Smash to the Heart

Margo's POV

Breaks were short, but it was the only time we ever got to breathe—and actually see each other.

I wasn’t even supposed to be outside yet.

 Coach Leo liked his athletes disciplined, precise, and “ten minutes early to everything.” But he also knew I moved better when I wasn’t completely burnt out. 

So, after rounds of drills and footwork, he finally waved me off for a quick water break.

“Five minutes, Margo,” he called out. “Hindi 'to tambayan.”

I gave him a thumbs up as I jogged off the court.

The benches near the rec area were already half-occupied—a shaded spot by the tree line where athletes from different departments tended to cluster between sessions. 

I spotted Syra first, sprawled across the bench like she owned the place, nursing an energy drink like it was life or death.

“Akala ko late ka today?” I asked, dropping my towel on the seat beside her.

She gave me a half-smirk. “Sinong ako? Never akong late, girl. Nandito na ako bago pa magbukas ng gym.”

“Wow, character development?”

“Hindi, gutom lang.”

Caia arrived a minute later, hair still damp from her swim session. “Muntik na naman akong malunod sa kapraningan ng coach ko,” she muttered, slipping off her hoodie. “Four rounds non-stop. Tapos underwater drills pa. Feeling ko gills na lang kulang.”

“You good?” I asked.

She nodded. “Sanay na. Pero nakakainis pa rin.”

Syra sat up straighter and looked around. “Si Miv?”

Right on cue, Miv appeared from the track field, wiping her face with a towel. 

Her stride was steady, casual—not in a rush, not dragging either. 

She nodded at us as she reached the bench, dropping her gym bag quietly before sitting beside Caia.

“Intense run?” Caia asked her.

“Mm. Coach made us do pace sprints. Pang-mental torture yata ‘yun.”

Syra groaned. “Lahat ng coach, parang may sadistic tendencies no?”

Miv just shrugged.

The four of us sat in a loose circle, each catching our breath in different ways — some with water, others with silence. 

I didn’t realize how much I missed this kind of break until it started becoming the best part of my training days.

“Coach Leo gave you hell again?” Syra nudged me.

“As usual,” I muttered. “Footwork drills, shadow swings, serve placements. Lahat. And it’s not even noon.”

“Yayamanin ka raw ‘pag sumali ka sa Olympics,” Syra joked.

“Ewan ko sa’yo,” I said, but I smiled anyway.

Somewhere in the middle of our small talk, I noticed something.

Caia passed Miv a protein bar without looking, like it was a reflex. 

And Miv, barely blinking, accepted it like it was nothing new.

It was small — probably not worth pointing out. 

But it wasn’t the first time I noticed something like that. 

A shared bottle. 

A borrowed towel. 

A glance that lingered for half a second longer than necessary.

I kept it to myself.

“G ka sa food mamaya?” Syra suddenly asked me.

“Depends. Baka may extra drills si Coach Leo.”

“Sabihan mo ‘yung coach mo, magkaka-ulcer ka na.”

I laughed. “Gusto mo ikaw mag-lecture sa kanya?”

“Basta sama ka,” she insisted.

I looked over at Miv and Caia, still caught up in a quiet exchange about something—I couldn’t hear it clearly, but Caia was talking softly and Miv was listening like she always did: focused, unreadable, but definitely tuned in.

Syra leaned in. “Napapansin mo ba sila?”

I blinked. “What?”

“Sila. Si Caia tsaka si Miv. Parang… ewan. May vibe.”

I played it cool. “Baka nagkakasundo lang.”

“Or baka ‘di lang nila alam na may something na sila.”

“Ikaw lang yata ang may radar para sa mga ganyan.”

She gave me a knowing smile but let it go.

Time was ticking. 

I heard Coach Leo’s whistle from across the complex. 

That was my cue.

“Balik na ‘ko. Baka tanggalin ‘yung water privilege ko,” I said, grabbing my towel.

“Balik ka ha,” Syra called out. “Post-training food trip, final answer!”

“Sige na nga,” I replied as I jogged off.

As I glanced back briefly, I caught a glimpse of Caia nudging Miv with her elbow, something playful in her expression. 

Miv didn’t smile fully, but her eyes softened.

I didn’t say anything. No one did.

But I noticed.

—

The gym lights were still on when I finished my last drill.

Coach Leo had pushed me extra hard today — probably trying to shake off whatever sluggishness I had during our earlier rally sessions. 

I could feel the stiffness in my legs, the sweat still clinging to the back of my neck, and the familiar ache in my shoulders.

“Rest well,” he said as he tossed me a cold bottle of water. “At ‘wag mo kalimutang i-log ‘yung drills mo.”

“Got it, Coach.”

“Text mo rin ako kung may nararamdaman ka bukas, ha. ‘Wag ka magmatigas.”

I gave him a tired salute before heading off.

It was quiet now, the kind of quiet that only shows up when everyone’s packed up and left. 

I walked past the track field and heard faint laughter from the other side of the complex. Familiar voices.

The rec benches were still there, dimly lit under the yellow bulbs. I slowed down when I saw Syra sitting on top of the table, legs dangling, eating chips from a loud crumpled bag. 

Caia was lying down on the bench, one arm across her face, clearly exhausted but still awake. 

Miv was sitting beside her, absently tying and untying her shoelaces like she couldn’t decide if she wanted to leave or stay.

They looked… comfortable.

I wasn’t even sure they were waiting for me.

But Syra spotted me immediately. “Oy! Andyan na si overtime queen!”

I gave her a weak smile and tossed my bag down. “Shut up. Nagka-drama session kami ni Coach Leo.”

“Wow, emotional tennis moment?” Caia mumbled without opening her eyes.

Miv looked up. “Extra drills?”

“Always,” I muttered, sitting on the bench across them. “Kailangan daw akong hagurin para ma-polish.”

“Grabe, parang kotse lang.”

“Premium pa,” Syra added with a grin.

I leaned back and took in the air—crisp with sweat, pine trees, and that earthy smell of clay and court dust.

We didn’t talk much at first. 

It was one of those rare silences that didn’t feel awkward. 

Just four people sitting in the same space, letting the day melt off their skin.

Caia suddenly sat up and grabbed her water bottle, accidentally brushing against Miv’s arm. “Ay, sorry.”

“Okay lang,” Miv said softly.

The moment passed. 

But again—that shift.

That unspoken awareness between them.

I glanced at Syra. 

She caught my eye and smirked like, you saw that too, right?

I looked away.

“Sino may plan bukas?” Syra asked after a beat.

“May drills pa rin ako,” I said.

“Same,” Miv murmured.

“Swimming pa rin ako. Coach said I need to work on my turns,” Caia groaned.

Syra tossed a chip in her mouth. “Ako lang pala ang may break? Wow, sa wakas.”

“Don’t rub it in,” I muttered, but I was smiling.

We stayed there for a while longer. 

No rush. 

No noise. 

Just the low hum of lights, the sound of breathing, and the occasional rustle of chips.

It was peaceful.

“Alis na tayo?” Miv asked eventually.

“Yeah,” Caia said, standing up and stretching. “Baka may mang-ghost na naman sa atin ‘pag gabi na dito.”

Syra laughed. “Ghost daw o. Bakit, may guilty?”

Caia gave her a warning glance. “Wag mo ‘kong simulan.”

I grabbed my bag. “Sabay na tayo.”

We walked out of the rec area, the four of us trailing in a loose line. 

Caia and Miv walked ahead, a bit closer than usual. 

Not touching. 

But not far either.

Syra fell in step beside me. “So… still nothing, huh?”

I raised a brow. “About?”

She gave me a look.

I shrugged. “Let them be.”

She grinned. “Sige. Pero pag nagkatuluyan ‘yan, ikaw ang unang sisingilin ko sa hula ko.”

I didn’t say anything.

But I smiled.

—

As we neared the parking lot gates, Syra suddenly stopped walking, her excitement almost palpable.

“Wait lang. G na ba tayo sa fishball?” she asked, her eyes lighting up like she’d just found buried treasure.

Caia blinked in confusion. “May bukas pa ba?”

“Meron ‘yung usual sa tapat ng admin building. May ilaw pa eh. Kanina pa ‘ko naglalaway sa kwek-kwek,” Syra added, practically bouncing on her heels.

Miv hesitated for a second before answering, her voice laced with a hint of skepticism. “Seryoso ba ‘to?”

I just shrugged and fished out my wallet from my jacket pocket, flipping it open. “Libre ko,” I said nonchalantly. “’Wag lang kayong mag-away sa suka.”

Syra, of course, didn’t need any more convincing. “Woooow!” She threw an arm around me in what could only be described as an enthusiastic side-hug. “Ikaw na talaga ang MVP ng gabi.”

I grinned, feeling a little proud of myself. “I just got my allowance and it's doubled,” I said, winking. “My mom's in a good mood ata.”

“Rich kid talaga,” Syra teased as we started walking toward the street.

They didn’t hesitate after that. 

We crossed the street toward the admin building, drawn to the warm glow of the street vendor’s cart. 

The air was thick with the scent of sizzling oil and garlic, mingling with that signature spiced vinegar that made the back of your throat tingle in the best way.

“Ate! Fishball sampu, kwek-kwek anim, at isaw… ilan gusto n’yo?” I asked, turning to look at them.

“Dalawa sa akin,” Caia said casually as she tied her hair up into a loose ponytail, ready for a quick snack.

“Same,” Miv echoed, standing beside Caia, though her tone was more quiet, almost reserved, as usual.

Syra, though, wasn’t about to let the moment slide by without adding her usual flair. “Ako tatlo. Deserve ko, rest day ko bukas,” she declared dramatically, as if she was about to make a sacrifice to the food gods.

I smiled at her, already counting the coins in my palm. “Wow, rest day pala, you are so big-time na.”

While I handed over the bills to the vendor, the girls huddled close, watching the skewers sizzle in the oil. 

The golden kwek-kwek bobbed up and down, sizzling with promise. The whole process was hypnotizing — simple, but so satisfying.

Caia nudged Miv with her elbow. “G ka ba sa spicy suka?”

Miv raised an eyebrow, looking at Caia. “Always.”

I couldn’t help but watch the two of them in that moment. 

It wasn’t anything overt—no big gestures, no love declarations—just a small, subtle exchange. 

Caia carefully took the vinegar bottle from the vendor and tipped it toward Miv’s stick first, just a touch, careful not to spill any of the precious liquid.

It wasn’t grand, but there was something almost intimate about it. 

Something in the way Caia’s fingers lingered on the bottle, the way Miv looked at her for a brief second before nodding in appreciation.

Syra, of course, was way too observant for her own good. 

She leaned over to me, lowering her voice so only I could hear. “Grabe. Pag ‘di pa sila, ako ang masasaktan.”

I almost choked on my own breath, suppressing a laugh. “Let them vibe,” I muttered, trying to keep it casual, though I couldn’t deny the little tug of curiosity that lingered in my chest.

After we grabbed our food, Syra took the opportunity to plunge her skewer straight into the tiny container of spicy vinegar. 

She grinned, like she was about to eat the most epic meal of her life.

“Ano ‘tong vinegar mo, Syra? Special edition?” Caia teased.

Syra just shot her a mischievous grin. “May sili ‘to galing sa Bicol. Legit.”

“Seryoso ka?” Caia raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical.

“Hindi. Nabunot ko lang ‘to kay Ate kanina,” Syra confessed without missing a beat, laughing.

Miv chuckled softly, her usually reserved demeanor cracking just a little as she shook her head.

I didn’t say anything, though. I didn’t need to. 

The warmth of the moment was enough — the soft yellow streetlights casting long shadows, the sounds of late-night chatter and distant laughter, and the simple act of sharing food with the people who had become my closest friends.

For a few minutes, it was just the four of us, strolling back across campus, street food in hand, shoes still dusty from the court. 

There was something comforting about it. 

About being here, in this quiet corner of the night, not needing anything more than the company of each other and a few sticks of fried food.

Syra dipped her fishball into the vinegar once more, giving it a long, dramatic dip as if she was about to perform a ritual. “Mmm, perfect,” she said, savoring the taste as if it were a five-star meal.

Caia, ever the tease, smirked. “Ayos lang, Syra. Mukhang nagdala ka pa ng sariling sawsawan, ha?”

Syra simply shrugged, grinning like she had the world figured out. “MVP eh. Gotta show the love.”

“Wow, mga dramatic,” Miv muttered under her breath, but I could tell she was amused by the antics, even though she didn’t show it outwardly.

The teasing continued as we slowly walked back to the campus grounds, the night still young and the campus mostly empty. 

I caught myself smiling at how easy this was. 

No pressure. 

No pretenses. 

Just us, together in the quiet of the evening.

As we reached the area near the student center, Syra suddenly turned to me with a knowing look. “Next time ikaw ulit ang taya ha.”

“Hey!,” I protested. “One-time promo lang ‘yon! I still have to buy something for myself, you know?”

“Eh ‘di ulitin mo,” Syra challenged, winking. “Baka may cashback.”

We all burst out laughing, the sound of it bouncing off the brick walls around us, mingling with the evening air.

And even as the night stretched on, I felt something light and steady settle in my chest. 

The drills were tough. 

The pressure from Coach Leo would never stop. 

But this? This quiet, simple moment was what made everything else worth it.