Chapter XVI: Inspiration
Liz walks briskly through the sunlit hallways of her school, the faint chatter of students and the occasional squeak of sneakers on the floor blending into the morning ambiance. She reaches her classroom and immediately spots Wyn by their usual desk, her notebook sprawled out as she flips through its pages.
"Hey, Wyn," Liz greets, slipping into her chair beside her friend.
"Morning, Liz," Wyn replies, her face lighting up.
"Have you heard the latest? Apparently, Mr. Santos caught someone sneaking snacks into the library yesterday. He's furious, but get this—he was eating chips behind his desk during the whole lecture!"
Liz laughs, shaking her head.
"Seriously? I swear, this school is a sitcom waiting to happen. Anything else juicy going around?"
The two dive into a flurry of gossip and updates, from trending videos on social media to a rumored couples' fight near the cafeteria the other day. Their laughter fills the room, lightening the mood as more classmates trickle in.
The bell rings, cutting through their conversation. Both girls groan in unison before turning to face the front, where their teacher begins the day's lesson.
The morning flies by in a blur of discussions, note-taking, and whispered side comments. By the time lunch rolls around, Liz and Wyn grab their packed meals and decide to escape the usual chaos of the cafeteria.
"Let's eat in the corridor today," Wyn suggests, already heading in that direction.
Liz follows, the two settling near a quiet corner with a view of the school grounds. They unwrap their meals, chatting between bites.
"You know," Wyn begins, leaning against the wall,
"this place is oddly peaceful. No cafeteria drama, no noise. Just us."
Liz nods.
"I could get used to this. Plus, it's easier to actually hear ourselves talk."
Their conversation stretches, covering everything from their future plans to random musings about life. As they finish their food, Liz leans back, satisfied.
But just as they're about to get up and return to their classroom, Liz notices something.
"Hey, Wyn," she whispers, narrowing her eyes at the far end of the corridor.
"Do you see that?"
Wyn turns, following Liz's gaze. A faint silhouette lingers, motionless. The figure is too far away to make out clearly, shrouded in shadows despite the bright afternoon light.
"That's creepy," Wyn mutters, her voice hushed.
Liz takes a cautious step forward, but in the blink of an eye, the silhouette vanishes. She turns to Wyn, her brows furrowed.
"Did you—?"
"Yeah, but it's gone now," Wyn replies, visibly uneasy.
They shrug it off, chalking it up to their imagination or a trick of the light. Just as they're about to head back to class, they feel a pair of hands rest on their shoulders.
The soft, familiar whisper sends chills down Liz's spine.
"I'm so proud of you," the voice says, warm and comforting.
Liz turns, her breath catching. Standing behind her is Bennett, his signature smile stretching across his face. Her vision blurs as tears spring to her eyes, and before she knows it, she's throwing her arms around him.
"You're here," she whispers, her voice trembling.
Bennett chuckles, his arms wrapping around her in return.
"Of course I am. How could I miss seeing you two?"
Wyn, equally surprised, watches the reunion unfold. After a moment, Bennett gestures for them to follow him.
"Come on," he says.
"We've got some time before your next class. Let's grab some desserts. My treat."
The trio ends up at a small dessert shop just outside the school. Bennett orders their favorites, teasing Liz when she struggles to choose between two options.
"You haven't changed," he jokes, sliding her the parfait she finally decided on.
As they eat, he listens intently to their stories, offering advice when needed. Wyn talks about her struggles with balancing schoolwork and hobbies, while Liz hesitantly brings up her worries about her future career.
"You're overthinking it, Liz," Bennett says gently.
"Take it one step at a time. You don't have to have everything figured out right now."
His words, as always, strike a chord. Liz feels a wave of gratitude as she looks at him, knowing how much his presence has shaped her life.
After finishing their desserts, Liz pulls Bennett aside, guiding him to a quieter corner of the shop. Her heart races as she looks up at him, her thoughts swirling.
"Bennett," she begins, her voice soft.
"I..."
Before she can finish, Bennett leans in, a tender smile on his lips. Liz closes her eyes, her heartbeat pounding in her ears.
And then—
Liz jerks awake, her hand flying to her chest as she sits up in bed. Her room is dimly lit, the faint glow of the morning sun filtering through the curtains.
"A dream," she murmurs, her voice heavy with both disappointment and relief. "It was just a dream."
She lets out a shaky laugh, lying back down and staring at the ceiling. Despite the bittersweet realization, her heart feels lighter, the memory of Bennett's warmth lingering like an echo.
"Even in my dreams," she whispers, a small smile tugging at her lips,
"you always know how to show up at the right time."
Liz sits on the edge of her bed, still reeling from the vivid dream. Her fingers toy with the corner of her blanket as Bennett's voice echoes in her mind. The dream felt so real—his smile, his warmth, his words. Her chest tightens at the thought.
"Liz! Breakfast is ready!" her grandma calls from downstairs, breaking her train of thought.
Liz sighs, dragging herself to her feet. She heads to the dining room, where the smell of freshly cooked rice and fried eggs fills the air. Her grandma and two aunts are already seated, chatting lightly as they eat.
"Good morning, Hija," her grandma greets, noticing her sluggish movements.
"Did you sleep well?"
Liz forces a small smile as she takes her seat.
"Good morning, Abuelita."
Her aunts exchange a look.
"You look down, Liz," Dolores comments, eyeing her with concern.
"What's wrong?"
Liz pokes at her plate, hesitant to speak. But the way her family looks at her—kind and expectant—makes her open up.
"I... I had a dream about Bennett," she admits, her voice soft.
Her grandma's hands still for a moment before she sets down her fork.
"Oh, Liz," she says gently.
"I miss him," Liz continues, her voice cracking slightly.
"Even in my dreams, he's always there, telling me things I don't think I deserve to hear."
She shakes her head, biting her lip to keep the tears at bay.
"I feel like I let him down."
Her aunts move closer, their hands reaching out to comfort her.
"You miss him because he's important to you," Dominga says.
Her grandma nods in agreement.
"But remember, Liz, Bennett believed in you. And he wouldn't want you to dwell on regrets. He'd want you to move forward and make him proud."
Liz wipes her eyes and smiles faintly.
"I know, Abuelita. That's why I want to do my best—for him. Even if he's not here, I'll make sure he's proud of me."
Their heartfelt moment is interrupted by the ding of Liz's phone. She picks it up, and her eyes widen as she reads the notification.
"What's it say?" Dominga asks.
Liz glances up with a mixture of surprise and excitement.
"Wyn and I, along with five other servers, have been assigned to serve at the Holy Mass today!"
Her grandma's face lights up.
"That's wonderful news, Liz! Let's get your cassock and surplice ready."
Later that day, Liz stands by the Jubilee Door of the Catedral Metropolitana de San Pablo, adjusting her cassock as the towering structure of the cathedral looms above her. The intricate carvings on the door glint in the sunlight, and the faint hum of organ music drifts through the air.
Wyn arrives shortly after, smiling as she waves.
"Hey, Liz. You ready for this?"
"Yeah," Liz replies, though her mind is still clouded with thoughts of Bennett.
The two join the other servers, preparing for the procession. Father Edgar, the presider for the Mass, gathers them in a circle to offer a brief prayer before they begin.
"Let us serve with open hearts and devotion," he says warmly.
As the organ music crescendos, they start the solemn procession to the altar. The congregation watches in reverent silence, the grandeur of the cathedral amplifying the moment.
Liz walks with measured steps, her gaze fixed ahead. Yet, as she passes the pews, she imagines seeing Bennett among the crowd. His smile is so clear in her mind that her heart skips a beat.
The Mass proceeds smoothly. Father Edgar's deep, calming voice fills the space as he reads the Gospel. Wyn, standing beside Liz, leans in and whispers,
"Liz, I've been meaning to ask—what really happened to Bennett?"
Liz hesitates, her grip tightening on her hands. She takes a shaky breath and whispers back, "It's a long story."
"We have time," Wyn assures her, her tone gentle but curious.
Liz casts a quick glance at the altar before speaking.
"Back then, I was... different. I was this hot-headed, cold-hearted girl who always pushed people away. Even the people who cared about me."
Wyn listens intently as Liz continues.
"Bennett was always there for me, no matter how I treated him. He was like... a multi-purpose guy, you know? He did everything—he comforted me, supported me, even when I didn't deserve it."
Liz's voice quivers as the memories resurface.
"But I took him for granted. And one day... he just stopped coming to school. No texts, no calls, nothing. His parents wouldn't talk to me either. In fact, they were upset with how I treated him."
She pauses, her eyes welling up.
"It's my biggest regret, Wyn. I was so cold to him, and he didn't deserve any of it."
Wyn places a comforting hand on Liz's shoulder.
"Liz, you can't change the past. But what you can do is keep his memory alive by being better. Even though he's not here, he's still with you. Wherever he is, I'm sure he's watching over you."
Liz nods, wiping her tears discreetly.
"I just... I feel like he's still around. Maybe even at school, somewhere. Locked away."
"If we do find him," Wyn says with a hopeful smile,
"it would be a great way to reconnect with his parents too. It could be a peace offering, a way to make things right."
As Father Edgar begins his Homily, his words catch Liz's attention.
"Finding oneself is not always an easy journey," he says.
"Sometimes, it takes losing someone—or something—to realize what truly matters. The heart is a complex thing, but it is also our compass. Those who matter to us most often act as our guide, even in their absence."
Liz's gaze shifts to the image of St. Paul at the Retablo Mayor. Memories of Bennett flood her mind—his laughter, his encouragement, his unwavering support. Each memory feels like a gentle reminder of who she is and who she wants to become.
Closing her eyes, Liz whispers a silent prayer.
After the Mass, as they return to the Jubilee Door to process out, Liz turns to Wyn.
"I really hope we find him soon."
Wyn nods, her expression soft.
"We will, Liz. And when we do, it'll be worth everything."
Together, they walk out of the cathedral, their hearts a little lighter and their resolve a little stronger.
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