Chapter 68

Chapter 68
I was taken aback when I saw a little girl sitting on the swing. Her dress was white, so the mud that coated it was clearly visible. My forehead creased. She looked like she was about my age, but… why had I never seen her in our subdivision before?

Driven by curiosity, I walked toward her. She was gently swinging, her head bowed. She didn’t seem to care about how she looked. Her white flat shoes were also covered in mud. What...?

“Hey, muddy girl,” I called out, trying to get her attention. I didn’t know her name, so I figured I’d call her whatever came to mind.

She lifted her head and looked at me with an inquisitive expression. My mouth fell open. She was wearing a white headband, and her face… she looked like an angel. She was beautiful.

“Why don’t you sit beside me?” she said with a smile, revealing a perfect set of white teeth.

I instinctively did as she asked and sat on the swing next to her. She looked at me and smiled again. I was starting to feel a little strange. Why was she smiling like that?

“You look happy,” I commented.

Her smile widened. “But you look muddy at the same time,” I added.

She pouted. “I slipped on the muddy part of the playground, so now I’m all dirty. But I remembered something my mom said—she told me to be glad even when things go wrong. So… I’m happy,” she said, smiling again.

I winced. “Isn’t that a bit too literal? You’re weird,” I said, shaking my head.

“Many people say that—that I’m weird.” She pouted again. “But it’s okay. At least I’m pretty,” she smirked and winked at me. I winced again. Was she really just a little girl?

“Who told you you’re pretty?” I teased.

“Lots of people. They say I look like a Barbie doll,” she said proudly. “How about you? Do you think I’m pretty?” She blinked her eyes at me, almost too beautifully.

I gulped. Okay, I couldn’t deny it—she really was pretty and did look like a doll. But it was too embarrassing to admit that, so...

“How could someone muddy like you be pretty? As far as I know, pretty girls are always clean and elegant. You’re the complete opposite,” I said, playing the role of a tough critic.

She stared at me. But after a minute, she smiled. “Your eyes say something else. I see admiration in them. Admit it—you think I’m pretty,” she said, crossing her arms and legs like a boastful businesswoman.

I sighed. “Tsk. Think whatever you want. But no, I don’t think you’re pretty.” I crossed my arms and legs to match her posture.

“By the way, my admirer…” My eyes widened when she called me that. I was about to speak when she asked, “What’s your name?”

“I just turned eight today. How about you? How old are you?” I replied without hesitation.

“I’m seven. Happy birthday!” she greeted me with a smile. “And your name is...?”

“I’m Ivan. And you?”

“I’m Rigella,” she replied, smiling. “Nice to meet you, Van.”

“It’s Ivan, not just Van,” I corrected her. “Nice meeting you too, Ri... ah, whatever. Rella?”

“It’s Rigella, not just Rella, Vanvan,” she chuckled. “I don’t like your name. I’ll call you Van as many times as I want.”

“Then I’ll call you Rella too. I don’t like your long name, so I’ll call you Rella however many times I want,” I mimicked her.

“Suit yourself…” she pouted.

“Do you speak Tagalog?” I asked. I’d been speaking in English, thinking she didn’t know Tagalog.

“Obviously,” she rolled her eyes. “I’m Filipino, so of course I can speak Tagalog,” she said with a curious expression. Okay, she’s too cute.

“I just wasn’t sure, so I used English,” I chuckled. “Tell me more about yourself. Use Tagalog, okay?”

We talked, we laughed, and we enjoyed each other’s company. That muddy girl was fun to be with. She made me forget the pain and sadness in my heart whenever she made me laugh. She often talked about God. We were compatible. We became best friends.

One day, our moms met. We invited them to join us for ice cream. Our moms hit it off quickly. They even joked that we should get married someday. Rigella just laughed and said she was too young for that. But me? I stayed silent. Because deep inside... that’s what I wanted too. I wanted her to be my wife someday.

Even our dads met. At first, things were awkward between them because they were business rivals. But eventually, they became friends. I don’t know how many prayers I said to make that happen, but it was all worth it.

For almost two years, our families were close. My dad even started being nicer to me. Sometimes, we went on vacations together—with her family, of course. Those were the happiest moments of my life. I learned that she loved the water. She said it calmed her.

“What if I leave you, Vanvan?” she suddenly asked one day as we sat on the swings.

My forehead creased. “What? Are you planning to leave?” A wave of sadness hit me.

She turned to look at me. “I’m asking you a question, and you answer with a question. It’s hard talking to you sometimes. You’re already ten,” she said, shaking her head.

“And you’re already nine,” I retorted. “But seriously, are you leaving?”

She nodded slowly. “Yeah. My grandmother’s sick, and Mom said we have to take care of her. No one else in the family wants to, so we’re moving somewhere far away…”

I couldn’t say anything. For years, we’d been inseparable. She even promised we’d graduate together. But now… she was leaving?

“When will you come back?” I asked, needing a real answer.

She shrugged. “I don’t know… I don’t even know where we’re going. But in case I never come back…” she looked straight at me, “will you still find me?”

My lips parted. So there was a chance she’d never return? “Of course. You’re my best friend. I always want to be with you.”

“I’m just your best friend, huh?” she pouted. “I’m disappointed. I’m finally admitting it—I like you, Vanvan. You’re my crush,” she smiled. I just stared at her.

Then, unexpectedly, she ran off, teasing me with her smile. I closed my eyes and sighed. She just confessed her feelings and then ran away. Great.

I bit my lower lip to stop myself from smiling. I liked her too. The feeling was mutual.

We spent three more days together before she left. Her mom called and said they had to leave earlier than planned. I still remember her last words:

“Promise me, Van. After fifteen years, you’ll marry me. I want to be with you forever, and I know you want that too. See you soon… and goodbye.”

After she left, my life returned to its usual routine: study, eat, sleep. I worked hard to be top of the class. I wanted my dad to be proud of me.

At graduation, I was the valedictorian. Everyone was happy—except Dad. He didn’t even show up. He was too busy with work. But I was used to it.

I got a lot of gifts. My mom gave me a watch. Dad sent an iPad—through the maid, of course. But at least he gave me something.

Two years passed and Rigella still hadn’t returned. I saved money. I had to find her, or I’d go crazy. And I did. I found her in Bulacan. She was in her third year of high school, a year behind me.

With my mom’s blessing, I moved to Bulacan. My dad didn’t care, so I left Manila behind.

I enrolled in her school. At first, I kept to myself. I hated crowds. But I got recruited to the soccer team after someone saw me playing alone. They quickly welcomed me.

I met Seymour, our captain, and his friends Xyleus and Creed. We became close—especially Seymour, who called me his ideal friend.

Seymour was the kind of guy everyone admired. A great player, a high achiever, and kind-hearted.

Then everything changed.

I saw Rigella… hugging Seymour. Laughing with him. Just like we used to.

It hurt. A lot.

I asked Seymour about her. He smiled and told me he loved her. They had known each other since they were ten. He’d liked her from the moment he saw her.

I felt like I was being crushed. My best friend loved the girl I loved.

I wanted to approach Rigella after we graduated, but now… I couldn’t. I didn’t want to hurt Seymour.

Even if it meant giving her up, I had to. Seymour was a good friend. He accepted me despite everything.

“You really like her, huh?” I asked him during a water break at soccer practice.

He smirked. “More than like. I love her.”

I clenched my jaw. “Why her, bro? Why not someone else?”

He looked at me. “Wait… why are you asking like that?” he laughed nervously.

I forced a smile. “Just wondering. There are girls better than her, you know.” Liar. No one was better than Rigella.

He laughed. “You’re hiding something. Tell me—do you like her?”

I couldn’t speak. I was guilty.

“I’m not interested in her, Seym. She’s all yours,” I finally said. I swallowed the lie like poison.

He smirked. “Good answer, bro. I was just testing you. Bro code—you don’t go after a girl your friend likes.”

Damn. I’m sorry, Seymour. I lied. Because I don’t just like Rigella. I love her.

Graduation came. I tried to be happy. I got a girlfriend—Larisse. She was a great cook, and I liked that about her.

But I still loved Rigella.

Seymour gave his speech as valedictorian. I was the salutatorian. Our adviser said it should’ve been me, but rules didn’t allow it. Still, I was proud.

Mom came. Dad didn’t. No surprise there.

I saw Rigella hug her mom. She looked so happy. But me? I felt empty. I never got to tell her that I was her childhood friend—the one she wanted to marry.

Tsk. Maybe coming to Bulacan was pointless. I failed to do what I came here for. Everything fell apart. Everything was meaningless.