“A FRIEND is someone who’s there for us when we need them most. It could be a childhood companion, a colleague, or even an ex-lover.”

***

Rychie arrived as promised. As he handed over the yearbook, Jimhuesh eagerly opened it, scanning the students’ faces in hopes of finding someone familiar.

“All right, Jim, I’ve been patient long enough. I’m at my limit now. So, spill it, why did you want this yearbook?” Rychie asked, arms crossed over his chest.

Jimhuesh didn’t even glance at him. He flipped to the next page, responding with a nonchalant shrug. “Hmph.”

“Don’t hmph me!”

Still avoiding eye contact, Jimhuesh turned the page again and smirked. “Tch!”

“Don’t tch me either!”

This time, he met Rychie’s gaze, his smirk widening. “It’s a secret.”

“A secret? Okay, then . . .”

Before he could react, Rychie had snatched the yearbook from his grasp.

“I won’t let you borrow this!” he declared, pouting as he hugged the book tightly.

“Seriously, Rye? You’re acting childish right now.”

“I don’t care! We’re best friends; there should be no secrets!”

Jimhuesh leaned back on the sofa. “All right, you win. I’ll tell you.”

Rychie raised his eyebrows, eagerly waiting for Jimhuesh to continue.

“Remember the girl we were talking about the other night?” he began, and Rychie’s face took on a puzzled expression as he handed the yearbook back.

Jimhuesh reached for the yearbook and continued, “The one you turned down back in high school, remember?”

“Oh, that girl? What about her?”

“I’m interested in her.”

“Huh? No way! Are you saying you’re interested in her romantically?”

Jimhuesh shot him a glare and made a face. “What are you talking about? Not like that!”

Rychie just smiled teasingly, raising his eyebrows, clearly not convinced.

Sighing, he explained, “I just need to confirm if it’s really her. I think I met her recently, but she looks completely different now.”

“Ah, I see what’s going on. . . .” Rychie chuckled knowingly.  “You find her really attractive, and you can’t get her out of your mind, am I right?”

“Nonsense!” Jimhuesh blurted out. He cleared his throat and mumbled, “Well, maybe she’s . . . a bit pretty . . .” then his voice rose slightly as he continued, “But you, claiming I can’t get her off of my mind?” He scoffed. “You’re surprisingly funny tonight, you know that, right?”

“Okay, got it. Why so defensive?”

“No, I’m not!”

“Yes, you’re not. But you’re too easy to tease.”

“Did you say something?”

Rychie simply shook his head and said, “Once you find her photo in that yearbook, show it to me, and I’ll confirm if it’s her.” He sighed. “I don’t know what you’re up to, but just make sure it’s not something as crazy as what you did before.”

 ~

After a few hours of training and developing the manager and staff of Grand Mall Sta. Rosa branch, Georgia and Walter were already engrossed in tackling paperwork.

However, out of the corner of Georgia’s eye, she noticed that Walter kept stealing glances at her as if he had something on his mind.

“About yesterday . . . just curious, what was your business with the VP?” he finally asked.

Jimhuesh had been Georgia’s first love. Initially, she believed she had left those feelings behind. Yet, when they crossed paths again in college, her emotions for him rekindled and grew stronger. She’d dared to hope for a chance with him, as Jimhuesh was consistently considerate. He’d regularly picked her up and dropped her off at her house, even dining with her family. Unbeknownst to Jimhuesh, his actions sent mixed signals, leaving Georgia thinking he felt the same way.

Ignoring Walter’s question, she retorted, “None of your business.”

He swiveled his chair closer to her, crouching slightly to align their eye level.

From her peripheral vision, Georgia could sense his probing intent. Although she held a higher position than Walter, he treated her more like a friend. Not that she minded; she appreciated his constant presence as a friend. He was, in fact, her only friend.

She had once had a best friend, but that trust was shattered when her ex-boyfriend and former best friend betrayed her in a romantic liaison. Since then, she had been cautious about forming same-gender friendships.

With the opposite sex, she had been equally wary. Initially, working with Walter had made her uncomfortable, but as time passed, she welcomed his presence. He was like a breath of fresh air that could brighten her day.

“Oh, come on! Just spill it!” Walter prompted.

Georgia, however, remained focused on her computer screen, her brows furrowed in concentration.

“Don’t tell me . . .” he mumbled, sniffing the air suspiciously. “Wait, I smell something fishy. Did you, perhaps . . .”

Her heart raced for a moment. She feared that Walter might have caught on to her feelings for the Vice President. She quickly grabbed her tumbler and gulped water.

“Did you ask for a salary in--” Walter’s sentence was cut short when she accidentally splashed water from her mouth onto his face. Despite the surprise, he managed to finish his question, “--crease?”

“Oh, my goodness gracious!” Georgia panicked.

Water dripped down Walter’s face and onto his suit, leaving her feeling terribly embarrassed. She hurriedly placed the tumbler back on the table and pulled a handkerchief from her chest pocket to wipe his face. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

Georgia’s heart skipped a beat as his hand gently cupped hers. Their eyes locked, and he reassured her, saying, “I’m fine. It’s okay, I’ll wipe my face.”

At that moment, she noticed something she hadn’t done before. When she looked closely, she realized that Walter was actually quite handsome. He possessed a long straight nose, dark eyes, and thin lips. His athletic build added to his overall manly appearance.

Clearing her throat, Georgia quickly withdrew her hand and turned her attention back to the computer screen, hoping he wouldn’t notice her blushing. “O-okay.”

 ~

During Kenzo’s conversation with Walter the other day about his breakup with Senthie, Kenzo had made a specific request to his best friend: not to press Senthie or let on that he knew about the breakup. He didn’t want her to feel any worse than she already did, knowing her guilt was likely consuming her. I’m glad Walter kept his promise, he thought.

Kenzo decided to visit Fashion Sen’s, but upon arrival, he found only Cecilia there. When she inquired whether he was looking for Senthie, he responded with a noncommittal maybe.

Cecilia chuckled. “Oh, come on! No need to be shy!”

He merely smiled at her remark, sensing that she remained unaware of the recent breakup.

“She’s in her studio, working on the gown due tomorrow,” she added.

“She’s working on it alone? You’re not assisting her?”

“You know how Sen is. She prefers to handle things on her own. Although, moral support is always welcomed. Plus, someone has to keep the store open.”

“You’re right.” Kenzo sighed. He bid Cecilia farewell and resolved to visit Senthie at her house.

 ~

Kenzo arrived at Senthie’s studio, an upstairs room across from her bedroom. Her studio was a space filled with sewing machines, a cabinet, shelves, and various female mannequins of different sizes neatly arranged in one corner.

The tall mannequin was positioned on her side, serving as a reference for the gown she was working on for a customer. An assortment of tools, including needles, threads, scissors, tape measures, and more, lay on the long white table in front of her. Additionally, there were furs and red fabric strewn across the table and even scattered on the floor.

Kenzo had been in the room for about an hour, but the only word Senthie had uttered was a casual hey. Apart from that brief greeting, silence had dominated their interaction. Whenever he attempted to engage her in conversation, she responded with nods or non-committal sounds of agreement. She remained deeply engrossed in her work, her disheveled bun and the dark circles under her eyes signaling her determination to not be disturbed.

Kenzo reluctantly decided to back off for the moment. Rising from his seat, he gently said, “I’ll be heading out now, Sen. Just remember to take a break, even if you feel like you can’t.”

Senthie didn’t look at him, her focus solely on her task as she replied with a distant sure. Kenzo felt another pang of hurt in his chest. He understood the pressure she was under, given the tight deadline for the gown. But a simple glance and smile from her wouldn’t have gone unnoticed.

As he reached for the doorknob, he heard his name being called. Turning back to Senthie, he offered a small, grateful smile, a lightness returning to his heart.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be more attentive,” she admitted, letting out a sigh. “Once this is all done, I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”