And For Ever More

Bizarre Love Triangle (Frente)

Marga lets out a loud sigh and shakes her head sadly as her cellphone beeps again—the seventh time in the past ten minutes. RJ has been texting her incessantly since I refused to answer his calls and eventually switched my own phone off.

Right now, we're holed up in the library's second floor ladies' room, tucked away behind the dusty archives section. It's our favorite bathroom on campus because hardly anyone else knows about it, so we can almost always have it to ourselves, and it's always sparkling clean.

Marga is sitting on the granite counter, swinging her legs as I pat my face dry with a paper towel, having just splashed cold water on it. I inspect my reflection in the mirror; my eyes are still a bit puffy from crying, but at least my cheeks are no longer red and splotchy.

"You know you can't avoid him forever," Marga gently chides, tapping on her phone.

"I'm not planning to avoid him forever," I point out, pulling my hair back into a ponytail. "Just until we graduate."

"Bru—" She begins to say, when the bathroom door swings open, cutting her off. Her eyes widen when she sees who's just walked in. It's Tiffanee, immaculately dressed as usual, a haughty expression on her face. She ignores Marga completely, addressing me directly,

"Hey, can I talk to you for a second?"

Marga scoffs indignantly. "Wow, ang kapal din ng mukha mo, ano? Pagkatapos mong agawin yung boyfriend ng kaibigan ko—"

"You don't know what you're talking about," Tiffanee sneers, interrupting her. She draws herself up and raises an eyebrow at my best friend. "Seriously, could you give us a minute? I need to talk to Menggay alone."

"Over my dead, bootylicious baddeh, you witch with a capital B."

"Bru," I say quietly, reaching out and lightly touching her forearm. "It's okay. Might as well get it over with."

Marga snaps her head towards me, her eyebrows knitted together in concern. "Sure ka?"

"Yeah, okay lang ako," I reassure her.

Tiffanee throws her a triumphant look, and Marga shoots her a death glare. "Say please."

Tiffanee rolls her eyes and snorts in disgust. "Pwede ba wag kang immature? Ang OA mo ha. I'm just going to talk to your precious friend, I'm not going to eat her."

"Fine," Marga snaps. She jumps off the counter and snatches up her bag, slinging the strap over her shoulder. "But if you make her cry again, I swear—"

"Yes, yes, ooh, I'm so scared," Tiffanee says, waving her off and sounding utterly bored.

Marga huffs off, and as soon as the door swings shut behind her, Tiffanee turns to me. I eye her warily, bracing myself for what she's about to say.

"Vince didn't give RJ that bruise."

Okay. Not that I'd expected her to come groveling at my feet, begging for my forgiveness, but this girl seriously has some nerve. That's what she chose to open with? No mention at all of RJ or what I overhead, just her jumping immediately to her boyfriend's defense? Blood rushes to my head and I open my mouth to speak, but she beats me to it.

"His dad did."

This takes me thoroughly by surprise. "What? Anong pinagsasabi mo?" I demand angrily. How dare she come in here and tell me disgusting lies to get herself off the hook??

She sighs heavily and rests her bag on the counter, suddenly looking exhausted. "Things weren't always so bad for RJ. They used to be a perfectly normal family. Pero nung namatay si Tita Rio, nagbago si Tito Dick. I don't know, he just sort of...fell apart. He started shutting everyone out, focusing only on work...and he started drinking—a lot."