Chapter 27 Effort

Chapter 27 Effort
The kitchen smelled of garlic and soy sauce, the kind of comforting scent that always reminded me of home. I stood by the counter with my sleeves rolled up, staring at the ingredients like I was facing an exam I hadn’t studied for.

“Mom,” I called, glancing over at her as she chopped onions with practiced ease. “How do I start this again? Garlic or onion first?”

She let out a fond, amused laugh. “You’ve asked me that a hundred times already, Lucas. Onions first, then garlic. If you put them in together, the garlic will burn.”

I shook my head at myself. I should have memorized the order by now—I’d asked her so many times. But the nerves had wiped everything from my mind.

“Right,” I mumbled, picking up the spoon. “I just don’t want this to burn. If it turns out bad, Ethan might think I can’t even cook.”

Ever since his birthday, we had fallen back into our routine. I continued picking him up and dropping him off at work, and sometimes I stayed at Angela’s aunt’s restaurant just to make sure he was okay. Just like I told him, I wouldn’t make promises—I would show him through my actions.

So here I was, someone who barely knew how to cook, forcing myself to learn anyway. For him.

“Ah, so it’s for Ethan, huh?” Mom said, raising an eyebrow when I looked at her.

I tried to shrug it off, pretending I didn’t hear the teasing in her voice. “Not really. I just thought… he probably doesn’t have time to eat properly at school.”

As I stirred the pot, the scent of simmering sauce rising with the steam, my mind drifted back to the day after Ethan’s birthday when I had told Mom about him.

I had stood awkwardly in the living room while she worked on her laptop. After a long silence, I finally blurted out, “Mom, I think I like someone.”

She hadn’t looked surprised. She simply smiled, soft and knowing, like she had been waiting for me to say it.

“Who is it?” she asked gently.

I didn’t answer right away, but she didn’t need me to. She could already see it in my face.

That night, I told her everything—how Ethan wasn’t just someone I liked, but someone who made me want to be better. Gentler. More patient. More sure of myself. How I planned to tell him one day, and how I wanted to do things the right way: slow, steady, and honest.

Mom had listened with soft eyes. “Then take care of that feeling, Lucas,” she said. “If you’re going to love someone, do it with kindness. That’s the only kind that lasts.”

“Lucas, it’s burning!”

I snapped back to reality and saw the onions and garlic already turning black in the pot. I quickly turned off the stove and dumped everything into the sink.

“Are you okay?” Mom asked calmly.

I nodded, then closed the distance between us and pulled her into a tight hug. She stiffened for a second in surprise, but soon I felt her hand gently rubbing my back.

Coming out was never easy—to say out loud who you are and who you love, especially to family. The fear could eat you alive: the what-ifs, the imagined rejection, disappointment, or silence.

But I guess I was one of the lucky ones.

When I told Mom, she didn’t flinch. There was no shock, no anger—just that gentle smile she always wore, like she had already known, like nothing had changed. I still remembered her words: “Lucas, love is love. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”

That moment stayed with me.

Not everyone gets that kind of acceptance. Some people have to fight for it, beg for it, or hide just to feel safe. But I didn’t have to. I had her. And maybe that was why I wasn’t afraid anymore to feel what I felt for Ethan. Because if my own mother could look at me and still see her son… then maybe I could finally believe that love—no matter what form it took—could still be right.

“Thank you for accepting me, Mom.”

She pulled back from the hug and kissed my forehead. “Of course, Lucas. I love you and your brother Dave so much. Seeing you both happy makes me happy too.”

I nodded. “I’ll cook again, Mom. It’s already 10 a.m. Ethan’s lunch is at 12.”

“Mmm,” she hummed, clearly unconvinced. “You’re such a thoughtful boy. But make sure you save something for yourself too, okay? Don’t give everything away.”

I laughed. “Noted, Mom. But can you help me first? I’m scared this menudo is going to turn into soup.”

She joined me at the stove, adding a pinch of salt and stirring beside me. The sound of sizzling oil filled the kitchen, warm and comforting. For a few quiet minutes, it was just the two of us—me stirring nervously while she smiled at how seriously I was taking it.

She still teased me sometimes, saying I was about to become an instant dad because of Ethan’s son. I regretted telling her everything, but deep down it didn’t matter. What mattered was that she accepted me. So I would keep going with what I wanted.

By the time we finished, two neat lunchboxes sat on the table. I had cooked adobo—my favorite dish since I was a kid—and menudo, which Elijah suggested when I called to ask what Ethan liked.

I smiled to myself, proud but still a little nervous. “I just hope he likes it,” I whispered as I packed everything into a paper bag.

After cleaning the kitchen, I ran upstairs, still faintly smelling of soy sauce. I left the bag on my desk and headed straight for the shower.

The cold water jolted me awake. I closed my eyes and let my thoughts drift where they always did—back to him.

I didn’t have classes today and had planned to ask Ethan out, but he said he had two classes, so I didn’t push. Instead, I decided to bring him lunch at school.

When I stepped out of the shower, I threw on a clean white shirt, jeans, and sneakers.

Before leaving my room, I checked myself in the mirror. My face clearly showed how excited I was. This was probably the first time I felt genuinely happy about going to school.

The corridors were loud—students laughing, lockers slamming, sneakers squeaking on the floor. I walked past familiar faces until I reached the classroom I was looking for.

Through the glass window, I saw him.

Ethan sat near the back, head bent over his notebook as he scribbled notes. His hair fell slightly over his forehead, and sunlight streamed in from the window, making him look calm. Effortlessly calm.

When the bell rang, students poured out, voices overlapping. I waited by the door until Ethan stepped out, adjusting the strap of his bag.

And just like that, everything else faded.

His hair was a little messy from leaning over his notebook for too long, but it suited him. There was a faint crease between his brows, like he was still thinking about whatever he’d been writing. The morning light caught the side of his face perfectly.

He looked tired but calm. Ordinary to anyone else—but never to me.

There was something about him that always drew my eyes, even in the simplest moments.

Maybe it was the way he carried himself—quiet, steady, never needing to fill every silence. Or maybe it was simply that every time I saw him, something inside me settled.

When his eyes finally found mine, that familiar flutter returned—the kind that was both exciting and terrifying.

“Lucas?” Surprise flashed across his face. “Don’t you have classes today?” he asked, noticing I wasn’t in uniform.

I lifted the paper bag and grinned. “Nope. But I thought I’d bring you lunch. You probably haven’t eaten properly again.”

He blinked, then gave me that small, quiet smile that always hit me harder than it should. “You went through all that trouble?”

I stepped closer. “It’s nothing. As long as it’s for you,” I said, winking.

His face turned red instantly. “You’re so corny.”

“Blake’s cornier,” I shot back.

He couldn’t hold back his laughter, and soon other students were staring at us.

He had agreed to let me court him, but every time I saw him with Blake, something still twisted uncomfortably inside me.

“What did you bring?” he asked once he stopped laughing.

“Menudo and adobo,” I answered proudly.

He stared at me, frowning. “You sound so proud. Is it even edible?”

“Of course. You can eat this anytime,” I said with another wink.

He moved to smack my arm, and I quickly stepped back.

“You’re getting feisty now, huh?” I teased. “I didn’t know you were like this.”

His left eyebrow rose, a smirk playing on his lips. “Maybe because you’re always staring at my face.”

“When your face looks like that, anyone would stare.”

He shook his head, but the corner of his mouth twitched like he was fighting a bigger smile. “Come on, let’s eat in the cafeteria.”

We found a table near the window where sunlight spilled across the trays. The cafeteria buzzed around us, but I could only focus on Ethan sitting across from me—relaxed, a little curious.

“Menudo or adobo?” I asked as I opened the containers.

“Any other choices?” He raised an eyebrow.

I smirked. “I’m one of the choices. Want me instead?”

He immediately looked down, cheeks flushing. Well, there was nothing wrong with what I said—I was just giving him options.

“Try the menudo first,” I said, noticing he couldn’t meet my eyes anymore. I placed the container with rice and menudo in front of him. “It’s good.”

He took a bite and paused. My heart pounded as I waited.

Then he smiled. “It’s delicious. You really cooked this?”

“Of course,” I said proudly. “Mom helped with the seasoning, but I did most of the cooking.”

Ethan took a forkful of the adobo next. My stomach twisted—not from hunger, but from watching him savor it, eyes half-closed, brow slightly furrowed in concentration.

I had already eaten with Mom before leaving the house, so I just watched him. He tried the menudo again, scooping each bite carefully, as if every mouthful deserved attention. Steam curled between us under the cafeteria lights, and for a moment the noisy room faded. I was only aware of him eating, tasting, reacting—completely unaware of how tense I had become just from watching.

A faint smile touched his lips when he glanced up at me, and my chest loosened. His satisfaction didn’t just fill the space between us—it settled inside me too.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” he asked, lifting a spoonful of menudo and rice.

“Are you going to feed me?” I teased.

His entire face turned red again as he glared at me. “Stop that, Lucas. If I can’t hold back anymore…”

He continued eating, and I stopped teasing him, afraid he might actually get annoyed.

I busied myself with my phone until I saw a message from Kuya.

Dave Anderson Buenavista
Do you have free time? I would like to talk to you.

A wave of nervousness hit me. I couldn’t think of anything I had done wrong, but the message still made me anxious. I sighed and shook my head.

“You okay?” Ethan asked.

I looked up at him. Worry was clear on his face, but my attention caught on a small smudge at the corner of his mouth.

Without thinking, I leaned in closer. My hand brushed lightly against his cheek as I wiped it away.

Ethan froze, eyes widening with surprise. I gave him a small, teasing smile. He blinked, caught between amusement and something else I couldn’t name.

“Got it,” I murmured softly, returning to my seat.

He was still frowning at me.

I chuckled. “I’m fine. Kuya just messaged me.” I handed him my phone.

He glanced at it quickly and went back to eating.

Suddenly, shouting erupted near the entrance. My eyes widened when I saw Caleb throwing punches at a taller guy. Beside them, Martin stood casually, just watching.

“Wait here,” I told Ethan.

I hurried over and pushed through the crowd surrounding the fight.

“Caleb!” I shouted.

I tried to grab his arm, but he wouldn’t stop. Before I could pull him away, his fist flew again, and I saw blood at the corner of the other guy’s lip.

I didn’t hesitate anymore. I gripped Caleb’s arm tightly and dragged him away from the crowd.

“Lucas, let go!” he yelled, struggling. “I’m not done with that guy!”

Since I was bigger and taller, he had no choice but to let me pull him away.

When we reached our table, I shoved him into the empty chair across from me.

“Are you out of your mind?” I snapped.

Less than a minute later, he tried to stand up again, saying he wasn’t finished.

I blocked his path immediately. “You really want to continue this in school?” I asked sarcastically.

He didn’t answer, just ran a hand over his face in frustration. My gaze shifted to Martin, who was sitting calmly beside Ethan, eating like nothing had happened.

Martin noticed me staring and looked up. “Chill, bro. I’m not stealing him.”

I sighed. This guy was unbelievable. Did I even say he was trying to steal Ethan?

“What happened?” I asked him seriously.

“I don’t know either,” he answered calmly while still eating.

“You don’t know? Then why were you just watching?”

He paused and looked at me. “I really don’t know, dude. I was just coming here because I was hungry, then I saw Caleb fighting. I was going to help, but some guy pulled me aside to bet on who would win. So I just bet on it too. Money is money,” he said, laughing.

Even Caleb, who had been sulking in his chair, suddenly burst out laughing at Martin’s explanation.

“You’re actually proud of—"

I didn’t finish because Ethan stood up. “I still have anatomy class.”

He walked over to me and smiled. “Thanks for the food.”

He was about to walk away when I stopped him.

“I’ll walk you there.”

He shook his head. “It’s okay. Talk to your friends first.”

I glanced at the two idiots. They were clearly trying to hold back their laughter.

I opened my mouth to say something else, but Ethan turned around quickly and walked away.

I immediately pulled out my phone and sent him a message.

Lucas Buenavista
Let’s go home together later. I’ll wait for you.