𝗠𝘆 𝗖𝘂𝗽 𝗼𝗳 𝗧𝗲𝗮
It was summer of 2019. A bustling mall in the heart of Metro Manila, where the scent of freshly baked waffles and sweet vanilla ice cream filled the air. A senior high school student named Cell found himself seeking solace in a popular milk tea shop while waiting for his family to join him.
The place was teeming with people of all walks of life, each with their own stories and reasons for being there.
“Sir, sugar level po?” The cashier asked me the same question three times in a row, I felt a rising tide of pressure, at dahil mahaba na rin ang pila, at puno ako ng pangamba, nagpatalo ako rito at hindi na nagtanong.
“Ano po basta matamis, segunda po sana,” I blurted out, trying to keep my composure. The cashier responded with a warm smile and a soft chuckle, as if my indecision was a charming quirk rather than a source of embarrassment. He insisted on giving my best friend Kimmy and me a perfectly sweetened chocolate milk tea, a gesture that felt oddly comforting amidst the bustling ambiance.
With so many orders piling up, it seemed our gossip session would stretch on. “There’s an available seat in the dine-in area; let’s sit down first!” Kimmy shouted, her laughter ringing out like music. She immediately pivoted the conversation, asking me about my college plans. I hesitated, the truth lingering on the tip of my tongue—I hadn’t given it much thought. Her laughter bubbled over once again.
The atmosphere around us shimmered with pastel hues of happiness as groups of young people sang along to the catchy background tunes echoing through the mall.
‘Ay, feeling good, like I should, went and took a walk around the neighborhood, feeling blessed, never stressed…’
In that moment, I belted out, “Got that sunshine on my Sunday best (yeah!)” My confidence soared, I felt my diva attitude echoing all the way to the third floor
I caught a glimpse of Kimmy’s uvula. She's laughing with her mouth wide open, “Anak ito ng tonsils ko!” she quipped, and we seamlessly returned to the topic of my future plan.
I recalled a drama I had watched where the brave female lead was a journalist with a prosecutor love interest. “I want to be a journalist,” I declared, feeling a spark of inspiration.
Kimmy gazed at me as if she had seen a ghost, her eyes wide with excitement. “I’m here for you, anytime you want to interview me!” she exclaimed. I leaned in, enveloping her in a tight hug. “Cell, I have so many things I want to learn; I’m still undecided,” she added, her voice a mixture of hope and uncertainty.
Just then, a voice called out, announcing that our drinks were ready. I quickly rose to fetch them, only to find Kimmy standing, speaking anxiously on the phone with her father, who urgently asked her to come home due to an emergency. My heart sank as I spotted her dad approaching, his face etched with worry.
I was about to hand her the milk tea, but she looked at me, trembling with fear. “Cell, you go ahead and wait for Miley. Please tell her I’m leaving first.” It was a bittersweet moment as I watched her leave, knowing our plans had shifted. Unfortunately, Miley never arrived that night.
This place remains as vibrant as ever, the air still crisp, and the sweet scent of waffles and vanilla ice cream lingered in the air. “Hello, Sir, order po?” the cashier prompted. “1 large choco hazelnut, with pearls and coconut jelly, 70% sugar, less ice,” I replied, my mind racing with thoughts of the day ahead.
It was a busy day, especially for a fourth-year college student like me. I really needed a two-hour break from my thesis. "I think I'll treat myself to some milk tea and write my name in the sand," I thought, enjoying the idea of making some sweet memories.
The mall radiated Miley Cyrus energy this summer, a blend of carefree spirit and vibrant life. As I settled into the dining area, waiting for my name to be called, my phone rang. It was Kimmy, her laughter spilling through the line the moment my face appeared on her screen.
She was on her way to our secret spot, a hidden gem known only to the two of us—a sanctuary where we could escape the world. We had kept it to ourselves, sharing it only with our father, who had stood by us since my twin sister Kimmy had been diagnosed with Catatonic Schizophrenia when we were just 16 years old.
In this whirlwind of emotions and experiences, I realized that the essence of summer was not merely in the bustling crowds and delightful scents, but in the bonds we share, the laughter that echoes, and the dreams we dare to pursue.
Written by Rasel Calamba , Staff Writer
Photo by Julia Monte, Photojournalist
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