To Whom the Last Beer Falls

“Can I go in for a while?” Marco asked while I was getting off his car.

I checked my watch and invited him in. It was only 10 pm. Besides, it was raining like hell. The weather was a little showery when we left Tapsi, once our favorite drinking place around the UST area. There, we had a couple of beer and laughed about everything like we never parted ways.

“You haven’t changed.” He said as soon as he got a glimpse of my messy place. “I see. You got rid of the aquarium. Where are the fishes?” He added, referring to the missing, inconspicuous aquarium on the corner he gave last year as a birthday present.

"They landed on the frying pan when my budget ran short." I jokingly said. He was used to me not giving the direct answer.

I cleared the sofa of books and and loose papers. He attempted to help me out but suddenly decided to just stand on one corner. I remembered the time when he used to fix the mess himself and, all the time, nagging about my need to organize things, more so my thoughts. A cell phone suddenly rang and brought me back to present.

“It’s yours.” Marco handed my phone from the table.

It was Ian whom I was with earlier that day. Ian is a very nice person, and if ever somebody asks me about it, it’s one of those rare moments when I’d say “I don’t know.” I mean, I just don’t see anything coming, though I certainly enjoy every moment with him. Maybe, we are just friends; Maybe, we’re just both playing it safe. Again, I don’t know.

“Dude, what’s up?” I asked after turning on the television. I walked towards the bathroom for some privacy.

“Bored. I was thinking if you’d like to have a few beers. That is, if you’re not doing something right now.” Ian’s place is just a 20-minute ride from mine.

“I’m a little drank, dude. You should have told me earlier.” I almost said. Instead, “I could still have a few bottles of beer. Let’s meet in Timog after an hour? Same place. I hope the rain stops by then.”

“Ok 11 p.m. then. See you.” He hanged up.

Back on the sofa, Marco was restlessly surfing the cable. I sat beside him and asked him to just stick to one channel. “Can’t Hardly Wait” was being played on HBO. After a while, I felt his hand reach for my back. I felt my pulse quicken but pretended to be amused with the movie as it shows fate playing around the lives of the characters. A supposedly funny sex scene in the movie caught my attention and made me laugh. He laughed, too, as he awkwardly held my hand with his. I broke from the grip and reached for the remote, commenting that I could not hear a thing the characters were saying.

“You’re already drunk.”, he said.

“No. It’s the rain.” I nonchalantly replied.

I got us more beers from the fridge beside the window. Although the rain had already stopped, faint drizzles still blurred the windowpane. I opened the windows and absorbed the fresh air. From the 4th floor, I got a whiff of the wet alleys from the neigbourhood - the kind that tells you a rain had just passed. Indeed, a damp night like this could be a revelation.

The wall clock said it was thirty minutes past ten.

“One for the road?” I turned around and handed him a can of beer.