Kilig Moments...the Stuff Movies are Made Of

Alphabet played bass guitar, and he liked showing off his skill. Even over the phone. He'd play a tune and I'm suppose to guess what song. But I wasn't into music then, since I had myself pretty convinced I can't sing to redeem myself. One song I can remember though, is Toto's I'll Be Over You. I didn't know that song then, but it's become one of my favorites right after that. And I'd never forget that time he played it for me over the phone.

Every chance I could talk to him, every moment I could spend with him was kilig moment. Perhaps it was a one-way street, but he was polite enough, and nice enough, to let me pass that street.

I once asked him why he could be so indifferent in person, when he's so talkative and open with me over the phone. He mumbled a few excuses, and it boiled down to both of us waiting for the other to start the ball rolling. It bothered me, the way we could be best friends on the wire, and strangers for real. I felt I was being short-changed, but I was willing to get anything I can. For what it was worth, I got my just rewards.

*****

Potassium permanganate. The substance of kilig.

Chemistry class that day was horrible. No amount of careful handling prevented me from getting potassium permanganate stains on my lab gown and hands. I was washing beakers and tubes and giving my palms a good dose of scrubbing when Alphabet came and stood beside me. He looked at my hands and told me to hand him the soap and he'll do the washing and I concentrate on my hands. He'd finished cleaning the wares and I was still sloughing off my skin. Laughingly, he took one of hands, grabbed a brush and pretended to brush it like a maniac. I was ticklish, add to that, so out of breath with his nearness and the fact that he was holding my hand. I tried to pull my hand but he continued to soap it and rub it. When it became apparent that even his TLC won't do anything, we rinsed our hands...and went our separate ways. We never, not even once, talked about that incident.

For my 17th birthday, I invited the merry gang to my house...the Giordano Girls and the boys. Alphabet gave me a bar of Whachamacallit, wrapped in silver foil and red yarn. I kept the wrapper and ribbon until a fire in my room two years after destroyed it. Since the GGs knew of my infatuation with Alphabet, they took pains ensuring we were beside each other always. Pictures were taken. He helped blow the candles. Then my friends insisted I open their present. It was a gray Giordano shirt...the same brand/color/shade we gave Alphabet for his birthday. If that wasn't bad enough, they made me try it on...infront of him. If my coloring allows me to blush, I would have put roses to shame then.