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The clock blinked 01:37 in angry red digits above the café counter. I’m on fifth coffee since the morning. But I feel like my brain in now immune to caffeine. Because I feel sleepy. Finals week is really not for the weak.
Around me, my friends do not look any better. Gwen and Sheena sat at the far end of the table, arguing over the five-centavo difference in their balance sheets. Maloi and Colet, meanwhile, had surrendered entirely. Colet’s leaning on Maloi's shoulder, who was trying to read a handout, but obviously failing. Mikha and Aiah had gone to 7-11 for water half an hour ago and still hadn’t returned. I knew I should check on them. I really should. But I am really, really sleepy.
I was just about to let my eyes drift shut when a sharp jab hit my side.
"Kurutin kita para magising ka," said a voice I knew all too well. Stacey’s. Like our other friends, her hair was messier than usual, and she had dark circles under her eyes, but somehow, she still looked annoyingly vibrant.
I turned my head slowly, blinking blearily. "Luh," I mumbled. “Anong kurutin?”
"Sabi ni Einstein yun," she said. "May journal article siya nung 1961. Weird Habits of Geniuses: Physical Stimulation to Stay Awake. Number 1: kurutin."
I stared at her, my brain too tired to process her words properly. Something about... Einstein? 1961? But wait...
"Anong journal article? Patay na kaya si Einstein nung 1955 palang," I croaked, suspicion finally breaking through the fog.
She waved a hand dismissively. "Late lang siguro na-publish!"
For a second, I genuinely doubted myself. She sounded so confident. But then I squinted harder, and suspicion flared. "If you're lying," I drawled, savoring the drama, "libre mo ako ng mozzarella sticks."
Stacey blinked. Now, a faint shadow of doubt crossed her face.
"Dalawang order," I said, grinning now. "One for me, one for playing with my super sleepy brain. Lilituhin mo pa ako."
Mozzarella sticks were something we don’t get often. At three hundred pesos per order, we can buy three meals already.
“Oh, ano?” I followed up.
Stacey groaned but caved. "Fine, I lied," she said dramatically, clutching her chest. "But kurutin pa rin kita," she added, pinching me again just for spite.
I yelped, more awake now than five cups of coffee could ever make me.
And just like that, a new tradition was born.
***
Over the next few months, "Mozzarella sticks, dalawang order?" became our thing. At first, we used it for the small stuff.
“Hindi ka talaga nag-advance study kagabi?” she asked me.
"Hindi nga," I lied.
“Hindi daw tapos perfect niyan mamaya. Mozzarella sticks, dalawang order?” Stacey teased, a playful glint in her eyes.
It was all light and fun—until we started using it for things more serious.
“Okay lang ba? Ang tahimik mo,” I asked, watching her closely.
"Oo naman," she answered with a smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Mozzarella sticks, dalawang order?” I challenged, raising an eyebrow.
That was when she broke, spilling everything that had been bothering her.
Another time, Stacey asked, “Hindi mo talaga crush si Marco?”
I shrugged. “Huy, hindi!”
“Mozzarella sticks, dalawang order?” she said, raising an eyebrow, calling me out.
I smirked. “Gawin mo pang sampung order.”
It pushed us to be honest. It made us brave.
It made our friendship stronger.
***
I didn't know when it changed. It didn’t happen in one grand moment.
In movies, they say you’ll hear bells. That their face will glow a little brighter. That you’ll feel butterflies in your stomach.
But for me, it was quieter than that. It was actually our friends who noticed first.
One time, Stacey was telling a funny story to the group, and everyone was laughing. Out of nowhere, Aiah looked over at me, raised an eyebrow, and asked, “Bakit ngiting-ngiti ka d'yan?”
And then I realized, I was smiling because Stacey’s laugh sounded so good.
Another time, Colet and I were buying snacks from the canteen when she suddenly raised a brow. “Akala ko ayaw mo niyang green na C2?”
I shrugged, my voice casual, but there was a slight pull in my chest. “Eh, gusto ni Staks ’to eh.”
And then, there was that afternoon when Sheena asked if I was going to a party. Gwen, always the fast talker, didn’t even wait for me to answer. “Naku, hindi naman ’yan sasama pag hindi kasama si Staks.”
They said it teasingly, but the truth was slowly setting in, settling deep in my chest.
By the time midterms rolled in, I knew.
I had fallen.
Another study marathon. The usual café. Bags under our eyes. The usual hum of half-empty coffee cups. We were again making coffee companies earn a lot by the number of coffees we drank.
"Uwi na tayo, antok ka na eh," I said, watching her rub her eyes.
“Hindi pa nga ako antok,” she mumbled, voice muffled by her hoodie sleeve.
I smirked, a playful jab. “Weh. Mozzarella sticks, dalawang order?”
She chuckled, a soft sound that didn’t quite reach her tired eyes. Then she yawned, stretched her arms overhead.
And then—without a word—she leaned sideways, resting her head on my shoulder.
I froze.
My heart slammed against my ribs so hard it hurt. Everything around me went quiet for a second. I could feel the warmth of her temple against me, the slight weight of her resting on me, the way our breaths fell into sync, slow and steady—like we’d done this before.
My hands twitched at my sides, frozen and unsure.
Move, my brain urged. Move before this gets awkward.
But I didn’t.
Because in that moment, still and simple and impossibly full, it was the best feeling I’d had in a long, long while.
***
Sometimes, I felt like Stacey wanted me too.
She’d wait for me to finish whatever project I was working on, even if it meant staying late, just so we could go home together.
She’d give me the food I liked—quietly, like it didn’t mean anything. One time, she even asked her mom to cook sinigang just because I mentioned it once in passing.
And sometimes, she’d look at me like she wanted me too. Like maybe I wasn’t the only one falling.
I confirmed it just few days later.
We were at Mikha's condo, celebrating the end of midterms. Finally!
Good food. A few drinks. Temporary replacement to the never-ending stream of coffee.
Our friends had already passed out in the living room, leaving Stacey and me alone. We stepped out onto the balcony, just to talk. As always, we talked about everything and nothing at the same time. Those conversations that loop and twist, like string wrapping around your fingers.
"Nakapunta na ako dun nung bata ako eh," I said, a lie slipping out without a second thought.
She didn’t even blink. "Talaga? Anong year?"
"Uh... grade four?" I lied again, my voice a little too steady.
"Eh di alam mo dapat na may slides dun!"
"Oo naman. Kulay yellow?"
She squinted at me like a teacher catching a student cheating. "Mozzarella sticks. Dalawang order," she said, a playful grin tugging at her lips.
I groaned, but it only made us laugh harder. Then, the laughter faded, leaving behind a quiet tension.
I felt her gaze shift from my eyes to my nose, and then... to my lips.
And then—
Without a word, without warning, she leaned in.
Her lips were on mine, soft and rushed, clumsy with a hint of something more. It wasn’t perfect.
It was urgent, messy, a little desperate.
But it was real.
For one brief, breathless second, the world seemed to hold its breath with me.
I kissed her back, just as unsteady.
But as quickly as she had leaned in, she pulled away.
Walked away.
Leaving me sitting there, stunned, with only the cold stone floor pressing against me. The silence stretched between us, the chill of the night suddenly ten times colder.
***
After that, everything changed.
She started avoiding me.
Instead of asking me to come with her, she’d ask Maloi to run errands—even the ones we used to do together.
The group chats got quieter. Colder.
Not cruel. Not obvious.
But I could feel it.
I just wanted to talk to Stacey again. Not just the polite exchanges about exams or plans, but real conversations.
I just wanted to hear her laugh so hard again, like we used to.
I just wanted to see her look at me the way she used to—like everything was simple.
It wasn’t until I caught her in the library that I finally got my chance. I saw Maloi walking out with Colet, which meant Stacey had to be alone.
She was sitting at a table, flipping through a heavy econ book, her eyes so focused on the pages that I wondered if she’d found the meaning of life hidden somewhere between them.
I stood in front of her, blocking her view until she had no choice but to look up.
“The kiss,” I said, my voice a little rough from not using it enough. “It didn’t mean anything, right?”
Her eyes met mine—guarded, unreadable.
Then she smiled. A tight, practiced smile. The kind that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “We were just drunk,” she said lightly, like it was obvious. Like it was safe to say.
Something inside me cracked.
But I didn’t move. I stayed there, steady. Quiet.
And then, I said it.
“Wala talaga? Mozzarella sticks?”
Her hands froze on the page, her fingers gripping the book a little tighter.
I stepped closer. This time, I wasn’t letting her dodge it.
“Dalawang order?”
It was our code. She shouldn’t break it now.
The silence stretched between us, heavy and taut, like it was on the edge of breaking.
Finally, she let out a shaky laugh, just one breath. Barely there. “Oo, wala lang 'yun.”
That night, when I got back to my dorm, something was waiting by the door.
A brown paper bag. The pink sticky note attached told me exactly who it was from.
Inside?
Two orders of mozzarella sticks.