank you for appreciating my small,
unaware, gesture of affirming.”

“Say it again. Please?”

“Thank you fo—”

“The other one. The
hi, love
.”

She blushes, and I fall in love with her all
over again. “Hi, love,” she says wanly.

“I don’t want to abuse it, but kindly say it
again.”

“Say what, love?” She chuckles.

“I love the word love. It’s my new favorite
word. Love. I love you, Rip. I love us. I love this day. I love
you.”

“I love you, too, my love,” she caresses me
with her words.

“Oooh. You’re killing me, babe.”

She snickers. “I don’t know that calling you
love will kill you. That’s ironic.”

“Now you know.”

“So, I won’t call you
that
anymore.”

“No, Rhy. Don’t stop calling me love.”

“Promise me something first.”

“Anything.”

“You promise?”

“Yes, I promise. Anyway, what do I
promise?”

“Don’t tell the police.”

“What?”

“You said I’m killing you. Don’t tell them
who’s your suspect if you’re still fortunately alive and they
interrogate you for investigation.”

I laugh. She rarely delivers a punch line,
and when she does, I can’t help but be amused by her.

“I won’t. I promise.”

Rhythm

I wake up to a sound of a gun—no, not a gun.
It’s a party popper.

“Happy birthday, Rip. You have a visitor,”
Lola says it in a singsong voice, although her voice couldn’t carry
a tune.

“What time is it?” I ask and at the same
time, glance at my bedside clock.

“Time for you to get up. Grant is waiting
outside.”

“It’s only 7 am,” I grumble.

“And it’s your birthday. Now get up, or I’ll
drag you out there.”

“You wouldn’t.” She wouldn’t, right? I’m
wearing the camisole Grant saw me wearing before, and I wouldn’t be
happy to be reminded of it. That was humiliating.

“Dare me.”

“I’m getting up.” I give up and change into
something presentable. I wash my face, brush my teeth, then go
outside to meet the love of my life.

“There’s my birthday girl.” He stands up when
he sees me. “Happy birthday. Mind if we celebrate it rather
early?”

“Thank you, love. No, I don’t.” I don’t
remind him that I am never a morning person. “What do you have for
me?”

“Just myself.”

“Wow. That’s the best gift I’ve ever
received.”

“You don’t like my gift.”

“No, I don’t.”

He fakes a hurtful expression.

“Because . . . I love it,” I add quite
dramatically.

He beams. “I’ll treat you a birthday
breakfast.”

“I love breakfast.” I may not be a morning
person, but I am a breakfast person.

“That you do. Now off we go, to
breakfast.”

“To breakfast,” I second the motion.

I am about to ride his truck when he states,
“We’ll walk. It’s not that far from here.”

I start to argue, but instead, I follow
him.

I don’t know that there’s a diner called
DINER just few blocks from our dorm.

“The name’s unique. I’m betting the foods
also are,” I mock.

“You bet.” He leads me to a table at the back
part and there we take our seats.

“Welcome to DINER, may I take your orders?”
the waiter asks.

Maybe Grant is getting this all wrong because
I can’t see a single menu. What diner doesn’t have a menu?

“Uhm, Grant. Where’s the menu?”