TBBM VII. What Red Likes

June was the kick-off month for the rainy season. I walked with a hickey behind me. And, bad as each of them were, the combination made my life even more difficult that it already was.

It usually rained minutes before I departed home.

"In the name of my hickey, you will stop," I murmured by the door as I caressed my birthmark.

"Jopet!" my mother scorned. "What have you been doing, touching your bum like that?"

"I'm just... trying to stop the rain, Mother."

I still hadn't brought a new umbrella. I could afford one but I wanted the pretty variant which was priced at about six times more than its counterpart in a local bargain shop. Something in me liked things more difficult to achieve but were long-lasting: I fancied finding forever in things as in love.

I wore my hoody before putting on the red-brown plastic-type coat I picked up temporarily from the bargain store. Since it could get very wet, soon as I reached our building, I would hang it at the facilitymen's quarters until it dried.

"You know, I really appreciate you," I thanked Arthur, one of the facilitymen.

It was specially challenging coming to class whenever it rained. People usually arrived late. Especially me. In fact, if the professors assigned points to being late, I would have achieved the gold standard. I wondered if that would ever be a thing, I wanted to use my points to get a laptop.

The class was a mess when I opened the door. They divided themselves into their usual groups. I wasn't classmates with James on Wednesdays and Fridays so I was alone. It felt odd entering the room without the usual eyeroll from Angie; what was even odder, only Cecie and Phao were there. Angie was a rich brat, but she didn't normally take off from class.

In the absence of the PAC-leader, Cecie and Phao seemed to be busying themselves bizarrely over something. Many of the girls in the class joined them too: even Cliffy and Mar.

"What's going on?" I asked Betty as I took the seat at the back.

"Mhmm..." she shook her head. She was rather conservative. "They're losing themselves looking at Red's profile."

"Profile?"

"I don't know really. Angie took something from the Registrar's. They made several copies and they rushed in here after, all ecstatic."

"I see."

"Until the Reformation office summoned Angie. When she left, there was that two and the other girls crowding over Red's file."

Good looks was really key to many things. At first I thought he was going to be an outcast. Maybe, I wrongly projected myself onto him, without considering his physique, at least. How could anyone actually like somebody like him, though? He was very rude. I wondered deeply in my head.

Similarly, I wondered where he was. That contemptuously airy rich boy must be here with us now. But why would I bother? It wasn't like he really intended to be here on purpose. He was just tripping. Yet he volunteered himself to be the Class President.

"The rich must really have their peculiar ways," I sighed.

As they mobbed over Red's papers, one of it fell on the ground near me. It wasn't like I took particular interest but I picked it up when no one was looking.

The first thing you'd see when reading a document from the top left going to the right, on a registration form, was one's name. So, it came at ease to find my eyes steadied on the first entry which said, FULL NAME and a colon after it.

Then a bolt of fear climbed up my spine like thunder on an eery night.

Red Romeo McIntyre.

It read.

Dear Saint,

It was, in a manner, peaceful without Boasty. Yeah, I realised I made him a name. I hope he'd never come back. Same with the PAC girls. Thank you for today.

+++

The next day, he was absent again. And then again... and again... until Friday.

Was it mean to wish someone would never come back? I meant, he didn't really like to be in with us, in the first place. Like he said, he was just bored in Ateneo, transferred here and enrolled at a different major to piss his dad off. With him gone, it could mean reconciliation between him and his dad; or, possibly, he came to his senses and realised he shouldn't be playing around in college. I consoled myself in the idea that it was for the good.

I almost dozed off on my bus ride home until... until the ghost whom I thought took off, looked like he was nothing close to finding himself. I saw him drinking outside a bar along the way.

He looked wasted. It was a drizzly night.

And for a moment, I felt guilty wishing him out. School would have been better for him than the bar.

I saw him for two more nights right by the window of the bus. I stared and stared and he was there.

The first time, my eyes could have been wrong. But on the second and third, I was certain it was him.

+++

Then came Wednesday. It was an uneventful rainy morning. My mother faked the time causing me to wake up early. Poor me, by the time she woke me up, I was dreaming about James and everything was beautiful. I would much rather trade those few moments asleep than open my eyes to this unexciting world. I missed James. He hadn't been passing by the food tent recently. He said he was on a group research or something.

We didn't have class for the first period. The professor wanted us to read on and study a file she sent us over the weekend, instead.

I occupied my routine spot at the back, hung my jacket on the backrest as I sleepyhead sipped on my yoghurt.

"Ahurm..." I heard someone clear his throat.

I dreamed of me and James lying together in a clearing as the sun rose from the horizon. And he was gleaming handsomely. I knew this sounded like a vampire-human novel but... I just couldn't get him out of my head. I could even hear him.

"May I see your notes from last week?"

I could hear him loud and clear. But I knew I was dreaming. Slowly, a hint of a strong manly scent prodded through my nostrils as I handed over my notebook.

"You're nice today," he nodded. "Good. I wasn't so in the mood---"

"What are you saying?" I babbled. "Just go away. I know you're hallucination. She really should not have waken me up too early."

"Look at you, Loser," he chortled.

Loser? Had I just been called a loser?

"Boasty!?" suddenly, the realization closed in on me. It wasn't a dream. It was Red. He came back. He was gone for like, almost a week. "But, I thought you were dropping out?"

Clearly, he wasn't. He came back. A part of me rejoiced his redemption… his finding his way back to school than being a stuck-up in bars. But another part of me didn't like the idea of an undetermined Boasty messing around in our college.

"Boast- what?" he sneered."Never mind."

The class busied over the worksheet given by the professor. So did he.

Something about him appeared to be different. He looked like he was in pain---inside pain. He seemed less airy today; just disagreeably contemptuous when he spoke. I didn't know why but he looked weak today.

Minutes passed and I caught glances of him every now and then. He looked spiritually pained but at least, he was quiet. We were peaceful. I wanted to ask him why he volunteered to be the president last week and why did he volunteer me, too, along with him.

But, he was downtrodden.

+++

He went on like that for two days. And I thought I could finally be at peace.

+++

One morning, I was running late and wet, too, as I rushed my way to FCH106.

I had a minute and thirty seconds to make it to class without the professor calling me out tardy. I was ready to announce my presence on the roll call. But... just as I got my hands on the door knob, somebody took on it, too.

I really didn't have time to give way. And, second, I thought I'd already been giving way too much my whole life so, with full determination, I kept my hands on half of the knob.

Five seconds passed and he wouldn't budge so I brought my head up to a stare. He was tall. He was amazingly annoying. He shook his head, boastfully, touching his nosebridge.

It was Red.

He looked at me teasingly. He waited till I gave in.

"I got here first," I fired.

He shook his head again, making face. He was so annoying.

"What do you want?" I wailed. "Just let me in, already!"

"Honestly, I thought you were nice and meek but now, you're displaying bad behaviour..." he teased.

"I don't care what you think. Just drop your hand."

"Why? You can just turn the knob with my hand on it."

"Perv---"

"Loser---"

Just then, as we battled for the door, the professor opened it from the inside.

I ran out of balance and fell.

He was lucky for he was crazy tall. He broke free by aiming his other hand on the wall.

The class cracked into laughter. Why did I have to be unlucky all the time? This was that Boasty's fault.

That was the day his despicable air came back.

+++

I was with James only in Lit, Speech and Advanced Bio for he could only take with my block the electives. In his absence, I usually sat either with Roma or Betty. Actually, since I made a niche out of the backseat by habit, technically, I wasn't seated with them alone; somebody was actually half a meter away from me.

Red.

I couldn't tell why he also liked the space at the back. In the beginning, the girls liked to be near him but he never really entertained anyone---like no one was ever good enough for him. And, one thing that ticked him the most was if you couldn't match his level of understanding. He'd low-key shower you with contempt and demerits.

Well, that was his thing: to look down on people; or to me, at least.

I should know by now.

He'd been seated to my side since he came back.

One time, he sprung out of his seat soon as the bell rang. He didn't even say a word as he sped past me. I fell off the chair as a result.

On another occasion, he spiked our volleyball in PE and it hit me… in the head. Hard. Immediately, I looked down on the ground to check if any of my smart cells fell through. Not one did. I was grateful. But I'd been really keeping distance from him whenever he had the ball on him ever since.

We competed for a sprint the other day. And, being my clumsy self, I tripped and fell. Cy laughed at me boisterously. He laughed at me, too. I'd never seen him laugh like that. He was so annoying but he had a warm laugh.

On one Earth Sci class, the teacher passed out questionnaires for the assessment. We weren't at the back this time as the other irregular students took that spot before us. Red sat by the aisle while I did on his right. He was supposed to take out two, but he only took one for himself. I glared at him.

"Why? Is your hickey too heavy you can't get one for yourself?" he cocked.

So I tried to snatch his questionnaire but he wouldn't let go.

The professor caught us and we both got told for it.

"It was his doing, Miss," I cried.

"Whore," Angie coughed.

I looked to my back and the PAC girls were making faces.

#WhyMe

Ultimately, in Religious Education class, the professor asked me to read on a verse. It was the first period on a Thursday so I was usually very sleepy specially reading on long passages with no pictures. I had my face held steady by one hand until, I accidentally lost consciousness and fell on his shoulders.

Just then, he stood up and said, "Restroom break."

My face sank down to the arm of his chair waking me. He smiled malevolently at me before heading to the door. I didn't have enough words left to say but Dear Saint, I thought I might end up murdering Boasty.

"Jopet," the professor called.

"Y-yes, Sir?"

Everyone laughed at me. It was embarrassing.

I really hated him. If I had the chance, I'd cut his hair off so he'd look unattractive and less cool.

#HatredWithAMixOfMisfortune

+++

"The more you hate, the more you love, Sis," Cliffy said as we ran into each other on our way to class.

I choked at the hear of that.

Whenever he was bored in class, Red usually drew. I couldn't tell what he was drawing, nor did I care. It wasn't pretty, anyway. God blessed me every time he was distracted.

Me, I liked writing my thoughts at the back of my notebook. Every time it got boring in class, I consoled myself by my thoughts which was about James half of the times.

#TopSecret

The professor asked us to read on a story called "In a Grove" privately. I'd already read that before so I was confident skimming through highlights online would be enough to refresh me.

The room was quiet and it felt peaceful. In the background, I could hear the PAC girls whispering among themselves about something else; like crickets that played in the background late at night.

"Hey, Hickey," then my peace was interrupted. "What're you writing about?"

I sighed and turned my back on him. It wasn't like we were friends or something. I hated him. Really.

"Oh, no. That's really boring, now," he skewed the chair around, to his direction.

"R-red," I froze as he swung me around effortlessly. He was incredibly strong. He almost carried me, without making much sound.

"I'm trying to be nice, you know?" he spoke quietly.

He was mortifying. I knew I was supposed to hate him but at that moment, it felt as if I was scared of him. I couldn't tell for sure. What was he planning to do now? Honestly, I feared what he'd do next. I had enough of aching caused by him.

"Why do you walk so unsteadily?" he asked, looking at the scar on my knees. "Didn't your parents teach you to walk on your own two feet?"

"Don't," I unfroze. But I realised, I might end up being loud. So, I ripped a page from my notebook and wrote him. "My parents. Don't speak of them like that."

"I asked you why," he wrote back, in manly strokes. "You think that basketball player will come to your rescue all the time?"

"Are we even close? Why are you asking me things, now?" I threw the paper on him.

"Because I like to," he penned, with signature confidence.

"Why do you like embarrassing me? Did I do anything?"

"You will be called for later. Reformation office."

"Reform? Why? Did I do anything?"

"Nothing. U just ugly," he chuckled as he wrote.

"Ugly..." I could feel my pen shaking as I wrote him back. "SPOILED BRAT!!!"

He uncrumpled the paper and brushed his nosebridge again. He always did so when he was acting cool. I made sure my written words were as loud as it could sound.

"Me, spoiled?" he crumpled the paper back, speaking under his breath so no one would hear us. "Hickey Ugly."

Hickey Ugly.

Hickey Ugly.

Hickey Ugly.

His words echoed in my ear. I was usually very good hiding my pain but why couldn't I control it every time Red did it.

"What!?" I lost it.