Earlier this week, I went to our Manila campus to scout for not-so-popular reference books and Board Exam reviewers.
The easiest ride to go there from our house is an FX. When I reached the loading stop, a cute, tall, somehow chubby, fair guy on civilian garb got my focus. He looked like a student, and his destination, I had no idea. The stop accommodates jeepneys and FXs routed to three different major places so instead of trying to get his attention, I patiently waited for an FX going to Quiapo.
Alas, ten minutes of standing yielded a middle-seat boarded FX. I chose the back ride for it was empty and I rather thought that it would be a hard thing to squeeze myself in the driver's right seat for the long trip. To my surprise, the guy I was eyeing got to the back of that car first, which means I would see more of him along the trip. He sat on the right seat, I chose the one opposite him.
I was listening to my iPod songs via earphones (ones tucked in the earlobe) so technically there is no way that he would notice my interest on him. After a few meters of acceleration, I took a check over. The guy looked better in a short distance. He was beaming at his cellular, probably reading a funny SMS. He looked cuter.
I was content with just stealing glances. When we reached Ortigas, he was getting restless. I caught him looking back once or twice, but I'm not that malicious to interpret those riffles through as something to entertain or consider. I passed it as there-is-dirt-on-my-face.
Along Shaw Boulevard, before the intersection with Edsa, he was already extending his hands over the recline of the middle seat across my hands which were rested above the same portion. Additionally, he was also moving his feet unnecessarily, which bumped with my shoes, our knees had contact. I was suspecting something sinister.
I didn't ecstasize his intermittent shifting because I was not into him. I just noticed that he is cute. Period. I even closed my eyes to pretend listening deeply branching to a nap, but all the same. He was fidgeting.
When we reached Nueve de Febrero, I took my earphones away and started texting. I SMSed bloggers and classmates and even those defunct PR usernames on my phonebook just for something to do. He poked my knees and I looked at him, directly in the eyes. It was awkward but he had to have some confronting.
"Pre, anong meron? Likot mo eh," I told him.
"Wala naman dude, baka pwede lang makipagkilala," he said in wavering notes.
"Sorry, my mom told me not to talk to strangers," then I plugged my earphones back and looked at the window. I was half-laughing at the back of my head. It is never easy to avoid boys.
Good thing he took off at JRU. I didn't have to endure that awkward moment of pretending not to notice while someone is looking (read: examining ) at you.
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