Chapter 34
The makeup artist at the salon earlier told me that using powder on my face would help blur imperfections.
Every time I get nervous that prom is tonight, I pat my face with powder.
Pat. Pat. Pat.
Blur. Blur. Blur.
I shouldn’t be this anxious. All signs so far point to tonight being great.
First of all, it finally registered on my sister that Pa is back.
Pa asked Achi if they could spend the day together and my sister actually agreed.
They wouldn’t be “bonding” if Pa actually plans on disappearing later, right?
Pat. Pat. Pat.
My face is starting to have a striking resemblance to a clown’s when Ma opens my bedroom door.
When we showed her what we bought from the most stressful shopping trip of our lives, Ma scolded us for wasting money on dresses when she has perfectly good ones at home.
By this, it turns out she also meant I should wear Achi’s red ang pao dress from the ting hun.
The dress makes anyone look like a walking red envelope, but I’m not so opposed to the outfit choice this time. We need all the luck we can get.
Ma smiles at my reflection in the dresser mirror. “The hairstyle suits you.”
“You don’t think I look like an egg?”
I always wear my hair down, but the makeup artist also said that an updo might work better for my body’s proportions. It took me a second to realize that he was calling me short.
“A very pretty egg,” Ma teases, and she tells me to face the mirror again. She pulls out a golden necklace from a small blue jewelry box and tries it on me. “Think it goes with your dress?”
That’s when I notice the small butterfly pendant shining on my neckline.
“Your father gave this to me.”
My heart twists at the mention of Pa.
I don’t point out that I can feel Ma’s hands tremble when she fastens the clasp.
“I know you wanted him to be here for tonight…,” she says, and gazes at my reflection again.
“Baduy ba? Everyone used to wear this style back then. Ton picked the butterfly, too, since I kept listening to that Mariah Carey album.”
I adjust the butterfly so it’s centered. “It’s perfect, Ma,” I tell her, my eyes prickling at our reflection.
When I raise my phone to take a selfie of us, Ma asks, “You’re not posting that, right?”
“My account is private.”
“Kidnappers do not care about privacy, Nika.”
After I convince Ma that I’m not going to post our picture and will listen to her advice about how other people tagging me is a “security threat,” she finally agrees to a photo.
Her eyes are glistening when she smiles back at me. But her expression quickly changes as she inspects my face. “Why do you have so many powder blotches?”
“I don’t know,” I say, and bump the face powder container farther away from me.
Ma wipes her hands and grumbles about how she paid for a makeup artist who doesn’t even know how to blend. While she’s dabbing a sponge on my face, I ask her, “Did Pa give you the necklace during your prom?”
“Alam mo naman, your father, the romantic,” she says as she keeps dabbing. “He was worried at first that I’d get mad that he spent money on the necklace.”
“Did you?”
“Of course!” Ma says, and I laugh. “Your dad already used most of his allowance buying siopaos from me and then he splurges on jewelry?”
She shakes her head, but I can see her smiling. “But I made sure I wore that necklace when Buns by Beth opened.”
“For good luck?”
Ma does one last dab and scans my face to make sure the makeup is even. I think she didn’t hear my question until she breathes out, “Because I missed him.”
She keeps talking while she adjusts the bobby pins that are holding up my hair.
“Your sister keeps telling me to go for the franchising deal, but it doesn’t feel right to do all that without Ton. He was the one who kept telling me to dream bigger.” She sighs. “That man was always my biggest fan.”
Then why are you marrying someone else?
The question gets lost in my thoughts when we hear Auntie Baby’s voice from the living room. “Annika!” she calls out. “Your date is here!”
Which prompts my mother to make the most bizarre statement. “Going to prom with a manliligaw is a big step.”
“Seph isn’t my manliligaw,” I repeat for the umpteenth time.
“… Boyfriend?”
No, no. He’s definitely not that.
Is he?
Ma’s forehead creases. “What are you two, then?”
“Neighbors.” I stop and correct myself. “Well, friends, buddies.”
“Baby mentioned this to me…” Ma’s eyes narrow as she tries to follow. “That kids your generation have MOMOL buddies now.”
There’s no one in any generation who uses that term. No one!
My phone then lights up on the dresser and Ma notices the name of the contact calling me.
“I’ll just take this…” I excuse myself and escape another possible interrogation.
Seph and I already predicted that our families would make a big deal out of us going to prom together (not a date! a prom offer!), so he suggested that he call my phone to signal when he steps outside the unit so we can have a private moment without possible prying eyes from the Marie-tres.
I note the fact that my heart is racing from the rush of a well-organized plan, not from the excitement of seeing Seph.
In the grander scheme of things, being unsure if a boy likes me back is a blip, an event that’ll barely register when someone pens the biography of Annika Ilagan.
Now that I have the chance of getting Pa back, completing our family again, I’m not asking the universe to deliver anything else. This is it. Having Pa back is all I want.
I know firsthand that it’s dangerous to ask the universe for too many things.
When I open the door, Seph is standing there (in a suit!), waiting for me and cradling a red corsage in his hands.
He messaged about the color of my dress, but I didn’t realize he was asking so his corsage and tie could match. And I’m still processing the sight of Seph in a tie. I half expected him to show up to prom with his usual unbuttoned shirt and sando combo.
“New dress?” he asks, and I tear my eyes away from staring too long at his hair.
“Um.” My hand fixes the red strap that slips from my shoulder. “I borrowed this from Achi … It doesn’t fit so well in some areas…”
“It looks good.” He puffs out his cheeks and clears his throat. “You look good.”
My face immediately goes hot. “You look good too.”
Remember, Nika. We’re approaching things with logic today, not emotion.
God. But then the edges of Seph’s eyes crinkle, and he’s smiling at me the same way he always does—the smile that makes me stop overthinking and realize … Wait. Am I happy?
I close the front door behind us and he pulls me toward the emergency stairway beside the elevator. After we check that no one, not one family member (ghost or non-ghost), is lurking around, he pulls me in for a kiss.
While my forehead is pressed to his, I feel his hand graze my hair, then my whole body rings from his touch when he traces a path down my shoulders and arms.
“You know, I thought of a pun for your name too,” he whispers.
“If you say harmo-nika, there’s no way you’re going to prom with me.”
His chest rises when he laughs.
“Gusto Nika,” he says after a beat. “Get it? It sounds like gusto kita.”
“Disgusting.”
I roll my eyes at him, hiding how much hearing him say “I like you” means to me.
Seph reaches for my hand and plays with the hair tie on my wrist. “You’re always holding on to this.”
“It calms me down,” I tell him.
And I don’t know why I said it. Seph wasn’t even asking me a question. I could’ve ignored his comment, moved along, and carried on with the kissing. But now he’s looking at me like he expects that I have more to say.
“Whenever I had trouble sleeping as a kid, my dad used to do this.” I flip his palm open and tap the side of his wrist three times. “I don’t know why … It just made me feel safe.”
“And the hair tie reminds you of that?”
I remove it from my wrist and try to play it cool when I say the hair tie clashes with my outfit. “Never have I ever told anyone this.”
Seph dips his head to catch my eyes.
“Never have I ever thought we would actually happen, Ilagan.”
Does that mean we’re actually happening? Does he want to be together too?
The question is on the tip of my tongue, but then I think about ruining whatever’s happening right now. What’s so wrong about staying like this for a bit longer?
Seph asks if I’m all right and I answer him with another kiss.
Not to sound cocky, but how many people can say they’re at the brink of beating death while also making out with a cute guy?
Maybe the universe is still capable of good things after all.