A story on the Integumentary System

by Mary Grace P. Rubido

            Everything is perfect and fine when I’m with him. I feel like he is my second big brother. I don’t feel any awkwardness unlike when I’m with other guys I know. Why? I don’t know either. But, maybe because he acts like my real brother does. He would cheer me up when I’m down, carry when I’m sick, and when I got wounded even a little bit, like just a scratch in my outer most layer of skin, the epidermis, almost until my stratum basale, he would scold me and say, “Why are you such a child? Can’t you take care of yourself?” See! He is exaggerating things so much. But, that’s why I like him.

            I like him just the way he is. He is so comfortable to be with. I can say that he is my first best guy friend in my life. Oh! I also forgot, he is also protective. Just like when we both went home and rode an LRT train, we were in such a hurry because it is heavily raining outside. He is worried that EDSA might be flooded by now. So, we got in the area wherein it is crowded and two more people and the additional two more people made it like sardines in a can. The door of the train closed. We were at the side close to the pole of the seats and the door opposite to the one that opens. I am leaning with my back at the door and he is facing towards me. We were talking cheerfully and laughing at the same time. I wipe the sweat produced by my sudoriferous glands. But, it is not from my eccrine gland but from my apocrine gland. It is due to the stress of getting in a train immediately. When the next station came, there were three people who got in the train. They were pushing the people in front that made the people inside to compress and have a little space for them. Thinking of the situation, I suddenly notice our position. We are so close to each other.

            He had his arms placed just in the level of my head. His face is near to me too and he said, “You okay? Sorry.” I replied, “No. It’s okay.” I lowered my head. Now I can almost hear his heartbeat. I feel like the train suddenly became slow. I can feel the palms of my hand and the solex of my feet becomes sweaty. And my heart is beating abnormally.

            “Hah… hah…”, he breathes heavily.

            I can feel his breath upon the back of my neck. My hair root plexuses reacted to it and send signals that caused my arrector pili muscles to contract and make a blood rush in my face and gave me some goose bumps. I can’t stay in this position longer. So, I decided to turn around and face the door instead. It is now in Gil Puyat station.

            One more station to go.

            When suddenly he said, “Hey, your hair is messed up.” Then, he fixed my hair. His fingertips touched my hair, and it caused my arrector pili muscles to contract again.

            “Ahh… I-it’s ok. I’ll just fix it myself.” I take a hold of my hair. And I can feel his breath not on my neck but at the back of my otic. I can’t take it anymore. I feel like I am white as the person with albinism. At last, we are at the EDSA station where we got off the train.