[Clayrin Aisfine Ezz]
Yvette and I were in the library, buried in our review for the upcoming examinations. Our research defense was just around the corner, and the grind was real—all for the sacred number we all chase: academic grades. The teachers were too busy to hold classes, leaving us with long vacant hours.
Can’t really blame them—it’s almost November. Semester break is near, and so is my long-awaited anime marathon.
We sat side by side, flipping through pages of our Applied Social Science book—one of the densest subjects in Grade 12, both in content and memorization.
No one in class asked where I went when I left with Yvette earlier. They must still be hung up on that stupid photo. As if being seen with a guy made me impure or something.
I don’t get it. This twisted popularity system—they glorify you one second, then condemn you the next. They gather around you, pry into your life, ask questions that aren't theirs to ask.
Even the boys have backed off. Some stare at me with disgust, while others—those soft idiots—look crushed when I meet their eyes. As if I owe them something.
My thoughts were abruptly shaken when Yvette smacked me with her notebook.
“Stop zoning out,” she scolded, clearly annoyed.
I bit the end of my pen. “I’m not thinking about that stupid issue.”
I shut my book and slouched over the table, resting my cheek against my folded arms. I looked at her.
Her brows were furrowed, and her lips twitched indecisively—left or right, not sure where to land.
“Rin, who were you with at the market—between the two of them?”
> Nosy, are we?<
“So your name is Marites now?” I teased.
She pouted.
I laughed at her face. “I’m kidding. It was Jow. Who else? You think it was Lyndon? He’s glued to Maryam. Don’t you know they’re a thing?”
Her jaw dropped. She held her head, staring into space, then quickly turned back to me.
“They’re a couple?!”
Her voice echoed across the room—too loudly.
A balled-up newspaper hit her square on the head.
We turned toward the source: the librarian stood firm behind the counter, glaring.
Students glanced up from their books, annoyed.
“Observe silence, you lady there!” the librarian barked.
“Strike!” I whispered with a smirk.
Yvette turned crimson and shrank into her seat.
“That librarian was once a baseball player. Nicknamed ‘Eagle Pitcher.’ She’s got a wicked throw, too. She once whacked Jovenyl on the shoulder with a rolled-up newspaper just because she loudly told me how her husband Jow hugged her tight from behind.”
Yvette sniffled. “I was just shocked, that’s all…”
“You can report her to the guidance office, you know.”
She shook her head vigorously. “No way…”
“Then stop yelling,” I advised.
She nodded obediently.
I reopened my book and resumed reading.
“Rin… are you really not bothered by the issue?”
I shrugged. “Why would I be?”
She scratched her eyebrow, then ruffled her own hair.
> She reminds me of that monkey with King Kai from Dragon Ball… nostalgic.<
“Yvette, I don’t get why people meddle in things that aren’t their business.”
“Because they’re gossipers. Maybe also because social standings form in this university—it gives people sources of inspiration and standards to look up to.”
“But I’m not normal… Is my laughter, my playfulness, really worthy of this so-called popularity?”
“Well, you’ve got a beautiful face. And guys… they probably wouldn’t hurt you physically. You’re kind. Sometimes you say annoying things, but you’re honest. You’re open but careful.”
I paused, then stifled a laugh behind my hand.
Didn’t want to be the librarian’s next target.
> Inhale. Exhale.<
“There’s one guy who can hurt me though… He’s no gentleman. He’ll hurt you if you hurt him.”
“Jow again?”
I stuck my tongue out and nodded.
Yvette gave me a teasing, devilish grin. “Him again, huh…”
I squinted at her. “Don’t get the wrong idea. I swear, I’ll throw you in the river.”
She just laughed and patted my shoulder—until another newspaper missile hit her square in the head. The librarian kicked her out.
---
Lunch time.
Yvette and I had just survived the chaotic canteen queue. Now we were walking down the Grade 12 HUMSS floor hallway, heading back to our classroom to eat.
As we passed Jow’s classroom, Nova stepped out.
She waved at me with a smile.
Yvette clutched my arm. Her hand trembled.
> What’s up with her and Nova? Did she hear something weird?<
Nova stopped in front of us.
“Lunch?” she asked.
“Yeah. Wanna eat with us?”
She shook her head. “I’m looking for Lean May and Jow. They’ve been missing since this morning—supposed to be for our practical research.”
“They might be together,” I suggested.
Nova narrowed her eyes. Her stare sliced through my words like she couldn’t decide whether to believe them or dismiss them entirely.
She fell quiet for a moment.
Then she spoke again. “Clay… do you have free time to go out?”
“Next weekend’s booked. Jovenyl already called dibs.”
She shut her eyes, sighed deeply. “I see. Then I’ll just message you on Facebook. I’ll go ahead.”
“O-okay,” I called out as she walked away.
> What’s with her lately?<
“Clay…” Yvette’s voice quivered. “I saw Jow earlier, heading upstairs before we went to the library. Probably to the rooftop.”
“That was a while ago. He’s probably gone by now. Nova will find them. Let’s eat—I’m starving.”
We resumed walking toward our room.
---
We ate in silence.
Yvette stood behind me, brushing my hair with calm strokes.
“Clay… your hair’s always so smooth.”
“Cream Silk, baby,” I bragged. “You know—”
I didn’t get to finish.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
I grabbed it, checked the screen.
A message on Facebook.
From Nova.
> Clay 😤😤😤 come to the rooftop quick 😏
> I found Jow and Lean May—both unconscious. And Jow… he’s crying blood. Even though he’s knocked out, he keeps crying blood. It’s disgusting but I held it in. Bring lots of water before you come. Thanks.
The phone slipped from my hand.
“Clay?” Yvette called out, concerned.
I jumped to my feet. “Sorry, Yvette. I have to go. Watch my bag.”
I grabbed my phone, bolted out the door, rushed downstairs and out of the building.
At the canteen, I bought two bottles of mineral water, asked for ice, and threw in fifty pesos worth of cheese bread.
I ran faster back to the building, dashed up the stairs, and burst through the rooftop door.
There, I saw Nova and Jow—seated on separate benches. A girl’s head rested on Nova’s lap.
It was Lean May.
Unconscious.
To be continued.