"Is this the one, Leo?" Arianah asked, her eyes wide and shimmering like a hopeful child's, innocent and eager.
I felt a pang of responsibility—a quiet weight pressing on my chest. I didn't want to be the cause of confusion or heartbreak for my little sister, especially now, when she had started asking too many questions about love and relationships.
She was only in sixth grade. I was barely a year older, just stepping into seventh grade myself, but somehow it felt like we inhabited different worlds—separated by the gulf of experience and understanding that years sometimes bring.
Already, boys in her class whispered sweet nothings and chased after her with shy smiles and nervous glances. It wasn't a comforting sight. She was too young—far too young for the kind of entanglements that tugged at hearts and complicated lives. Especially for something serious.
"No, Arianah," I said with quiet certainty.
Her almond-shaped eyes scrunched in confusion, the tip of her nose wrinkling as she pouted. Her fingers stopped combing through the few strands of bangs that fell across her forehead, caught and still in mid-motion, as if my answer had frozen time itself.
"Then why did you try?" she asked, the hurt in her voice just barely hidden beneath her curiosity.
That question always came. It was the one that followed every time I mentioned having a girlfriend. She never quite understood.
"Ana," I said, "I'm still in seventh grade. Do you honestly think any of this will last long enough for me to say, 'Yeah, we're really together'?"
"But if you didn't think that way, then why even try?" Her tone was suddenly sharp, almost offended.
I let out a long breath. Maybe other boys my age had different views on love, but for me, it was all part of the journey—an experience to be learned from, not something to rush into blindly. I hadn't fallen in love yet, nor did I expect to anytime soon. Dad always said the more logical you were, the less likely you were to fall head over heels in an instant. I liked to believe I was logical.
I'd been infatuated plenty of times. Every one of those crushes somehow turned into a relationship. Well, except for those distant dreams—celebrities, models, people way out of my reach. Here in Cagayan de Oro, this was my world—the life I knew—and the girls in my class were the only ones I could really know.
"You know, Ana…" I wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and together we descended the wooden stairs of our home. As I spoke, her gaze drifted upward, fixating on the chandelier above us. I could see her mind was weaving through every word, turning my thoughts over in her young heart.
"I live for the moment. If I like someone now, I'll try to get close to her. I don't know if I'll still feel the same months from now, but what matters is the present. Besides," I added with a small smile, "I'm still young. I don't want to be pressured into serious relationships. Nobody—no one, really—takes love seriously when they're our age, or even yours, or anyone stuck in between in these teenage years."
"Wait," she interrupted. "What about Aunt Sonia and Uncle Roben? Didn't they start dating back in high school?"
I gently poked her nose. She wasn't like our soft-spoken sister, Chona. No, Arianah was sharp, practical—she probably didn't believe in fairy tales or dreamy romances. I knew she could handle herself, as long as I was there to guide her.
"That's true, Ana. But out of a thousand high school relationships, maybe only one will last all the way down the aisle. So if, someday, you do fall in love—"