Heartstruck [PREVIEW]

Chapter Two

Come Saturday morning, Tito Tim makes good on his word and gives me an intense training session. He still doesn't relent on the sparring match, insisting I still need drills. He decides on double stick striking, blocking, and parrying techniques for today.

My non-dominant left hand used to give me a few problems with grip and control but now it feels just as strong and secure as my right hand. The rattan sticks are a part of me now, and as I warm up with a few twirling exercises, I can't help but remember what an old friend had once said.

"It's like they have sticks for hands!" he had exclaimed as we watched the more advanced students spar. But our Guro refuted him a little later, telling us how our sticks should serve as mere extensions of our hands. Without the hands, the sticks are useless.

His name was Theo. I was six, Theo was seven, and the two of us were easily the youngest in Tito Tim's arnis class back in Cavite. Because of our shared interest in Filipino martial arts, and because we were both so socially awkward, we got along right from the get-go.

Theo and I went to different schools and he lived quite the distance from where I did, so we only ever got to see each other at the martial arts studio on Saturdays. As the years went by, our friendship and love for arnis only grew. We synchronized our lessons so we could go from our once-a-week schedule to about thrice-a-week during fourth grade.

He was a bit on the short side compared to the other boys our age, and he started with arnis thinking that it'd help him toughen up a bit. But I always thought that Theo didn't need arnis. In fact, it seemed like the other way around. The arnis world needed him. He was a natural. Even Tito Tim thought so.

Though we rarely spent time outside the martial arts studio, Theo and I were as close as best friends came. Looking back, he was probably even more than that. So, when he suddenly moved away without even leaving any means to keep in touch, I felt crushed, to say the least. And when things suddenly started falling apart at school, I missed him even more. Losing my best friend made everything so much worse.

"Alexa!"

"Yes, Guro!"

Tito Tim's sharp voice brings me back to the present, and I instinctively jump to attention stance. Feet apart. Both hands on the sticks held in front of me. Of course, it doesn't fool anyone. Not my Guro. Not even myself.

Tito Tim folds his arms in front of his chest. "I've been telling you to start with double stick strike drills for a while now, but you just kept on with the twirling. What's the matter?"

"Nothing, sir."

His eyebrows go all the way up. Of course, he isn't buying it.

"Really, it's nothing," I insist unconvincingly, and start with the double stick drills. "I was just thinking about Cavite."

"Cavite, huh? Come on, Alexa. We both know 'Cavite' means you're thinking about Theo. Your first love." Tito Tim takes hold of a baston and meets my strikes. "Harder. Twist your upper body. Give it some force."

I do as he says and throw more strength into my swings. "He's not my first love, Tito. He was my best friend."

"Regardless, I hope the kid's still doing arnis today. He was quite something back then." A smile appears on Tito Tim's face. I wasn't the only one who missed Theo when he left. "Shame the two of you didn't keep in touch."

"Yeah, well, he kind of disappeared so suddenly, Tito. I had no idea how to keep in touch."

"Not even online?"