It was 30 minutes before my afternoon class, and that sadly means I’ll have to put up with the tempest once again outside the walls of this coffee shop. The aroma of the coffees served each time is what makes me keep sane when I could’ve been unconsciously dancing in front of the university gates due to insanity. That tempest Kaizer was nowhere to be found in my line of sight, and that made me feel a bit of relief in my body. I removed the beret from my head as I signaled Luke that my shift is over for the morning. As I was about to enter the work area, Gale suddenly walked outside with another batch of coffee orders.

“You don’t have any classes today, Gale?” I plead with my puppy eyes, hopefully saying yes so that I could excuse myself on car tolls and Kaizer himself. Gale looked at the wall clock just right above him after he placed the tray on the counter. Meanwhile Luke had to work double time now that I had to end my shift since he will need to wait for the other guy to arrive from God knows where the fuck he lives.

“Hmm . . . my class inconveniently starts at two.” He looked at me in the eye as if he wanted to apologize that he couldn’t.

“No, no,” I held both of my hands to stop him from saying sorry for something he could not control. “It’s okay, I just thought you had. Carry on then.” I laughed nervously before heading inside the work area. No one is left there except for a small puddle of brownish-white milk that got poured accidentally by Kaizer when he made a café au lait. When I entered the locker room, I saw Kaizer. His chiseled body shined bright with the fluorescent light that shined on the room. It was the same body that I defiled a week ago. Yet there was something that icked me off.

Bitch, he was wearing my boxers!

That was when I remembered that I should have given him his when I accidentally wore it out of haste when Aunt Carla called me back home. While she did give me an earful of words about how this and that could lead to this and that, blah, blah, blah, I could not even understand anything beyond her Cry of Balintawak. She had me prepare myself within twenty minutes after she calmed down. Thank heavens, I said. I thought she’d do a literal opera if this keeps up any longer than needed. I went upstairs and into my room so that I could undress myself, and when I got to do so . . . I saw myself wearing the most flamboyant rainbow briefs I have ever seen. It even has a slit in the back for the ass! I laughed my guts out that Aunt Carla knocked on my door to ask whether I’m okay or should she summon a Catholic priest to exorcise the 77 devils that resides in my head already.

Now, seeing this man wearing my boxers as if it’s his property makes me want to shove his gay briefs to his face. Which I won’t because I’m a decent human being and I don’t encourage any v—

“Does my body look appetizing to you, Seymour?”

“Go fuck yourself, you rotten piece of shit.” I went towards my locker and opened it, only to produce a small pouch of paper bag in my hand before tossing it right smack at his face. I heard a small “Aw!” from him as he tried to catch it but to no avail. He opened the bag, and his face turned red as ketchup as he saw the cursed briefs and threw them back in my direction.

“Jesus Christ! Why the fuck you have those?”

“At least I washed them off for you! And if anything,”—I pointed towards the coveted boxers—“I never wore them again unlike someone. Oh, and mind you, I know my boxers pretty well.”

“Don’t blame me, Art; boxers are kinda comfy than jockstraps, though. And we’re just the same waistline too, so yeah.”

“Will that supposed to make me better?”

He grinned. “I’ll give it to you, okay? Maybe after a few weeks’ time?” I flipped the bird at him after hearing that.

“Huwag na, iyo na lang. Kadiri.”

“Okay, then.” I shook my head at the coffee-brained four-eyes in boxers. I placed the beret inside the locker and out the satchel it goes. I took my ID and laced it against my neck before spraying myself with eau de parfum, courtesy of the one and only Roxanna Caseys. It was kind of a strong and deep masculine scent that I felt confident to wear. But from my peripheral vision I noticed that it turned Kaizer’s head as he sniffed the whereabouts of the source.

“Never smelled that scent since you wore that during graduation in junior high. You’ve been wearing a Roi Versailles that time.”

Surely that little detail shook me. “How the fuck did you know? No, rather, how the fuck you even knew what perfume I was wearing for like three years ago?” And imagine, Kaizer already left for some oh-so—very-random-pastures that God provided for him and is nowhere to be seen for the graduation rites, that boy. If only the sixteen-year-old Arthur Reyes Seymour knew then, he would’ve chosen Québec instead of Edmonton. But still, how would he know I wore this same perfume back then when he was never to be found again after years later?

“You received a small pouch on your seat that says, ‘Happy Completion Day; here’s your gift for a job well done!’ right? And the contents were a small vial of that same perfume?”

It was as if Apollo smacked some senses to me that I connected the dots. I stammered. “Y—you?”

“You probably thought it was some random guy who has a crush on you, but it’s just me, Kaizer.”

Okay, he got me there. I did think it was some random lovesick kid who had a crush on me and left me some gift. But regardless, why would he? I shook the idea in my head as I calmed myself down. Not gonna lie, he does have a good choice in perfumes. I looked at him putting fabrics in his naked body. And no, I do not feel like I want to pounce on him right here or in this lifetime for that matter.

He wore his blue flannel polo under a white cotton sleeveless shirt before tucking it in into a pair of light blue jeans and white sneakers. He opened his locker and shoved out a sling bag, and it was needless to say what color it was.

“Do I have the choice not to join you on the way to school?”

“Yeah, just make sure you have 15 dollars in your pocket.”

Which I don’t, and if I did, I still won’t. Damn those fucking transpo prices being blown out of proportion literally.

“I knew it,” Kaizer said as he analyzed my thoughts. “I’m riding my scooter. I brought a spare helmet if you want to.” He pulled out an obviously expensive helmet and shoved it into his head. It was just a normal fit and he again tried pulling another one and tossed it to me. “Come on, Seymour. There’s no rest for the wicked.”

“Talk about yourself.”

Kaizer shrugged and went further into the locker room, and I followed him until we reached what seemed to be a fire exit. When we got outside, I felt the sudden surge of temperature and the air changing quite rapidly, like being transported from one scenery to another in a snap. Outside there are a lot of cars and motorcycles parked around diagonally. Kaizer fiddled around his pocket to find his key before pushing buttons on it. Instantly a sound broke out and Kaizer went on in its direction.

Needless to say, it was a blue Toyota scooter.

Kaizer was the first to ride on the scooter, then I rode on the back. I held on to the railings behind me, to which Kaizer was a bit pissed.

“Do you want to ride or not? If yes, then grab on to my waist, dummy!” I have no choice but to embrace the bitch.

We zoomed across the kilometers-away road, passing by streaks of colors of green on either side. We are lucky enough not to be stopped by the traffic signal many times and we got into the university gate just in the nick of time. It was ten minutes before the start of the class.

As I stepped down on the scooter, Kaizer removed the helmet on me. I don’t know how I would explain it, but it was as if he is carefully removing it so as to also not also remove my fucking head. Okay, no, but it was something more like . . . romantic.

“What was that for?” I questioned Kaizer.

“Just to have you hear what I’m about to say clearly because, well, I’m going to say this only once.” He removed his helmet and combed his hair using his hand. “I like what we did back there at the hotel.”