Rhythm (3 page)

At the moment, I’m on operation
kill-Lola-with-guilt-then-thank-her-to-bits.

I go to my room and lock it—which, by the
way, I never ever did—and let Lola go crazy knocking and begging
outside my room. I even get the duplicate key so she’ll go insane
even more. I listen to her, figuring out what she’s up to, and I
hear our front door open, then close. She left me? Where would she
go at 11 in the evening? She is demented. Hmm. Maybe she’s meeting
some suitor? Maybe. After I convince myself that she’ll be back in
no time, I shower real quick and go to bed. I am deadbeat.

I don’t realize that I doze off until I hear
the banging in my door.
What in the world?
I peep at my
bedside clock: 11:24 pm—then I remember Lola. Someone’s
speaking—no, shouting—outside, but the voice isn’t Lola’s. It is
quite familiar, though. It is of a man’s. It is Grant’s.
Grant?
Why is he here? I am fully awake now. I jump out of
bed and head straight for the door. Grant is about to bang once
more but stops midway when he sees that I open the door.

“Rhy, are you okay? What happened to you? Are
you okay? Please, tell me you are okay. What do you want?
Water?”

He turns to Lola and commands, “Lola, get her
something to drink.”

“What . . . what’s happening?” I eventually
find my voice.

“Lola went to my dorm, crying. She’s babbling
something about you. I didn’t waste my time and went straight here
to see myself what happened to you. Are you okay?”

“Grant, you’ve asked that three times in less
than a minute that you’re here. Yes, I am okay, but why would Lola
cry and what is she babbling about me?”

Lola walks towards me with a glass of water.
Her hands are shaking; her eyes are red from crying. She is a
mess.

“Lola, what happened? Why did you go to
Grant? Why are you crying?”

“I thought . . . I thought . . . I saw . . .
that you were very upset because you locked the door. You never
lock your door. Ever. You said that locking it means blocking
everything around you, which you said you wouldn’t do unless you’re
crazy upset about something. And you were not answering me. I
thought . . . that . . . you have taken your life.”

“What?!” Grant and I ask in unison, shock
apparent in our voices.

“Why would I do that, Lola?”

Her brows meet in the middle of her forehead
as her shoulders sag in defeat. “I don’t know. I saw you bawling
earlier, so I did what I thought what’s best—I set up a date for
you and Grant. But when you arrived home, you were not talking to
me. I assumed that it just didn’t go well as I planned it and . . .
you were very quiet in your room. I was finding the duplicate key,
but I couldn’t find it. The next thing I know was that I was
running to bring Grant here, to save you.”

“Awww, L. I don’t need saving. I just fell
asleep.” I won’t tell her that I wasn’t asleep yet when she left.
“That’s all. About the door . . . I did lock it because I want you
to pay for what you’ve done to me, but I didn’t mean to frighten
you.”

“You knew?” She’s bewildered.

“At first, I don’t. After a while, I caught
your slipup. Apparently, you said that Grant asked your number. But
Lola, he doesn’t have a cell phone.”

“He doesn’t?” The understanding sinks in.
“Right. Look, Rip. I don’t have any bad intention. I just want you
to be happy. I saw how sad you were a while ago, and I want to put
back your amazing smile on your face, that’s why I asked Grant to
have dinner with me and promised him I’ll help him with you, though
he doesn’t know that you were coming, too.”

“The way you two acted . . .” I remember that
they held hands. They even looked happy together.

“I decided to tell him my plan the moment I
grabbed his hand.”

“So, Grant, you knew that we would watch the
movie alone together?”

“No, I didn’t. When I saw Lola’s love letter
to you, I realized she was on a big mission.” He’s staring at me,
agitated. Do I look that suicidal?

“Uhm, Rip.” Lola is fighting something . . .
She’s fighting her mirth?

“What else, Lola? What else did you do?”

“None, but . . . I think you should . . .
close your door and change, maybe?” There’s a ridiculous hilarity
in her manner. What is wrong with her?

“Change? What change are you talking about?”
I am getting annoyed.

“Clothes?” she answers, somehow
smothered.

Oh. My. Word.

I feel all my blood leave me. I think I am
drained up to the last of my red and white blood cells.

I wear nothing but a camisole . . . a white
satin camisole. My knee-jerk reaction is to cover my breast, look
at Grant horribly, and close the door—in his face.

“Aw,” Grant says, grumbling.

I don’t care if he’s hurt. The pain I feel is
far greater than the pain he may be feeling.

I can hear Lola’s cackle. She found this
entertaining? Duh.

I try to think what to do or what to say.
Should I act normal? Should I speak or will that lead to more
embarrassing moments?
Think, Rhythm. Think.
I am
thinking—more on reliving—the past few minutes. Now I understand
the look Grant was giving me. He’s worried about my reaction when I
realize what I’m wearing IN FRONT OF HIM. Gah. Kill me now. Kill.
Me. Now.

“Rip, don’t you make me worry again. Say
something.” Lola is trying to hide the amusement in her voice.

“K,” is all that I can manage to say.

With a knock, Grant bid me farewell. “Rhy,
I’ll leave now. Rest well . . . my white lady.”

I’m. Dead.

Grant

It’s almost a week now but Rhy hasn’t given
me her yes. Will she ever give it to me? I’m torn between yes and
no. Yes because she seems happy when we’re together. After giving
me the chance, her treatment with me changed. Before, she would say
thank you but wouldn’t even look at me. Now, she says thank you
with a smile, a very beautiful smile. About the no . . . no because
she’s still reserved when she’s with me. She rarely talks about
herself. I don’t even know anything about her family, her passions,
or her hobbies. I only know basic stuff about her, which her
teachers would also know. It’s as if she’s afraid to open up and be
attached with the world. She only opens up with her best friend
Lola, and Lola wouldn’t betray Rhy and tell me things I need and
want to know.

I only have two days left to prove to her
that I am worthy of the chance she gave me. I have to have that yes
from her. I need her. I love her. So much.

Most people, though, don’t understand my
fascination with Rhy. They don’t think I’m serious with her and
believe that I will only hurt her. They don’t see that what I have
for her is genuine, and I wouldn’t last this long trying to win her
heart if all I want is for her to get hurt. That’s the last thing I
want for her. No. I
don’t
like that for her. I only want to
make her happy. I want to appreciate little things in life with
her. I want her to be with me through ups and downs of my life. I
want to hold her hand when I’m happy and when I’m sad. I want her
to be the reason why I smile or even why I cry. I want to check my
bucket list with her. I want to share stories with her. I want us
to be best of friends more than anything else. I also want to be
the love of her life. I want to be the one to make her blush. I
want to be the one who will make her laugh. I want to be her
confidant. I want everything that has to do with her. I love
her—all of her.

But how can she know that I am for real, that
what I feel for her is sincere and true? I need to think of
something that will catch and hold her attention. Ugh. I don’t have
any idea what to do. I’m beginning to doubt myself.

That’s when Lola walks in front of me.

“Lols, hi.” She hates the nickname I gave
her, but I won’t change it even if I need her help right now.

“Lols? Seriously, Grant? When will you stop
calling me with that nickname?” She’s annoyed. Maybe I should stop
calling her Lols?

“I wouldn’t. Besides, it suits you.”

“How does it suit me?”

I ignore the fact that I’m getting on her
nerves. “Because you laugh out loud? A lot. That’s why it’s with
s
. LOLS.”

Aggravated, she says, “Go to h, Grant.” She
turns her back on me, but I block her path.

“Please don’t leave yet. I need something
from you, and by the way, what
h
?”

“H-E-L-L, that’s what it is. Now if you’ll
excuse me.”

I burst out laughing. She spelled the word
and not said it straight. No wonder they are best friends. Rhy also
does the same. As much as possible, she will not curse or say bad
things. Doing so will give her a reason to have a heart attack
someday—as per what she told me. Anyway, I have to stop laughing or
she won’t help me.

“I’m sorry, Lols. Please, just give me a
minute. I need your help.”

“You should have thought of the possible
consequences before calling me Lols.”

“I said I’m sorry. Okay, here’s the deal. I
will never—”
until Rhy says yes
“—call you Lols ever again.
Promise. In return, can you help me with Rhy?” I’m practically
begging. The only thing left for me to do is to fall on my knees,
which I hope she wouldn’t let me do.

“Ever?”

“Yes. Ever.”
Until Rhy says yes.
I
repeat in my head.

“And if you do?”

“That’s the thing. I won’t.”

She studies me for what seems like forever
then gives in. “Fine. What’s up with you and Rip?”

“Thank you, Lol—a.” I almost slip up. “Same
old, same old, but I only have two days left to prove myself to
her. What do you think I have to do to finally get her to say
yes?”

“Just be yourself. Continue what you’re
doing. She’ll say yes eventually.”

“Eventually? Didn’t you hear me? I only have
two days. Two days, Lola. Please, come up with a brilliant
idea.”

“Why would I have to come up with a brilliant
idea? Am I the one who’s courting Rip?”

“Gee, calm down, Lola. I need your
help
to come up with an idea. What are her hobbies? Her
passions?”

“You seriously don’t have any idea?”

I shake my head. “She barely talks about
herself. She asked questions about me, which I gladly answered, but
I couldn’t ask her the questions I wanted to ask. I tried, but she
shut me down.”

“That sounds like Rip. Anyway, what I can
advice you is to be yourself. She doesn’t let anyone in her life
because for her, most, if not all, of the people are fake, and that
they will only leave and hurt her. If she convinced herself that
you are not one of them, she will let you in. I know that for a
fact because I have to go through the same process to get her to
trust me and label me as her best friend. You’re doing good, I
believe. Just continue what you’re doing, and she’ll say yes.
Eventually
,” she ends it with a laugh.

“Thank you, Lola. I know now what I will
do.”

“You do?” she asks, surprised.

“Yes, so if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go and do
it now.”

“Wait!” She tries to stop and grill me, but I
am already sprinting my way to Rhy.

---

“Oooh, Grant, what’s the rush? Running from
something? Killed someone?” Rhy jokes dryly.

“Hi, live. No and no. I’m rushing because I’m
running
to
someone who’ll make me
live
,” I lay my
punch line as smoothly as I can.

“Right.” After awkwardly waiting for a second
or two, she mumbles, “I guess I’ll see you later then. Gotta go.”
She starts to turn her back on me.

“No! Wait.” How am I supposed to do this? I’m
starting to get nervous.
Get a grip, Grant. It’s either now or
never.
“Uhm, Rhy . . . I . . .” I let out a heavy uneasy
breath. “You know how I feel about you or maybe you don’t. I mean,
I’ve been your dog tail for a year now . . .” Ugh. I’m stuttering.
“What I’m trying to say is that I really love you, Rhy. I really
do, and I want to know if . . . you know . . . do I get to hear a .
. . you know?”
Jeez, Grant, you’re so lame.

“You’re so lame, Grant. Just get straight to
the point. Or I’ll leave.”

She’s threatening me and it’s effective
because before I know it I’m speaking uncontrollably.

“Rhy, will you please be my girlfriend? I’m
dying to hear a yes. Please say yes, but if you don’t feel like
saying yes, then please j—”

“Finally,” she cuts me off. “I’ve been
thinking how to tell you that
word
if you’re not even
asking
. I mean I don’t know how to do it. What? You’ll give
your punch line and I’ll say yes? You’ll give me flowers and I’ll
say yes? What I’m trying to say is that I don’t know
how
will I tell you that
yes, I can be your girlfriend
if you’re
not even asking,” she stops her monologue then adds, “Oh, shut up,
Rhythm.” She finds me with my earsplitting horselaugh. I want to
stop. I can’t contain it though. “You’re seriously laughing at me?
Have you not reminded yourself what you are asking? Maybe you don’t
want my yes? No?”

I stop laughing and try to get serious. “No.
I mean yes. Wait. I mean I want to hear you say yes. Will I please
have the pleasure of being your man?”

She giggles. “Yes!”

Whoa!
She says yes, finally!

I’m about to hug her when she stops me by
wiggling her point finger in my face, shaking her head and saying,
“No, no, no, no. I have rules.”

“Rules?” That is the last thing I expect from
her, but I’m willing to comply for us to be official. “Ok,
anything. Will there be a contract or something?”

“Now that you’ve mentioned it, I think we
have to have one.” She actually seems considering this. Uh-oh.

“Just kidding, attorney.” I wink. “What are
your rules?”

“I only have two.”