The Love (Dis)connection

Chapter 2

Before my talk with Dante, I was already resigned to being pathetically in love with Jack for maybe the rest of our college years. We were already in our third year anyway, so I just had one more year of following him around like a lost puppy before I could get out of University of Saint Philomena and meet oodles of hard-working gents, who could probably compare to Jack. Hopefully.

It’s just that the University of Super Papers, oh, I meant, Saint Philomena, was too small that we saw the same people every day. And believe me, there were not too many crushable men in school. Some were either too young, or acted too young for their age, while the really dateable men were already taken by equally impressive women. Jack was one of the last unattached males in school, and with his talents, short curly hair, and gentlemanly manners, he was a certified heartthrob. There was no shortage of women trying to catch his attention. Or, failing that, trying to befriend me so that they can interact with Jack by hanging out with me. I couldn’t really blame them; I’ve done the same thing once or twice in high school. I just wish they weren’t the bitchy ones—the ones who wouldn’t give me a second look, much less befriend me—who kept trying to cozy up to me just to get to Jack.

In the car, on our way home, I finally brought up one thing that’s been bugging me all day. “Elena’s asking us to go to her party tomorrow night. I said I couldn’t go, but she asked if I could ask you to go in my stead.” I rolled my eyes. Elena Polly is this petite of a doll who loves to spread rumors about other girls, but acts the innocent when around cute—whether available or unavailable—men. You know the type.

Jack snorted, switching lanes with ease. “If you’re not going, then I’m not either. I know the type of parties she throws. They’re always full of people I’m not friends with, and she serves a different kind of coke, if you know what I mean.”

That made me feel a little relieved. We lapsed into silence as we listened to Yano’s Senti (OPM rocks!), but instead of feeling comfortable as we always did, Dante’s words keep coming back to me. It made me want to do something—something reckless.

“Listen,” I said, just as he went, “Aurelia—”

We both laughed.

“Go ahead,” I urged, wanting to delay the urge in my heart that’s screaming to just get it out already.

“Aurelia, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you,” he started. He didn’t glance at me, just stared straight ahead.

Oh God. Is this it? Will he finally tell me he loves me too? Oh my God am I ready for this? Am I? No, don’t tell me. No. No. Yes. Yes. Yes!

“I think I really like Eula Severina,” he finally stated, half-whispered into the night.

“I like you, too!” I blurted out, just as the stoplight turned red, and Jack put on the brakes.

Wait. What?

Did I hear him say he likes Eula, not ‘you’ as in me?

“What did you say?” Jack asked, looking at me, a stunned and horrified look on his face.

I quickly backtracked. “I said I like Eula, too. She’s nice,” I started blabbering. “She’ll be good for you. Is she single? Have you talked to her? When’s the first date? Do you think you’ll fall in love with her? Marry her? Does she love you too? What do you think?” That was the first time I ever regretted agreeing to his driving me home.

His expression changed from shock to relief. He didn’t even seem to realize he was making those faces. “You like Eula for me, too?”

I uttered one of the first lies I’ve ever told him in the history of our friendship. “Yes!”

I didn’t know at that time that it would only be the first of many.

—0o0o0o0—

I spent the night crying after Jack dropped me off, pleading to my concerned parents that I just had a really nasty migraine and all I wanted to do was sleep. And that yes, I’m fine, Jack and I didn’t fight.

The next day, in the history of never, I wore sunglasses to school. I wasn’t able to rub ice over my puffy eyes last night to prevent the puffiness (yes, this works) right before I slept so I woke up looking like I hadn’t slept an entire week. I already felt like a train wreck, but I didn’t need to look like it, too.

Thankfully, by the time my first class started at half past ten, my eyes were already down to an explainable size. All queries by concerned parties were fielded off with the reasonable explanation that I had been up all night researching for our ten-page paper on the trade and diplomatic relations of South East Asian nations.

As we had all been kept up late by a particularly horrendous paper at various points in our stay in USP, this was a very reasonable and believable excuse.

I usually sat in the middle. The front row people are usually the victims of teacher spittle, or being ordered to clean up the whiteboard, or other teacher-required tasks. But then, they were usually the eager beavers, the ones most eager to learn so they didn’t mind sitting up front. The people at the back are usually the noisy ones, so I tend to avoid them. But I sit in the middle, fairly away from spittle, and close enough to the back so that I could be kept entertained by their low-whispered jokes and antics in case the lecture was particularly boring that day.

Dante, of course, was a front-row person. Jack, on the other hand, sat right beside me in all classes. On a lucky day, I only had one class with him. On an even luckier day, we had three classes together. Today was one of those very lucky days, much to my dismay.

Jack and I usually sat in the middle near the back door of the room. Almost all classrooms at the University of Saint Philomena have two doors: one at the front for the teacher and when the class starts, and one at the back in case any of the students had to duck out of the room for whatever reason and not disturb the rest of the class.

We didn’t go to school together in the morning, because he was usually almost a few minutes late, while I was a stickler for being punctual for classes. Thank God for small favors.

Dante, that morning, took one look at me and my huge sunglasses, and took the seat next to me—the one I usually reserved for Jack by putting my bag there. Dante casually strolled to my side, put his bag on the space underneath the chair, lifted my bag, and sat down.

“What are you doing?” I hissed, massaging my temples.

He leaned in closer to me so as not to let our other classmates hear us. “Huge sunglasses, after our talk yesterday? I take it, it didn’t go well?”

“You utter rot. You scum,” I whispered back. It was, honestly, the most polite response I came up with.

But Dante, to my surprise, didn’t even take offense. He looked sincerely sorry. “I’m sorry if it’s because of what I said.”

Oh, I wanted to blame him, to tell him that if it wasn’t for him putting ideas in my head, I wouldn’t have felt the urge to say anything at all. But putting blame on other people was just not my style, no matter how much I wanted to lash out. I sighed, putting away my glasses as the teacher came in. Jack was still nowhere in sight. He cut it pretty close to the fifteen-minute allowed lateness.

“It’s not your fault, Dante. He simply doesn’t feel the same way.”

“He said that?” his tone incredulous. He raised his hand absent-mindedly as his name was called in the roll call.

I got my bag from him, getting my readings and notebook out. “Not exactly. He said he likes Eula, and I thought he was saying I like you, so I said ‘I like you too!’ I had to gush about Eula and his admiration for her throughout the thankfully short trip.” I laughed bitterly, trying to take some of the sting out of my memory.

“Ouch.”

I shrugged.

“If it makes you feel any better, I think you’re wonderful.”

I stopped in the middle of writing the date on a fresh page on my notebook. I glanced at him surreptitiously. “That’s really nice of you, Dante.”

He mumbled something incoherent beneath his breath, but I didn’t get to ask him about it because class started, and Mr. Templar was not someone you want to cross.