Chapter 1

June 13, 2006. I knew there was something creepy about that date. I mean, starting the year in school, my very first in college... on June 13. Why didn't we just start the week after? Besides, I wasn't ready yet. Aboard the Tayuman-Lardizabal jeepney, I wasn't my best at all. My fingers will soon get cut-off from my biting I tell you - a sort of avoiding to talk, or simply just being as nervous as hell. Bad habits tend to stay.

I come from Laguna, so I had to rise up so darn early just to be in time for almost everything. I remember I had to literally cry in front of the registrar person because I arrived 11:58 for my assessment. She was very kind though. She smiled at me, gave me the form, and told me to get back after lunch. Sometimes, crying won't get you anywhere anymore. I mean really.

I almost cried again just so the driver of the jeepney I'm riding will quit talking to a cigarette vendor. In the middle of Governor Forbes! I tell you. These people don't care if you get late on your first day of classes and all, the thirteenth of the month, my first day in college. It's a good thing an old lady reminded him by saying that we are running late and all. Well, to that effect. Old people have a nice way of telling you that you are a sicko. I mean, really. That's the way with my grandmother also. I usually get what she is talking about ten minutes and two hours after.

The jeep stopped right in front of the gate of UST. Well one of those gates, I should say - there's too many of them. I was really in a hurry to get down and all - but there are a lot of students trying to get down also. And I was sitting at the innermost space whatever - the one nearest to the driver. I always do that to avoid shouting "Para" or "Ma, bayad o".

My father also told me to sit behind the driver because when accidents happen, drivers tend to "save" himself in the process - a sort of defense mechanism that is automatic and all. So it is best if you are in the sort of safety area.

Anyways, as I was going down - I was the last in line - the driver kept on saying "Pakibilisan. Pakibilisan. Make it faster. Make it faster" And it really killed me. I mean, we waited for him to finish exchanging jokes with the vendor a while ago, didn't we? And there he was, hurrying us.

"Miss, don't forget your hanky. Miss, is this yours?"

I glanced a bit and noticed a homely boy in shorts, smiling at me, waving a white hanky. I hurried down the jeep. And did not get the hanky.

I was already I front of the Hospital when I realized it was indeed my hanky. A zooming car went past us (students walking on the pathway towards our respective colleges) with all its fumes and carbon. Free make-up by the way. I reached for my pocket and you know that feeling - mild panic. Something that's supposed to be there wasn't there anymore. I meant the hanky, of course.

My first subject would run from 7-8 that day. Algebra, of all things under the sun. My most hated subject back in high. I mean, why do they have to...to have Alg? My teacher, who is also a good friend of us, made it a little lighter with his smiles, and his jokes and friendliness. But at the end of the day, it's still the same old Algebra, and it's stupid world of x's and y's. I mean, who in this planet needs it anyway? Perhaps, you need it to compute your interests and discounts for your business and all, so that you'll know how much you're earning - or losing, for that matter. But I don't really see the point of ignoring the fact that we already have computers and calculators. So, why complicate the already complicated, terrorist-infested world of ours with Algebra and those Mathematicos?

On my way up, I still kept on biting my nails - darn bastard. I should get it off my system. I am really so nervous, I tell you. 313. That's our room. The number again 13 again. It's really stupid, I tell you. When you don't want to see somebody or something, it comes up to your face and all. Just like when you are typing an almost finished chapter and your half-witted cousin would go near you and accidentally trip over some important jocks and your XP would go blank. I wouldn't be surprised if a black cat suddenly jumps over my face...even talk to me, for crying out loud.

There are still a few people in our room when I came. There are already groups on corners of the room. One boy was drawing something on the board. A dark sunglass is hanging over his polo's back. That bastard, probably he's just trying to show off. Another boy is reading a book. Perhaps, he's also trying to look good and all. I sat at the back row. A girl who had pretty make-up, sat in front of me kept on combing her hair. I would have kicked her behind because some of the water was sprinkling on me.

Some minutes passed. And a good-natured fellow sat beside me. He was wearing a yellow short-sleeved polo. Well, it's just the start of classes - I noticed some students are still in civilian. I did not look up though. He asked me about the subject - whether it was Math 101 or something. I told him it was Algebra, but remained stoned, back there. He kept on talking about traffic and UST...UST...like he was stoned or something. Possibly some chap from the province, I said to myself. I would've asked him about his "uniform"... but he stood up. In front.

"I am your teacher. Good morning."

Sheet... Jesus...if you ever had a day. I kept reviewing what I did back when he was sitting beside me and all. Who would think that he was the teacher? God they should give violation slips also to teachers who pretend they are students...and not wear an employee ID and uniform.

I stood up, and some other girls in front row. I heard a group of girls giggled.

"Dummy", one of them said.