Polaroid

“I was just hoping you’d still be here, so I dropped by to give you this.” I handed out a paper bag without looking up at him. I found him walking out of the locker room of the school gym. He was here every afternoon. He was a member of the school’s basketball team and I’m one of his avid fans.

Aside from that, we were ‘friends’ since we were five. But when we entered college, we suddenly became strangers. Funny but true. Childhood friends turned into strangers.

He entered the team during the second semester when we were in first year. As for me, I found myself in the club for photographers. My passion for photography brought me extra money. Since I loved watching Ned’s basketball games, I got shots of the team during the game. Different newspapers and magazines bought my pictures. 

But all this while, even though we share the same school, court and even neighborhood, still he continued to ignore me. Now, we’re about to graduate from college. It’s so silly of me to keep hoping that he’ll come up to me and say “Hey Andy! It’s so good to see you!” But I guess I’ll have to be contented with hoping.

Now, I was still standing before him. When I realized that he had not flexed even a muscle to get the bag from me, I dropped it on the ground and ran away. Hey, I have feelings too. Idiots like me also get fed up. So much for reaching out. 

Then fate finally agreed to go my way. The following week, mom told me we were to transfer to another neighborhood since dad was assigned to another place. What a relief. No more Ned on my way to school. 

When I reached the Camera Club office that very same day, our Head told me that someone from the club asked if we could take turns in taking pictures of the basketball team since he needed some extra cash. I told him that the member could have the games all to himself. I hated it because I had to lie and say that I didn’t need the extra money and that the games were getting boring. I had to do this. I had to get him out of my system.

Days passed and I finally learned not to peek in the gym on my way home, and not to ask our common friends how he’s doing. I’m so proud of myself. I was doing a great job. So long No-reaction Ned.

I was in the library packing my things when a familiar sound caught my attention. I heard the sound of a camera click. Since I dropped the job of covering his games, I never really had the enthusiasm to take pictures again. I turned from my right to my left but only found busy students either reading thick textbooks or scribbling something on pieces of paper. I shook my head. I was getting sick of this whole getting-him-out-of-me thing. I stuffed my things inside my bag and hurried home.


Then the one thing that I never hoped for (at least for the past weeks) happened. Ned was walking toward me. I looked away. I know he was just going to pass by me just like before. I was about to step out of his way when he called out to me.

“Andy!” 
I stood frozen.
He neared me. The awkwardness between us was unbearable.
He was obviously finding the right words to say. I was just looking the other way. I can’t look at him. I might stay that way forever. But I know I can’t. I’ve accepted that a long time ago.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he reached inside his bag and got a notepad and scribbled something on it. Then he held my hand and stuffed the paper into my freezing palms. I didn’t realize they were freezing until his warm palms stuffed the paper in one of them. Just like that, he walked away again. 
I don’t what to do. Things were getting so much to bear.

I pushed the paper inside my bag without even opening it. I was so shocked to do so. 

I reached home that afternoon without even remembering the things I passed along the way. When I opened the front door, my mom was already running toward me, with the phone on hand.

“Ned’s mom just called!” she was panting, despite the short distance from our living room to the main door.
“Relax mom.” I was too exhausted to hear news about him. I was still on the get-him-out-of-my-system mode after all. I was determined to reach the final goal - eliminate him from my life.
“Okay. You look exhausted yourself.” She finally calmed down.
I walked past her like a ghost. I felt like one now, after what Ned made me feel all this time.
Then my sister walked inside the room and asked my mom what Ned’s mom told her.
“He’s in the hospital. He had an attack.”
“WHAT?” I was suddenly brought back to the present.
“I was trying to tell you but you looked too exhausted to---“
I was out of the house. I didn’t hear the end of the sentence. While I was sitting on the taxi on my way to the hospital, I reached into the pocket of my bag and opened the paper that he handed to me.

I’m sorry I can’t say what I want to say now. 
I left something in your locker.
I’m really sorry.

I reached the hospital and found his room in no time. Before I entered, I bid get-him-out-my-system mode goodbye. I took a deep breath, then turned the knob.

There they were, his mom and dad standing next to his bed, their backs on me. I was too distracted by the look on their faces when they turned to me that I didn’t notice how pale Ned was as he laid on the hospital bed. His mom motioned me to have a talk with her outside the room.

“He knew the diagnosis when you entered college.” The sadness on her face was evident.
“But why didn’t he tell me?”
“He didn’t know how to say it. So he stayed away from you.”
“I still don’t understand.” I shook my head.
“He had another attack just this afternoon. He wanted to tell you everything but he was feeling dizzy.”
This time, it was I who didn’t know what to say.
Just then his dad shouted, ”NURSE! Somebody, help!”

I was walking in the school corridor that day. It’s exactly one hundred days after he died. I’m still grieving for him. I still cry from time to time.

I reached for the key of my locker. Since that day, I never dared to open it. I was so hurt to see another memory of him. But now I think he wants me to see what was waiting for me there.

I opened the locker slowly. I saw a green box inside.
I took it and removed the lid. 
Inside, there were pictures. I browsed them at one glance and realized they were pictures of me. In different angles and different occasions. And there was this one picture that struck me the most. I was wearing a red sweater and the background was in the library. I heard it right, there was a camera that day in the library. It was Ned’s.

I was crying while I browsed the pictures.

Especially when I reached the bottom of the box. I found a camera. The very same camera I gave him that day when I decided to give up. My only Polaroid.

I was about to close the locker when I noticed something else that was just behind the green box. Another one, this time a blue one. 

I removed the lid and saw even more pictures. But this time, they were pictures of us, young Ned and young Andy. It was then that I realized that he got his own Polaroid when we were still ten years old.

I browsed the pictures and found one which had me busy writing something and Ned smiling broadly at the camera and his handwriting below it:
My Andy preparing for our future. 

MVJLO 05.28.2010