To Jha -- hey watty bestie! i wrote another story! hahaha :)

***

As a college freshman at a state university in Western Mindanao, I should have been reviewing my lessons for Philo 103 for a possible recitation that our professor would often give us. The first time I attended his class he said something like: "What makes a chalk a chalk?" And I went something like: "Sir, the chalkiness of the chalk..."

Yeah well, I heard our professor was full of that kind of question and they said it was difficult to pass his subject. But I was a Nursing student, and Philo 103 did not belong in my major subjects. So I was not that worried to pass or fail the professor's philosophical question.

I was more worried as to who this secret admirer was. I was worried for his life, truth be told. I mean, what if the curse was really true? But like my earlier resolution, I needed to find out first if the curse was indeed for real.

And so I dragged my fellow nursing classmate-slash-best friend-slash-confidante, Mer, to accompany me "secret admirer" hunting. Ryan was a Biology major student and he was still having his class. So it was just Mer and me.

How should I start describing Mer? Mer was someone you would give all your attention to even if you didn't want to. She was loud, a bit obnoxious sometimes, but she was a Head Turner. A Head Turner was defined as someone who possessed great beauty and never ran out of admirers. Most often, when a Head Turner walked past by you, heads would turn. Head Turner.

So yeah, Mer was pretty. Mer was gorgeous. Mer was perfect. And I sometimes envy her. Was I a bad friend for feeling that way? But Mer and I were best friends since high school and I love her. So pretty or not pretty, Mer was a very good friend. And she was so clueless that she was a Head Turner.

"I think it could be Luke," she stated with conviction. We were both sitting on the stone bench that was facing the several snack stores, observing the passers-by while trying to scout for any suspicious behaviors from potential 'secret admirer' candidate. "He is definitely checking you out."

I cast a quick glance over where Luke Gregorio was standing. He was a fellow nursing student, only he was in his junior. "No. He is not checking me out. He is checking you out." See what I mean? Mer's totally clueless.

"Oh you think so? I mean, it would be nice to go out with a junior for a change. All those fellow freshmen guys are so immature, you know? But I heard that juniors are busy with all their duty in the hospital and stuff. I also heard that Luke is trying to maintain his grades so he could apply for Med School."

"And you know all of these because?"

"Because I listen to gossips. And gossips are half true, you know? Why wouldn't you even consider that he could be checking you out? "

I rolled my eyes. "Are we having this conversation again Mer? He is checking you out because you're pretty. He is not checking me out because I am not pretty."

"But you are an awesome girl!"

"Yes, yes. You are required to say that --you're my best friend."

"Why are you always like this? Why do you always think that you're not, you know, pretty?"

I paused for a moment to that question. Both Mer and I stand five feet and four inches tall, the average height for any Filipina I guess. We both have the same long black hair past our shoulders, which I often tie into a loose bun (kinda like I-had-no-time-to-comb-my-hair loose bun) while Mer just let it loose. But Mer was on the thin side, more of fit than thin actually. I, however, spent most of my growing up years inside the kitchen with my mother while she poured her heart out when she was in one of those post break-up hysterias. She cooked to express her emotions, I ended up eating her creations. I carried a few extra pounds since then.

"You know I have issues with my weight," I told her.

"But those are just baby fats!"

"No they're not. Their regular fats. They are flabby, hideous, excess fatty deposits around my waist and hips."

"You are not even that, you know, big. You're just a bit chubby. And chubby is the new cute."

I couldn't help but laugh at her statement. What would I do without Mer to make me feel better about myself? "Like teddy bear cute?"

"Like puppy cute. So anyway," she suddenly said, obviously trying to change the subject, "tell me again how you received that note from 'Mystery Man' and do not leave any details out."

"There isn't really much to tell, Mer. I was at the library that time, I left my bag and text books at the table then went to pick some books in the shelves. When I came back, I found the note stuck between the pages of my Sociology book."

"And do tell me what the note says again?"

"You already know what it says." I told her, but she only gave me a pointed look so I said, "Fine. 'Your face is the moon that shines my lonely night'."

"Aha! A guy with a penchant for words."

"That wasn't even a good one! I could do better than that."

"Stop complaining. Most guys suck at poetry --they think it's not manly enough. But at least our Mystery Man gave it a try."

"Why are we even calling him Mystery Man? It's like as if he's one of those superhero wannabes in that Ben Stiller movie."

"Because Mystery Man sounds more mysterious than Secret Admirer."

"Wow, Mer. That was so deep."

"Oh shut up," her reply to my sarcasm. "I'm trying to help you out here. So tell me again, when you received that note, any special events prior to that? Like you were seen on TV, you won the lottery, your Wattpad story got published... things like that."

Here we go again. Mer already knew what happened. She was there with me. "Before I received the note, there was this school concert that you and I attended one evening and the band's vocalist just suddenly grabbed me and pulled me to go on stage and we both started singing."

"You forgot to mention the part where you sang incredibly that all people were awed with how beautiful your voice was."

I blush a little. Most people had no idea I could sing. Even Mer. Only Ryan knew since we had known each other since we were both foetuses inside our mothers' womb. My mom and his mom were best friends as well, if you must know.

"And so," Mer continued, "after that spectacular show of talent, what happened next?"

"The band's guitarist, Luke, the very same Luke who was checking you out earlier, asked me if I could join in one of their gigs."

"There! That's him --Luke Gregorio is our Mystery Man."

"In as much as how I really admire the power of your deductions, I'm afraid you are wrong on that account. You forgot the part where Luke was salivating over you a while ago."

"Well, I think it could still be Luke. You lucky girl, you."

It was fifteen minutes before our class would start, so we decided to head to the Liberal Arts building for our next class. Cutting across the open field to get to our class would save us time rather than going around it. So we decided to do just that, trying as much as possible to give several spaces between us and a couple of boys playing soccer. They were not really playing soccer; they were more like just kicking the ball and passing it around.

But still, I realized later with absolute regret, your mortal enemy could turn an ordinary soccer ball in to a terrifying, deadly weapon of mass destruction. In my case, Mark Cruz, college sophomore, decided to use the ball to knock my head off as he kicked the ball and sent it hurling towards us --towards me.

Fortunately for me, reflexed kicked in and I was able to push Mer out of the way while I made a jump to the side, avoiding the ball to make intimate contact with my face.

"Sorry about that," Mark shouted, jogging towards us, not sounding sorry at all. "My bad."

"You just tried to kill me!" I accused. Of course, seniority wise speaking, I should pay him a little respect. But that respect I had for him had already gone down the drain since, you know, fifth grade. And I thought I would never see him since he graduated high school. But lo, and behold. Small world.

"Sorry, Dumbo. Didn't see you there." He looked at me for a moment as if seeing me for the first time. "Hey, there's something different about you. You look good. Have you lost weight?"

Oh, wow. This was the first time he said something nice to me since, well, this was the first time he said something nice to me. Period. "You think so?" I couldn't help it.

"No. I was just kidding. Can't you recognize a joke when it's being made?" he said then he started laughing and hugging his middle and stomping his foot as if he just made the most hilarious of jokes ever in the entire history. He grabbed the ball behind us, stared at me from head to foot and started chuckling to himself again before he jogged and joined his comrades.

"Is that who I think it is?" Mer asked a couple of seconds later, eyeing Mark with curiosity, her eyes dissecting him the way you would dissect a frog during Biology class to study its innards. I could really tell Mer was trying to analyze and interpret Mark's earlier display of obnoxiousness.

I tugged her wrist so we could walk out of the field. "Yes. Someone who I want to bury alive."

"Remind me again why he calls you Dumbo."

"You know? Dumbo, the elephant with big ears? I was on my heaviest when I was in fifth grade, so he called me Dumbo because my weight resembled that of an elephant. And as per him, I was fat like an elephant."

"That's so juvenile of him. And elephants are not fat --they are huge, but not fat. I still don't get his analogy."

I could not help but giggle. "Yeah well, he's a jock by the way. And you know what they say about jocks."

Mer twisted her neck and tried to study the object of our discussion from a far. "Well, his cute butt compensates for the lack of his brain. So I guess life is just fair."