Summit Books

by Melissa Salva

Publication Date: March 2004
Price: P150.00
Available at your favorite magazine stands

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EXCERPT

The Great Manang Makeover

In Summit Books' latest title, Tough Love, 23-year-old Mia is finding out that yup, she might just be one. But thanks to the persistent prodding of her roomie Justine, Mia is in for a major love and life makeover!

Are you too manang for your own good?

Symptom #3 (and, for Justine, the deciding factor): at the ULTRA oval where I did my daily 10 rounds with my karate classmate and training buddy Carlos, I found myself the object of an urgent plea. I don't know how Carlos and I got from running like steam engines to me sitting on the slightly-overgrown grass with him, holding his hand, and telling him as kindly as I could that no, it really wasn't going to work out. And the inevitable happened - my verbalizing the crap guys hate hearing, all that crap about being loved but loved on a deeper level, i.e. being loved as a brother.

"I don't want you to love me, I want you to be in love with me," Carlos said.

I didn't know what to do, and it wasn't for lack of trying. We did try going out a couple of months ago, but it just felt too weird. It was like playing house with an older brother. I had trained with him too long and knew him too well. For crying out loud, I sometimes felt his sweat on my skin during training but it was never, ever sexy.

Justine's diagnosis: When it comes to relationships and possibly love, I'm not out there enough. Even if ending up saying "Oops, wrong move" comes with the territory. After all, who gets true love - or good sex for that matter - on the first try? Too inhibited for my benefit. Self-controlling to a "fucking fault."

Daredevil in disguise

"Of course, there's no proof of the kiss," I told Justine the night I got back.

My suitcase didn't make it to my room - it lay splayed by the doorway, the contents spilling out like some roadkill's guts. Justine couldn't wait to see my purchases and for some reason, I found myself sharing her excitement. I gamely unzipped my luggage for a round of show-and-tell; first the purchases and pasalubongs, and then the photos.

"I believe you," she said, staring open-mouthed at the image in the digicam and stepping over paper bags literally blocking the hallway to the kitchen. It's not really a hallway, more like a narrow four-step passage to what isn't really a kitchen, more like an all-purpose main room crowded in by my mom's old sala set (completely out of place), Justine's mom's old round dinner table, Justine's computer on an antique rolltop desk, and a hodge podge of mismatched chairs. All works well for Justine, but one reason I live in my room is because it's not the main room.

"He's cute, isn't he?" I asked, feeling a bit disoriented by the mess. I was mentally calculating how much time it would take to get everything in order - two hours max if Justine gave the whole Leon thing a rest soon.

"Cute is a word you use to describe your grade school crush. This guy is 27 years old. He's not cute. He's hot!" Justine commended me on my performance as a romantic heroine, complete with lovebird pictures and with my hair tied to one side too.

"You were holding hands!" she exclaimed. "You look like you're seriously dating him. Like a real couple." She looked away from the picture to study me. "You're not going to write him, are you?"

I didn't answer, but Justine already knew even before she asked. "Take the chance, Mia. He sounds like a great guy."

"But what if he's not?" I folded the empty shopping bags and began piling them in one corner.

"How will you know if you let him disappear?"

"I'm not getting together with a guy who picked me up. That's not how I operate."