Kit Castille didn't want to be one of the girls who worshiped Matthew Rondillo in college. She doesn't want to be one of the girls in his little black book now. But she gave her heart to Matthew all those years ago. Driven by revenge, she's on a mis...
Everyone knows Matthew, but not everyone gets to see his beautiful face in person, especially not for two hours straight in one confined space. "Take a seat," Sir Magic Pants says. "Hazel, continue."
The faint whispers continue as Matthew passes smoothly behind Hazel, causing her skirt to rustle a bit. With her mouth ajar, my BFF coughs out the last of her recently acquired bashfulness and proceeds with her presentation.
To my horror, Matthew sits beside me on Hazel's chair. He extends a hand and says, "Hi, I'm Matthew."
"I'm Kit?" I reply, a little unsure if I sound like one of his fan girls. Eww.
His face lights up even in the semi darkness. "Hey, I know you," he says. And for once, I feel the world shifted.
The world shifted alright. In fact, the entire Journalism department shifted when Matthew decided to change courses. He went from being one of the third-generation doctors in his family to being the first editor of The Literati who actually looks and sounds good not just on paper.
How I came to know Matthew was more of an accident rather than a result of a well thought-out scheme Hazel did.
A few months ago, she brought homemade spaghetti to class and asked me to go with her to The Literati headquarters at the ground floor of the university's main building. Her plan was simple: she'd deliver the box of homemade spaghetti to one of our batch mates who works there as a staffer. Then she'd introduce herself to Matthew and beg for a job.
Hazel's scheme worked out perfectly. Unfortunately, Matthew didn't go to class that day because of a family affair. How I knew this, I'll never tell.
I actually met Matthew Rondillo at the university chapel last semester. I was waiting for my high school best friend to fetch me one afternoon when I saw Matthew enter the church, alone. I was sitting at the last pew when our eyes met. He left the church a good fifteen minutes later.
He saw me again the following week, but this time, he's with someone – a girl wearing the same uniform as mine. For a while there, I thought maybe he shifted courses because of a girl.
I was sitting at the same spot and our eyes met again just as he left. Only this time, the look he gave me came with a quick, courteous nod.
I did not go to the university chapel the following week but something was nagging me to go anyway. I wanted to see if Matthew really goes to church every week. I sat on one of the benches facing the field, just right in front of the church. Twenty minutes later, Matthew arrived and left after fifteen minutes.
This went on for a few more days and it felt like a secret I had to keep from anyone who wants to stalk Matthew for a stint at The Literati.
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