The Sun, The Moon, and Their Stars

13 : Notes

We're supposed to make a business plan. A hypothetical study that could somehow help the economic situations in our localities. This means, she already paired us up by proximity, which further means that I'll be working with the only other person in class who lives in the same town.

"Kimberly? Oh, she's absent." Miss Cruz notices the empty seat where Kim sits. "Better inform her then," she tells me with a nod. And she goes on around the room telling the rest of my classmates whom they're teamed with.

I need to arrange stuff for this project now that my after-class hours and even Saturdays are already devoted to the Math Circle. So, right after the teacher left, I approach Angel, our class secretary, and ask for Kim's contact details. Then she takes out a thin notebook from her bag and searches for it.

"She did not give a number."

Angel even shows me the page where our class directory is organized in neat handwriting. And true enough, there's nothing else next to Kim's name.

"Huh."

"Maybe you should ask Lawrence," Angel cheerfully says. "I'm sure he knows."

"Okay...uh...thanks."

Lawrence is one of those who treat the honor roll as the Olympics. But if being valedictorian were a popularity contest and should be decided by a voting body, I'd definitely vote for him over Aldrin, for the sole reason that Lawrence is less annoying.

He raises his thick eyebrows as he hurriedly walks out after I call him from the door of their classroom. We're in-between subjects, and their next teacher might come in any second, so I go straight to the point.

"She doesn't have a cellphone," he says.

"What about a landline?"

"They no longer have one."

"Is there any way to contact her?"

He looks up. "Her mother has a cellphone," he says. Then he shakes his head. "But I don't know the number," he adds.

"Okay," I sigh. "Thanks, anyway."

He turns around and starts walking back to their classroom. And I'm just about to leave and go back to section wisdom when this idea from nowhere in particular surfaces in my mind.

"Lawrence, wait!"

He stops and goes back to the doorway. "What?" His thick eyebrows are furrowed.

"Have you been to their house before?"

"Yes. Twice, I think."

"Which one is it?"

***

I only know the street where she turned right from that night we walked together when I watched her disappear on that corner before I made my way home. So, I asked her friend for more details. And according to Lawrence, their house is in the middle of the left row when coming from the highway. It's a bungalow with a maroon gate and is across a sari-sari store.

I'm standing in front of the seventh house on the left side of this street, and the paint of the front gate, though rusty and already fading, is maroon. It's the only bungalow around here with that description, and there's a store right behind me. So, there's no mistake that this is Kim's house.

I ring the doorbell on the concrete pillar beside the smaller entrance gate and peek through the opening. I can see behind the screen that the front door is open. I ring the doorbell again.

The screen door slightly opens, and a face comes out from the other side. I wave at Kim as she slowly steps outside, looking very much surprised.

She opens the gate and stands there, holding onto its side. She's wearing an oversized black t-shirt with the cover art of Pinkerton printed on it, and denim shorts.