Chapter 1 – Last Chance (Jin)

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"Shot down."

As expected.

"Again?"

"Yeah."

"For how many times already?"

My middle finger slid through the back of my notebook downward, my eyes following the tip to count the recipients listed down.

"About..." I cringed. "..eleven."

With that, I slammed my head on the table, the pair's grunts over the earthquake I had caused falling on deaf ears.

"Sucks to be you, man." This guy, I swear...

I lifted my head slightly, just enough to glare at Alex's carefree expression while he watched my best friend focusing so hard on a video game on her mobile phone.

"Yeah..." I pressed my cheek on the page of my notebook. "I can understand their reasons, though, you know? They can't help it."

He hummed, "That's true. College is giving everyone a hard time."

"Yeah, so I can understand why they don't have enough time to spare to teach a poor and failing classmate free of charge. Of course, they'd prefer resting or relaxing with their friends or hobbies during their leisure time instead of dealing with someone else. Maybe if it's their friend, they would help, though."

"Pretty sure they would."

Darting my eyes somewhere else other than the loving gaze Alexis had for my best friend that was starting to give me a stomachache, there were only the empty picnic tables rained down by leaves. Then there were students doing extracurricular activities occupying the open fields not shaded by the trees.

If only I had enough time to even spend on clubs and organizations... I would use that time to sleep because that's something I don't get enough of.

At least my family doesn't notice how often I sneak a textbook or two under the blankets in the middle of the night just to ensure specific passages in the history of the Philippines won't slip my mind.

"Uh-huh. That's why I can understand why all of them would shoot me down, you know? I can understand...." An exasperated sound came out of me, and that sure got Alex's attention with that smug snort that my ears didn't want to welcome.

"Yes, I know, Jin. I know you understand, but your face is too full of disappointment. It's starting to hurt just looking at your face."

"Rianne!" I straightened my back and pointed at my best friend. "Get your boyfriend away from me, will you?"

"I'm busy," Rianne answered without sparing a glance.

Alex burst out laughing, and I couldn't suppress another exasperated sigh.

"You're supposed to be my best friend, Rianne."

With a raised brow, Alex zoomed his face close to mine, "Dude, I'm also your best friend."

"Is that so? Who are you again? Mister..." The student ID that hung over his neck bumped my raised hand. "..Mister Alexis Manalo. I am not an Information Technology student, so how would I know anyone who takes that program?"

He pointed at Rianne, "Hey! Rianne's an IT student like me too!"

"Oh, really."

"Rianne, your best friend is bullying your boyfriend!"

Rianne's phone beeped with that tiresome victory sequence noise I've grown to dislike with the number of times it lingers in my head whenever she's around.

She turned her phone off and glanced at us, "You two are best friends too."

Alex immediately made inaudible noises along with me, both of us spouting nothing but constant denial.

Maybe if I had a friend who was interested in literature or history, then asking for help with this subject would be less complicated. Instead, I have these two childhood sweethearts who were interested in technology and gaming far longer than they've made me their middle man and third wheel.

When Alex and I decided to stop after receiving judgmental eyes from the passersby and a side-eye from a professor that walked by, we sat back from our nonsensical yelling.

"So... you've contacted everyone you could who takes that subject, too, right?" Alex started with an arm snaking around Rianne's shoulders.

God, please take these two to church already and tell them to stop giving me goosebumps.

I blinked away to save my sanity from any further cringe-worthy sight.

"There is... one person.."

Looking through the page with names again, a pencil encircled one name instead of crossed out.

"Shane Halili." I nearly jumped when Alex teleported beside me and read the name. "I've heard of her. She's a literature major who's also an all-rounder volleyball player and the secretary of the student publication org. I still remember when Rianne was interviewed by them last year."

Rolling my eyes, I closed my notebook and rested my chin on an open palm. Even without meeting any of their gazes that were probably on me, it's not hard to tell they're probably wondering why I avoided this person.

First of all, she's the top of our class in this subject alone. And with how her name is easily recognized, like by Alex just now, who knows how well she does in everything else to get such a good reputation?

"Jin." I pressed my nails against my palm under the table. "Is there... something wrong with asking for her help?"

I squinted and turned my head back at them.

"She's too good. If the ones under her in this subject rejected tutoring someone like me who's nothing but a stranger to them, what more, an exceptional student who does well in every field she's in," I should stop talking, "right? She'd shot me down without much of a glimpse."

"We're not sure about that." Rianne stood up and sat beside me. "You wouldn't lose anything if you tried, right?"

I rolled my eyes, "As Alex said, she's part of this and that, and tops her classes, probably, so, what does that mean, hm?" My mouth is moving too fast—I should stop talking, "She's tired. She's definitely exhausted after her practices or meetings. So, how would she have time to tutor me?"

Before any more words followed up, highlighting my fear and insecurities and bearing them in broad daylight, I successfully got myself to stop talking.

I bit my lips and turned my face away from my friends, who only inched closer to me.

You could just study harder, then. I'd really like it if any of my friends would just say that straight to my face, but all they did was sit on either side of me and say nothing.

I huffed, and with a softer and slower voice, I spoke again. "It's not easy to constantly try to ask for help and get shot down for it. But what am I supposed to do?" It's the only way I could pass this subject and get a scholarship. Then, with that, I could lessen all the trouble I'm causing just because of a childhood dream.

Aren't you getting tired of this phase of mine? I'd really appreciate it if I could blurt out that question at these two every time something like this happens.

"Okay." Rianne stood up. "Give it a chance to see if she may be willing. Who knows, she might have some time to spare." I doubt it.

"We'll help you figure things out, alright? But for now, she's your best bet." Only if she doesn't mind dealing with another person's studies. "Though, honestly, bro... You're doing great with your other subjects, but why are you failing this one?"

With a quick wipe under my eyes, I glared at Alex.

"I like learning about the past—the history of countries and things, Alex. While literature or written works with an art form is quite something, it's still not my forte!"

He tilted his face, "Isn't that like.. the same thing?"

"God! You annoy me so much-" I wiped a hand on my face, which helped regulate my voice, at least. "Literature and history are both disciplines of social studies and humanities, but not the same thing, you nerd!"

The pure confusion on his face just pissed me off even more.

"Anyway, it's almost time for afternoon classes." Thanks for making sure no more words came out of Alex, Rianne. "Jin, we'll see you later."

I waved them goodbye and headed in the other direction, the faces of all my family members flashing to my mind briefly.

That's right. It's unlike me to lose hope.

If Shane Halili decides it's bothersome to help a stranger with his failing grades, I'll figure something out. After all, it can't be helped—we all have only ourselves to rely on the most in this stage.

So, I'll ask her today.

Well, if I could just find her.

Right after the only subject I shared with her—which was also the subject I was getting low marks in—she vanished!

After one more class, I rushed outside and looked all over the humanities department, but to no avail. Maybe she had volleyball practice? Ah, fudge, which field do the volleyball players practice again?

When I got there, which I assume had taken me more time than energy, they were already cleaning up and heading to the lockers.

I reached them, somehow, and I hoped my panting didn't make it too evident that these girls could probably beat me up with the level of my athleticism.

"Excuse me!" Only the coach stopped, and she waved her hand at the players, maybe to signal them to go back ahead.

"What is it?"

"Um.." With one final heave, I straightened up. "Is.. is Miss Halili.. ah.." It's no use—I need to catch my breath more.

"Oh, you're looking for Shane?" I nodded, my fingers gripping tightly on the side of my shirt. "She wasn't at today's practice."

What?

"I heard the student publication had a meeting that started nearly an hour ago. I'm not sure you can catch her there, but it might not be too late."

I bowed my head, "Thank you very much!"

When my feet had taken more than three steps away, I froze and faced the coach's confused gaze.

"Um.. d-do you happen to know which building and room the student publication meets in...?"

This must've been the fastest I've run throughout my college life. Which isn't that long, considering I only started as a sophomore two months ago.

But the semi-sharp wind against my cheeks, my feet slipping a couple of times on the shining tiled staircases, my legs almost splitting, and the sweat that streamed from my nape down to trace my back had made this moment feel like an intense turning point in my life.

Unfortunately, God didn't seem to have that same plan for me.

"Shane? She had already left a while ago. Said she still has to catch up on something. A friend's birthday, was it?" The guy in round spectacles turned to another guy combing his hair with gel facing a mirror on the desk.

His eyes were focused on styling his hair, but he still answered a yes.

My legs trembled, so I leaned against the doorframe to hide the exhaustion and to avoid stumbling. But can they blame me if I pass out right now? I sprinted to the third floor and still got lost around the connected departments. And yet...

With a sigh of defeat, I mumbled a thank you and avoided making eye contact with any of them.

How pathetic.

"You could try adding her on social media." My feet, about to take a step away, paused in midair.

The guy with the glasses stood up, "Ah, that's right. If you have some urgent business with her, you can reach her easily on FB. She's pretty active there, especially during nighttime."

"She'll have to check the latest stuff we discussed today in the meeting too." The guy styling his hair added, finishing up his swept hair.

FB? Wasn't that... the app Alex and Rianne forced me to install on my borrowed phone just so the three of us could have a means of communicating as a group?

"Here," The guy in spectacles stretched his phone's screen in front of me, a familiar application interface displayed in a different profile. "She has her friend requests on so you can add her, and this is her profile picture on the site."

I pursed my lips and breathed in deeply, eyes glued to the name on the screen as if it'd record itself in my brain so I won't forget.

Shane S. Halili.

I was pretty desperate today, wasn't I? My legs could barely keep me standing without somewhere to lean on, and my mind almost spiraled into insanity and tension the entire time I looked for her.

At some point, it all seemed pointless, and fear had left a trace at the back of my head, but I pushed it away all because of how badly I wanted to understand this subject too. Not just to pass it but to really get it. It's part of history, after all.

I took my phone out of my backpack's pocket.

If by any chance, she welcomes the idea of tutoring someone who could only return small favors for any reason, then all of this might feel a little less pointless and a waste of time.

This is my last chance.

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A/N:

Stress in the pronunciation of the surnames mentioned here is capitalized:

maNAlo
haLIli