ideal type(s).

So It Goes

ALL OF A SUDDEN, his phone rings.

He answers it, “Hello?”

I walk to him. “Hey, are you done? I’ll wash yours.” He hands me his plate and I put my bowl on it.

As I’m about to bring them to his sink, his gesture halts me.

He pulls his phone away from his ear while blinking very quickly for a brief second. But then, he puts it back. “Ma, we didn’t do anything, really. We’re just... chilling.” His lips have turned white.

Did I just put him into trouble?

I cover my mouth with my hand, while gasping.

I thought he’s a “free” man already. He seems to have moved out of his parents’ house.

He starts holding his phone with his shoulder, then he makes a “praying” gesture with his hands to me. Wait, what?

I gulp, and just randomly blurts, “H-heey, so, where’s your sink? I’ll wash it because—“ Because what, huh?

“You know, I have to go to other apartments too because....” I can’t sound like a e, and also shouldn’t.

“Because I’m currently...” I blink many times, I believe my body's started emitting some cold sweats. “—grounded that I have to do this community work of.... washing everyone’s plates, in this building, haha. What a life.”

Even I won't ever buy that story.

“I mean, I apologize, sir. I’ll stop joking around. This is my first day so it’s kind of not easy.”

This is really the final one.

He furrows his eyebrows like he doesn’t like my scheme, but then he chooses to go with it.

He suddenly mouths to me, “How about the chilling thing?”

“Ah, yes... thank you for the coffee, sir. Haha. You noticed that I was having a bad first day. Thank you so much. I’ll continue my work, then. Have a nice day!”

“This is all I got, sorry!” I mouth to him.

“Ok, thank you!” He whispers, with no sound produced.

---

“HOLY TTT!!!” He groans very loudly.

“Chill..” The dishes are done, so I’m heading back to the chair.

He’s supporting his jaw with both hands placed on the table.

“So, how’s your mom?” I ask him.

“Crazy.” He presses his eyes.

“She actually cried. I feel really awful..” He scratches his hair.

This sight is actually pleasing to me.

Wait! I don't hate him, at all. He's a nice guy. The idea of a guy that cares so much about his mother is y to me.

“I never lied to her in my life.” He mutters.

“That’s cool. I wish, I can relate to that.”

“You said the same thing last night. What happened to yours?” He looks at me, then clears his throat. “Sorry, am I allowed to ask you that?”

“Of course.” I sigh.

“I never know about my actual mom and dad. I was found in front of a certain church.”

“Didn’t you have a lot of moms, then?”

“I don’t know... the memory is vague. But I had a foster parent. A father. But he passed away.”

“I-I’m sorry...”

“It’s fine. I can talk about pretty much everything without being too emotional. Unless—”

“Didn’t you say that I had a mood swing last night?”

“Yeah—”

 

“It must be because of that silly tragedy. It’s patterned like a trauma in my brains.” I sigh.

“Sorry... that you had to witness all that. Haha.” I've let out a lot of awkward chuckles today. I should stop.

“It’s cool. I’m actually the one who should apologize to you. If only I didn’t ask so much, you might not—”

“You know what, let’s just forget that one too, ok?” I slightly grin at him. “Anyway, you didn’t tell any lie to your mom. I did.”

He shakes his head. “We did.” He sighs. “Sorry that I dragged you into this mess.”

“You saved me from sleeping on the street, dude! I’m thankful of you, instead.”

---

So I and he just told his mother a small lie today. But it’s white, anyway.

Why bother feeling that emotional about it?

“You must love your mom so much, huh?” I blurt.

“Yeah.. she’s the one who always believes in me in my family. Even more than myself, sometimes.”

“But now I’m being an ungrateful child. I hate myself.”

He needs to move on, really.

“Look, we both... didn’t do anything at all last night, right?”

“Yeah.” He still looks very down.

Man, you’re making me doubt you. I’ll kill you if you actually lied to me [earlier].

“You have to believe in yourself. Even your mom actually believes you at the end of the call, right?”

He darts his eyes to his shoes.

“Come on. I’m trying to cheer you up here.” I mutter.

He smirks. “Thanks, by the way.”

“Besides, you can just tell your mom the real truth once you meet her later, right?” I sigh. “But don’t tell her on the phone. She’ll always get the wrong idea. I saw that on movies.”

He chuckles.

 

“Is she your ideal type, by the way?” I ask a random question because I’m trying to help him move on from the I-think-I-just-lied-to-my-mom thing.

He furrows his eyebrow.

“I mean, since you love her so much, and look up to her too, I figure...”

“No.” He chokes, slightly. “I mean, yeah, I do love her and look up to her. I love how she’s very soft, loving and vulnerable—in a good way, of course—like, most of the time she even knows what I feel more accurately that myself. She’s very cool.”

“But... for ideal type, I think I like someone who’s not that vulnerable and able to stand by herself.” He presses his lips. “Having one mom figure is enough, you know.” He chuckles.

“Okay...:”

“Then, how about you?”

“Eh?”

“What’s your ideal type?”

“Umm...” What’s my ideal type? “I don’t think I have any.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“No, it’s true! I never put any thought on it.”

Geez, then put some now. How old are you?

“Are you probably.... not straight?”

“No, no, I’m straight. I had a boyfriend and you know that.”

“Ok, cool. But... the way you looked at some socialites in the amusement park, and the way you looked at your famous friend—“

“I do have this thing of can’t-help-but-staring-at-those-with-great-fashion-and-aura.” I squint. “By the way, they’re not socialites, but fashionable strong girls—according to my interpretation.”

“Wait, is she famous?” I’m talking about Yuxi.

“Huh? Yes?” He blurts.

“I knew it! She never believed me!”

He tilts his head, confused.

“Ok... to put it short, you do have a type.” He giggles. “The person has to be a guy, right?”

I guess.

“Haha funny.” I roll my eyes.

“So you seriously don’t have any particular type? Try thinking about what you dislike in a guy.”

That’s pretty genius.

“I think.... I hate guys with no respect for girls, in every aspect. Including things about what she likes and her dreams.”

“So, he has to be open-minded?”

“Yeah. I hate it when someone is too judging about my interests. Because I’m very open about this kind of thing.”

“That counts as a type.”

“Oh, and one more—”

“Ok, wow, you actually have two.” He giggles.

I slap his shoulder, gently—chill people. “Come on. I’m still figuring things out here.”

“Alright, go on.” He chuckles.

“I think... I like it if we both can respect each other. He doesn’t have to like what I like, though, just respect. Unless it’s a wrong thing, then I’m thankful if he’s willing to discuss that with me.”

“Wow, what a long list for someone with no type.”

I clench my fist and start hitting his arm, again gently.

“Ok ok, I’m sorry.” He’s coughing; trying to hold himself together.

---

“Anyway, which group do you sign yourself into tomorrow?”

“What group?”

“Extracurricular group?”

“Why should I bother signing myself to that?”

“Because you have to graduate?”

“What’s the relation?”

“You really know nothing about this, huh?” He presses his lips. “Our university obliges us to join at least 2 extracurricular groups, and apparently, it’s one of the requirements to graduate. So, are we clear now?”

Oh my fuc—” I clear my throat. “No no, no swearing.”

“We’re all grown-ups who seek college certificates to have a great job, right? All we have to do is just going to college and stay focused on it. So... why bother distracting us with this kind of thing? I’m-so-pissed.” I let out a heavy sigh.

“Great statement.” He pats me. “But, we still have to do all of them, anyway.”

“I hate whoever set this rule.”

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unfriend_haters
#1
Thank you for writing and sharing.