Eleven Minutes

[Sophie]

13.

He watched her as brows went up, then knitted together, tighter and tighter, until one of her eyebrows – her right one – shot right up, her chocolate brown eyes finally travelling up to meet his.

She was clearly not pleased.

“Raf,” she began in a voice that she was obviously trying keep neutral. “It’s very sweet of you. Really. I do appreciate the effort.” She paused, checking her words before continuing. “But I really don’t think I should go to these anymore,” she gestured to the leaflets and computer print outs of art workshops and short courses. “I mean… it’s just that… I do it more for fun lately than anything and if I go to these things it would be like work or school all over again, and it won’t be fun anymore and I really don’t want that. I’m quite happy with the little that I can do now. Honestly. But thanks anyway. And I do appreciate it, Raf.”

She pushed the papers back to him, but he did not accept them right away.

“I still think it’s worth a shot, Ands. I mean it’s your dream right? It’s never too late to pursue your dreams.”

“I--” she suddenly stopped, closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. “I can’t believe I’m getting a taste of my own medicine,” she said with a low chuckle. Then she threw him a narrowed glare. “Rins didn’t tell you to do this, did she?”

“What?” It was like he was on a train and Andrea had just stepped on another one. One that was quickly leaving for the other direction. “Irene? No, I haven’t seen her after she was discharged from the hospital. She’s still on maternity leave, you know. And why would she tell me to do this?”

She sighed and smiled apologetically. “Sorry. I’m getting paranoid.”

He must have looked so confused that she laughed and tried to explain.

“It’s just that I’ve been in this scenario before, only I was on the opposite side of the fence then. Your side of the fence. And somebody else was on this side. And now I sort of get what he was feeling then.” She shook her head and waved her hand, as if by doing so she could also erase the memory. “Forget it. It was a long time ago. And I’m just paranoid.”

“Oh.” He wasn’t sure if he got what she was trying to say but he had a feeling it involved that “one person” in her life.

“In any case,” she tried to put some extra cheer back in her voice. “I can’t do it, Raf. Sorry. But thanks.”

She sounded so firm and sure, and more determined than ever to refuse his offers. He gathered the papers and shoved them back in his backpack. He sighed.

Then he smiled.

“So, do you want to catch a movie before we go?”

--

[Sophie]

14.

No, she didn’t want to see a movie.

And no, she couldn’t have lunch or dinner, or even coffee with him. She’s too busy. She’s already going out with other friends. She needs to go home right away. She needs to help someone with something. She forgot about it. She didn’t even receive his text message. Her mobile phone’s battery was flat. She was out of credits. The list of excuses went on and on.

At first she said them with genuine disappointment. Then with wary hesitation. Then exasperation. And lately, frustration and annoyance.

“Stop it, Raf,” she snapped at him one time. He decided to leave the office a lot earlier than usual just to catch her on her way home. He saw how her smile turned to a scowl the moment she saw him and it broke his heart. But she’s broken his heart so many times already, and he’s grown quite used to it. “You’re really getting on my nerves now. I told you, I don’t love you. I never will. Please. Just go and leave me alone.”

But he stayed.

“It’s late and it’s pouring out there,” he told her the following day, just as she stepped into the foyer. “There aren’t any busses coming and no FX either. The jeeps are all full, and so is the waiting shed.”

She stared at him for a long time. Then she sighed.

“Let’s have dinner.”

And without waiting for a reply, she turned and started walking further into the building, to the small restaurant tucked in a far corner.

Her reaction was unexpected, but not unwelcomed. He followed her as she took a seat on one of the corner tables. A waitress came and handed each of them a menu.

“I’ll have a chicken sandwich and a capuccino please,” she ordered without even glancing at the menu book.

He looked at her. “That’s all you’re having?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You don’t drink coffee.”

“I do sometimes.”

The air was so thick, even the waitress must have felt it. He closed his menu and handed it back to her. “I’ll have the same.”

The girl repeated their orders and went back to the kitchen.

“So…” he began, not sure what to say. He finished it with a lame “How are you?”

“I don’t know. You tell me. I think you’d know better than I would, with you tailing me all the time.”

“I’m sorry.”

She sighed. “No, you’re not.”

“No, I’m not,” he agreed.

“I don’t know what to do anymore, Raf. I tried being bitchy and conceited and high-maintenance. They’re all usually very effective in turning the guys off. But apparently not you. Tell me what to do, Raf. Should I try ‘needy’ and ‘whiney’ and ‘clingy’? How about ‘possessive’? Would that work? Because I just really, really want to get rid of you.”

No man with a sane mind would have remained seated after that tirade. But his ego was already black and blue from Andrea’s previous attacks and, he told himself, it would not matter if it received another one. Or one thousand. Besides, he supposed, he was never really sane to begin with.
 
She looked at him for the longest time but he remained silent. He was grateful when the waitress came back to serve them their sandwiches and coffees. Finally he could stare at something else. The table was starting to crack from his gaze.

“I’m not worth it, Raf.” Her voice was low but soft – the softest he’s heard for weeks. It was almost like she was back to her old self. He decided to risk it and meet her eyes.

But she was looking away.

“That’s not up to you to decide,” he said. He saw her cringe, her mouth silently forming the word “What?” before shaking her head. At least it made her smile, albeit wryly.

“There are lots of other girls out there.”

“I’ve tried.”

She raised an eyebrow, clearly taken by surprise. “And?”

He shrugged.

She frowned.

“I’ll stop,” he told her quietly after a while. Eyes that were hovering on the egg sandwich suddenly met his. “But I’ll wait.”

She groaned.

“Just like you’re waiting for him, I’ll wait for you.”

“That’s a completely different--”

“No it isn’t.”

“This is ridiculous!”

“I don’t care.”

“Raf!”

“What?” Anger managed to seep in his voice despite his best efforts. He hastily tried to correct himself. “I’ll wait, Ands. I can’t do anything else. You of all people should know how it is.”

“Fine!” She threw her hands in frustration. “Fine! You can wait how ever long you want as long as I don’t see you around anymore, that’s perfectly fine with me. I honestly hoped it wouldn’t come to this but,” she pushed her chair back and stood up, shaking her head. “Good riddance, Raf. I don’t ever want to see you again.”

He glared at the untouched chicken sandwich as she stormed out of the restaurant and, quite possibly, his life. He wanted to overturn the table, to kick the wall, to shout obscenities at the watching waitresses. But none of those things would ever bring her back. There wasn’t anything else he could do. He screwed it all up.

It was over.

--

[Sophie]

15.

She was sitting on one of the flowerboxes near the entrance, her back to him. Rain continued to pound on the slightly-flooded street. It was dark but he could tell that she was crying.

He had been furious almost an hour ago. Now he just felt lost and empty.

“There’s no point standing there like a security guard,” she finally croaked. “I know you’re there.”

But he was frozen on the spot, wanting to get her the jacket that he stupidly left in the car but knowing full well that he could not just walk past her crying.

“I told him to go, did you know that?” Her voice was barely audible with all the rain. “He didn’t want to but I pushed him.”

He inched forward, straining his ears.

“He wanted to stay but I pushed him away. I told him it’s his dream and he should follow it. He said it was pointless if I wasn’t there. But of course I couldn’t come with him. So I told him I’ll wait for him. No matter what, I’ll wait for him. I promised. That was the only way I could get him to go. I loved him so much that’s why I forced him to go.”

She turned to look at him, her eyes silently begging him to understand. To forgive.

But he couldn’t forgive her. It wasn’t his forgiveness that she was asking for.

“It was his dream, see. He’d regret not taking it. He’d regret it and secretly maybe even unconsciously blame me for it. I’m sure he would because I did.”

He sat down and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. She can scream and even punch him in the face if she wanted to but goddammit, he’s not just gonna stand around and watch her cry.

She did neither. She merely continued to sob against his chest, her words muffled but not lost.

“I promised him. It’s just that I can’t even remember how he looks like without looking at his photo.” She buried her face in her palms, her head leaning the tiniest bit on his shoulder. “I want to keep on loving him. I want to wait for him. I have to. I promised.”

“You promised,” he told her quietly, loving the feel of her soft hair against his lips. “And you did wait. But Ands,” he pulled back far enough to gaze at her tear-streaked face, but she only turned away. “What’s the point in waiting when you can’t even remember who you’re waiting for?”

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “It’s not supposed to be like this,” she muttered, more to herself.

“It isn’t fair, Ands,” he continued, his eyes still seeking to meet hers. “Not to you, not to him.”

But she wouldn’t meet his gaze. Instead, her eyes seemed to focus on something else. He was turning to follow her stare when a horn sounded. It came from a red Toyota that had just parked illegally in front of the building.

She shook off his arms and grabbed her shoulder bag. “You’re a good guy, Raf,” she said with a tight smile while rummaging her bag for an umbrella. “And you’re probably right. About a lot of things.” She stood up, trying to collect herself. “Sorry about what happened earlier. I’ll make it up to you one day. Maybe we can even have lunch again, like the good old days.”

“I’ll be looking forward to that, then.”

She looked at him with sad, tired eyes. “Might take a while though.”

“That’s fine,” he reassured her. “I’ve got Odd to keep me company anyway.”

She hit him lightly with the umbrella before opening it. “Give it back to me already! You said one day, you book thief!”

“I’ll bring it to lunch,” he promised, knowing full well that the thin book has been nestling inside the glove compartment of his car for months.

“You better!” he heard her call out over her shoulder as she ran down the steps of the building and into the red car.

He watched them drive away, a small smile on his lips.

She said she wasn’t worth it. She couldn’t have been more wrong.

--

END.

--

A/N:
Hah! Finished! I had an overwhelming urge to finish writing this fic despite a raging headache, the snugly cold weather and a coming night shift. This isn’t something I’m particularly proud of story/storytelling-wise, but there’s just something so liberating to finally be able to type those three letters. Anyways, thanks so much for reading, and as always, feel free to comment/review/whatnot.