Chapter 2 Bracelet

Bea

I woke up to a commotion outside my room. I quickly went out and saw my siblings excitedly opening gifts from our mother.

"Look what Mom brought us!" my sister Sarah said happily. We are almost the same age, with me being just a year older.

I glanced at the gifts from our mother. I didn't see a single thing meant for me.

"What about mine, Mom?" I asked, feeling a bit childish but unable to help myself. I'd never received any gifts from her when I was a child. It's not that I really wanted anything, but I had hoped she might surprise me someday... but she never did.

My mother avoided my gaze. "Sorry, dear, we were short on the budget."

I had expected that answer. Was there really no other reason? I heard that excuse over and over again. I glanced at my two siblings, who were overjoyed.

Short on the budget? Yet everything she bought for my siblings was expensive. I started to wonder if I was really her child or not.

"Next time, I'll-"

"I need to wash up. I have an early start," I cut her off. I didn't want to hear her empty promises anymore.

I left them in the living room and went into the bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror, tired of crying over something so difficult for her to give me.

I felt like they never saw me as important, or maybe they thought I could handle things because I was the oldest? What kind of stereotype is that?

I left the bathroom and went back to my room. I put on my school uniform and was heading downstairs when I saw the three of them laughing together. I felt like I didn't belong to this family.

I sighed heavily and walked past them. They didn't even invite me to eat.

Do I deserve to feel jealous of my siblings? After my father died, I never received any attention from my mother.

I laughed bitterly and got on a tricycle.

"To Fernandez University, please," I said as I handed the fare to the driver.

"Is that where you study?" the driver asked.

Wasn't it obvious? "Yes, why?"

"What year are you in?" he asked again.

"Second year," I answered curtly.

"You know, I wanted to send my child to that university. It's her dream school... but," his voice trailed off.

"But?" I asked, curious.

"But my wife and I decided to put her education on hold because the tuition is too expensive. We can't afford it. She wanted to get a part-time job, but we didn't want her to because it's our responsibility," he continued.

I fell silent at his words. They valued their dignity as parents more than their child's feelings. Their child even offered to work, but they refused, thinking it was their responsibility. I didn't know if I should feel bad for the driver, but they should support their child.

Especially since their child was willing to work to ease their worries about tuition. But I couldn't blame them for thinking it was their responsibility to raise their children. However, their sense of responsibility and dignity led them to stop their child's dream.

But perhaps their child didn't hold any resentment, judging by the driver's face. Life isn't a race, so there's still hope.

I sighed and looked out the window. When we arrived at F.U., I saw a line of boys outside. Their hair was too long, looking like a boy band, and they weren't allowed in. Even though we were in college, the school was still strict about proper hygiene, yet the fans were not working properly, tsk.

Let me guess, those boys would enter with uneven haircuts—long on one side, short on the other. They couldn't escape our discipline faculty.

As I walked into the school, I was surprised to see my male classmates. They were all bald and lined up.

I didn't know whether to laugh or feel sorry for the faculty. Shaving their heads wasn't required, but my classmates lined up to show the faculty they were bald.

I laughed at Mathew, who was glaring at me. What had my classmates fed him to make him agree to this?

I teased him before heading to our classroom. What had they bet on to make him agree to that? Mathew was usually the quiet one in our class, always neat and barely speaking. We were somewhat close, and I was probably the only one who dared to tease him.

When I entered the classroom, I noticed only a few of us were there, aside from the boys outside the gate.

After I sat down, I took my phone out of my bag. As I scrolled through my phone, I glanced at the bracelet on my wrist.

I couldn't remember the man's face. It wasn't that I had trouble remembering faces, but I just couldn't recall his since I never looked directly at people when talking to them.

I felt like if I looked into their eyes, I was afraid their eyes would betray their words.

"Who are you?" I asked myself.

A few minutes later, the boys returned to the classroom. I didn't join their jokes and continued reading. After a while, Mathew arrived, slamming his bag next to me.

Startled, I turned to him. "What's wrong with you? It's too early to be in a bad mood. By the way, nice haircut." I tried to stifle my laughter, fearing he might hit me with his book.