But nobody warned me that a fraction of the story I invented was going to be subjected to reality.
Months before I already made the decision that I wouldn't attend our college-wide intramurals. One day after the other passed by and case studies piled up like Uno Stacko, it seemed as though my judgment had proven to be rational.
Although I knew the moment I woke up to a Saturday morning that I wasn't in the best condition to engage in athletic activities, I began to have second thoughts on whether I should get my ass off the bed and show up in the event. Opening ceremonies were bound to begin in an hour plus the UPCAT takers would definitely congest my route going to the venue, so, the luxury of having fickle mind arguments with myself were put to rest.
To my surprise, I was speeding up through EDSA like it was the wee small hours, and that absolutely deserved silly dancing while maintaining responsible driving. Going to the Department of Agrarian Reform Covered Courts was another embarrassing first for me, having said that, I'm guessing my Rav4 (a.k.a Bumblebitch) and I looked like tourists appreciating the scenery, when in fact deep down inside, we were only trying to figure out which is which.
Arriving at the gate of the DAR without having to revolve around the whole circumference of the circle twice was a complete joy. Anticipating the guard would ask for my ID, my right hand started sniffing for a leather wallet in my bag. Turns out he let me in immediately without questions; thank God, because my right hand started to give an impression that I forgot my wallet.
I rushed to the nearest vacant parking spot, left the engine running for a few minutes, and wondered how on earth was I able to drive without a license. Most of all, how would I live to tell this outrageous tale without a single cent to feed my stomach.
Seeing the surprised eyes (in a good way) of my batch mates as I barged in the middle of the parade were more than enough for me to dust off all my worries. They always mentioned that our batch never tasted victory in the game of volleyball. At least this time I had a purpose.
With an amazing team with me, we managed to catapult our batch all the way to the championship game. Unfortunately, both my legs gave up on me on the most important match. What blew me away, however, was that people whom I'm not even close with started offering assistance, making sure my cramps wouldn't get in the way. I badly wanted to get back in the game, hence at times I would force myself to return, until there came a point where I could no longer stand up. But that's beside the point. As I sat on the concrete floor desperately recovering from spasms, I noticed my teammates were all of a sudden playing their hearts out despite fatigue, playing like they never needed me back.
There and then it felt like my heart had spasms. Especially when my batch mates were rooting in the background, screaming at the top of their lungs even if it was already 10 in the evening, and the guys waving pom-poms as if they just didn't give a damn how stupid they looked.
A few of the cheerleaders bothered to feed me bananas and Gatorade. One of them bent down and whispered, "Na-inspire sila sa'yo oh."
As the day ended (at around 11pm), the batch agreed to eat sizzling sisig somewhere in Philcoa. Midway through our discussions of how this day bonded us all as a batch, they came up with an impractical idea that somebody should drive my car and I back to make sure I get home safely. I kept insisting that I could drive myself but I was only one against, well, the batch.
The moment we got to my house, they bid farewell, as they would still have to get a cab back to QC. But since I was determined to return the favor, I told them to wait for me while I go and get my wallet. Driving once without a license was enough adventure for me, thank you. They actually thought I was crazy to persist on taking them back home despite my weak legs. Adz suggested this was another of my simple ways to buy more time with them. If that's the case, then I'm guilty.
It's really funny how life bites back at you when you least expect it. And I even got a sizzling-plate-burn on my palm to remember this. To remind me this is not fiction.
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