Chapter 5

V. Like

THE FIRST DAYS WERE hard and a little dismal since Piers had been gone. The BSAA responded to a bioterrorist attack in Australia, and his vacation was cut on short notice. I'd ask him how his mission went because I felt the need to hear it. But every time I ask that, I always found myself holding my breath to the dread of every detail of the ordeal. I'd forgotten how tough his duty was... it was full of risks and dangers. But somehow, he never minded it. He'd just talk casually like it was a normal thing, like it's part of his every day routine.

Sometimes, I realize I was reminiscing the days when we were still living together in his apartment. There was no particular memory that was worth remembering but I would just... abruptly remember the times I was with him. Did I take it for granted? And so, I wait at the end of each day, staring at the phone he had given me, hoping that it would ring despite knowing the fact that he was on-duty. He'd splurge on a phone call once a week, or every two weeks if he was too busy. We'd also engaged in e-mails because he said that it was handier, the BSAA was good at setting up computers even in the middle of nowhere.

"So what do you do there every day?" I asked.

"Nothing special, really. We just assemble at around six or so in the morning, then break into squads to exercise, running, lifting or do sports such as soccer or basketball. Sometimes we have a class, assemble or reassemble our weapons, go to the shooting range or whatever. But if there's nothing planned for the day, we'd just stay at the barracks, work out again, read or play video games for the rest of the day..."

"You play video games, Piers?" I cracked out a smile, imagining him playing video games with his BSAA buddies, yelling over the TV screen in frustration.

"Sometimes," I could feel the smile in his voice, "But mostly I would just work out, read or go to the rifle range."

"Why the BSAA? If my memory serves me right, you were in the Special Forces."

"Chris was the one who acknowledged me and asked me to join the BSAA. You see, I was kind of disillusioned before. Even if I do participated in my drills without any problems, I'd wanted something with a little more kick, you know? Something I'd make use of all my training."

"Ah, so you were looking for some kind of calling, huh?"

"Yeah, and the BSAA was that calling."

It scares me, you being a soldier. I wanted to tell him but I just bit my lip to suppress those words. Instead, what I told him was, "Good for you."

By September 2010, Lorraine persuaded me to study hand-to-hand combat along with Phyllis, for self-defense. Being in that family, it was a must to know basic martial arts. It was tough at first, seeing as though I didn't have the qualified build, and so I also had to go to the gym. From then on, the days seemed to pass by quickly than it used to be, having something to focus my mind on besides talking to Piers, it made me forget about my frequent worries about him getting sent into a danger zone.

I trained for months, under the supervision of Phyllis' combat instructor. Phyllis and I would sometimes train together, simulate a fight of some sort, just to assess our progress. And it was such a shame that she always had the initiative, given that she was only fifteen years old. Maybe being naturally good in that field was already in her genes.

I dashed to launch a punch at Phyllis to which she blocked it with her arm shielded on the side of her head. She gave me a sharp look as I went in to give her groin a nice kick but it only managed to connect with her shin, the impact plummeted through her foot. She grunted, distracted at the pain I made her taste and it gave me an opening I needed to quickly get behind her and secure her in a tight rear headlock. Phyllis struggled, her hands holding onto my arms trying to break-free.

"Yield!" I exclaimed, tightening my grip on her.

"Never!" She shot back with the same intensity.

Phyllis grabbed my arm and resisted, sinking down in my hold and bending her knees to allow air passage. She took a step back behind my foot which could lock my leg. Immediately, I released her and took a few steps backwards, preventing her from turning the tables on me. I gave her a smile to which she rewarded me the usual smug smirks as if she was rubbing it on my face on how she has the initiative. I never liked those faces she made, it only reminded me how I was the weak one between us. I knew that feeling provoked was ridiculous, but irritation mixed with adrenaline was coursing through me like pulsing heat. After exchanging a few mocking stares, I ran and recklessly launched a kick at her and she ducked, making my shin make contact with the wall with a thud. I yelped at the stinging sensation on the area and attempted to ignore it but Phyllis easily slid a leg-sweep, knocking my support from under her. My back smashed into the matted floor, forcing the air out of my lungs in a rushing wheeze. I groaned in pain as the sound of our instructor's voice echoed through my ears.

"You're both making good progress, especially you, Cheryl."

I heard a chuckle escape from Phyllis' lips whilst I let out a sigh in disbelief as I locked gazes with her, triumph evident on her features. Although pain was still present, I sprawled out my spent, aching body on the floor, exhaling all of the frustrations out. I guess we can call it a day and I lost once again...

"If I'm making a good progress then why am I always on my butt while she is on her feet?"

"Well, you just started recently, Cheryl. You'll catch up to this simpleton in no time." She patted the younger girl's head, making the latter swat it away.

"Hey!" Phyllis complained with a pout. "I don't mind you catching up to me, Cheryl, but you have to make it fast."

I didn't answer and instead just sat up, clasping my wrist wrapped hands together. I groaned in exhaustion, feeling the stickiness of the sweat in my body. I needed a shower so bad.

When I got home, I borrowed Piers' laptop and finally checked my e-mails and there I saw one from him dated two days ago. I opened it and read his message.

Hey Cheryl,

How's it going there? I hope you're doing well with regard to studying hand-to-hand combat. Not that I hadn't expected it, my mother is really paranoid when it comes to the safety of our family. I'm sorry about that.

I hope my cousin isn't being much of a headache to you. Believe me when I say that she's a handful, but overall she's okay. Our unit just finished posting for the day, and while I'm free, you're either hitting the gym or training. It'd be more difficult to call every now and then so I guess we'll just settle for frequent e-mails for now. Chris and Jill were also glad to hear about your progress, and they're hoping to see you soon.

By the way, I'd get to have my leave on June next year. Until then, just do your best in there.

Piers

After reading his message, I realized that I was already smiling from ear to ear. Even though June is approximately seven months from now, his return will be one of the reasons I'd be looking forward to every day. But then my smile faltered when I realized that Piers wouldn't be spending Christmas at home. I asked Lorraine about it, and she just smiled as she told me that he'd always spent his holidays in the BSAA. It made me sad for him, Christmas must have been always a dismal affair to him and to his family. Phyllis had already left and had gone to spend Christmas with her family and go back to school. And so, just to make that day a little better for them, I sent Piers a shemagh scarf which I personally knitted and a batch of homemade cookies, while I knitted a sweater for Lorraine. Piers had also sent me a sweater which reminded me of something Phyllis would wear, and I'd figured that he had received my gift. I wore the sweater and as a gift to myself, I splurged on a phone call to him. We had been going on with frequent e-mails for the past month now, and he didn't expect the call, considering that he was always the first one to dial the phone.

We ended up talking for more over than an hour, and I replayed the excitement in my voice as I told him how my days went, my progress in studying martial arts, the way I looked like a sack of potatoes when I wore the sweater he gave me, and how I described the falling snow. He told me that it was also snowing outside his window and there at that moment, although it was brief and instant, it felt as if we were together again. I had missed the sound of his voice, how he would chuckle and I would just imagine him shaking his head or rolling his eyes whenever I say something ridiculous to him. After the phone call, I sent him an e-mail once again, along with a photo attached with me wearing the sweater he had given me. He sent me back an e-mail with him wearing the scarf I made for him.

It's ironic, how the distance seemed to have pulled us together. I don't ever recall a time when we were still together where we would sometimes stay up even after lights out just to make up for the days we didn't get the chance to catch up, or when I would feel sad and a little disappointed whenever we had to hang up.

By January 2011, I had developed the habit to count the days when I'll see him again. I wake up and literally tell myself that there are only 170 days until I see him again, then 169... and 168 and so on. It made me feel like a child counting the lengthening days until summer vacation; however, it suddenly made the wait even longer. Even so, I still continued on with my routines until I finally had the chance to meet Piers' father in mid-January. To say that I was intimidated with him was an understatement. He lived up to my first impression of him—calm, prim and proper but welcoming. It didn't surprise me when he also brought up the topic of my past that I almost forgot but I didn't have any problem with complying to the information that I thought he should know right about now. Although Garrett Nivans reminded me of his only son, and seeing this old couple finally together for the first time in my months of stay in here, it still didn't stop me from wishing and wondering when Piers' family would be complete again.

In May, I drove back to the labs for my mandatory annual blood test. Lorraine suggested that she'd drive me but I convinced her otherwise. I had also learned how to drive and so I just borrowed one of their cars. They needed to be updated if there are any changes or abnormalities with my blood. Now that Albert Wesker's dead, I'm the only test subject he infected and lived to tell the tragedies of his experiments. It is one of these moments that remind me of what happened five years ago that changed my life. It served as a catalyst for me to change my perspective on things. And that's when I realized that I was a blank canvas then, where everyone's capable of painting me in any color they'd like.

When the blood tests were finished, I called Lorraine and told her everything that happened. I also asked her if I could spend a few days off in Piers' apartment, she was reluctant and worried but I reassured her that I was going to be fine. I'd be back before Piers' return because he might chastise me for living alone where dangers are behind every corner.

"Gonna see him soon," Phyllis told me as she called me later that night, "are you ready?"

"Yeah," I breathed, playing with the hem of my shirt.

"He likes you, you know." Phyllis said in a low voice as if she was trying to convince me, but a smile was evident.

I smiled, "What makes you think that?"

"Because you like him." She concluded even if I didn't admit it to her. I stayed quiet because I was interested in what she had to say. "There's no person in this world who'd do the things you both do unless you like each other. I know you like each other, Cheryl. And you didn't even deny it."

"I don't know..."

"Oh come on, he's got to like you back somehow.He's got to, considering how much you like him."