Letting my imagination run wildly..

We stepped out and he steered me towards the brightly-lit parking lot behind the cafe. As we rounded the corner, I spotted a black Volvo parked beside a silver Porsche, and a white Sentra about two spaces from them. On the other side, a black Ford Everest was sitting quietly across the Porsche and a blue Vios was on the very far corner, isolated from everyone else.


I started in mild surprise as I looked them over; a nice set of wheels we got here, I mused to myself. If a thief were to stumble along this area even he'd have a hard time in deciding which of these beauties he should take. I was kind of expecting to see more cars since the cafe was full, but I assumed that the rest of them walked instead. Probably to save on gas.


I never thought for a minute that the students from my university weren't well-off enough to have their own cars. I'm just used to hearing people complain about how crowded the trains were and that the buses were too slow from stopping at almost every street. haven't really heard anyone ramble about how their engines overheated in the middle of a highway and had to call for a tow truck before anyone could recognize them, or how they got held up in traffic because some conceited driver decided to take the opportunity to check his teeth for any leftovers of the previous meal.


Or maybe I have, but I wasn't really paying attention. It's possible, right?


It was then I realized that Anthony hasn't led me towards any of the cars. We were standing at one end of the parking lot; The Sentra was the closest to us, but not close enough to indicate that it was his.


I felt Anthony shift his weight as he turned to me. He caught my concentrated expression.


"What are you thinking?" he suddenly asked.


I had to admit, the way he looked when he was curious, when his eyes scrunch up and the way his nose wrinkles, is a little adorable. No, charming. No, wait, appealing. Oh, never mind. I think you know what I mean.


"Where's the chariot?" I said, teasing him a bit.


"Take your pick", he gestured towards the innocent cars with a careless wave of his hand.


I turned to him with my brows pulled down together. "They're all yours?" I said skeptically.


"I wish", he said with a laugh. "But can you guess which one's mine?"


"What's in it for me if I get it right?"


Anthony tilted his head back and gazed thoughtfully at the inky-black sky.
"Well", he said as he slowly looked back at me. "If you get it right on the first"--he emphasized that particular word--"guess, then I'll think about it. If not, then, sorry".


He looked so smug that I wanted to punch the living daylights out of him. I'm not really a violent person, but a little sadistic fantasizing won't hurt. So he thinks I won't get it right? We'll just see about that.


"Okay, I'm game", I said confidently as I squared my shoulders; and as I did so, I felt my fingers loosen their grip on something. I started. I completely forgot that we were holding hands; and as soon as realization dawned on me, an icy chill spread from my palm down to my fingertips at the sudden absence of contact. I wanted to move closer just so I could touch him again because the cold sensation wouldn't go away; but my pride stomped on my pathetic want before it completely took over. From the corner of my eye, I saw Anthony glance down at the space where our hands were once intertwined with a slight frown gracing his lips. Butterflies erupted from the pit of my stomach, which confused me. Where the heck did they come from?


"He wanted what you wanted", a little voice in my head said.


"Which is?" I answered.


"Don't play coy, my dear. You know what it is", it replied, as it trailed away into the depths of my brain.


Suddenly I felt light-headed. Okay, so I did like it when we were holding hands and I'm pretty damn sure that he liked it, too. Naturally, when the thing we want is taken away from us, we feel disappointed. Simple logic. So what's the big deal?


I became aware that a tense silence descended on us like a fog, separating us slowly though we can see but a little of each other; I took a deep breath and took a step forward, the words of his challenge echoing in my ears. From my peripheral vision I saw him flex his fingers on his left hand, the one I released, as if preparing to grab my hand again at the slightest hint of opportunity, before he was completely out of my line of sight. But I still felt his burning gaze at the back of my neck.


My legs led me towards the white Sentra. I let my eyes stray to the license plate, then to the hood, then to the dashboard--or, at least, what I could make out of it with the limited lighting in that area. There was a small, white teddy bear near the steering wheel, it's black eyes seemed to follow my every move. After seeing nothing out of the ordinary that would somehow connect it with the boy who was standing just a few feet away from me, I moved on to the Porsche. But even though my eyes and half my brain were busily concentrating at the task at hand, my heart and the other half of my brain refused to let my curiosity rest.


Has it really been that long since Chris and I broke up? Somehow it felt longer; years, decades, millenia, eons ago. Was it long enough for me to miss the perks of having a boyfriend?


I've hung out with a lot of guys since our break-up. Take note, I said hung-out, NOT date; and none of them came close to what I was feeling for Anthony. I don't know how to explain it in a better way, but it's like we--connected. That's the best I can come up with at the moment. I can't think straight when the two halves of my brain are working on two different things.


I thought back to what happened a while ago and I tried to recall all the emotions I felt and I think I can come up with an explanation.


Maybe I do miss having a boyfriend, though I'm too proud to admit it to myself. Maybe I've been too busy trying to stitch up the hole in my heart to notice that things that I've been missing even when they've been under my nose all this time. I realized that I was lying to myself when I was saying that I was happy being single.


Maybe I've been too blind to the truth that was already staring at me in the face: I was lonely.


I haven't forgotten my friends, of course. I'm not that heartless. I love them to death. But..


There's something that they can't give me, and that is the love that only two people can share and partake of. Not the brotherly-sisterly love that we freely give each other, but the kind of love that can be expressed with just a look, a smile, a touch, a wave, and yet, it could still mean more than any clever word known to man.


A romance. A sappy-passionate-over-the-top-romance that would make Shakespeare proud.


I know its too early to think of such things, but it actually just made things easier for me. Suppressing and denying my feelings would leave me disoriented, but now that I'm being honest with myself, its like breathing the air for the first time after holding your breath under water for as long as your lungs would allow you.


I couldn't help but smile a little at the way he held my hand and how he seemed disappointed when I let go. It's his fault, if he didn't dare me then maybe--just maybe--we'd still be holding hands right now. But then again, aren't things going a bit too, I dunno, fast? I mean, how long have we known each other? Four days? And I've only seen him a few times since that Saturday in Pizza Hut.


"He likes you", a little voice in my head said silkily.


I would have laughed out loud at the absurdity of such a thing, but after the past few days, I don't think I have the heart to laugh about it anymore. Everything seems to make sense now. Is my heart ready for this? Am I ready for this?


What are my feelings for him, exactly? Some people might say that it's still too soon to make assumptions, but I'm only being cautious. I hate not knowing the answers to my own questions so I tend to spend more time thinking about them than worrying about anything else.


Just the fact that I temporarily forgot that we were holding hands says more than how much can Einstein comprehend with his intellect. The fact that I wanted to acknowledge for myself that simple gesture was enough to drop whatever doubts I had of him from the beginning. Subconsciously, I was waiting for a sign, any sign, that showed that he wanted me.


That he wanted me.


As much as I wanted him.


I smiled to myself as I leaned in for a closer look through the Ford Everest's window. Luckily my hair fell past my shoulder, completely covering the side of my face that Anthony could have seen. I surveyed myself critically, searching for something within that would convince me that somehow, I was going in the right direction and that I'm willing to undergo anything that will certify that. Chris is out of the picture, and here's someone who I may have a chance at actually liking. Or even loving.


When I drew back, I smiled a little bit. Yes, maybe I am ready.


I made a show of trying to see what was inside before I straightened up again, keeping the "Okay, that's that" expression glued to my face while sneaking glances in his direction, anticipating his reactions. So far he only watched me move from car to car without saying or doing anything. He just looked as preoccupied as I felt.


I skipped over to the last car, which was the Volvo, and carefully peered through the dark window. I mentally counted to five before I moved to the opposite window. After a few more seconds, I stood up with a sigh while slowly walking away from the car, but keeping my eyes locked on it a little longer than the rest.


I positioned myself in front of him, but at a good distance away. He hasn't moved since I last left him, and his face betrayed no hint of emotion that would give away the answer to his dare. I was still surrounded by the cars, but he was all I saw.


Anthony cocked an eyebrow. "Well?"


"Well, what?" I said carelessly, feigning innocence.


"Have you guessed?" he smirked as he folded his arms across his chest.


"Guessed? Ohhhh", I said slowly, as if I just realized something. "So that's what I was doing!" A short laugh escaped my lips. "But I already know which one's yours", I continued.


His smirk faltered, much to my satisfaction; but he quickly composed himself. "You only have one chance", he reminded me.


I shrugged before turning my back on him. I walked with slow, deliberate steps towards the Ford Everest; but before I could get any closer, I turned and went for the Sentra. But when I was less than a foot away from the said car, I twirled and went for the Porsche. This time, I let my finger slide across the shiny hood, taking as long as I could. As soon as I lifted my finger, I made my way to the Vios.


I crossed my arms as I leaned casually against it's side. I faked a huge yawn, stretching my arms above my head. And as I put them down, I slammed one hand hard against the hood, setting off the alarm. I tried not to seem surprised at the sudden noise that sliced through the silence so I merely glanced down at the flashing lights, pretending not to care.


Suddenly, the lights ceased and there was silence once more.


The smile was already on my face before I turned to see Anthony standing a few feet away from me with his hand outstretched, holding a tiny key chain, his thumb still on the button for the alarm.


The smile was already on my face before I turned to see Anthony standing a few feet away from me, with his hand outstretched, holding a tiny key chain, his thumb still on the button on the remote control.


Now it was my turn to look smug; and needless to say, I deserved it more than he did.


"Impressive", he said, a smile tugging at his lips.


I shrugged and tried to act as if I couldn't care less. "It was a no-brainer, really".


"What gave it away, then?"


I led him to the back of his car and pointed to the back window. There, a black and blue jersey was being held up by little suction cups that blared--ANTHONY 21--in bold white letters.


He smacked his hand against his forehead and let out a roar of laughter. "I totally forgot about that!"


"Someone's getting old" I sang.


"Ha, ha", he said sarcastically. Then he walked to the front and opened the door to the passenger seat. "Shall we?"


"What about my prize?" I asked, standing beside him.


"Don't worry, I'm keeping my promise".


I shrugged. "Okay, if you say so", I said as I slid into the seat. He closed the door and walked briskly to the driver's seat.


"Seatbelts", he said as he got in.


I obeyed, clicking the seatbelt in response. He revved the engine as he flashed a smile in my direction.


"All right, we're off!".