Page 53 of Chasing Mr. Prefect

“Have you been crying into this bowl since morning? Parang maalat,” I teased and she let out a weird sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

“Sama talaga ng ugali mo,” she replied and I could not help but sob with her on the spot. I felt so bad because that was true and at the same time I was just so overwhelmed and happy that she was talking to me again.

We apologized to each other, me clearing out that I had no intentions of ruining things for her at all. She wept in reply, saying she knew that and had let her deep grudges take over and I could not help but cry with her. We promised to talk about things at length and at a better time. We had just been in the same spot when someone came up the stairs.

“Hey, Vinnie, your dad said I’ll find you upst?—”

Cholo stopped in his tracks. Liana and I both stared at him.

“Not a word,” I say, wiping my eyes.

Liana turned her back and did the same as Cholo tried not to smile.

CHAPTER 22

Things were so much better after that. Our parents noticed the swollen eyes, the sniffs (Liana), and the hiccups (me) but did not say anything. Liana whipped up a new batch of sans rival icing so Cholo and I fought over being taste-tester. Dad took a liking to Potato and played with her while the barbecue meat he prepared was marinating. Cris painstakingly shelled and deveined the biggest bowl of shrimp I had seen in my life.

I blinked and stared at the prawns, realizing something.

“Tita Cris, Cholo’s allergic to shrimp,” I said. “Do we have something else we could make for him?”

“Ay!” Cris yelped, making everyone look at her. “Thank goodness you told me! Let me check. Enzooo!”

She asked my Dad if he used all the chicken thighs and he said no, there should be at least half a kilo more left in the ref. Cris gave a sigh of relief and rushed to the freezer. She asked me to slice more aromatics, bringing the shrimp and the cookware she used outside to the dirty kitchen.

I washed the other cookwares and wiped the surfaces to make sure no traces of shellfish was left, then proceeded with my task. Cholo took over boiling the pasta and started slicing thechicken himself (“Ako naman ‘yung kakain, hehehe”). Dad took out an additional pan for Cris to use outside. The surprise task kept us all busy now as we had a separate set of pasta to make. Potato behaved well and stayed put in a spot in the kitchen, watching us cook.

All the hardwork proved to be worth it. Noche Buena this year was unparalleled.

We set the table as early as 11 p.m. A Harry Potter movie played in the background while we ate. Potato was having the best time out of all of us, having so many people looking after her and fighting over her attention all at the same time.

“Luh, Dad, how many glasses of that have you had? Ang pula mo na!” I nagged as I got myself another serving of seafood alfredo.

Beside me, Cholo had the serving bowl of the chicken alfredo all to himself. Liana now had a small mountain of barbecue sticks on her plate and was laughing at everything while Cris just watched us all with a tired smile on her face.

“I don’t know! But this is good. Thank you for the champagne, Cholo!” Dad said, and I slapped my palm against my forehead. “But you know the best present I got this year? It’s Vinnie talking to me again. Merry Christmas!”

I cringed at the sappiness of it all and then I got an idea.

“Since bati na tayo, will you let me go to Seoul this summer?” I said, complete with my best mabait face.

The parents looked surprised, Liana looked impressed, and Cholo watched my dad’s reaction.

“If you finish this term without getting delayed or landing another visit at the disciplinary office, then we’ll talk.”

Liana burst into laughter, making Potato jump from her lap. Cholo pursed his mouth shut, determined not to let even a chuckle escape as I gave him a warning look.

At about 1 a.m., Cris brought out the dish everyone was waiting for—the sans rival. It was a good thing that Liana made two batches because they ended up sharing one pan (Dad, Cris, and Liana) while Cholo and I shamelessly fought over the other.

As promised, Cholo and I washed the dishes together and told everyone else to hit the sack. They had all gone upstairs by the time we finished so we were also tasked with turning off the TV and all of the lights. Potato stayed put in her little spot in the kitchen and Cholo left the litter box in the corner for her to use in the night.

Dad had insisted for him to stay over (he must have really liked that champagne) and attend the mass with us tomorrow morning.

“I can sleep here, it’s okay,” Cholo said as I waited for him. “There are pillows here.”

“No, the sofa upstairs is much nicer. Come on. Potato will be okay here.”

I led him to the second floor and got some spare linens and pillows from my cabinet. I unfolded the sofa bed, lined the sheets, and handed him a pillow and a blanket.