Monday

/June 14, 2010/

The first time she sees him after two months of summer apart, she can't breathe.

He's still the same twelve-year-old boy he was when they graduated sixth grade, but not. He's grown taller, lost some baby fat; but his eyes are as dark as ever and his hair as cropped as it always is and –

Claire can't breathe.

He steps in front of her, smiling an easy smile. "Hey, Claire," he grins at her.

Her hands shake and she becomes acutely aware of her messy hair, but she manages to smile back at him. The effort it takes is enormous. "Hi, Ray."

He laughs so infectiously that she ends up laughing, too, and then they walk into their classroom together (omgomgomg they're in the same section! Claire wants to scream) and when Ray nominates Claire and Claire nominates Ray as class president and vice president respectively, neither of them can stop laughing.

(Claire, meet your vice.)


Tuesday

/August 17, 2010/

"If you really had a crush on me, you'd have memorized my number."

Claire's face is bright red with anger and embarrassment. ""Give me back my phone, Ray!"

Ray waggles the purple cellphone in front of her. "Not until you tell me my number," he sing-songs, and damn it, but he is adorable when he's like this!

Claire feels the scream building up in her throat and the tears stinging at her eyes. She should have known, she should have known, Ray is a boy and boys are stupid, she should have known Ray would never ever like her back, that he would tease her about the crush, of course he would make fun of her –

Steeling herself, she looks at him straight in the eye. "I haven't memorized your number yet," she says, accidentally-on-purpose emphasizing the yet. "Now please give it back, Ray!"

Ray drops the phone in her hand. Just as she turns to leave, he taps her on the shoulder...

...and winks.


Wednesday

/September 26, 2012/

Ray's mouth has dropped open.

"Excuse me?"

The dark-eyed, short-haired girl stared impassively back at him. She's not twelve anymore, cringing and crying and desperate for any attention from him. She's fifteen, a junior, stronger than she's ever been.

And she's so tired of it all.

"I said, I needed to talk to you."

Ray raises an eyebrow. "Talk, then."

Claire visibly takes a deep breath, then speaks.

"I've been in love with you since freshman year. And if you don't mind, Ray, I would like for it to be over."

Ray chokes. "What?"

Claire repeats, "I would like this to stop."

"What is this? We never had a this!"

For the first time, her impassive facade cracks. "This, Ray! This!" She gestures between them as if encompassing the concept of this. "Three years, Ray. Three years! While you've been off chasing Ella and goodness knows who else, I've been in love with you. And now Riza has a crush on you, and I know that you know that, and I – and she thinks that our friendship will be ruined because of that. Well, I won't let it. I can't let it. I know that I'll die of jealousy if I see you and Riza together...if you like Riza back. So I would like to end my crush on you, once and for all."

"As if you could," Ray sneers, before realizing what she is telling him.

She's telling him she wants it to be over. Three years of ducking into classrooms to avoid her, enduring endless taunts from his barkada about her...over. She's telling him it's going to end. She's telling him that he's going to be free, that he's going to be free to have anyone, date anyone, because Claire Luis would be over him and his crushes wouldn't feel guilty about 'stealing' another girl's crush.

He's going to be free from Claire Luis.

...He hadn't noticed that Claire was talking until she was almost done with her sentence. "...achieve closure. So I want you to be totally frank with me."

"What?"

Claire rolled her eyes, and oh, how he hates that, how she can make him feel so stupid. "Be honest! Tell me everything. How much you hate me. How much I screwed up your life. How Ella's prettier. Whatever! And when it's over, Ray...I promise I'll never even speak to you again. I just want it to be done."

Ray laughs. Harshly.

"Everything? You want to know everything?"

For a moment he wants to blurt out his innermost thoughts (you're actually prettier than Ella), but then he reminds himself this is Claire. Irritating Claire, who has made his barkada laugh at him about a million times. Just thinking about the humiliation she put him through is enough to steel his resolve.

He looks her dead in the eye.

"Claire Luis. I have never and will never like you. In fact, your liking me was like the worst thing to ever happen to my romantic prospects. So if you were expecting that I would confess that I like you, well, that's not going to happen. I. Don't. Like you.

"Is that enough closure for you?"

For a moment, Claire looks like she's going to collapse and start crying, and Ray swears if she does he'll – he'll – he'll do something and he's not sure what but something – but then she draws herself up and says evenly, "Thank you, Ray. Yes. It was enough."

Satisfied, he nods (and pretends he doesn't feel the twinge of guilt in his chest). Pivoting on his heel, he turns to walk away.

A tap on his shoulder stops him.

"Oh, Ray, one last thing. Before you walk away from me."

She winds up and punches him in the face.


Thursday

/September 16, 2010/

"Hi, Claire," he says awkwardly, leaning on her desk.

She looks up and blushes tomato red. "Hi, Ray."

The sunlight glints on her hair, making it shine, and her whole face is framed by a halo. He turns away, then thrusts a hand into his pocket and pulls out a slightly crushed gumamela.

"Here. This is for you."

She blushes even redder. "Ray, thank –"

He doesn't wait to hear her stammering thanks. He hightails it out of there to tell his friends he completed the dare before he does something stupid (like tuck the flower in her hair).


Friday

/December 20, 2011/

"You don't have any right to him!"

"But I love him!"

"But I loved him first!"

Claire and Ella glare at each other, unconsciously shifting into battle stances as they do so.

"Oh yeah?" Ella jeers. "Guess what? He chose me!"

Claire screams, inarticulate with rage. "You – you –"

Ella laughs cruelly. "But he chose me, Claire," she croons, soft and sweet and poisonous, her words like silk gliding across Claire's skin. "He chose me."

Claire clenches her fingers.

"It doesn't matter," she forces out. "I was first. I thought we were friends. I thought there was no thievery allowed in friendship."

Ella laughs again, high and sweet and fakefakefake. She really is pretty – pixie-cut hair, dark eyes, fine-boned features. But she's also slender to the point of anorexia, and much too pale to be healthy.

Claire looks at her and hates.

Hates the short dark hair (like hers). Hates the chin and cheekbones (like hers). Hates the delicate bones of her body (so like hers).

Hates that Ella Armando looks so much like Claire Luis that they could be long-lost twins.

And yet Ray chose her.

"Claire-bear, Claire-bear," Ella croons, sickeningly sweet. "It's not thievery if he was never really yours to begin with."


Saturday

/February 9, 2013/

When Prince Jimenez and Claire Luis walk into prom together, the whole room hushes.

They are a striking couple. Prince is clad in immaculate black, roguishly adorable, all mischievous smirks and tilts of chin. Peter Pan plays on his face, that fey boy who would never grow up and yet made girls fall in love with him anyway. Claire, on the other hand, is a veritable Wendy, though she is clad in pink. Her gown is sweetly, innocently young, but with that touch of grown-up femininity that defines Claire. She's pink all over – from her cheeks to her lip gloss to the ribbons in her hair – and the way her angelic prettiness and Prince's confident cuteness complement each other is enough to make the world stop and stare.

Well, most of the world.

It makes him want to smash something.

"Ray? Ray, darling."

He glances down at Ella, who's tugging him down into his seat. Huh. He hadn't even noticed he was standing.

Ella. Ella is normally pretty, in an overly pale Twilight vampire way, but tonight she's shed the sparkle and donned the vamp. Tonight, she's alluring. And sexy. And hot. He'd been proud to have such a girl on his arm earlier, as they walked through the doors to screams and cheers. But now, after the appearance of sweet, innocently lovely Claire...

...Ella feels tainted. Wrong. Like a plastic bloom next to a perfect pink cherry blossom.

He shakes his head to rid himself of those thoughts. What does he care about Claire Luis?

He doesn't. That's the answer, he doesn't. It's probably just the champagne talking.

(He chooses not to notice the way his fingers clench around his champagne flute as Prince and Claire waltz slowly across the floor.)


Sunday

somewhere far into the future...

The first time he sees her after two years of college apart, he can't breathe.

She's still the same girl she was at sixteen when they graduated high school, but not. She's grown taller, finally put on some much-needed weight, but her smile is as perfect and her laughter as sweet as it always had been and –

Ray can't breathe.

She's walking in front of him, totally occupied with talking to the person she's on the phone with, giggling occasionally as she chatters away.

"...really? That's awesome. I'm glad you're coming home...Yes, yes, Juliette and I will clean the house. We promise. Well, I promise, Juliette might be out with Gerald...Okay. Okay. I'll see you soon. I love you too, Bosh!"

He stops cold.

Who is Bosh and why is she saying I love you to him?

That simply would not do.

He takes out his phone and texts an old high school friend.

Three minutes later, he is in the possession of Claire Luis's current number.

He is also in the possession of an all-caps text message.

"THIS IS YOUR SECOND CHANCE. DON'T MESS IT UP."

He promises to try his damned best.