Chapter 3

 

“Told you Megan wouldn’t be down with it,” Logan mumbles under his breath as he pointedly looks at Danica sitting right next to him.

Being the very culprit of the reunion in Batangas, she isn’t in the least fazed by his actions. It’s not like she’s been planning it for years. But when Naia mentioned that her mom was planning a big RT reunion a few months ago, it got her thinking. She’s always wanted the people involved in the 2010 incident to reconcile in some sort of way. Granted that she sides more with Megan and the others, she still doesn’t want any bad blood within the group.

The RT community is quite small, much less the Filipino RT community. There’s no way they weren’t going to at least bump into each other at some point in time. Prime example would be the Dela Vegas and Villaviejas. Both are close family friends, since Mr. Dela Vega is Megan’s godfather.

“I never said it was going to be easy,” Danica claims, raising an eyebrow his way, “Besides, she has every right to be that way.”

“That was years ago and it was blown out of proportion,” he counters. But if he’s being completely honest, he actually wants to see how Megan’s doing. They were somewhat close, because they shared the same sense of humor.

Danica couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his stubborn argument. “Oh, I’m sorry. Tell me again who proclaimed oh so proudly that RT kids who’re studying in the Philippines are total losers???”

Though it’s slightly unrelated to the main issue regarding the 2010 incident, this statement of Logan from years back can possibly be connected to it. A minor comment that may or may not have added fire to the conflict.

“Well, I didn’t…mean… that…” he drawls, avoiding any sort of eye contact with her.

She scoffs, “Yeah, like you don’t MEAN to be a Trump supporter?”

His eyes suddenly snap to her as he hisses, “Will you STOP bringing that up? That is neither here nor there!!”

“It’s still disgusting,” she retorts, folding her arms across her chest.

Before Logan can even utter a word to mend his pride, a stewardess interrupts their heated exchange. “Hi sir, tea or coffee?”

“Hmm…” He feigns pondering about his decision with a forced smile. “Which one can stop unreasonable people from acting up?”

“I’m sorry?” the uniformed woman asks, not quite catching his question.

“Ignore him. He’ll have nothing,” Danica cuts him off while sharing a pleasant smile with the stewardess. “I’ll have a cup of tea, please.”

“Now you’re deciding what I drink?!” Logan protests, throwing his hands up.

“…what you don’t actually,” she corrects with a completely straight face. Inside though, she’s dying from laughter at how hysterical he’s acting.

“Here you go, ma’am.” The stewardess hands Danica her drink and giggles at the two bickering. “You two make a lovely couple.”

Danica lets out a nervous laugh. “No, no, no. You’re mistak–”

“That’s so sweet of you, thank you. We’re about to celebrate our first anniversary actually.” Logan flashes the brightest grin.

“Really? Congratulations!” the stewardess bubbles before moving on to the next passenger for refreshments.

A look of horror washes over Danica as she flails her arms about towards the woman. “No, no! Miss!! No. You’re wrong! Excuse me!”

The stewardess merely shares a polite smile and carries on with her business.

Though Logan is silently celebrating, Danica ruins it by punching him hard on the thighs.

“OW!!!!” he exclaims, receiving a few dirty looks from other passengers.

Danica fakes a smile and hisses near his ear warningly, “Do that again and I’m hitting somewhere far worse.”

Unimpressed by her soft threat, Logan glares. “This is oppression. A dictatorship.”

“Fine by me, Trump groupie.” She shoots a glare right back at him.

“God, why did I get on a plane with you and not Dell?!” he complains, though it sounds more like a whine. Maybe even a cry for help.

Danica’s distinct hysterical laughter makes its way out of her delicate mouth. “I don’t know… maybe you’re not as smart as you think.”

Knowing he’s been defeated this time, his voice falters and he turns away from her. “I’m done talking to you.”

She only shrugs and snorts at the childish sight before her.

They’re going to be stuck next to each other for at least nineteen hours, so he’s bound to give up on his silent treatment. She just knows. It also doesn’t help that he’s got the middle seat and she, the window. All she has to do is wait for him to blow up. And who wins? Glorious and victorious her.

Just as she’s about to relax and enjoy some peace and quiet, she feels a hard nudge on her right arm, instantly leaving her armrest-less on one side. She immediately shoots a glare at the perpetrator.

Logan only feigns a smile, proud of his achievement. He knew it wasn’t going to be an easy feat, occupying her armrest. Danica is one of the most athletic and physically strong people he knows (not as much as him though) after all.

She grimaces, feeling her jaw clench at his smug expression. This bitch… She thinks to herself as an idea pops in her head. In almost an instant, she lunges towards him and pulls the silliest face she could muster.

He flinches at the sudden intrusion and avoids her, but his arm remains on the armrest. He manages to snort, amused at her failed attempt to get him to lift his arm, as the silent war continues.

“Move! Over!!!!” she finally barks after a few minutes. She’s not going to be bullied by some piece of scum, especially when it involves her basic human right to rest her arm wherever she wanted. “You’re so fucking bulky!!!”

His fake smile turns into an arrogant smirk as he teases, “You’re TINY. Deal with it.”

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is round two of Logan and Danica's aero-wars. More gripping and adrenaline-inducing rounds to follow.

The next few hours are spent either pestering each other or ignoring each other by watching inflight movies. They’re not ones to get easily tired by long flights, not in the first couple of hours at least. Travelling back and forth from the States, the Philippines, and Saudi Arabia, made them immune to any sort of travel sickness or anxiety, unless something drastic happened. Bad turbulence, for example, or screaming babies for God only knows how long. There isn’t much that puts them off regarding travelling, except one thing.

“Shit airplane food,” Danica grumbles with an expression of disgust spread all over her face. She stares at the tray before her, trying not to gag.

“Tell me about it,” Logan concurs tight-lipped.

“Don’t tweet that though,” she says.

He immediately raises an eyebrow in question.

“People are going to start calling us ungrateful millennials.”

A snorts escapes his mouth, which eventually turns into a chuckle. “Imagine.”

“You never know.” She shrugs. “Being fake woke is trendy.”

Despite being thoroughly revolted, they both eventually decide to take a bite of their meal and engage in conversation to distract themselves from the ugly culinary reality they’re facing.

“Do you think they’d notice if I take these?” she genuinely asks, referring to the silverware cutlery set that came with the food.

“What are you, a Filipino mom? Don’t do that!” he scolds as he lightly slaps her one hand that’s holding all the utensils. He shakes his head and continues, “And you’re the one who called me bobo.”

She makes a face at his hostile actions. “HEY. I didn’t call you that. I simply implied it.”

“Same shit.”

How long has it been since they first became friends? Too long probably. They first met way back in the fourth grade, when the rest of the Dela Vegas moved to Ras Tanura. At first, it had only been Mr. Dela Vega in Saudi Arabia, but a few years after Lacey was born, it felt right for the entire family to be in the same place. For one, the education would be better for the children. Secondly, the environment is better and safer than their home country. These reasons applied to many Filipino families that migrate abroad.

“How are you and Stephen by the way?” Logan asks out of nowhere, probably just to keep their conversation going. He’s not really someone who’s comfortable with silence and he and Danica aren’t the type of friends to sit around and do nothing together.

She freezes a bit at his sudden question, but manages to answer coolly, “As okay as long-term couples can be.”

“So… shitty,” he surmises with a snort.

“Says the one who’s NEVER been in a serious relationship,” she snaps defensively.

“Hey, there was Cara!” he exclaims in the same tone.

“That was child’s play.” She tsks and directs an unimpressed glare at him. “Literally. You guys were twelve.”

“Yeah, but I was definitely serious about her,” he asserts with all his might.

She shrugs, glad that they’re off the subject of her boyfriend now. Well, ex-boyfriend, if they’re talking technicalities. “Okay, I’ll give you that.”

“You’re one to talk. Remember Chad?” he reminds, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

She rolls her own in response. “Oh, God. Don’t even start with that asshole.”

“You guys dated for WAY more than a year,” he adds, pretty satisfied that he cleverly maneuvered their talk where he wanted.

“Yeah, but we were kids too,” she points out.

Danica hasn’t even thought about Chad in years. He was her first serious boyfriend. They met in the sixth grade and dated in the eighth in Ras Tanura. The relationship lasted a little after the eleventh. At that point, they’ve already moved to the States to continue their high school studies separately and adjusted to everyday life in the country. On top of that, they had to cope with the long distance between each other. Either way, their relationship was bound for a disastrous ending.

Luckily, for Logan, Odell, and Naia, they didn’t have a boyfriend or girlfriend before moving to the USA. They only had to deal with the usual problems a new kid had when they entered a different school.

“And he was a complete fuckboy, wasn’t he?” Logan says without thinking. Their current topic obviously got him reminiscing on old memories. He always thought Chad was a good guy, but of course, as with any human being, he had flaws.

Danica snorts, knowing full well how appropriate the term ‘fuckboy’ applies to her ex. “Takes one to know one.”

In turn, Logan merely purses his lips, aware that he couldn’t possibly argue with a statement that’s at least half-true.

 

If there’s one thing that Danica rarely values, it’s her sleep. She could spend hours awake, doing whatever keeps her interested. On bad days, she lets her thoughts and emotions take over and she sort of just rolls around in her negativity. But literally the next day, she’ll feel a 100% better.

This particular trait of hers works the opposite way when on an airplane. She could be on a two-hour or twenty-hour flight with multiple stops, and the result will always be the same after a couple of hours in mid-air. She sleeps. And not in the peaceful, nighttime lullaby, all perfect evening sky sort of sleep. She sleeps like she means it. Drooling, snoring, flailing whenever necessary. The ultimate package. She might as well sleepwalk too, but she figures her body can only do so much. She has a theory that maybe her entire system just shuts down when on an aircraft. She has no idea why, but it’ll be one of the lesser known mysteries of life.

Just as Danica flutters her eyes open after a refreshing, ugly slumber, she’s met by Logan’s toothy and spiteful grin. It would’ve been funnier for her if he still had his braces, but unfortunately, that contraption retired ages ago.

“Nice,” he snidely comments with a sarcastic thumbs up.

Even if this isn’t the first time he’s seen his friend sleep like there’s no tomorrow (he literally saw the same state before their Abu Dhabi transfer), it still cracks him up every time he witnesses it.

With at least one arm up, Danica’s mouth was always slightly open. A narrow waterfall of saliva trickled down either side of her face (she flailed on both sides, so one can imagine the saliva fest that occurred). Her usually straight black hair in a chaotic and static-y disarray, with a hint of what looked like oil on both sides was actually still her saliva. Thankfully, she’d ditched her longer locks and now had a sophisticated bob on. The excess saliva spilled on her pillow, instead of the rest of her hair.

“Piss off,” she hisses before quickly wiping off every trace of saliva within her reach.

Before Logan can make an epic comeback, the pilot announces through the intercom that the plane is about to land. He frowns and looks the other way, knowing that the banter has been ruined even if just a mere second passed. But weirdly and funnily enough, when he turns back, Danica suddenly transforms into her usual state. Hair sleekly styled, face looking fresh. If he squints, he’s sure he’ll spot a hint of red tint on her lips.

“How did you--??” he blurts out mystified.

She raises an eyebrow at him. “What?”

If anyone else could see the expression on his face right now, they’d think he looked like a stereotypical dumb jock. But guess what? Even a cum laude graduate can look as dumb as a nail. Which goes to show that just because you’re book smart, doesn’t mean you can be smart with everything else. All his common sense escaped his body, along with the sweat and fat he shed during those several dedicated years at the gym.

“Never mind,” he replies as he clears his throat and stares at the flashing maps on the mini TV in front of him.

With that, peace is finally restored between the two and the plane smoothly lands. As the vehicle makes its way through the runway and to its proper gate, Logan and Danica could already spot numerous fellow Filipinos ready to spring out of their seats the minute the plane stops. It isn’t a surprising sight, but it’s both a funny and annoying one. It seemed that every Filipino was just so hopped up on getting their overhead luggage and exiting the plane in the fastest way possible. It didn’t matter whether it was safe or not (they don’t even wait for the seatbelt sign to turn off), you either win first place or die trying. Don’t even start with the way they flock around the baggage conveyor belt. That’s an even bigger disaster.

All these years of travelling, the two stateside friends learned that you function better when you set your own pace instead of stressing yourself out with the weird mind game of who gets to grab their luggage first. It’s an unnecessary rush that just adds to your already accumulating exhaustion from the flight itself.

“You are aware that we’ve arrived in Manila, right?” Logan questions, looking down (their height difference is way too evident) at Danica’s attire pointedly. He had already gotten rid of his hoodie a few minutes before they landed.

She protectively grasps onto her coat and answers, “We’re still inside the airport. I get cold easily.”

“Oh, right,” he says, remembering how when they were kids, she’d refuse to go out to the playground during winter unless she was “properly equipped” with layer after layer of clothing.

“How is this the worst airport in the world again?” She hops a bit as she takes tiny steps in the building. Seeing the interiors of their beloved airport once more, she’s surprised at how much better and cleaner it looks than the last time she was there, which was two years ago.

“You’re referring to Terminal One. We’re at Terminal Three,” Logan swiftly responds, paying more attention at the small groups of people ahead of them. He’s wondering whether they should rush to the immigration counter or not, given that there might be a long ass line waiting for them.

Oblivious to everything else happening around her, Danica only nods at his reply. A great photo op spot then catches her eye and she immediately sprints towards it. “Ooh!! Take a picture of me.”

He stops in his tracks, but keeps his distance from her. “Seriously?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” A dead serious expression on her face as she crosses her arms on her chest.

He opens his mouth, about to hit her back with a witty and teasing retort.

“Don’t answer that,” she instantly interrupts, not even giving him a fighting chance.

She begins posing in front of the humongous window behind her, which has a view of a parked airplane and the clear blue sky. As one can expect in the Philippines during the summer, the weather is always going to be sunny. Despite receiving several questioning and judging looks by plenty of passersby, Logan continues to take picture after picture and Danica carries on with coming up and pushing through with her poses.

“You ARE aware that people won’t really care that you’re here, the ‘worst’ airport in the world,” he states as he hands her phone over after their “tedious” photo session.

“I don’t do it for the people, I do it for the art,” she replies in a humorously dramatic tone.

He fake gasps, “Fame has changed you!”

“Take the spotlight away from me!” she exaggerates, covering her forehead with the back of her hand.

As if the stares from before weren’t judging enough, the looks that both of them are now receiving become even weirder.

“Alright, that’s enough.” He shakes his head and snorts. “I need me some fresh, polluted air after all.”

Danica’s unique laugh makes its way out of her mouth again as they take their time walking to the immigration counter.

The entire arrival process takes up a lot of time. Anyone who has been to the Philippines can expect and attest to that, especially if you arrive in the morning or afternoon. Baggage claim is the most headache-inducing, and if that’s not enough to at least annoy you, then wait until you get outside the airport.

“Great. This is just lovely. It’s more pan19 in da Pilipins20!” Danica deadpans, feeling a bit uncomfortable with the change of temperature. Long gone with the black coat, she’s now only left with a white t-shirt and jeans. She may get cold easily, but the process is quite slow when it comes to heat.

When that gust of welcoming humidity slaps your face, that’s when you truly know you’re in the Philippines. If you love the heat, you will never be disappointed with the weather here, because guess what? It is truly hell on earth. A country strategically placed JUST above the equator? What else do you expect?

It’s not long before Danica and Logan exit customs and finally meet their respective relatives at the arrivals lobby. After exchanging pleasantries, Danica and her uncle mildly argue about staying inside NAIA longer. In the end, majority of the titos21, titas22, and cousins of both parties voted to leave the airport as soon as possible. Something about it not being rush hour, so they have to be quick before the clock strikes five.

Since everyone is already familiar with each other, they end up sticking together through the challenging quest of hunting their parked cars. And a hilarious one at that. Whenever one tito would say to go left, another would say that the opposite direction is the better and correct path. Which left the poor cousins, pushing the baggage carts wherever the older men took them. The titas, on the other hand, talked non-stop about anything and everything. From childbirth to famous love teams in the Philippines, you name it and they will make a huge discussion out of it. They couldn’t care less about finding the car soon.

Nothing new to Danica and Logan, but hey, it never fails to annoy them every time it happens. It’s just a matter of time before one of them finally cracks.

“Putangina, pwede ba?! Ang init!!!23” Logan blows up and yells in the most irritated tone possible.

Everyone turns to him, either with a look of shock or dismay, some even have both.

While Danica can only snort and bite down her laugh from bursting to the comical tension surrounding them. Who knew going on the same flight as Logan could be this entertaining?