When our orders came, I grabbed mine and bolted out as fast as I could. The atmosphere in the boba store was intense; the people were staring at us like we were criminals of sorts. It was a suffocating feeling.

Feeling the fresh air did not ease me up. The brightness feels like it’s condescending; the sky and the sun are having a good day while I am not. I pierce my straw through the boba lid and take a sip. I am supposed to taste a sweet, tropical and milky flavor, but all I taste is a bland liquid substance and a chewy substance.

“Are you okay?” Wendy looks at me with worry.

Annoyed, I yell at her, “Did you have to do that? There are other ways of responding back to others and you had to do the worst way!”

Wendy furrows her brows. “Why are you sticking up for her? She was the one that called you weird when you’re not. Why defend someone who’s hurting you?”

“Slut-shaming a girl is not the right way to do it, though!”

“What was I supposed to do, then? Just sit back and listen to people see you as someone you’re not? You’re not mute. You’re not weird…”

Although her words are supportive, I see her looking away and grimacing. It’s like she regrets doing it. I think I’m being too harsh on her. She has good intentions, so why am I trying to go against it?

She’s right in a way. Why am I trying hard to defend a girl I don’t even know? Why do I care about some stranger? I should be caring about Wendy more than her.

I realize that I haven’t moved on from the past. The pain I had experienced all those years ago warped me into this person who cared about appeasing the people around him. That was why I did my best to please my parents. That was why I did my best to study like a machine even if it did not please me. I wanted people to look at me favorably. I knew what it was like to be viewed unfavorably.

“I’m sorry.” Apologizing is all I can do and say.

“Why are you apologizing?” Wendy seems flabbergasted.

“I know you were defending me with good intentions and I had failed to see it until now.” My words seem to have upset her. I became worried.

“You don’t need to apologize. If anything, I need to do it.”

She has a sad smile; she looks hurt. Did I hurt her? Guilt pours onto me. I regret getting mad at her now.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing this time?”

“For hurting you. I should be thankful for your help.”

My response leaves her surprised. “Do I look hurt?”

“Yes. Your face looks hurt. Like I’ve hurt you with my words.”

Wendy looks away, avoiding my gaze. “I’m not hurt by you. I just have a tendency to fixate on my own mistakes and then wallow in guilt because of it. I know that girl is a stranger and I shouldn’t care if I hurt her, but it bothers me.”

Wendy is like me. We both fixate over mistakes or issues that affect us and hurt ourselves because of it. I think this is the first time I’ve seen this side of Wendy. She’s usually so assertive and confident. Seeing her so vulnerable and sensitive is novel, but I like it.

After she takes a sip of her own boba, she asks me if I want to head back home. I reply that I do. The car ride back home is quiet. I look out the window; the soft sound of piano music serves as background noise. The mango boba still tastes tasteless.

The anxiousness within me eases up. I feel calm now. In fact, I am strangely happy. Why am I happy? Is it because I saw a new side of Wendy? Is it because she’s someone like me? Is this what having a kindred spirit feels like?

I turn to look at Wendy. Her side profile looks beautiful. The shape of her nose bridge is angular. Her lashes are longer than I assumed. Her lips are a lot plumper than from the front. Her jaws are a lot sharper from the side. Her neck is long. The overall size of her head is small. The sight of it makes me happy.

Wendy notices my gaze and gives me a meek, nervous smile as she fixates back on the road. The way she smiled is cute.

I’m sure there is someone out there waiting to become your happiness…your light…I’m confident you’ll find them someday. Eura’s words echo in my head.

Wendy is someone who has a lot of pain and sorrow like me. While I’ve been surrounded by darkness without light, she is like light that conceals some sort of darkness within her. I want to know what caused her so much pain. Are her experiences the same as mine? Are they different? I want to know. Once I do, I want to help her like she does with me.

I can feel my heart skipping a beat once again. I concede defeat. I surrender this battle of denial. I like Wendy, romantically.