TBBM XVI. Slave For The Semester

"Free will?" he looked at me in utter denial. "Don't you think you relinquished your rights since you used my lappy and printer? You're my slave for the semester!"

"W-what?"

"I'm warning you, Hicks. If you make me wait like hell again---"

"Let me go," I tried to break free. "I didn't agree to anything like this."

He flashed me that devilish stare.

"I mean," he looked really scary when did that face. "Why am I slaving for the semester? It could be a day or a week, or---"

"You don't like to?"

"No," I declined, confidently. He probably thought he could get me to do his bidding all the time just because he looked good.

"Final answer?" he chagrined.

"No. I don't like to."

"Okay," he let go of his grip on my bag. "Leaves me with no choice."

He turned his back on me and aimed for the ERS reception. It puzzled me since he had no need of the facility---he had everything in his car. I blocked him when he reached the door.

"What are you doing now?" I grabbed him by the sleeve. Something in me feared touching him. He was too beautiful. I felt like I didn't deserve my hands on him.

"According to the code of conduct for the use of the ERS, no one is allowed to access prohibited sites or contents such as: online shopping, pornography, social networking and other related spaces that feature indecency, terrorism, sedition, drugs, including anything prohibited by the law of the land---"

"Hang on," I finally realised. "You will sell me out?"

"I don't feel responsible for you since I'm not your master. But if you were my slave, I'd protect you---never mind, you already said---"

He took my hand off his sleeve and motioned closer to the door.

"Yes!" I embraced him from behind. "Yes, I do."

Slowly, the students in and out of the ERS started to notice us. Soon, they started cheering. W-what did I say again? I wondered if I really said 'I do…?' The people around took it for something else. How embarrassing.

They thought that I was clinging on to Red for romantic reasons; they had no idea that it was all for safety purposes.

Red seemed to enjoy the attention. But I didn't. I started to tun purple once more.

"Let's go now," I grabbed his hand and we fled the sea of cheers together.

#Fail

+++

The college held its very first meeting with the class representatives. The class presidents and vice presidents were invited to set expectations for the year.

It was discussed that a bazaar will be opened for the Language Week along with the Celebration of the Nutrition Month.

There would also be a contest in local delicacies; and since my mother was a gifted cook, I told Red to assign the actual preparation to me.

"I don't think you should," he declined me, casually.

"I can really manage. I promise."

"Just save your competitive spirit for November," he whispered. "Look, it says, 'horror house.' You wouldn't have to sweat preparing, Hicks."

"Am I that ugly?" I babbled. He was being cruel again. I knew I wasn't pretty but did have to always shove it down my throat?

He stared at me, not saying anything. I hated it every time he was mean to me.

+++

He told me to join him at the Square Pantry---that was the biggest food sector of the university. I avoided talking to him as we walked. Instead, I let my mind wandered off to the possible meanings of being Red's slave. Protect me? What did he mean by that---when he constantly called me ugly.

"Here," he signalled the uniformed guy from one of the restaurants.

We were seated outside, with the open view of the lake. It was a nice day.

"What?" he sat and stared at me again. "Are you mad at me?"

"Why do you always bully me?" I looked down. "Did you know that I was really trying to not be bullied? I was trying to be strong, actually---not, the strong like you or Angie or the Earth Sci professor; I just wanted to be strong enough to be normal, you know?"

"I don't follow."

"You know, strong enough to stand up against the bullies, like normal people; strong enough to say what I mean... to live as my actual self..."

"So, you think I'm actually derailing you on your way to being strong?" he asked, as the waiter laid our food on the table. We had three different meals each, a soup and a dessert. His appetite was so big. "It wasn't like that."

"Why do you always call me ugly?"

"I didn't. I just copied you. You called your self ugly once."

"I?" I dropped the fork on the plate.

"If you didn't want to be called a certain name, or be treated a certain way, why did you have to keep acting like such?" his eyes were on me, intently. "If you didn't want me to call you ugly, why didn't you ever say so? More importantly, if you wanted to be deemed as strong, why did you always have to be so passive?"

"Because I---" I took a big gulp, actually, he was making sense---allot of sense. I almost felt ashamed talking back to him. When did I ever tell anyone how I wanted to be treated? Never. "I was saving it for a special day."

"Special day?"

"I can't tell you," how could I tell him about my actual transition?

"You didn't have to wait for tomorrow to want to be called pretty, if that's so important to you," he said, seriously. "The fact that it annoys you means you actually wanted, deep inside you, to be called pretty."

"Tell me which girl doesn't want to," I mumbled.

"Then be pretty. Simple as that," he sighed. "Actually, I think---"

Dub dub. Dub dub.

Suddenly, I felt nervous. What did he want to say? I looked up to him. Waiting for what he'd say next. He paused indefinitely, looking for words. He looked caught up in something.

"Nothing," he dismissed, licking his lower lip. "You're ugly."

I couldn't help it. I cried.

+++

Dear Saint,

Why is Red like that? Sometimes, he sounded really wise. But some other times, he talked really awfully cruel. I think I had enough of his bullying. I couldn't take it anymore. He always called me ugly. I didn't want to be called ugly anymore. I didn't want him to keep picking on me, belittling me. I couldn't bear listening to our neighbours, to Ma-ho any longer, telling me that I'm hopeless. Dear Saint, can you ask the Lord if he still hated me? They said He didn't delight on kids who wanted to alter their bodies. Can you tell him that I am asking for forgiveness in advance? I can't live like this anymore. I wanted to wear skirts, short shorts, dresses. I wanted to wear make up. I wanted go out and date. I wanted to bloom, already. Please, my Saint."