BORACAY BITTERSWEET
The sky is a mix of violet and fiery orange. Sofia, Rose, and Biboy are lounging on beanbags at a beachfront cafe.
"Sofia Yvaine San Diego, I swear to all the saints, if you flip one more page of that reviewer, I will throw it into the Sulu Sea."
Biboy didn't even look up from his grilled corn, but his voice was full of dramatic judgment. He was wearing a neon-pink Hawaiian shirt that was unbuttoned way too low for someone with zero chest hair.
Sofia sighed, her thumb marking page 42 of Introduction to Advanced Calculus. "It's called 'advanced reading,' Biboy. Grade 11 STEM is no joke. Do you want me to enter the gates of St. Paul looking like a lost puppy?"
"Girl, it's Boracay!" Rose chimed in, lowering her digital camera. she looked effortlessly chic in a white linen coordinates set. "Look at the horizon. The aesthetic is peaking, and you're here worrying about limits and derivatives? Sayang ang sunset! Move, let me take a photo of you. Pose like you're not a nerd for one second."
Sofia groaned but closed the book, setting it on the low table next to her half-empty Jonah's fruit shake. "Fine. One photo. But if my GWA drops because I spent ten minutes being a 'model,' I'm blaming you both."
"Blame us later, slay now," Biboy said, standing up and brushing sand off his shorts. He grabbed a stick and started doodling in the damp sand near their beanbags.
Sofia watched him, suspicious. "What are you doing, Benjamin?"
"Playing the most dangerous game known to mankind," Biboy smirked. He wrote two names in large, messy letters: SOFIA YVAINE and NATHAN DRAKE.
Sofia's eyes widened. "Biboy, erase that. Now."
But Biboy was already writing. SOFIA YVAINE and NATHAN DRAKE. He started crossing out letters. "F... L... A... M... E... S..."
"Biboy, erase that. It's not funny," Sofia's voice went sharp. "That was a month ago. We're not in Junior High anymore. He's an ex for a reason."
"An ex you haven't talked to since the Moving Up ceremony," Rose added softly, her eyes sympathetic. "But the letters don't lie, Sof. Look."
Sofia watched the letters disappear. She remembered the way Nathan used to walk her to her car after school, and how he always brought her a sugar-free latte during exam week because he knew she'd be up all night.
"M," Biboy whispered, his eyes widening. "Still M. Marriage."
"It's just a game, Biboy," Sofia said, her voice trembling slightly. "The sand will wash it away in five minutes."
"The sand might, but I won’t." The trio froze. Sofia didn't even need to turn around to know who it was. That voice—low, calm, and always a little bit playful—belonged to only one person.
Nathan Drake Madrigal stood there, looking far too handsome for someone who had just come out of the water. He was holding a surfboard, his tanned skin glistening under the moonlight. He wasn't the rival she was worried about—he was the boy who still held a piece of her heart, even if she refused to admit it.
"Nathan," Sofia breathed.
"Hey, Sof," he said softly. He didn't look at Biboy or Rose; his eyes were locked on hers. He looked down at the 'M' circled in the sand and a small, bittersweet smile touched his lips. "I see Biboy is still playing the matchmaker."
"He's being an idiot," Sofia said quickly, standing up and brushing the sand off her legs. "We were just leaving."
"Wait," Nathan reached out, his hand hovering near her arm but not quite touching it. "I heard the rumors too, Sofia. About the Guevarra guy. The new Rank 1 contender.”
Sofia stiffened. "I can handle a rival, Nathan."
"I know you can," Nathan whispered, his gaze softening. "You're the smartest girl I've ever known. But don't get so caught up in the war that you forget to breathe. You always did that when we were together—you'd forget the world exists when you're studying."
Sofia looked away, the memory of their breakup—the long hours she spent in the library instead of with him—stinging fresh. "Maybe that's why it didn't work out."
Nathan stepped closer, the scent of sea salt and his familiar cologne hitting her. "I'm not here to compete with you, Sof. I never was. I'm just... I'm just going to be there. In the background. Rooting for you."
He reached down, picked up a small seashell from the sand, and pressed it into her hand. "For luck. You're going to need it against Guevarra. He's cold, Sofia. He doesn't play fair like I do."
Before she could respond, Nathan turned and started walking toward the beach bonfire where his friends were waiting.
Rose sighed dreamily. "He is so still in love with you, it's actually painful to watch."
Biboy nodded, looking at the seashell in Sofia's palm. "Liam Guevarra might be your rival for the gold medal, Sof... but Nathan? He's the rival for your attention."
Sofia gripped the seashell tight, her eyes following Nathan's silhouette. She had a feeling that Grade 11 wasn't just going to be a battle of brains. It was going to be a battle of the heart.
