Anecdotes of a Hobo [[on hold]]

Eleven - Better Late Than Never

A/N:

MissLittlePrincess, sana di ako nagkamali sa spelling, this one's for you. From reading your story, Complicated Love, I inferred that you like high school romance. :)

section - in the Philippines, the use of the word is synonymous with homeroom

Manang - used to address older women

KKB- kanya-kanyang bayad, to pay for your own meal

libre - free

C.R. - comfort room, bathroom, mens room/ ladies room

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You tell me you're in love with me

Like you can't take your pretty eyes away from me

It's not that I don't wanna stay

But every time you come too close I move away

I wanna believe in everything that you say

'Cause it sounds so good

But if you really want me, move slow

There's things about me you just have to know

Sometimes I run, sometimes

Sometimes I hide

Sometimes I'm scared of you

But all I really want is to hold you tight

Treat you right, be with you day and night

Baby all I need is time

I don't wanna be so shy

Every time that I'm alone I wonder why

Hope that you will wait for me

You'll see that you're the only one for me

I wanna believe in everything that you say

'Cause it sounds so good

But if you really want me, move slow

There's things about me you just have to know

The words of Britney Spears's song echoed in Meira's head. She decided to pause it. I need to download that acoustic cover NOW. She was in her bedroom, all alone. Recalling the moment when Andrei first spoke to her brought along a feeling of guilt. The whole immigration thing was a secret she kept from her friends at her old school, but she also kept a secret from her family. This is why she wanted to be alone. She didn't want to be in the living room with her mother.

Alone in her reverie, Meira tried to remember the indescribable scent of freshly cut and burnt grass in the fields near Philippine Prep. Every so often, the friendly janitors of her old school cut them for reasons Meira didn't know. Most of the students didn't venture out into the fields, except on the spot where there were three wooden benches, built under a shade of bamboos. It's a nice place to be, but even so, it was hardly visited because most of the students would rather play basketball, volleyball, or whatever sport they fancied at a particular moment. They didn't want to sit down and hang around wooden benches where the smell of burnt grass lingered.

Meira couldn't smell the burnt grass anymore. If she could, then she would have been hallucinating because her former school and Maceda were halfway around the world.

The night of that particular September afternoon, which also happened to be a Friday, Meira silently ate her dinner in the family dining room. Everyone was present. Her mother didn't notice that she wasn't talking about her new school and her new friends in Philippine Prep. That was good. She kept a low profile the whole night. Since that night, never again did Meira talk enthusiastically about her days in school at the dinner table. She loved her family, especially her mother. And she didn't want to argue with her, just because a boy asked for her name, and that she can't stop thinking about him. So she remained quiet in her seat and enjoyed the suppers she ate with her family, night after night.