Page 60 of Between Here and There

We fall into a comfortable silence, listening to the rustling of the leaves, our friends’ chatter, and the faint calls of birds somewhere in the distance. After a moment, he tilts his head toward me. “But seriously, are you okay? Not too tired?”

I shrug, realizing he’s not teasing anymore. “I’m tired, sure. But I’m okay. Honestly, I didn’t think I’d get this far without wanting to tap out, so… progress?”

He nods, his expression softening. “You’re doing great. Just a little more, and you’ll get to say you survived a hike up Mount Pulag. Think of how smug you’ll feel.”

I roll my eyes but laugh. “Oh, absolutely. I’ll bring it up at every possible opportunity. ‘Did I ever tell you about the time I conquered Mount Pulag?’ People are going to hate me.”

“They’ll envy you,” Joshua corrects, standing up and offering me his hand. “Come on, conqueror. Let’s keep moving before the ‘forest monsters’ catch up.”

I take his hand, feeling a little steadier on my feet, and together we head back to the trail.

We reach the campsite just as the moon replaces the sun in the sky. I have to admit, for all my grumbling about the hike, it’s beautiful up here. The air is brisk and refreshing, with a coolness that feels invigorating rather than uncomfortable. And the view? It’s otherworldly. A delicate fog blankets the landscape, curling around the mountaintops like a scene from a dream. This is the only time it feels good to feel small. Like, suddenly, there’s a whole big world out there, and I’m only a tiny speck of dust in it. It makes my problems feel less daunting. A hush falls over the group as we all take it in, each of us equally awestruck by nature’s quiet magic.

Bon is the first to break the spell, her camera clicking softly as she snaps pictures of the view. As a film producer, she’salwaysready. She’s been documenting every part of the hike—the challenging climbs, the laughter, the little breaks in between—and now she turns to us. “Group photo! Come on!” she calls, waving everyone over.

We gather together, clumsy and tired but still smiling, as Bon sets up the shot. The camera clicks once, twice, capturing us as we are, windswept and surrounded by clouds that look close enough to touch.

After the group photo, everyone scatters to take their own pictures, phones and cameras snapping away. Bon, ever the director, calls out again. “Em! Kuya! Photo together!”

Joshua, who’s been silent beside me for a while, casually takes my hand and leads me closer to the edge where the view is clearest. I freeze as I look down, my stomach flipping violently. Yikes. Big mistake. The drop below feels endless, and suddenly my legs feel like spaghetti.

“Relax,” Joshua murmurs, his voice steady, his arm wrapping securely around my waist. “I got you. Just look straight ahead.”

And, somehow, Idorelax. His grip is firm and unshakable, and even as my pulse races, I trust him. Slowly, I exhale, forcing myself to look up instead of down.

Bon calls for us to smile, and we do—first one photo, then another. On the third, just as the camera clicks, Joshua slides an arm around my shoulder and presses a quick kiss to my cheek.

I freeze. My eyes probably go wide as dinner plates, and my face burns like the sun’s still out. Joshua chuckles softly, clearly amused by my reaction, and I can’t help but glare at him.

“What?” he asks.

I just roll my eyes. From a distance, Bon says, “That’s adorable! Okay now scoot, it’s our turn.” She pulls Ryan up to the edge.

We head toward the tents to set up our sleeping areas while Bon and Ryan stay behind, fully immersed in their own little photoshoot. They laugh and strike pose after pose against the backdrop of clouds and fading light, clearly unwilling to waste a second of the moment. The guys proceed to pitch the tents, while we set up the food.

“I would’ve loved a bonfire, I wonder why it isn’t allowed here,” Haley says.

“Because this is a protected area,” I say. “There are special species of plants here, and endangered animals like tarsiers and mountain rats.” And undocumented monsters.

“Thank you, Google,” she replies.

“Did you… research about the mountain?” Denise reluctantly asks.

“She researches everything,” Bon interjects. She proceeds to set up the chairs. Denise helps her, while Haley and I attempt to put up the table. It’s harder than it looks, so, yes, it’s a two-person job.

“Why?” Denise asks.

I chuckled. “Believe me, I ask myself the same question,” I say. “I just get really paranoid and want to make sure that I’m prepared for anything. I don’t want to be caught off guard.” What I don’t tell her is that ever since my dad died from a sudden heart attack, and I felt helpless because I couldn’t save him, I knew I never wanted to feel that way again. I have to be prepared for anything and everything.

“That’s impressive,” Denise says.

“Glad to know you think so,” I reply.

When the tables, chairs, and food are set up, we take our seats and wait for the guys.

“Tents pitched!” Richard yells. He strides over to Haley and shows her his watch. “I told you it would only take us twenty minutes. Pay up, little loser.”

Haley scowls and begrudgingly hands him a crumpled one-thousand-peso bill. “I’ll get that back,” she warns him.

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