Our gaze meets, while mine is of pity, his is brooding. He says, “You know, Enzo, I regretted meeting her now. I’m at my lowest, scrambling to get back on track.”

I raise an eyebrow at him, and say sternly, “What do you mean—” I had to stop because he immediately turned away from me, evading my question. I press on, “Is there something you're not telling me, Airon?”

“It’s…”

“Come on. Tell me. Work? Financial? This crappy apartment?”

“My apartment is fine!” he snaps, glaring at me. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to… Ummm… I just ne-needed time.”

“Okay.”

I prefer he glares and gets angry at me than seeing him dejected. 

“It’s just that… Now that we had reconnected, I wanted to rekindle the special bond she and I had back in high school. But I’m hesitating. I felt like I misread the situation. Maybe I was just excited to meet her after so many years. Maybe it’s… It’s one-sided. I mean what I feel for her… I’m confused. How should I—” 

“Beats me!”

“Sorry—”

“I’m not the person you can turn to for advice when it comes to relationships. You know that, right?”

He nods. 

I have strings of relationships. On the other hand, he’s inexperienced. Breakups are just a common occurrence to me. He’s the type to pine over a breakup for years. 

“I… I met her again at the park tonight but it wasn’t a date! We just hang out. Not a date. If it were, I’d be a terrible—”

I wave my hand, dismissing his explanation. “Why do you look guilty?” I smile wryly at him, and joke, “The way you say it, it’s like you're explaining to your—”

“She’s someone I know!” he says awkwardly. I sense that he’s embarrassed which I find amusing. He grabs the mug and sips some coffee, covering his blushing cheeks from view. 

Damn! I f*cking hate this self-restraint I imposed upon myself. 

“Allison and I like the full moon. That’s something we have in common.”

“I see…”

“We… We just talked about, you know, life… And that incident in our hometown which had resulted in my grandma being driven out of our community.”

“Was that the time you had to move in with her to the city?”

“Yes!”

“I haven't mentioned this to you before. There was an incident…” his voice suddenly trails off. He pushes the mug further away from him. Then, he rests the left side of his head on the table. “When I was a freshman at Holy Mercy Academy, my grandma became an outcast. It all started one rainy day in February. Would you believe me if I told you that the entire 4th-year class section 4-B disappeared without a trace during their retreat? My grandma said the mountain took them.” 

I want to say ‘hell no’ because I don’t believe in the supernatural. It’s just myths and scary tactics of our elders to keep the kids behaving nicely. 

As he narrates some memories of his past, his somber voice and pensive mood are depressing. Nevertheless, I let him ramble on.