III

i am Your secret Admirer
You don’t know me
but i try my best to find out all i can
about You
Your birthday, Your preferences, Your pet peeves

The bus jerks violently as it screeches to an abrupt halt and the bus driver curses loudly enough for everyone on it to hear. Jonathan snaps his notebook shut and peers out the window like everybody else is doing, driven by the same morbid curiosity.

“…oh no, I don’t think she survived …”
“Did she run out onto the road or was she pushed?”
“Can you see …?”

He eavesdrops on the waves of shocked murmurs around him as he cranes his neck for a better view of the accident, but all he can see from where he is sitting is the peak hour traffic in a complete standstill. After a few seconds he loses interest and reopens his notebook.

Jasmine was born on November 19, 1979; a Scorpio. She hangs out with Yen and Cheryl and likes to have her meals at the tiny, stuffy coffee shop opposite the school. On cold and rainy days, she would ask the drink-store uncle in the school cafeteria for coffee, extra hot, and more condensed milk please; on hot and sunny days, she loves a cold chin-chow drink. Jasmine likes to blast Beethoven in the studio when she is working on her projects and Morcheeba when she is hanging out with her posse; she detests stand Hideki’s drafting and draping classes, and is irritated by the people who crowd the stairwell for a clandestine smoke when she wants to have a smoke.

i'm Your secret Admirer
i steal glances at You
my heart beats furiously
whenever You are near

In the common studio, Jasmine’s desk is three tables plus four and a half meters away from Jonathan’s left, perpendicular to his. Last week when Jon had returned to the common studio after his Fundamentals of Design class, Claire, his care-person had called a quick class meeting, the gist of which he missed because Jasmine standing was not three feet away from him. He had glanced furtively at her, intently taking in her effervescent laughter and easy banter with Claire, and noticing only her light laughter and his heartbeats resounding in his ears.

i'm Your secret Admirer
You never notice when we pass each other
along the corridors
but i, i count the times and carefully store each
   moment
in my memory

Jasmine wears Obsession. It has taken Jonathan quite awhile to figure that out but when he finally does, he buys a miniature bottle of Obsession on his birthday every year, because once on his birthday, Jasmine had brush pass him along the corridors and he had caught a whiff of her perfume.

i'm Your secret admirer
i am both our secret
oh
but how i long to tell You of my affection …

but –

Every night, Jonathan fantasizes about running into Jasmine by chance and engaging her in small talk. Will he be able to make her laugh? Will he be witty enough? Will he make a good impression on her? As he tosses and turns restlessly on his bed, he wonders if he will ever gather up enough courage to tell Jasmine how he feels about her.

“Hey Jasmine, how’re you doing?” Too corny.
“That Hideki’s such as asshole, huh?” No swearing in front of a lady – Jasmine might think him uncouth.
“So … how’s your project coming along?” Boring – does he really want to talk shop with Jasmine?

Every night, he whittles away potential opening lines until he is left with what he really wants to say: “Jasmine, this is going to sound really corny, but you’re the most unique individual I’ve ever seen. From the second I saw you, you’ve had me trapped. You’re so different; your attitude grabbed me from the get-go. I can’t even put into words how I feel about you because there’s no more me: all there is left of me, in me, is you. And I finally understand what those silly lyrics meant because I am crazy about you, for you.”

Then what? Keep his fingers crossed that she would take it in a good way, or – better still – tells him she is attracted to him too? Jonathan stares up at the ceiling and exhales a frustrated breath. It is a long while before he falls asleep.

The next morning proves to be a rainy one, all thunder rumbling, dark clouds and merciless pelts of cold rain. Under the leaky shelter of the bus stop opposite the school, Jonathan mutters a silent curse at the dark skies as he opens his umbrella. Just then, someone catches his attention: at the other end of the bus stop stands Jasmine looking damp and miserable and frustrated. She glances at her watch every other second then glumly up at the torrential rain, chewing on her lower lip.

Jonathan freezes, torn, gazing sideway at Jasmine for a long while until a crowded bus wheezes to a stop at the bus stop and disgorges its passengers, most of whom are students who sulkily throw their portfolio carriers or schoolbags over their heads and make a mad dash across the road to school.

Finally straightening his shoulders, Jonathan starts purposefully towards Jasmine … but at the very last possible moment, turns away, opens his umbrella and sprints across the road, neither caring nor realizing he is almost run over by a vehicle if not for the driver’s quick reflexes that send tires squealing on the wet tarmac.

but if i told You,
i won’t be your secret admirer any longer
will i?

As he shakes out his umbrella under the shelter of the school, his gaze still remains on Jasmine who is sniffling unhappily across the road.

“Excuse me,” a female voice interjects beside him. Jonathan turns and glances at the girl standing next to him. She smiles hopefully at him. “My girlfriend is stranded at the bus stop across the road; can I borrow your umbrella please? It won’t take more than a couple of minutes.”

Jonathan shrugs and gives the girl a slight smile, holding his umbrella out to her. “You can have it; I’ve no use for it anyway.”

He casts one last look at Jasmine and turns away, making his way to class.

i am Your secret Admirer
You don’t know me