“I wouldn’t be able to do it without your help,” Yana told me right after she was elected as one of the sophomore representatives of the Student Board.
It was a landslide victory, though I didn’t want to put the praise to my endorsement as what she was doing right now.
“The first time I read it I wanted to cry. You are amazing, Rin.”
“It was all you,” I said matter-of-factly. “All I did was to tell them about you.”
Yana and I were going back to the room from buying snacks in the cafeteria. To our class adviser’s delight, she offered to treat us at Yana’s victory party.
“Oh, I forgot to buy you something!” Yana exclaimed when we were already upstairs.
I just smiled and told her she didn’t have to give me anything (else). Well, that tight hug she gave me after the vote count (and the fact that I was the first one she hugged too) was more than enough.
After class, Yana went to the SB meeting right away and told me I should go home without her. I was contemplating whether I should wait for her instead, when I noticed a boy outside our room. He seemed to be waiting for someone.
My remaining classmates didn’t seem to notice him so I approached him instead.
“I’m looking for Ms. Yana, the student representative. I’m hoping I can catch her before she goes home,” he said.
He was a short, innocent-looking boy so I took a glimpse of his ID to check what year he was in. Calvin Lorenzo, a freshman. I wondered what a young boy like him would possibly want from Yana.
“She’s in the SB room now. She left earlier than the rest of us,” I told him. I was expecting he would just leave but he looked troubled.
“I’m hoping she could… help me.” He couldn’t look at me and I started to feel his nervousness. It was making me uncomfortable.
I seriously had no idea what kind of problem he was referring to and it was getting late. I could just dismiss him if I wanted to, but it made me feel guilty sending him off even without hearing him out. After the endorsement I had made for Yana, it wouldn’t be right if a student would lose trust in her just like this.
“What is it about? I can relay the message to her when I see her tomorrow,” I said.
The freshman looked around first to make sure nobody could hear us (as if it was necessary; the room and hall was completely deserted now).
“It’s about my sister, Nicole Lorenzo,” he said in a hushed tone. “She was the one who died in this school three years ago. And it seems she had found out something.”