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Summer, part 1: Of math, men, and milk teas.

For about a third of my college barkada (yes we have a huuuge group; we exponentially increased the summer after freshman year), summer meant having to drag ourselves out the bed every morning for not-very-exciting-subjects-we-have-to-get-over-with. Yes, it's self-inflicted pain caused by our urgent desire to graduate on time, but it still doesn't take away the fact that We. Go. To. School. During. The. Summer. And. It. Still. Sort. Of. Sucks. But it's our daily lunches (and afternoon snacks) together that make everything less dreadful.

Shoutout to my "summer buddies" Mark, Jas, and Adrian, all of whom have Math/Physics and PE, like me. For most of our four weeks together they've filled their guts with fat and oil courtesy of the much-loved Beach House. (Yes, just them, since I've brought with me canned goods for lunch every single day.) You know you've found friends you can grow old with when you can spend three straight afternoons just being vain around two huge letters of the alphabet representing your school. Or when you can imagine an entire civilization with instead of call centers you have bike centers generating electricity and a prison where criminals are being tickled to death. We've talked about our funerals (a barkada mausoleum with life-sized statues!), our futures (Mark gets the weird kids) and even Tekken characters and their history (my friends are obsessed so I had to know who Lilli was and what a ghost battle meant), and yet we still never ran out of things to say.

On some days, several of our other friends would join us in the afternoon, meeting up at our newest favorite tambayan somewhere near Maginhawa, that quaint little teashop called Moonleaf, and again we would laugh about our cringe-worthy pasts, uncertain presents, and idealized futures - this time, over wintermelon milk tea and pearls - like there's just no time and no place else to talk about them but right then and there. It was always a riot, and it was never a bore - this was what we truly needed. I missed these kinds of genuine dates, the kind that had us all under the same roof with all our stories and worries and joys and pains, the kind that made me feel sad about the Katipunan jeep finally arriving when it's time to come home.