Chapter Eighteen (i)

| Christmas |

♥

Who hates Christmas? Because I don't. Christmas is the season when everything feels cozy and warm despite the December chilly wind, where every television channels produce heartwarming songs about love and giving, when the nights are not as dark because of the Christmas lights hanging on everyone's house, when the scent of gift wrappers fill your home, and lastly, it's when you and your friends, and relatives reunite in one special night in a special event.

I have always loved Christmas, ever since I was a child. I've always loved seeing people exchanging gifts, hearing soft Christmas songs, smelling gift wrappers, and opening gifts under a Christmas tree. My parents and I may not be really close, but I grew up receiving gifts from them.

At December 24th, morning, Sean called me.

"Hey," I answered the call.

"Let's meet tomorrow."

It wasn't a permission – it was a command. I smiled. "Why?"

"Ayaw mo?"

I laughed and bit my lip. "Busy, e," I lied.

"The hell with that, make time for me."

He said that as if a child. I could imagine him frowning from the other line and that made me laugh. How could he be so demanding when he and I don't even have a relationship yet?

"Yeah, whatever," I said. And then I remembered something. "Uuwi si Kuya mamaya. Do you want to meet him?"

He didn't reply immediately, the silence hung.

"Am I welcome?" he said a few seconds after.

I chuckled. "Do you know how much my parents like you?" I said, which was true, because I told them that Sean once saved me from Vance – since then, they trusted him.

"Well," he said with hinted pride in his voice. "Okay. I want to meet him."

At seven in the evening, I saw my brother again. He came with his usual glasses on his eyes, his red jacket wrapped around his lean body, his long hair tied. Not refraining my squeal, I ran to him with my open arms and hugged him with all my might.

The age gap between I and Kuya is eight years, but that was never a hindrance for us to be close with each other. We had the same interest, books, literature, and music. I was his first reader at his first written story, when I was eight and he was sixteen. He will always beam brightly whenever I compliment his works (which are truly good) and I'll ask him to write more. He will shuffle my hair and thank me.

The scenes behind that, though, is he hides his stories under my bed, packed together inside a worn-out box. Mom hated the fact that Kuya always stuck in a corner writing 'stupid' poems and stories that 'wouldn't bring him anywhere', and so he kept his passion a secret.

Thinking back about this, I felt sad for my brother. I related it to Sean about how much he'd been in love with music – how happy he is to let his voice out – and I wondered how much hurt it would cause him to hide his passion just because of someone's opinion.

Gladly, though, when I was fourteen and he was twenty-two he went out the house and told my parents he will live on his own. Mom didn't respond. Dad gave him a pat and said, "Good luck, bud."

Then a year after, he called and said enthusiastically, "Riz! I've published a book!"

A genuine smile flashed on my face, and I covered my mouth to shriek in happiness. I felt happy for him. I thought, because of this, my parents would be proud of him.

Unfortunately, they were not. Or Mom wasn't. Dad smiled proudly.

"Tell him to call again if he leaves his old apartment and transferred to a much expensive one," Mom said. "Let him eat the pages of his book."

I didn't understand Mom. What's so bad about his son being a published author? Why was she so disapproving?

That was the last time I heard a call from Kuya.

So that evening in the 24th of December, I hugged him as if he will dissolve in the thin air any minute. I hugged him, preventing my tears to fall down. Oh, how much I missed him!

The moment he placed his hand on my hair, I felt the familiar comfortableness of being in his arms, inhaling his scent.

"Musta, sis?" he asked.

I looked up to him while smiling. "Never been better!" I said. "Miss na kita!"

He laughed. "Balita ko may boyfriend ka na, ah?"

I blushed, and before I could even answer, we heard a knock on our door. We both looked at it. As if on cue, my parents showed up behind me, seeing me and Kuya meeting.

"Matt?" Mom said, her voice shocked.

Dad didn't waste any minute. He smiled proudly, excited to see his only son. "'Ey, buddy!" he said. He winked at me while his arm is wrapped around Kuya's shoulder. "Entertain your visitor," he said and pointed the door.

I looked at Kuya and smiled, before opening the door for Sean.

"I knew it's you," I said after seeing him on the front porch.

He was wearing a stupid Christmas hat, and a gift on his hand. I laughed at his appearance. "Ano ka, mangangaroling?"

He blushed in shame. "Shut up." He then looked at me straightly. "Take this."

He pushed a poorly wrapped gift on my hands. I looked at it and couldn't contain my snicker. He frowned, and I apologized.

"Sorry," I said again. I sighed deeply. "Where did you get this?" I asked, examining his gift. It was poorly wrapped, like I've said, but it was obviously a box. The tapes were... how do you call this? They were not in correct places. "And how long did you wrap this?"

He sighed exasperatedly. "Geez, Mau, just – just thank me," he said through his blushing face. He made that reaction again! Trying to be cool although his face is as red as his gift wrapper!

I just snickered. "Thank you, then. Come in."

He rolled his eyes and walked in, leaving his shoes on the side of the door.

"Don't worry, I didn't forget your gift," I said, which gained a smile from him.

"I know," he replied and winked.

That night, we had a lot of visitors. Since the day before 24th a lot of my Titas came, they helped Mom cook so much, and so Dad invited his co-workers, his friends, Mom's friends from work and from high school, too. It was a feast!

So when I invited Sean in and made him sit in one of the chairs, they didn't quite mention him. They questioned Kuya more than I, which was okay for me, because I hate Socratic Method. It felt good, though, to be in the same room as Kuya again. Fresh feelings came back and... I thought everything is okay. I was looking forward to the next year.

But when the clock finally struck 12, their eyes are focused on me.

They asked my grades, my school, my... friends (I don't have one – just mere acquaintances), how's my study, and, finally, something Titas always ask,

"May boyfriend ka na ba?"

"T-Tita, wala pa p–"

"Soon po," Sean said, cutting me off. Then as if it was choreographed, my Titas' eyes turned on Sean. Kuya laughed, my parents smiled, and my cousins shrieked 'yieee'.

Blushing, I hid my face with my right palm, munching on my fruit salad.

"Nililigawan mo?"

"Opo," Sean said.

"Uy, ka-g'wapo nito, 'day! Sagutin mo na!" Tita said, which made me blush more.

"Tita," I said, stopping her from her tease, but she just giggled.

"I'm not rushing her," Sean said, and I felt his eyes look at me. "I'll wait," he said, not to my relatives, but to me. My Dad nodded approvingly, while Mom was trying to suppress her smile. I've never seen her that happy.

"Ayusin mo lang," Kuya warned him, but with a smile on his face.

The Nocha Buena ended with full stomachs and aching cheeks because of laughter. Christmas eves aren't usually like that – which made my Christmas special, and love-filled.

Since after the Noche Buena they still played on videoke and had barbecues on the backyard, Sean and I decided to stay on our roof.

From up there, the Christmas lights shone like stars, the faint sounds of my Tita's voice singing were our background song, and the view we had been watching were the children playing and opening gifts. Their smiles really brighten up the whole Christmas night.

It was a perfect view to see.

"Open it," Sean suddenly said.

I looked at him, and he was too close again, which was fine, because on our roof, it was chilly, and I needed his warmth.

"Okay," I answered, and as I was about to open it, we heard a man's shout of pain. Sean and I turned our heads suddenly.

We saw Kuya grimacing in pain as he was holding his feet, probably hit something hard because of his lameness, and I laughed.

"N'yare sa 'yo?"

"Darn – bakit ba kasi dito kayo tumambay?"

I laughed as I saw him walk towards us with his unsteady feet.

"Riz – alis ka muna. Kakausapin ko 'tong soon to be brother ko."

I blushed intensely. "Kuya!"

He laughed and shuffled my hair. "Totoo naman, 'di ba?"

I rolled my eyes at him, my face still heating, and I climb down the roof through our attic's ladder, leaving the both of them in the roof, talking.

To pass time, I just quietly slipped in my room. I lied down my bed, resting my eyes, recharging from too much socializing, as I feel the crunch of Sean's gift's wrap against my hand. I opened my eyes, sitting up on my bed, and opened his gift.

As expected, of course, it was a box. A small, white box. I smiled, and upon seeing what's inside, I laughed hard.

It was a small picture frame. With his wacky face. Wide opened nose, tongue stuck out, and winking eyes. Seriously, that's very romantic!

But Sean... what the hell was I supposed to do with that? I still continued laughing as I examine his stupid face. I didn't know what to do with it, so I just put it beside my lampshade.

Well, I did know what to do with it, then.

♥