Thirty Two
T he surprise birthday dinner for Marlon’s Dad is today at lunch. The one he’d told me about weeks ago, during one of our late-night calls. It’d escaped my memory, until Mum reminded me of it after Church.
“Are you okay to come?” she asks, eyes avoiding mine.
Ever since my little spat at her, she’d acted more guarded around me. Careful. Her voice is not as light as it once was.
“I should be,” I respond, because I don’t want to avoid attending a close family-friends’ birthday, just because of something that happened between Marlon and I.
The surprise lunch is at a local Vietnamese restaurant that’s Tito Daniel’s favourite. My family and I arrive just ten minutes before the Salvador’s are meant to be walking through. We seat ourselves at the end of the table, beside Tita Lucillia and Tita Bea. I am sure to get the very edge, to avoid having to be near Marlon.
Already, as I step through the restaurant doors, all their eyes fall on me, glowing with enthusiasm. Bianca, Marlon’s little cousin, follows my every movement as I sit at the opposite far end. I pretend to occupy myself with the restaurant menu, my nerves buzzing.
It’s Marlon’s brother who stands, alerting us that Tito Daniel has arrived. As soon as Tito Daniel’s hand pushes open the door, our whole table erupts into singing happy birthday.
Together, the Salvador’s walk through, with Tita Regina and and Tito Daniel on his heels, closely behind. Marlon’s lips are stretched into that smile of his that I deeply adore and just the mere glimpse of it sets the fireworks off.
He hasn’t spotted me yet, his focus still on his Dad.
Everyone congratulates Tito Daniel, wishing him a happy birthday. Mum prods us to greet him as well, and reluctantly I trail behind my parents as we pass on greetings to him. As Tito Daniel thanks us for coming, that’s when I finally let my gaze fall on Marlon.
He’s sitting at the table, just across from where his Dad is, and he’s already looking at me. I quickly skitter my focus away, face heating at the contact.
The rest of the lunch goes by as smoothly as I could hope. Marlon and I are on far opposite ends of the table. When Bianca asks Marlon why he’s not sitting with me, he informs her that it’s a family gathering, and we’re meant to sit with our families.
No one else pushes us to each other, thankfully. I fear that Tita Regina senses something is up, or Marlon had told her about our little encounter, because she doesn’t try to get us to pose for photos together like before.
I’m able to enjoy the food and the company as best I can. Ria and I chat idly to each other about recent happenings in the entertainment world, including a new song from a kpop group we’d recently gotten into, and an upcoming release from our favourite author. Mum is able to catch up with Tita Regina, and I watch them with amusement as they pose together for selfies and reminisce on their high school days, when Tita Regina had first met Tito Daniel.
During dessert, I sneak glances at Marlon. As always, he has that dimpled grin, joy bouncing in those brown eyes of his as he catches up amongst his cousins. His laugh travels across the table, setting my insides on fire. Seeing him happy helps me to be more at ease. Even if it means that I can’t be the one making him laugh right now.
Is this what true love is meant to be? Beyond all the meet-cutes, the dramatic confessions, the yearning glances…is it just being happy for the other person, even if you yourself are not the reason?
The lunch ends on a high-note, just the way it started. My family bids our goodbyes to Tito Daniel, and I excuse myself to the bathroom, so as to not have to say goodbye to Marlon directly.
The restrooms are outside, just through the backdoor. I step through, and my body impacts with another.
“Sorry -” I stammer. That’s when I realise it’s Marlon.
“Marlon, I -”
His eyes blaze as they meet mine, looking at me like I’m both his downfall and his salvation.
“You can’t ignore me forever, Jaslene,” he says, his voice stern. Angry. Defeated.
I shake my head.
“I can’t do this right now.”
I try to walk past him, but he moves to stand in front of me.
“You can’t keep running away,” his jaw is tense, “What are you running away from, Jas?”
I step back, fury seizing me.
“I am not running from anything.”
“You are, Jas, I know you.”
“You don’t know me.”
“Yes, I do. Nobody knows you like I do.” he steps closer to me, “Why did you suddenly want to stop the ruse? Why did you stop talking to me, after that weekend we spent together?”
“Because it’s becoming too real for me, Marlon,” I cry out, the tears springing from my eyes. I didn’t even realise they were there. I wipe them away hastily.
“We were becoming too real Marlon, and I couldn’t handle holding onto the hope that it could be real for you too when it’s been Christine for you all along.”
Marlon’s lips part, “What are you -”
“I can’t keep pretending, when it’s real for me now.”
The words curl itself around my throat, and I swallow. Marlon seems to have nothing to say, so I step around him, hurrying toward the restroom. Leaving him behind, once again.
I wonder if this time, it’s for good.
That night, after my parents have gone to bed, Ria and I linger in the living room downstairs, drinking our tea.
I haven’t told her, not explicitly, of Marlon and I’s falling out. She doesn’t know that I’d intentionally distanced myself from him the past couple of weeks. Yet, she knows me. She knows me better than anyone.
“Why are you doing it?” she asks, her voice soft. For the first time I finally look at her, and strip away the wall I’d been hiding behind. Defeat sags from my skin, and I fold myself over, propping my elbows atop my knees, forehead against my palms.
“It’s always been Christine,” I say.
“How do you know that?”
“Because that’s how it always goes with me Ria,” I exclaim, tears springing to my eyes suddenly. “The hopeless romantic is just hopeless afterall. He asked me two weeks ago how you can tell if you like someone. He was talking about Christine, I’m certain.”
Ria’s lips part in surprise.
“But how…why would he say that after taking you on that date? After doing all of that for you?”
It’s the same question I also tormented myself with. I shake my head.
“The bottom line is…Maybe it’s always been Marlon and Christine, and I was just there to make him realise that.”
“Today, at the party -” Ria begins, her words toeing on confusion,, “He looked like - he kept looking at you, and I heard you guys from the toilets -”
I straighten myself, shaking my head.
“Bottom line is, I can’t come between him and Christine,” I state, voice hardening, “This entire ruse, it was also for him to win her back. Everything that happened in between was just a mistake.”
“I don’t think you believe that,” Ria says. Her expression betrays a hint of pity, and I hate that it’s my little sister feeling this way toward me. It should be the other way around. “And he doesn’t believe it either. You are always daydreaming about the perfect romance, but don’t you realise that no romance is perfect? Even Mum and Dad’s. Remember, Mum didn’t like Dad when she first met him. She thought she hated him. Don’t forget that.”
I shake my head, wanting nothing more than to end this conversation. Finishing my tea, I head upstairs without another word. Just before it hits midnight, Cheyenne calls me.
“Hey,” I whisper.
“Hey. Ria texted me,” she says. I close my eyes, inhaling deeply. I should be mad that Ria had told Cheyenne before I could, but I don’t have it in me. I’m lucky, truly, that my sister cares about me so much, even when I’m the biggest pain in the ass.
“Cheyenne, it’s okay, you don’t have to worr-”
“I worry,” she responds, “And Jaslene, I know it’s late there, but I needed to tell you. Don’t let him go. I’ve grown up watching you fall over and over for the wrong boys. Falling for this fantasy version of them in your head, equating them to the fictional boys you love so much. Masterminding these plans so you can get them to fall in love with you. None of them were real, Jaslene. But Marlon is. I’ve never - you’ve never spoken with so much passion about someone than you have about Marlon.”
Tears stain my pillowcase before I realise I’m even crying.
“I miss you, Cheyenne,” I say. I miss my best friend, and I wish she were here with me now, witnessing the mess firsthand.
“I miss you too. This year will go by soon, okay? Then we’ll be back to our hijinks.”
“You’re missing my birthday,” I whine, but my voice is lighthearted and her words have managed to alleviate some of the weight that’d been riding on my chest for the past couple of weeks.
“Never ever. Expect a belated package from me. I’d never miss it for the world.”
We both chuckle.
I lull myself to sleep with Cheyenne and Ria’s words circulating my mind. I think about what Ria said about our parents’ love story, about how even theirs isn’t perfect.
Nothing will ever make me believe theirs isn’t the greatest romance, but as I reflect on how they’d broken up multiple times, about how they still have petty, silly arguments, and how their meet-cute began with Mum’s dislike for Dad…
Then maybe love isn’t perfect after all. And that’s what makes it worth it.
And now, the only person I’d thought who would never, ever be perfect for me, ended up being the one that feels real.