Chapter 33.5 – How We Got Together (Part 11)

Present Time – Alex Narrating

The sound of cheers still lingers faintly below as I gaze out the tall window of the school hall at BORNEO-SIGMA College, watching the final streamers drift in the golden evening light.

The IGNITE Festival has ended.
But the memories from today... somehow linger stronger than any firework.

Below, I see familiar faces glowing with laughter.

Mariam—Nat’s best friend, my own closest buddy. The way she’s laughing with Amin, her fiancé now… it still surprises me how far we’ve come.

Sylvia, leaning by the stage pillars… acting cool like always. But even from here, I can still sense her eyes searching for me. That girl... she’s wild, scary, intense—but honestly?

…I care about her.
Not in the same way as Nat… but enough that I’d burn the world for her too.

Then there’s Priscilla.
That stubborn, annoying, competitive brat who never stops trying to match me in every class.
But you know what?

She’s a fun kind of chaos. One I wouldn’t trade for anything.

I lean against the frame of the window, phone pressed against my ear.
Natalie’s soft voice is on the other end.

“You know, Nat... I’m just glad I stayed. Even if we’re still far apart… even if we’re chasing different skies…”

A moment of silence—
Then she giggles.

“Heh… Aren’t we supposed to be rivals? At one point, we hated each other. I think we wanted to hate each other.”

“We were so stupid,” she adds playfully. “We didn’t even realize we were falling.”

I smile faintly, looking down at the festival crowd again.

“…Yeah. That kind of ego…”

“But it was your fault, you know,” she continues, “Because of you—I found my path.”

“Because of you… I found my mission.”

“Because of you… I knew I wanted to be with you.”

Her voice falls into a whisper so quiet, I almost think I imagined it.

“Together…”

My throat tightens.

Three Months Earlier – Alex’s Side

Three months after the Wan incident…

He’s changed.

No longer the hot-headed loudmouth. Wan now smiles more genuinely.
Laughs a bit softer.
He hangs out with Faiz, Marina, and even Adinor, playing around like they’d always been part of the same squad.

Maybe…
Maybe he found something to fight for too.

As for me?

Well—

That first date with Natalie…

Still stuck in my head like a scratch I can’t stop picking at.

Flashback – The Day After the Playground Incident

Saturday morning.

The sunlight cuts through the curtains in our shared room. I sit by the window, staring blankly at the trees swaying outside. The buildings in the distance shimmer slightly from the morning heat.

I rest my chin on my palm.

Why am I thinking about Natalie…?

"Huh!? What the heck!?"

I suddenly shake my head, startled by my own thoughts.

That’s when I notice it—
Mom.

Arms crossed. Leaning against the doorframe.
Wearing that grin.

“Soooo… weekend’s here. Any plans, mister mysterious?”

“Uhh…”

I fumble.

Looking outside again, pretending to be deep in thought, as if I didn’t just imagine Natalie spinning around in her baju kurung like a runway model.

“Well… maybe the site? But, uh… someone’s visiting, so…”

“Hmmm~? Someone?” she raises an eyebrow.

I wince.
Danger. Danger level rising.

“Y-Yeah. My friend. She, uh… asked me to go somewhere with her.”

“She?”

Why did I say SHE!?!

Mom’s grin gets wider.

No.
No, this isn’t a grin.

This is a predator who has found her prey.

“Can’t wait to meet her.”

My stomach sinks.

I try to recover.

“Well, actually, you might know her already…”

“Even better. Really can’t wait,” she beams.

Abort mission.
Abort mission!!

WHY DID I BLURT IT OUT!?

Note to self: Never, ever underestimate a Sabahan mom. They don’t need lie detectors—they are the lie detectors.

Back to Present – Alex (narration)

So much has changed.
So many threads… tangled and twisted.

But one thing's for sure—

Natalie.

She was the spark that lit the path I couldn’t see before.
And maybe…

Just maybe…

We weren’t meant to fall apart.
But to fall together.

Alex’s Side – Next Morning

Morning sun spills through the half-closed blinds in my room.

I yawn, rubbing my eyes and looking at the mirror.
Plain T-shirt. Khaki pants. Hoodie.

Yeah. Perfectly normal. Totally casual.
It’s not like this is a date or anything.

Right…?

Just as I reach for my bag, Mom appears by the door—arms crossed, eyes squinting like a hawk.

“Uh huh… Aren’t you supposed to wear something nicer?”

“Huh!? It’s just a meet-up, okay?! Chill, Mom!”

“Really now?”

“Yeah!! Really!!”

She raises an eyebrow, that smug Sabah mom smirk appearing on her face like she knows something I don’t.

“Alright then~”

I groan internally. This is a trap. A mother trap.
Before I can even flee, Hana, my little sister, crawls right into the doorway and blocks my escape.

She just sits there.
Smiling. Like a fluffy mini boss.

“Oi, move. I gotta go. Look after Mom for me, okay?”

“Uuuu~” she giggles innocently.

Cute attack: Super effective.
But I manage to slide past her with only minor psychological damage.

My shoes are waiting by the door, neatly arranged.
I pick up my sling bag… and it feels… heavier?

Opening it, I peek inside.

What the heck—

Pop-Tarts.
Strawberry flavour. My favorite.

A box of orange juice.
A small pack of Oreos.
A water bottle—wait, why is it pink?

…Whatever. Hydration first, masculinity later.

But then—

I spot something that makes my soul leave my body.

“…HUH!?”

A poncho.

A spare pair of underpants.
Spare clothes.

“Mom… What. Is. This…?” 😑

She just hums from the kitchen.

“Just in case.”

JUST IN CASE OF WHAT!?
WHAT ARE YOU THINKING, WOMAN!?

I slap my forehead.

Nope. Not thinking about it.
I’m just going to pretend it’s for first-aid emergencies, and not whatever wild theory she’s cooking up in that mom-brain of hers.

I take a deep breath.

Bag zipped. Shoes tied.

Let’s go.

I step outside, mind still swirling with the thought of meeting Natalie. This… this isn’t a date. It’s just helping with her design ideas.

Totally innocent.

Then—

“YO!!! BROOOOOOO!!!”

Faiz nearly tackles me from behind.

“GAH—!?”

He throws an arm around my shoulder, grinning like a devil.

“Where ya heading, my man?”

“Uhh… I’ve got plans. Helping a… friend with homework.”

Lame excuse. But if I say “her”, he’ll never let it go.

“Ohhh~ homework, huh? A'ight, I see you. Study hard, bro!”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

I give him the most neutral wave I can manage.
Then suddenly—

“HOOOOOI~!!”

Marina appears like a jungle cat, landing right next to us.

Her eyes go straight to the bag.

“What’s with the full-on luggage, huh?”

“Eh? It’s nothing. Just going to… a friend’s house.”

She leans closer, inspecting me like a customs officer.

“Hmmmm… okay. Got it.”

“Right. See ya.”

I walk off. Fast.
Too fast.

Behind me, I can hear their voices—

“He’s totally going to see a girl.”

“Yep. That’s definitely the 'I'm-not-going-on-a-date' look.”

“Ah, young love.”

I turn the corner quickly.

Mission escape: Failed.

But still—

I can't help but smirk.

Late Morning

Once I reach her house, I slow my pace, heart thumping slightly louder than usual.
It’s quiet. No one at the front. Not even Luna, her sister.

She did say to buzz her when I arrive.

So I reach for the small bell on the gate—
Ding-dong.

Moments later, the door creaks open—
And there she is.

Natalie.

Wearing oversized glasses.
And… wait—

Pajamas!?
Fluffy, pastel pajamas. Cartoon cat prints. Messy curls dangling over her face.

“A-Alex!? Wai—WAIT!!”

I blink. “Uh huh… see? Told ya I’d come early.”

“You weren’t supposed to be that early!!” she yells before slamming the door shut in a flurry.

I hear frantic footsteps inside—thump, thump, thump!—probably her scrambling across the wooden floor.

Ten minutes pass.

The door creaks again.

This time… she's completely transformed.

Whoa.

Baggy blue jean overalls with a touch of flair, buttoned at one strap.
A white long-sleeve shirt with subtle lace trimming, tucked in just enough to give her waist definition.
White scrunchie tying her French curls into a neat side ponytail.
Black ballet flats and lace socks, giving off a nostalgic retro vibe—like something out of a '90s hip-hop MV.

I stare for a moment too long.

“Okay, come on, let’s go!” she says casually, locking the front door behind her.

I glance around. “No one's home?”

“Told you, remember? Mom's at dance, and Dad’s is at the university and Phylis got class. We’ve got time—come on!”

Her pace is brisk. I follow, still adjusting to the image burned into my brain: pajama-Natalie vs. fashion-icon Natalie.

This girl’s a walking contradiction.

Narration – 40 minutes later

The walk to the city is long but not uncomfortable.
She doesn’t talk much, and neither do I.
But it’s not awkward. Just… quiet. The kind of quiet that feels okay.

She suddenly points.

“There. That’s my favorite place!”

It’s a narrow thrift shop tucked between two larger buildings. Old signage. Faded awnings. But the windows sparkle with handpicked vintage clothing displays.

A cheerful voice comes from inside.

“Yo Nat! Lookin’ cool today!”

“Heh, hey! Brought my pal here. He needs help—major help.”

“...Oi.”

The shopkeeper—a laid-back guy with bleached hair and a loose Nirvana tee—waves us in.

Natalie grabs my wrist.

“Come on!”

She yanks me inside, eyes gleaming with pure excitement.
I’m caught off guard—not just by the pull, but by her whole aura.

She’s glowing.

Like this is her world.

The walls are lined with second-hand racks—colorful jackets, printed tees, traditional dresses, even old school uniforms. The scent of aged fabric and lavender detergent hangs in the air.

Nat is already zipping through the aisles like a missile.

“Okay… something inspired? Or maybe… cowboy style with a twist? Or—or maybe something totally random like—wait, do you even own vests!?”

“I don’t even know how to respond to that.”

“Shut up, you’re my mannequin now.”

And just like that, she’s stacking jackets, scarves, and trousers into my arms like a human clothing rack.

I sigh.

But secretly…

It’s kinda fun.

Inside the thrift store

“Here. Try these!”

Natalie dumps a bundle of clothes into my arms like a fashion ninja.

A white tribal-print T-shirt, loose sports pants, a pair of clean Nike trainers, and—oh, come on—a trucker hat?

“Go, go, go! Into the changing room, now!” she orders, pushing me toward the curtain like I’m some dress-up doll.

I shuffle inside the tiny changing booth, bumping my shoulder against the mirror. The walls are paper-thin. I swear I can hear her humming just outside.

“How’s it going in there?” she calls.

“Uh… yeah, kinda fits.”

“Huh? What?”

Before I can react, she yanks the curtain open—just sticking her head in.

I’m still in my boxers.

“W-WHAT THE HECK?! CLOSE THE CURTAIN!!”

“Hurry up already! You’re not made of porcelain!”

She pulls her head back with a roll of her eyes, like it’s no big deal. I stand there frozen.

Does she… not care? Or is she just way too comfortable around me?

This girl is insane.

A few minutes later…

I step out of the booth, now wearing the full ensemble.

I glance at myself in the mirror.

The tribal tee fits snug around my shoulders, the pants drape casually, and the windbreaker she tossed me at the last second adds a sharp, streetwise edge. Paired with the trucker hat—slightly crooked—I look like I walked straight out of a vintage MTV hip hop video.

“Looks cool… but what do you think?” I ask hesitantly.

Natalie steps back, crossing her arms. Her eyes scan me top to bottom.

“Hmm…”

She suddenly reaches for my head.

“Your hair’s a mess.”

“Huh—? Hey—!”

Too late.

She’s running her fingers through it, gently tugging strands into place, smoothing down the sides. Her fingers are warm.

My chest tightens.

She’s so close I can smell her shampoo—vanilla with something floral underneath.

Then she smiles.

“There. That’s better. You actually look… kinda cool.”

I glance back at the mirror. No longer the awkward kid from Sabah. Now I look like—

No. I look like someone.

Like I belong.

This girl… she’s got some kind of power.

“Whoa! That look is fire!” the store clerk says from behind the counter.

“Told ya!” Natalie replies, proud.

Then she turns back to me with a grin.

“Okay. My turn.”

She struts off like she owns the place.

Narration – Five Minutes Later

She steps out.

I blink.

Then blink again.

She’s wearing a loose oversized tee, the sleeves rolled just right. Short denim pants hug her thighs. The same lace socks and black shoes, now paired with a retro snapback hat tilted to the side.

And somehow—somehow—she makes it look cute and hot at the same time.

“So…?” she asks, tilting her head.

I panic.

My heart does this weird jump. My brain short-circuits.

WHAT THE HELL AM I THINKING!?

I smack myself lightly across the face.

“D-Dude!? What’s wrong with you?” she yelps, half-laughing.

“I… uh… g-good. You look good. That’s it. Yep.”

Her eyes narrow suspiciously.

Then she smirks.

“You're weird.”

And walks back toward the mirror like it’s nothing.

Meanwhile, I’m over here trying not to melt into the floor like a fool.

After what felt like a full-on fashion montage, we finally settled on the outfits. Mine makes me look like I just stepped off a music video set. Hers? Somewhere between vintage pop star and retro bookworm. Somehow, it works.

We bring the stuff to the counter, and the shop clerk waves at Natalie.

“That’ll be four dollars.”

Oh no.

My wallet might as well be a black hole.
💸 I’m broke.

I freeze up, pretending to check my pockets like I dropped a coin that could save the day.
Nope. Still poor.

Natalie casually flips open her wallet like she’s got a platinum card. Crisp bills peeking out.

“Here ya go,” she says, handing over a five like it’s nothing.

“Thanks, Nat. Oh! Before I forget…” the clerk ducks under the counter, pulling up a plastic bag filled with fabric scraps and half-folded clothes. “Here’s the leftover stuff you picked last time. You might like it.”

Natalie’s eyes light up like she just found buried treasure.

“Yes!! These are perfect! I can totally upcycle this!”

She’s practically bouncing on her toes. It’s kinda cute.

There’s a lot of it though. Too much for her to carry.

“Here,” I offer, already grabbing two of the bags before she even says a word.

She looks at me. That brief pause.

Then smiles.

That smile…

“Thanks. Alright then—off to the next place! But we need to catch a bus.”

“Uh-huh. Got it.”

Bus Stop – Midday, cloudy skies, quiet breeze

We sit on the bench, the thrift store haul sitting beside us.

She pulls out a worn-out paperback, the edges dog-eared and covered in decorative stickers. It’s clearly been through a few rereads.

“Whatcha reading?” I ask.

“Hm?” She glances up, then casually hands it to me. “Here.”

I look at the cover:
Island of the Blue Dolphins by Scott O'Dell.

Classic.

There are underlined quotes, sticky tabs, and even a little hand-drawn chibi Karana doodle at the corner.

I read a highlighted line:

"The time of silence had passed. I had learned to live alone on the island, to hunt and cook and make my own clothes. I had grown strong and fearless."

She sees where I’m looking.

“I like this part,” Natalie says softly, her fingers brushing the edge of the page. “Karana lived alone… but she grew strong. That kind of strength is something I… I guess I admire.”

The wind shifts.

Her eyes are downcast, focused—but there’s something deeper in her voice. A quiet longing.

For a second, I forget where we are.

That moment triggers something in me—a flash.
A shadow from my past.

Flashback – A memory of Frederica

I remember sitting on a worn couch in Long Pasia, light flickering from an old CRT TV.
Frederica holding a Sailor Moon doll in her lap, her smile soft.

“She’s not just cute, Alex,” she had said. “Usagi fights for love. For her friends. Even if she’s scared.”

Present

My chest tightens.

Now here I am again. Sitting next to a girl who’s quietly strong. A girl who fights, not with fists, but with her dreams, her voice, and her style.

I glance at Natalie again.

The wind plays with the ends of her scrunchie-tied curls. Her outfit screams retro flair, but her soul? It’s pure vintage courage.

She’s not just a bookworm.
She’s someone who—like Karana, like Usagi—wants to be strong in her own way.

She looks up at me, blinking.

“What?” she says flatly, tilting her head.

“Nothing…” I look away quickly. “You’re… just weird, that’s all.”

“Rude,” she mutters, going back to her book.

I smirk.
Yep. She’s definitely weird.

But the kind of weird…

The bus arrives with a gentle screech, its doors folding open with that familiar hiss of air pressure.

Natalie is the first to step in. Without hesitation, she pulls out a few coins and pays for both of us.

“Here,” she says casually, like it’s no big deal.

I blink.

She didn’t even ask.

We move toward the back and take our seats—side by side. Not front and back like some awkward classmates.

She goes right back to reading Island of the Blue Dolphins, completely absorbed in it. Her eyes flick across the page as if each word is sacred.

Meanwhile, I stare out the window as the city rolls past us—corner shops, diners, murals on old brick walls, rusty fences and vending machines. A slice of urban nostalgia.

Then she breaks the silence.

“Hey… um… sorry. About last time.”

I turn slightly, confused.

“Huh? Uh… well, I guess I should be saying sorry too. I mean, hitting you… there.”

She immediately pinches me hard on my side.

“OW! Hey!!”
I jerk in my seat, clutching my ribs.
“Don’t remind me of that, ekk!!” 😖

Her expression softens as she looks at me.

Her eyes…

They glitter like polished amber under the filtered sunlight.

Why… why is her gaze so intense all of a sudden?
Is it the reflection off her glasses?
Or am I… just completely losing my mind?

“Hey… thanks,” she mumbles, turning away quickly.

“What?”

“For accompanying me… Because…”

I scratch my head, trying to play it cool.

“Nah. I’m chill. Better than being dragged into one of mom’s crazy National Geographic side quests. Honestly, I just hope baby Hana survives today.”

“Huh?”
She tilts her head, curious. “Now I’m curious… What kind of adventures are we talking about?”

She’s got that 🧐 curious bookworm face again.

I sigh, realizing she’s serious.

“Well… lemme think. I guess the earliest one I can remember is back in kindergarten. Mom suddenly got called in for some emergency and Dad was outstationed.”

“Hana wasn’t born yet?”

“Yeah, it was just me and mom.”

She nods, listening carefully.

“So, mom had to fly to Long Pasia—somewhere deep in the jungle—and guess what?”

“What?”
Her eyes widen.

“She flew the plane but with a copilot because she did something that unexpected.”

“Wha—?!” 😳
Natalie’s jaw drops. “Wait. Are you serious!? Your mom is a pilot?!”

I groan and lean back in my seat.

“Yeah… pilot, climber, diver. Take your pick. She’s like if Indiana Jones had a PhD in Anthropology and a license to scare the crap out of her own son.”

“No way…”

“Worse. On that trip, we didn’t land at the usual place. We literally had to parachute in. And I’m not talking some tourist thing. This was survival 101. My first rite of passage was literally falling from the sky.”

“😳😳😳”

Nat stares at me like I’m some character from a movie she can’t believe is real.

“That sounds… fun.”

I snap back at her.

“FUN?! Are you crazy!? I saw my short life flash before my eyes! I was praying to Allah so hard in the air I thought I’d unlock the next level of enlightenment!”

She bursts into giggles.

“Still sounds fun to me.”

“Yeah, well… tell that to my underwear that day.”

I grumble while she’s still laughing.

“That’s not even the worst. Another time, mom got sent to meet a fishing village—somewhere way up in northern Sabah. She had to dive underwater to reach the community. The Sea Gypsies, or what people call the Orang Bajau Laut.”

Natalie is quiet now, eyes sparkling with awe.

“That sounds beautiful…”

“It was. Until she lost her bearings underwater and we ended up stranded on some unknown island.”

“No way.”

“Oh yeah. She legit forgot which direction we came from. We camped on a beach for like two nights with some boiled water… and, get this—mom’s multitool and duct tape. She literally made a tent from banana leaves.”

Natalie looks away, trying to hide her amazement.

“Wow…” she whispers.

Then she says softly—

“I kinda wish I had a mom like that.”

I glance at her, surprised.

But she doesn’t elaborate.

She just goes quiet, her hands fidgeting with the edge of her book.

The bus keeps moving.
Our shoulders brush slightly.

Neither of us pulls away.

The bus hums beneath our feet as it snakes through the town. Natalie sits beside me, her arms folded around a thick novel she’s barely turned a page of. She’s been talking for a while now, but her voice always keeps me hooked.

“Dad always talks about his travels,” she murmurs, staring at the window like it’s a portal. “But he never lets me in on that kind of adventure…”

A short pause.

“…Well, Mom would totally freak out… and Phylis…”

I glance sideways. “Okay…”

“EKK!!” she suddenly squeals, jumping in her seat, mimicking her sister with a dramatic gasp. “Phylis said to me—” Natalie crosses her arms and scrunches her face in a perfect mockup of her older sister, voice deepening—“‘A bookworm like you wouldn’t last a day out there!’”

I raise an eyebrow. “Wow. Supportive.”

She grins sheepishly. “Jeez… I am a girl too, y’know… though she makes it sound like I’m a Victorian ghost who’s never touched grass.”

“Still… must be a reason for you wanting it so bad.”

Natalie turns to me slowly, her expression softening. “Emmm… continue.”

I lean back against the worn leather seat, eyes on the ceiling, words rolling out like they’ve been waiting.

“I was born in Long Pasia. That time… Mom told me she was working deep in the forest. Dad followed her there.”

Her eyes widen, lips parting just slightly. “Wait… don’t tell me—”

“Yep,” I say with a smirk. “Old school jungle life. Just like the stories Mom used to tell. No doctors. No hospitals. Just my grandma and grandpa… and a whole lot of faith.”

Natalie gasps softly. “But what about… I mean, what if something had happened?”

I shrug, my voice growing quieter. “That part? Mom said she can’t really remember… maybe it was too much. Or maybe she didn’t want to.”

“With a life like that, I guess forgetting things isn’t so hard,” Natalie whispers.

I chuckle bitterly. “Yeah… like that one time she forgot where I was. Literally.”

Natalie giggles, trying to cover it behind her hand. “Sorry… that’s awful but kind of—adorable?”

“Thanks,” I deadpan, rolling my eyes, but the smile I try to hide betrays me.

Time slips between us like silk, the world outside blurring into a watercolor of streets, old shops, and sun-tipped trees. We talk for hours—about nothing, about everything—until even the bus driver side-eyes us through the rearview.

Then suddenly—

Click!

Natalie shoots up, pressing the stop button.

“Huh?” I blink. “Wait, what?”

“I saw it,” she says, her voice tinged with excitement. “We’re getting off!”

The bus screeches gently as it pulls to the side of an old road. We step off, the warm breeze brushing past as the doors hiss shut behind us.

In front of us stands a rustic hall—weathered bricks, vines curling up the sides, and a giant poster fluttering at the entrance.

to be continued