Chapter 4

Archie's laugh was audible though Sander and I were in the kitchen. I supposed he and Ashley got along easily and started playing games aside from pushing each other's swing. He got himself an instant playmate.

Sander had no idea what to cook for lunch. His plan to amuse my sister was made in the heat of the moment.

I'd known him for only a year, but we treat one another as bosom friends, and eating in each other's house was no big deal. He could bathe and use my shower whenever he wanted to. His house was the extension of ours, and vice versa. There were just times when Ashley wouldn't permit him to enter our premises.

The spatula he used to hit me was laid on the table, I took it and socked Sander on his head while I had the chance to do it.

"Now we're even. Please, stop being foolish in front of a kid,"

He did not seem to mind my action, instead, he grabbed the spatula from my hand and started walking away from me, frowning. I followed him.

"I never knew you had a nephew." I blurted out, ran out of words to say.

"Well, now you're informed. We've been friends for a year, yet you haven't even asked if I have siblings. Archie doesn't have a dad. So, don't ask questions about that punk. I'll chop your tongue off," he jokingly warned.

I wanted to probe him about Archie's dad, but words didn't roll off my tongue. Perhaps Sander noticed questions were running through my mind; without hesitation, he started explaining small details concerning Archie's parentage. He was the son of his younger sister. What kind of friend was I? I never knew he had a sister. On the other hand, he was my close friend. He listened when I talked about Charish, he was there for me all the time. I never paid attention to his life, I felt guilty for calling myself his close friend.

"You see that kid is living a normal life. He doesn't need a prick who's as scared as a jackass of paternal obligations,"

I laughed with the thought of Sander calling Archie's real Dad a jackass. He used to call me the same when he thought I was being absurd. Instead of kicking my ass he would just give me monikers, like dickhead and douchebag, name the worse things.

He altered the topic by asking a question.

"Why aren't you with Andrea?" he went on, "She's a better cook than me,"

I didn't say a word. I sat at the stool, placed my elbows on the table, and complemented how the new floating shelves made the kitchen look bigger. I also noticed the cute drawings of his nephew posted on one side of the fridge.

"Are you avoiding her? Something wrong?"

I shook my head, there was nothing wrong going on between the two of us.

"Everything's fine," I told Sander.

There was not a need to say yes just to convince him that I did care for Andrea. We'd shared memories and that was enough to prove that I valued her, at least a little.

Sander seemed displeased with what I said, "Is it about her again?" he asked.

Then just like that, he caught me off guard by asking one simple question. What about her? I didn't know the answer. Was she well? Was she thinking of me? Did she forget my name? Was she somewhere at Sander's house, watching as we talked about her?

Damn, it's been two years since she left. I haven't dared to move on. I can't just forget her.

An answer was not necessary, required. Sander was quite good at thought reading. Just by looking at me, he already knew what I had in mind. Shaking his head in disapproval, he said, "Man, that's hard. Getting over someone isn't your thing, I presume."

"It's okay to care for almost every person, Sander. Living or not, it's totally fine."

"No offense, Aspen. But I would rather care for the people who are in my life right now. I don't want to neglect them because of someone who isn't even-" he stopped talking.

I knew what he was about to say, someone who isn't even breathing. Lying six feet under the ground.

Sander's sigh was the last thing I heard before he turned the faucet on. We stayed silent for a while; I was thinking of her, and Sander was just watching the water as it ran down from the tap.

How could I stop thinking about her? She was all I wanted to spend my life with. I will not forget that.

We'd been each other's best friends for five years. Our relationship was not to be treated as a joke.

I heard Sander curse under his breath, I watched him as he tossed the apron he was wearing on the stool next to him. Suddenly, he was standing in front of me, "Look, Aspen, I'll be honest with you by not adding insult to your injury,"

I smiled at his statement and tried my best to come up with the best repartee.

"What now? You've become a philosopher?"

He was hesitant to speak, but managed to translate his thoughts into words, "Charish was already part of your past. I'm not in your shoes, man, I won't be able to feel how depressed you are by her loss. Nobody wanted that incident to happen, not even Charish. How can you move forward to the future when you keep on going back to the past? But just think of this, she loved you, she wanted the best for you. Accept the past and then let it go. Aspen, you have a life. Imagine how Charish would be smiling up there when she sees you living a happy life. This is crazy, man. Where did I get those pieces of shit?" he asked, shaking his head; he forced a laugh.

This was harder than I'd imagined. Getting over her was practically the struggle I should overcome. Charish. Her name had never left me. She had dwelled in my life. I was in a trance when I heard Sander's voice. I remained seated, waiting for him to tell me what to do. Based on his expression, he had diminished the idea of cooking.

"Earth to Aspen,"

He walked to the fridge but didn't open it to get any refreshment. "Aren't you tired of being alone?"

"Are you?"

He mouthed damn you and put a middle finger in the air. We both laughed.

"Loneliness doesn't exist, Sander. I have you, my parents, and Ashley."

"Well, I don't have Ashley."

"Pray that in your next life she will choose you."

"Fuck signs, man. You'll die awaiting nothing."

"And you'll die a celibate."

He cackled at my retaliation.

"Shall I order pizza for lunch?" I asked, getting the phone in my jean's pocket.

He was suspiciously analyzing me; a crease was starting to form on his forehead. He cleared his throat and brushed a hand through his hair. I was the one who was supposed to do that.

"Sure, no sumptuous lunch today. Sorry about that."

That apology was not for the unsuccessful preparation of lunch. I knew him.

"I think I need to check up on Ashley and the kid," I got up from the stool, "By the way, where's his mom?"

My question might have been out of earshot because Sander didn't respond.

I heard voices, chattering, and I could decipher that Ashley's voice was part of the conversation.

"No way! You know Sander?" a voice asked.

"Unfortunately, and I wish I didn't," replied Ashley.

I strode out of the kitchen; Archie was not with my sister. Ashley was embracing a girl whose face was turned back from me. I cleared my throat to let them know someone was watching their reunion-like scene. My sister saw me first.

Just as I thought Sander would stay in the kitchen, a hand clasped my shoulder, "Hi, Isabel, good morning to you. Surprise, we got company," he said.

We were standing by the kitchen door frame, dividing the living room from the dining area, except that there was no door, just a frame.

"Hey, there you are, Aspen! I'd like you to meet my friend," Ashley said, then she turned to face her friend whom Sander referred to as Isabel, "Wait, when you said brother, you mean him?" she asked Isabel.

Ashley was referring to Sander.

"Yes, we're sibs." Sander's unequivocal answer. "Small world, huh? So, you're friends?"

Now Isabel was facing my direction, standing beside my sister, still in her pajamas. There were prints of a bear head on it. The first thing I wanted to do when I caught sight of her reaction was to laugh.

This room could be filled with paroxysms of laughter if we did cackle, unfortunately, both of us were out of words to utter. Ashley and Sander were staring at us, because who would not react when they were introduced to his best friend's sister and, at the same time, his sister's acquaintance. We could pretend we hadn't met before, but we hadn't had a knack at feigning ignorance.

In the corner of my eyes, Ashley's gaze was speaking to me, like it was relaying a message saying say hi to her, Aspen, or you're dead.

Isabel pulled her hair back, tied it in a bun and abruptly undid it, she sighed. She wouldn't meet my eyes and she seemed lost in her thoughts.

The inaudibility of Sander's voice and Ashley's skeptical look were the things I'd noticed before I let my thoughts wander off.

I was sure she was the girl who had spent a trifling moment with me in Baguio. The memories crept in as I was trying to reminisce how and when we met.

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