On the Passenger Seat

As he was driving through the eskinitas of Manila in this warm summer evening, I couldn't help myself but watch how the street lights and incoming headlights outline his face. I could barely see his eyes through those chink lids and the lights bouncing off his spectacles.

His glance draws towards my side; I quickly look away. Meeting his eyes would be my doom - I'd loose composure and would simply blush and melt, and gently slide myself to his right arm, and cling to him tightly like any clingy pubescent in love. I'm sure he'd like that, and would let go of the gear shifter and rather hold my hand.

One block after the other, I cannot stop staring at him. He notices and catch me looking. His stare finally caught me. I flash him a guilty look with my puppy dog eyes. I run my left hand over my left thigh and extend my left fifth digit, aiming for his right hand gripping the gear shifter. Our pinkies brush pleasantries, and  welcomes my subtle gesture. We lock pinkies, and both let out a sigh... well, he also let out a short soft giggle - I guess I'm not the only one keeping his cool.

"Anak di ba kayo nagugutom?"

Somewhat startled, we break contact. I look behind at the backseat to answer mom's query...

VS: Gutom na ko... Morato?

Like those teenagers in love, we snicker at each other.