YOU, ME AND LOVE

YOU AND ME INSIDE THAT SHOP

The night is getting late. One by one, shop fronts dimmed while the neon signs blinked awake. The chain crackled in some entrances, as the roll shutters slowly turned down.

People passed by from the end to end. Some were dressed as they were going to the night park. While others rushed to ride the bus to go home.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the block, tents were already lined up. Vendors rushed—Cartwheels scraped against the pavement. Plastic bags rustled and wooden crates thudded, the clatter bouncing through the alley. One of the vendors waved a bolt of fabric toward passersby, calling out a price no one could refuse.

Slowly, smoke curled upward into the neon glow, carrying the scent of barbecue into the night.

I followed the smoke and music until the path opened into the park, already swarmed with people.

The benches on the other end were filled with blind masseuses, massaging some customers, while the ones in front of me were students still in their uniforms. Laughter burst from the students every few seconds, their voices overlapping in quick bursts of gossip.

I kept glancing at my phone, checking either the time or for a reply. I hammered the keys of my 3310:

Dude where are you?

My foot started to tap restlessly against the pavement.

A couple of minutes had passed when the melodies on the other block started to change. The pacing diverted—from mellow to something lively. Chatter rose and fell as the strum of the guitar blended into the crowd.

And then they showed up one by one. First to arrive was Justin—my eyes gleamed when I saw him emerge from the crowd. His tan complexion almost blended with the dark, and I could barely notice him until he started to smile.

“Justin!” I called out. “Here!”

He waved back at me.

“Where are the others?” he asked.

“As usual!” I exclaimed. “I’m always the first to arrive.”

Next were Rob and Bobby—both of them came from the other side of the block, where traffic had gotten worse. Buses and cars scattered every which way, none of them wanting to give way to the new route the traffic enforcer was gesturing toward.

“Yo!” Bobby called out.

Rob waved back at us. His grin already told us who was going to pay for the game.

“Justin?” Rob then followed. “The morning assembly—are your cadets ready?”

Justin nodded, then pulled Rob toward a corner where they could talk properly. Rob straightened up as he spoke, already slipping into the tone he used with the cadets.

“Where’s Rick?” Bobby asked.

All three of us shrugged. Our minds were still flooded with questions—where is he? Why is he late?

Then someone came up behind me and tapped my shoulder. I quickly turned—it was Rick.

He slumped over, hands on his knees, gasping for air.

“Sorry, guys!” he panted.

“Well…” Rob muttered. “A deal’s a deal, right, Rick?”

Still panting, Rick nodded in agreement. The four of us rejoiced over the free game.

So we started making our way toward the internet shop. We had to pass through the loud stalls, through the swarming crowd,straight toward the internet shop, until we finally reached it.

When we arrived, the inside was already packed. Computers were full. Bystanders swarmed the cubicles. The noise inside was muffled by the noise from outside.

I was about to grab the door handle when it swiftly swung open toward me. It almost hit my face.

“I’m already here... where are you?”

A soft voice passed us, her silhouette rushing by.

We got inside the internet shop lobby. Coffee brewed, its aroma lingering in the air. The lights were dimmed, giving the place a warm ambiance.

Rick went toward the counter, where the attendant stirred her coffee with a spoon.

The four of us stood in the corner. Rob and Bobby talked while Justin grabbed a magazine from the counter. My eyes, meanwhile, were fixed on a girl in a Gap hoodie through the glass window. She was talking to someone on the phone.

I couldn’t hear her—the noise inside was too loud. Players screaming on the other end, while keyboards hammering at the front.

Rick came back to us.

“We’re in lane 5, guys,” he muttered.

Bobby then rushed toward the other players in the other lane. He gestured to them, asking for a game rival play.

Until he came back.

“We have an opponent,” he exclaimed. “Lane 7.”

“What school are they from?” Rob asked.

“They’re sophomores, Rob,” Bobby chuckled. “From our basketball team.”

I gazed at them and waved hi. One of them waved back, his eyes widening. The other one smiled widely.

“Capt!” one of the sophomores called out.

“Let’s have a good game!” I exclaimed.

When we went to our lane, the computers were already working. I sat between Rick and Justin. The shop’s logo hung as the wallpaper on the screen. I took the headphones on the right side and placed them over my ears. I hovered the mouse, checking if it was good.

“The mouse sucks,” I whispered to Rick, leaning toward him.

He nodded.

“We got the worst lane,” he explained. “All the good ones weren’t available.”

I looked back at my screen, hovered my mouse to the DOTA icon, and started it. Minutes later, the game was already starting. The map laid out across the screen. I hovered the mouse to the lower part of the screen and clicked some items for my hero.

I looked at the screen, at the map. My eyes scanned every corner, checking where my team was.

Rob then called out for help.

“Guys! I need help here! Jake, where are you? I need you here!”

I was focused at first, but my hand slowed on the mouse, my cursor drifting still over the map. Instead of darting my eyes across my lane, I found myself watching the girl in the Gap hoodie instead. She was still outside, pacing back and forth, coming in and out of the shop. Her voice rose, sharp bursts cutting through the shop’s noise, though I still couldn’t make out the words. And she still wouldn’t shut up.

A loud noise howled from the other team. Keyboards hammered all around us.

“Yahoo! They’re going to get toasted, guys! Let’s finish this!” one of the sophomores exclaimed.

I darted my eyes back to the screen, hammering the keys and clicking the mouse. Our towers were already destroyed. The scores were turning into a landslide. Rick was already screaming.

“Dude! Focus! Where are you? We are losing!”

They kept calling my name.

“Jake! Jake, focus!”

Until our main tower was destroyed, and the words flashed across my screen — GAME OVER.

Rick grabbed his wallet and turned toward the counter. I went to him and grabbed his arm. “I’ll help pay,” I muttered, scratching my head.

“Dude, what just happened to you?” he asked.

We had to reset and lay low for a while. I turned off the game and switched over to Friendster, scanning my profile for new testimonials. I glanced at Bobby — he’d switched his screen to an NBA game, playing that instead.

Then I turned my attention back to Friendster, until my eyes drifted toward the lobby. I saw her. She came inside and went straight to our lane, sitting down hunched beside Bobby’s cubicle.

My eyes widened, my jaw dropping. I stood up and made my way to Bobby’s cubicle, leaning my body toward his screen.

“Dude, your rebound sucks,” I muttered.

My eyes darted to her computer. Her screen was filled with Yahoo chat rooms, messages from her friends. Her scent drifted toward me — the faint trace of vanilla perfume.

I glanced back at her face. Her eyes were already glassy with tears.

What kind of jerk would make her cry like that?

Seconds later, Bobby wobbled his arm. He accidentally hit her.

She stood up. Her hands clenched into fists as she started to glare at us. Tears slowly dropped from her eyes.

My eyes widened. I tapped Bobby to take it slow.

“Dude, you should take it easy... The lovely lady was about to cry.”

Silence then took over. Her glare made me stop talking. After a few seconds, she sat back down. She buried her face in her hands.

Suddenly, my chest tightened, and I found myself reaching for my handkerchief before I even decided to. I quietly whispered to her:

“Just let it all out, miss... No one will judge you here.”

She looked up at me, frowning. Her pale face suddenly glowed, even without the light touching her skin. The slow movement of her lips made me want to reach out and touch them.

Her eyes had a distinct color—one that seemed to shift whenever the light hit them.

And then I immediately told myself, Woah, Jake! She is definitely your type!

She took my handkerchief. No response, no thank you... nothing from her.

I wanted to comfort her, but I had no right to intrude on her life, right? I really hate being a nosy person, but I really can’t help it.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

But she didn’t answer. A few minutes later, she stood up, rushed toward the attendant, paid before I could react, and left. The doors swung open, and she was gone.

I wanted to follow her and ask for her name. So I went outside and looked for her, but she had already disappeared into the crowd.

And then it hit me.

Shoot! I didn’t get my hanky back... Well, maybe that’s it. But I really want to know her.

So I went back and asked the attendant, “Hey, that girl who just left—do you know her? Is she a regular?”

But sadly, the attendant couldn’t answer any of my questions.

The next day came. My mind had almost forgotten what happened last night. I came back to Main Avenue to buy materials for tomorrow’s class.

When I arrived, the traffic had reverted back to where it belonged. Horns still blared, but the cars were now on their usual route. The food carts had already disappeared. The park had become solemn.

I walked along the sidewalk and passed by the park. The blind masseuses were still there, massaging clients on the benches.

And then, suddenly, I found myself back at the internet shop again.

I went inside. The inside was solemn, unlike last night. But still—

The cubicles were almost full, and keyboards were hammering across the room. The melody hummed gently inside.

I went to the counter and asked for any available computer.

I sat in the assigned cubicle. I let myself drown in YouTube videos. Listened to different songs.

Slowly, I found myself looking for her name on Friendster. And at that moment, questions flooded my mind.

How will I even find her? I don’t even know her name.

I stood up and went to the attendant.

“Have you seen this type of girl?” I asked. “Her complexion was white. She has a small mole on her right cheek. And she was wearing a Gap hoodie last night.”

The attendant only shrugged and shook her head.

“Sorry bro, lots of girls come through here.”

My shoulders dropped. My eyes furrowed.

I sat back in my chair. Slowly, I found myself thinking, Maybe I could wait for her, hoping she’d come back.

So I waited.

But minutes became hours. I completed three sets of movies. Even played a bunch of NBA games. No girl entered from that door. Every time I heard the wind chime ring, I quickly glanced toward the door, hoping to see her again.

My hands clenched. A flashback suddenly rushed through my head.

Her face. Her eyes looking into mine. How I wished I had asked her name back then.

What would have happened if I had made my move? Would I have had her number?

I buried my face in my hands. Minutes later, I looked at them—they were trembling.

Without a second thought, I stood up, paid for my hours, and left.