There wasn't much about Jane on her Facebook account – except a bunch of travel photographs – one of which was in Cebu. As I flicked through her images, my conscience came into play.
Good Conscience: "You're stalking her. That's not good, Pat."
Bad Conscience: "That's alright. You're just taking a sneaky-peeky."
Good Conscience: "Imagine if she finds out that you just went through her photos like this."
Bad Conscience: "No one will know if no one will talk."
Good Conscience: "Yeah. But what if it all goes down like it's supposed to? The whole neighborhood knows you, and they'll expose you."
Bad Conscience: "That's nonsense. Go ahead and appreciate her gorgeousness – like you always do. Do you think she'll give a fuck if she knew? Trust me, she'll like you."
Good Conscience: "Don't even listen to him, he's bad for you."
Bad Conscience: "You know what? I don't like your attitude."
After my scruples brawled for my next move, I immediately went out of her account. It all made sense to me. I haven't even talked to her in the first place – and there I was, feasting through her album. For some, it may not be malicious. But mostly, it was. It was funny how my integrity worked out this time – it usually didn't.
She changed a lot, physically. The Jane that I knew just wasn't there anymore – only her eyes stayed the same. Most especially, her reserved aura was altered by a liberated one. She wore bikinis – no longer afraid to show skin. It definitely was a stupefying transformation.
Furthermore, her travelling made me think that it must have been a way out of her depression, if what Ma'am Merl said was true. The monumental places and destinations she visited across the country gave me chills. I felt proud for her – for giving herself a chance to love whatever was left of her – for showing the world that even in her darkest days, she stood for what she knew was right – for appreciating the beauty of nature. Travelling just wasn't my pursuit. But after her photos made me ponder what and how it felt to be in such places.
There was something really outlandish about her. I would admit, her complete makeover impressed me. Nevertheless, it wasn't really her physical appearance which made me conclude that she was out of the ordinary – her eyes mesmerized me. I suddenly flashed back when I was looking at her pictures. Based from my keen observation, her eyes were telling. It was as if the entire photograph was a complete boloney if it wasn't for her spellbinding eyes.
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"PATRICK!"
"Y-yes?"
Ma'am Merl's thunderous roar broke my ice. "I have been asking you about your opinion about the last article submitted to us, which for your information, you edited," she sarcastically said. "What's wrong with you? You look like a traumatic patient who just got out of an asylum."
"I'm sorry, Ma'am. I guess it's just stress," I reckoned. "Do you mind if I step out of the campus and smoke?"
"If that will help you, carry on."
"Thank you."
She looked at me peculiarly as I slothfully unstuck from my seat and idly sauntered out of the school, wondering what my problem was. As familiar as she was about my actions, she knew exactly that something was bothering me. Ever since she learned that I smoked, she vehemently sought me to stop, or if not lessen my consummation.
"Two menthols, please?" I asked the store lady.
"There you go," she said. "How are you, sir?"
"I'm fine. Thank you. By the way, I'm not an instructor here. I'm a student."
"Is that so? I'm sorry."
"It's alright. Do you mind if I borrow a seat?"
"Sure," she said as she handed me a stool. "There you go."
"Thanks!"
As I sat down and lit my cig, I saw a group of girls walking towards the store. I already had a bad feeling about what was going to happen – still, I kept my composure. From afar, I already sensed that they were talking about me. It wasn't because I'm too confident about myself. I just really had a strong gut feel. There were five of them, if I wasn't mistaken. And, I almost choked when one of them approached me.
"Hi there," the tallest girl said.
I looked around as if I was looking for anyone else.
"You. No one's here except you," she followed up.
"Here we go," I whispered. "Oh, me? Do I know you?"
"Not yet," she confidently answered.
I looked at her in the eye. Honestly, it wasn't the first time that someone bumped on me, seeking acquaintance. Too bad, it wasn't her lucky day. I held up my stick, puffed the smoke and exhaled it in front her.
"I'm sorry, young lady. I am not interested."
Her eyes rolled, signaling a must exit for them.
"Fine," she bitterly answered. "Don't act as if everyone here likes you."
My eyebrows curved. "Trying to flip the table, huh?" I thought.
"Well, miss. I'm sorry if I offended you. But before you talk to me like that, please do remember that you're the one who initiated the conversation, not me."
"You boastful prick!" she yelled. "Let's go, girls."
As she tottered out of the scene, the other four rushed behind her. The store lady laughed so hard she was caught off guard teary-eyed.
"That was unbelievable," she cheered.
"I'm sorry for making a scene," I apologized. "I should've known better."
"It's alright. Besides, those five? They always come here and ask me about you."
"For real?"
"Yes!" she replied. "When they saw you buying a pack of cigarette here on your first day, they came here and asked me what your name was. I didn't know by then, so I had nothing to tell them."
"It's Patrick," I responded. "Thank you for the cigarette," I added as I gave her my payment.
I went back to our office, and a cryptic Ma'am Merl was waiting.
"How was it?"
"What?" I curiously asked.
"The girls. How was it, talking down on them?"
"Ma'am, I beg to disagree. I—"
"Enough," she ranted. First of all, you shouldn't have talked to them that way. They were just trying to make friends with you."
"I apologize, Ma'am."
"What's the matter? Tell me."
"I don't know. I just don't feel comfortable talking to anyone."
"But you have to."
"I don't feel like I belong here. Look at them. They're all youngsters. And what am I? A 23-year old guy who's here to finish what I have started? It just doesn't feel right at all."
"I'll throw it back to you, Pat," she gently explained while making me look at the entire school. "Look around you. Don't you see? You're absolutely right. They're all teenagers, and youngsters. And you can be a great role model to them. With your ample experience, you can help them with whatever they need."
"I'll have to take my time, Ma'am. I-it's just that—"
"You're brokenhearted?"
"Not that. It's just that I came back here, unplanned. Last month, I was still working in Manila. All of a sudden, I'm here enrolled. Everything happened too quickly."
"Give yourself time," she clinched. "But I'll expect more from you, Pat."
"You're better than that," she added.