It's in the Stars, It's in the FLAMES
A Short Not-So-High-School Love Story
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"Friends?! Only Friends?!" I exclaimed, rising from my chair, causing it to glide backward.
"Gosh, I felt my soul leave my body!" my friend uttered, startled by my outburst.
"What's th- Oh my gosh!" She grabbed my notebook and looked at it, arching an eyebrow.
"Hey, give it ba- " I protested, trying to retrieve the notebook from her grasp, but we were stunned, our eyes widened, as the name in the notebook -a name engraved in my thoughts countless times - emerged from our classroom door.
We returned to our seats, settling into a quite state.
"FLAMES? In college? You're cute," my friend whispered, chuckling.
I giggled softly, giving her a scolding glance.
I shifted my gaze to him, letting my eyes linger. He's a hockey player, effortlessly cool with his jersey and stick. The kind who turns heads with his bewitching smile and laid back attitude, melting any defense. I, on the other hand, am reserved, preferring the quiet comfort of pens and daydreams. An academic achiever, always buried in books.
In high school, I never quite understood the fuss about crushes and hushed affections. They say high school love is a treasure to hold dear, but to me, it felt distant, like a stranger, until him.
In a sea of faces, I'd search for him, my heart racing when our eyes finally met. I'd feign interest in my notes as he walked by, stealing secret glances, hoping he wouldn't see my flushed cheeks or trembling hands. Sometimes, I'd find excuses to be near him in crowded hallways, hiding in corners while secretly hoping he'd notice me. It all seemed silly, honestly.
Once, we were paired as dance partners during P.E. class, our fingers entwined. His gaze held mine, warmth spreading across my cheeks. I prayed it wasn't too obvious. During NSTP community service, I watched him care for and play with children. A smile gently curved upon my lips; he is warm and compassionate. While handing out relief goods, our hands met in a fleeting touch, sending shivers through my fingertips. Beneath the scorching sun, as we cleaned the assigned area, he handed me a bottle of water, washing away my weariness.
One rainy afternoon, I stood waiting for a jeep, drenched and shivering. Suddenly, he appeared, holding an umbrella over me, shielding me from the rain - a warmth amidst the downpour. Then, there was the time his team was on the brink of defeat. Arriving late, I watched from the stands, our eyes locking in a silent exchange. In that fleeting moment, touched by unseen force, he surged with strength, leading his team to victory. Is it mere surmise? I ponder, yet I know he was remarkable.
The subtle smiles, a borrowed pencil, short questions asked - each moment brimming with promise, like whispers of secrets between us.
Life has a way of bringing people together, aligning hearts at just the right time. Perhaps the reason I never experienced high school love was because I am meant to unfold it with him, even if it's six years overdue.
As I sit with my friend under the shade of a sprawling tree opposite the architecture building, I notice him approaching in the distance. My heartbeat quickens, a flutter of nerves dances in my stomach, making it hard to focus. Why is he coming this way? Is he heading towards us? What should I do?
Alright, stay calm.
Time seemed to slow as he stopped in front of us.
"Hey, uhm, sorry to bother, but do you have notes on Oblicon?" he asked.
I felt a blush creep up my cheeks.
"Yes, here, you can borrow it," I responded casually, handing over the notes as if I weren't nervous.
As he turned away, he looked back and called out to me again.
"Hey, I was hoping you could come watch the hockey finals?"
I was taken by surprise.
"I just need inspiration," he said softly, his lips curving into a gentle arc.
With a slow nod, my eyes softened.
Friends, Lovers, Attraction, Marriage, Enemies, Soulmates? Perhaps all, maybe none. But I'm staking on all six for us two.
・・・
Inspired by the Filipino film “Flames: The Movie” and the song “So High School” by Taylor Swift.
About the Creator
fleeting.serenics
penning tales of fleeting hope
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Comments (1)
Young love is always good to read about. Great story.