College has a way of grouping people.
Not by compatibility.
But by proximity.
—
Same class.
Same hallway.
Same deadlines.
And suddenly—
you're part of something.
—
They called themselves a barkada.
Of course they did.
Every group does.
Like naming it makes it real.
—
"Group chat ka na," Jessa announced one afternoon, shoving her phone into Cielo's space.
Cielo looked down.
BARKADA 2.0 🔥😂
"…Why 2.0?" she asked.
Jessa shrugged. "Version update. Less drama daw."
"That is statistically unlikely."
—
You sit with them now.
Under a covered walkway.
Plastic chairs pulled too close together.
Everyone talking at once like silence is a threat.
—
There's Marco—loud, funny, always with a story that gets better every time he tells it.
Lia—sharp, observant, laughs like she knows more than she says.
Kevin—the quiet one, but not the same quiet as Cielo. His is… elsewhere.
And others.
Rotating.
Expanding.
Contracting.
—
Cielo is there.
Physically.
Present.
Listening.
—
But if you look closely—
she's slightly outside the circle.
Not excluded.
Just… not fully inside.
—
"Cielo!" Marco calls out. "Ba't ang tahimik mo?"
Cielo looks up.
"I am contributing through listening."
—
They laugh.
They always laugh when she says things like that.
—
"Grabe, parang robot," someone jokes.
"AI na yan," another adds.
—
Cielo smiles faintly.
Polite.
Practiced.
—
Inside, she notes it.
Not painfully.
Just… accurately.
—
Later, the conversation shifts.
Plans.
Outings.
Beach trips.
Late-night hangouts.
—
"G ka?" Lia asks, looking at her.
—
Cielo pauses.
You feel it.
That small hesitation.
—
"I'll try," she says.
—
Jessa glances at her.
She knows.
—
Because "I'll try" in Cielo language means:
I want to belong, but I don't know if my world will allow it.
—
They nod anyway.
"Game!"
"Let's go!"
"Solid 'to!"
—
And just like that—
plans are made.
—
But here's the thing about plans:
They assume consistency.
—
And Cielo's life?
Is built around careful conditions.
—
The day comes.
Beach trip.
Of course.
—
Sun.
Heat.
Exposure.
Everything her body has never agreed with.
—
You're there with her again.
Standing at the edge.
Watching them run toward the water like freedom is something you can splash into.
—
Jessa stays beside her.
"Okay lang," she says softly.
—
Cielo nods.
"Yes."
But her voice is quieter than usual.
—
Marco waves from the water.
"Cielo! Dali!"
—
She smiles.
Raises her hand slightly.
But doesn't move.
—
You can feel it now.
That distance.
Not physical.
Something else.
—
"They look happy," Cielo says.
—
Jessa nods. "They are."
—
A pause.
—
"I'm happy for them," Cielo adds.
—
Another pause.
Then, softer:
"I'm just not part of that version."
—
Jessa looks at her.
Not pitying.
Just… understanding.
—
"That doesn't mean you don't belong," she says.
—
Cielo doesn't answer immediately.
—
Because that word—
belong—
has been under review for a long time.
—
Instead, she sits under a shaded cottage.
Safe.
Observing.
—
The barkada laughs.
Takes pictures.
Creates memories that will later exist as proof of something shared.
—
Cielo watches.
Not with envy.
Not with resentment.
—
Just… awareness.
—
Later, when the group gathers again, wet and loud and sun-soaked—
they talk over each other.
Stories forming instantly.
—
"You should've joined!" Marco says.
"Sayang!"
—
Cielo nods.
"I know."
—
But she doesn't apologize.
—
That's new.
—
Back home, the quiet feels familiar.
Not lonely.
Just honest.
—
She sits at her desk.
Opens her notebook.
—
You're there.
Watching the way she holds her pen like she's holding something fragile but necessary.
—
Entry: Barkada, But Not Belonging
Today I learned that you can be part of a group…
and still not fully belong to its rhythm.
—
She pauses.
Then adds:
And that's okay.
—
Another pause.
Longer this time.
—
Belonging is not about being everywhere.
It's about being somewhere… fully.
—
She closes the notebook gently.
—
Outside, the world continues.
Groups forming.
Laughing.
Moving together.
—
And Cielo?
—
She's still part of it.
Just… differently.
—
And for the first time—
that difference doesn't feel like something she has to fix.
—
It feels like something she's finally beginning to understand.