(12) Story Telling By Me

"Hey...." I greeted Dean Castro silently, "How's it going?" I took a sit in front of him and smiled nicely.

He looks like he's studying my every movement, so I made sure not to let the reason slip of why I'm late, show.

"You're late...." He raised an eyebrow.

I may or may not cry for 20 minutes straight, but if I did, then it's for a reason.

"Yeah, sorry about that." I chuckled awkwardly.

He frowned, "Your nose is red."

"It is..." I nodded, opening the menu, and read it.

Hmmm? Weird.

I don't have the appetite for ice cream.

"Your eyes are puffy."

"And you're stating the obvious." I chuckled awkwardly, closing the menu and raised my hand to order. Noticing the tall glass that's already empty with a used spoon in front of him, I asked, "Have you ordered?"

"... Yeah." He nodded, "And ate it too. Sorry, I thought you weren't coming."

The young waiter walked towards us and asked for our orders.

"It's alright." I smiled at Dean, "Let's just order for you again. A little more wouldn't hurt you."

He grinned, "Actually, you might get diabetes and-"

"Shush." I silenced him, "Now, do you know what he ordered earlier?" I asked the waiter.

"Yes ma'am, it's-"

"You could've just asked me," Dean said while letting his arms fly around everywhere. "I'm here, hello."

"Hi!" I waved sarcastically.

Chuckling, I faced and smiled at the waiter. "I'll be ordering two of that, please."

"No probs." The waiter chuckled, walking away.

"THANK YOU!" I called out, before facing Dean and smiled stiffly, "So where were we?"

"With you explaining to me why you were crying."

Damn it.

"I wasn't." I lied nonchalantly.

"You aren't?"

I corrected him, "You weren't ?"

"I is?"

I shook my head and corrected him, "I was."

"Oh, so you were crying." He smirked.

Did he just word played me?!

"I was not crying earlier. Period." I pursed my lips and crossed my arms, "Now can you please start talking?"

"I..." He muttered as a look of defeat started dancing in his eyes. But as fast as it came, it turned into a frown, "No. Tell me your problem, I'm going to be your future brother -not by blood- soon, Vanchel."

With eyes widened, I blinked a lot of times before clearing my throat. "Okay."

"Thank you." He nodded, "Go on."

"Let's just say that I read a book where the main character loves her best friend. But her best friend loves another girl and asked help from his best friend and his best friend helped him and they got together and his best friend got sad and yet every time the best friend got a rocky relationship with the person he loves, he seeks help to his best friend and his best friend is always there for him and it's unfair." I rambled, trying to keep the tears at bay.

Dean's eyes widened, before shaking his head, "That's one hell of a clichè book."

"I know!" I said exasperatedly.

"And you're stupid."

"How am I stupid?!"

"I mean, the main character's stupid."

"How am I stupid?!"

He smirked, "So you're confessing that the main character is you?"

"It's obvious! It's so obvious! And yet why is it so oblivious?!" I cried, pouring my heart out.

He immediately got up, walked beside me, and rubbed my back. "I have a feeling that that has a double meaning."

I continued crying, "Why am I stupid, anyway?"

He took a seat beside me and continued rubbing my back, "Well... First off, you should've confessed your love to him."

"I did-" I paused, realizing something, "-n't. I didn't..." I muttered silently.

He asked, "Why?"

"Because..." I shook my head, "Because he met his the one the same day I knew the word love. And he started babbling about her and he wouldn't stop."

"You could've tried..."

"There was this one girl who did give him a box of chocolates on Valentine's Day, and he rejected her straight in the face and gave it back to her! I just can't put my heart out knowing that it would be shoved back in."

"Vanch..."

"Don't call me that." I cried louder, "Really, don't.'

"Why?"

"Because he's the only one who can call me that."

"You know what's the problem here? You baby him, Vanchel."

"I... don't." I looked down, "Okay, maybe I do. But it's because I love him! I'm ready to give my own life for him!"

"That's not "love" Vanchel."

"How would you know that?" I asked him angrily.

"You can never truly love someone without loving yourself."

And that made me snap my mouth shut. He does have a point...

He continued, "If you're ready to give everything to him, what will you leave for yourself? You're selfish for your own self."

Silence met in between us, and the only one who broke it was the waiter who gave us our ice creams.

"Thank you." We thanked the waiter as he nodded and left.

"So..." I cleared my throat, "What's your story?"

He stood up, went back to his seat with a glass full of ice cream in hand, and asked, "My story?"

"Your story." I nodded, "I know Beth's, now yours. Your point of view."

"Okay..." He started, "It all started when I was in the 1st grade..."