We Real Cool

And in this kind of situation, I bet anyone in my shoes—someone starved, semi-injured, and mentally drained, that is—would feel the same way. Actually, thanks to the noise and the crowd, I think I might already have lost it. And I"m sure you"ll understand why.

For starters, the queue for admission snaked for about seven thousand miles. No, make it eight or ten thousand even. Now, imagine this eight-to-ten thousand-mile-long queue moving at a rate of 4 miles per hour (slower than my preferred speed on the treadmill).

At the end of this ten-thousand-mile-long line are two bulky men in identical black shirts checking people"s tickets. What annoys me the most is the fact that they did they do their jobs without the slightest sense of urgency. If all they have to do are to get the ticket and rip it, I would probably be twenty steps ahead from where I"m now. One of them can even manage to strike a conversation with some random person in line. It sure is nice of him to do be so friendly, but similarly evil of him to do this to the rest of us—to me. I"m crying on the inside.

Also, the gigantic speakers state of being in full volume just makes everything worse. The fact that they"re spewing some heavy metal song, which I don"t exactly know of, isn"t helping either. It wouldn"t have been such a pain listening to it if only the other set of speakers from the inside of the stadium isn"t playing a totally different song as well. To top it all off, since our bus left later than planned and since I was seated at the rear end, I am now the third-to-the-last person inline. The only people behind me are Red and a stranger who arrived a few minutes after we did.

It made me feel ever so guilty that everyone in my bus arrived last because I came in late And now, we"re all stuck in a non moving eight-thousand-mile-long queue. I feel like I"m being punished by my inability to thrive in noisy and crowded places like this for that mistake. There"s just so much noise, so many people, and so much pain and guilt in my soul that for a moment, my legs feel like noodles, my whole body like melting ice cream, and my head like a thousand tons.

Let"s not forget the fact that noise pierced through my ears so bad I feel like my eardrums are going to explode soon. I can"t even hear what Red is now saying.

"What?" I mouth back at him.

I know that even if I screamed, he wouldn"t hear me well; it"s just too loud out here. Also, I didn"t have the energy and the mood to yell. Hence, the mouthing.

In response, he grabs my hand and hand me something. My ticket. And as though he can read my mind, he shows me his and rea.s.sures me that we"d be sitting side by side. Right. The proctors are supposed to distribute the tickets and we"re also supposed to be with our "buddies". I happen to have been a.s.signed under him both as a proctor and a buddy so I guess, if all else fails and I end up feeling sick, bored or tired of the game, at least I get to have a good conversation.

"How long do you think we"ll be out here?" I asked him, half-screaming while making gestures, hoping that he"d understand me amidst the low-key bedlam. I don"t know how he heard me, but I guess he did because he actually answered; I just didn"t hear what he said. After he finished speaking, I just shook my head and raised my brows, trying to tell him that I didn"t catch what he was hoping to tell me; he just gave me a little smirk. It"s pretty obvious that I"m not used to this kind of environment. He, on the other hand, is a natural. This was his world.

Almost immediately, he took his phone out and started swiping away. I thought he was going to brush me off and just play some game, but a few seconds later, I received a text.

Red: At most, probably half an hour. Five minutes if the people pick up the pace or if some miracle happens. Don"t worry. The game"s at seven.

It"s now 6:20. It"s been about 24 hours since my last meal, yesterday"s dinner, and I can still remember the roasted chicken and the mashed potatoes I had. The thought makes me drool, and boy do I want to grab something to eat ASAP.

Me: Seriously?

Red: I wish I were kidding.

Me: SERIOUSLY, I WANT TO GET THIS DONE ALREADY. I"M STARVING.

Red: EVERYONE ELSE HERE WANTS TO GET THIS DONE AS WELL, BUT IT"S HARD FOR ME TO BELIEVE THAT YOU REALLY WANT TO SEE THE GAME AND GET THIS OVER WITH BECAUSE YOU WERE LATE.

Me: Guilty. You win, Mr.

Red: Actually, it"s boss. I like "boss" better.

Me: Well then, boss, let me tell you something: You"re nuts so yeah, WHATEVER.

Red: Thank you.

I look up from my phone and laugh at his face so bad I"m glad that the blaring speakers make it too loud for anyone to hear me. He just gives me his poker face, which makes me laugh even harder.

Me: YOU"RE NUTS

Once again, I look up to see his reaction. This time, his brows are raised. He"s also winking in a way that only a stand-up comedian would. I know he"s doing this to cheer me up, but he only ends up looking cute. The only reason why I"m still laughing is because he"s desperately trying to look funny. And cute.

Me: Kidding aside, do you think the ten minutes will be enough to grab some food? Because, boss, I am starving so bad I could eat you.

I don"t know how he reacted to this message of mine because by the time I looked at him, he was on his phone again. I shouldn"t have said that. He might think I"m acting too weird or too forward or something. He was probably going to say something I wouldn"t particularly like, but instead, I received this message from him:

Red: Follow me.
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"Where?" I asked.

While I hope he did, I don"t think he heard me because he didn"t answer. He simply made a gesture for me to stay in place, which was weird because he just literally told me to follow him. I stayed in place nonetheless. My eyes trailed after him as he walked all the way to Ericka and whispered something in her ear. I have no idea about what he was trying to tell her but it sure did lessen the negative aura around the poor girl. Just a second ago, she looked like she could rip one of the students" ribs out for some misconduct. Now that Red was doing his thing – the sweet talk kind of thing – Ericka"s frown and furrowed brows disappeared. Like I said, Red is a natural when it comes to taking the tension out of situations like this. I bet he could even tame a starving tiger like Pi did.

Finally, Red steps back and looks at Ericka for quite a while; she looks back at him. For a moment, I feel a little sting in my chest. I want to look away and get this little jealousy out of my way, but my eyes are glued to them. They look quite calm and sweet amidst the crowd and noise around them, and it"s impossible not to be green-eyed about it. All along, I though Red was into me. I guess he could be into many other girls at the same time. I don"t know.

After what felt like an eternity of torture watching them from a distance, Ericka finally gave him a nod. This was probably some good news because when he turned around and started walking back to me, he was smiling. I shift back my attention on my phone, pretending that I didn"t just spend that last few minutes spying on him. Kind of.

"Let"s go," he said as soon as he reached me.

I was about to ask him where we were going or what he meant by "let"s go" at the very least, but just as I was about to, he grabbed my hand and started marching away. My head told me to resist him and stay put; I should never leave the queue for some mysterious adventure. Besides, I didn"t have the energy to go on an adventure. But my heart said otherwise.

It told me to put my phone back in my pocket and follow his lead. It told me to break the rules just this one time and go on an adventure to Mt. Everest, the Sahara Desert, or who-knows-where but Red.