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Basilio hadn’t always wanted to go into the medical field.
He had aspired to be a teacher when he was younger — like his father, who taught graduate classes where he and Basilio’s mother had first met. His father had left when he was younger though, walking out the door with his eight-year-old son’s dreams to be just like him. There were remnants of that dream, somewhere behind his eyes whenever his brother asked him for help with his school work.
He had considered several options after that — most of his interests being Science-related, save for a brief period in his life that he had taken interest in Philosophy and Theology. Agriculture and Botany were part of his top choices, but he thought had already been decided on Biology when he had an epiphany about becoming a doctor.
It had been a recent thing: his brother had gotten horribly sick while their mother was away for a few days, and Basilio felt incapable of helping him. (It was pneumonia, they had found out later on. They had been lucky that their mother came home when she did.)
He had taken that feeling of helplessness to heart, resolved to himself that he would learn how to help people. It had always been part of the plan to help people anyway, but it took more than the sheer will to help people to actually help people and he recognized that.
Unfortunately, along with the epiphany of wanting to become a doctor came the knowledge of the gruesome journey it took to get there.
“I’m not going to survive med school,” Basilio spoke, throwing himself to the ground and rolling onto his back. He let out a heavy sigh. “Alam mo ba kung gaano kahirap magtrabaho si ‘nay para sa amin ni Crispin? Magsasayang lang ako ng pera sa pagpunta ng college, wala rin naman akong mapapala sa pagkatapos.”
“What? You think I’m going to survive law school?” Isagani scoffed at him. He wondered briefly where his optimistic, idealist best friend had gone, though he figured that being a teenager currently faced with a major decision would suck a little soul out of anyone. “I’ll set foot into Ateneo on the first day of class and instead of being happy about taking my pre-law in my dream university, all I’ll be able to think about is how much I miss being a high schooler with you and the rest of our dumb friends.”
He rolled his eyes. “You’re Isagani Florentino,” he said, as though that was answer enough. “Of course you’re going to survive law school. You could and would crash a wedding and jump into a lake if you were given the right motivation. ‘Di mo alam ano’ng ibig sabihin para sumuko.”
“First of all, I would not,” Isagani defended. “Second of all, as if naman ikaw alam mo kung ano’ng ibig sabihin para sumuko.”
“I’m tired,” Basilio exasperated. “Lagi na lang akong ganito, ewan ko, Isagani. Pagod na pagod na ako. Feeling ko minsan na wala akong kwenta, at palagay ko madalas wala naman talaga. Deserve ni ‘nay ng mas—” He cut himself off, the words getting lost in his throat.
“Your mother loves you,” Isagani filled in, voice soft.
“I know that,” he grunted, swiping the balls of his hands roughly against his eyes. “You think I don’t know that? Of course I know that. Every damn time that I attempt to ease some of the weight off her shoulders, sasabihin niya lang sa’kin na mahal niya kami — na kami yung nagbibigay sa kanya ng lakas na kailangan niya at sapat na ‘yun.” He grabbed a fistful of grass and dirt. “Pero hindi siya sapat, Gani.”
“Basilio…”
He pursed his lips. “Med school is expensive,” he lamented. “I’m going to waste away there, and everyone will be better than me. Fuck. I have a little brother who's going to start college before I even get to finish my pre-med. My mother is a hard worker. She always took enough shifts to make sure that I didn’t have to work and help support our family, said it was because someone had to take care of Crispin while she was gone.”
He broke into a laugh. “Minsan naiisip kong tanongin, eh paano ako? Sino mag-aalaga sa’kin habang wala si nanay, diba? Pero hindi na lang ako umiimik. I worked hard to maintain a scholarship throughout Grade School and High School so she couls stay home on most Saturdays and come home early on some Fridays. But I can’t just…” He slammed his hand down to the ground, pulling at the grass as his voice broke into a frustrated grunt.
“Med school is expensive,” he decided to say, staring at the clouds that blurred in his vision. It was hard to distinguish between the pale blue of the sky and the grayish-white of the clouds, save for a few masses of white moving in front of his eyes. He took a deep breath, exhaling shakily just moments after. “And I will absolutely die.”
Isagani hummed in a vague sort of agreement — sympathy, perhaps.
“How about this?” Isagani started. “We’ll review for entrance exams together once the summer starts, answer those booklets that they have rather than going to a review center. We’ll keep each other on track. It’ll work out. You’ve been looking at a few scholarships, right? And if you get into UP, you won’t even have to worry about that. You can get a part-time job while you study, that way you can cover any additional college expenses. You can get a full-time job after college, too,” he suggested. “Give yourself a few years to earn enough to get you into med school, which you can and will survive.”
“Oh,” Basilio mumbled. “Well. That does sound… nice.”
“And,” Isagani said softly. “If you wanted, we could live together for college? We’ll take care of each other and make sure neither of us loses their mind, plus we’ll be able to split the cost of everything. It'll be… nice, if we get into the same college or aren’t too far from each other, then it could work. Just think about it, maybe.”
Basilio blinked up at the sky, heartbeat beginning to even out inside his ribcage. “What is there to think about? Of course I want that.”
“You’re good at this,” Basilio told him after a beat of silence.
Isagani turned his head to his side. “Good at what?”
“Being my best friend.”
(That one went straight to his heart.) “Basilio…”
He looked to his right, finding dark brown eyes that had already been looking at him. “I love you,” he said, simple. He didn’t have to say it — it was a given — but it rolled off his tongue so easily, so naturally. As in, mahal na mahal kita. ‘Di mo lang alam, Gani.
Isagani smiled at him, a small laugh cutting itself in the middle of his throat as though there had been a joke Basilio missed. He looked up at the clouds. “Of course,” he said back.
Basilio grinned, keeping his eyes trained on the other boy for a moment longer before doing the same and diverting his gaze back to the sky. “Of course,” he echoed.
And that was that.