Elementary, second grade: that time, I just needed someone to make goo-goo eyes on. It was the earliest manifestation of peer pressure: to have a crush like everyone else. It got to a point where I can’t squeeze myself into their conversations anymore because I had no one to fawn about. I wished we could have just gotten back to playing Chinese garter and collecting stickers.
But whatever. All I had to do was spot the least gross boy anyway. I scanned the area as I waited for our school bus.
“Andreaaaa!” A classmate snapped me out of my thoughts.
“Ka(y)Nino(y) ‘tong pencil na ‘to?” He asked with a smirk. Like he expected me to fall into the clutches of his lame joke.
I just stared at him. That joke was older than our teacher’s mole. The hair growing from it was white. Maybe it had been alive even before our teacher.
“’Wag! ‘Wag mong sagutin! Kay Ninoy yan!” His friend laughed, running towards us.
And that person who humoured him- that was the least gross boy in class. We very rarely spoke to each other even though we’ve been classmates since kindergarten.
I snorted off his saviour act. I didn’t need saving, Stupid.
Actually, he’s not stupid.
At the end of every quarter I could only watch as our teacher wrote his name on either Top 2 or 3. One time he even got to #1.
I also can’t accuse him of being bad-looking and bad-natured.
I thought this as I watched him on his first day of being a sacristan at our parish church.
“And so he is, after all, Mr. Least Gross Boy in Class.” I concluded as our school bus parked in front of his gate one day.
The evening of that day, I remember it like the day I found out that I shouldn’t touch the tip of a glue gun when it’s plugged. I had nothing better to do so I played with the washing machine bubbles and watched my mom do the laundry.
“Andrea, wala ka bang assignment?” My mom asked suspiciously.
“Walaaaa.” I answered as I dumped a handful of bubbles on my head.
She probably would have inquired about it further but the knocks on our door demanded immediate attention. My mom went to answer it and I followed her to the door to see my dad.
But standing there, on our threshold, was not Dad.
It was the only other male specie I acknowledged aside from my relatives. And my G.I. Joe action figure.
It was the Boy.
He basked under the full glory of the moonlit night as I died 3 times under the light of our unflattering light bulb.
I flinched at the sight of him and, as I did, a clump of washing machine froth floated before my eyes. My eyelids flew so high it went inside my skull. I remembered the dump of bubbles on my head. And the other bubbles all over me.
I mouthed a “NOOOOoooo” in slow motion as I tried to catch the emancipated bubble.
But I failed and the froth landed on our floor with a resounding splat. Along with my dignity.
Suddenly I couldn’t understand what was happening. As if someone pulled the plug off my brain.
That’s why I totally didn’t notice that his mom was there too. She was looking at me. She was opening her mouth repeatedly.
Oh I see, she’s talking.
What.
What was she saying??
“BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH ASSIGNMENT BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH READING.”
The words assignment and reading were enough to run my feet on auto pilot to my bag.
(Translation: Andrea, pahiram naman ng assignment notebook mo, please? Hindi kasi na-kopya ni ** yung assignment ninyo sa Reading.)
I robotically took the notebook from my bag and handed it to his mother. I watched behind her as she opened my notebook:
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Reading
Assignment # N
The
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
THE. Yes, THE.
My crush came all the way to our house for THE.
“Ha-ha. At least ikaw may nasulat. Si ** wala talaga e. Ha-haaa...” His mother said.
...
Due to selective amnesia, I can’t remember anything else after that.
All I remember is, I eventually got into the habit of meticulously copying every single assignment in perfect handwriting.
But needless to say, I’ve blown my chances.
-The End-
0 comments:
Post a Comment