Miss Matchmaker

Chapter 1

“Lost and insecure
You found me
You found me
Lying on the floor”

-The Fray

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The scorching heat, the smell of grass, the blinding light… they all seemed so foreign to me. Starting a new life in this countryside, in a foreign country, took every ounce of courage from me, especially since there were only a couple of words I could string together.

I walked carefully over the overgrown grasses that surround the house my grandparents used to own, the house I was supposed to call my new home, wondering if I’d ever gain new friends.

I continued to walk until I reached the broken fence. The rusty gate, almost twice my height, was threatening to break free from its hinges.

“Hoy bata!” I heard someone say. I turned to look for the source of the voice. A serious-looking boy was looking down at me from over his sweaty brown nose.

“Ano ‘yang hawak mo?” he asked, pointing at the small notebook I was holding.

Instinctively, I tightened my hold over my notebook. My journal. I looked at him wildly.

“Ang suplada mo naman! Bago ka lang dito ha!” I couldn’t understand half the words he said so I just bowed my head low and ignored him.

“Hoy kinakausap kita. Huwag kang tatalikod sa’kin!” he grabbed my shoulder and turned me around harshly. I lost my balance and fell on the hard ground, my journal slipping from my grasp.

“Ang lampa-lampa mo naman! Para ‘yon lang natumba ka na agad! Lampayatot!” he shouted and he started pulling funny faces at me.

Why do people always laugh at me?

My eyes started to water. I grabbed onto the gate and tried to hoist myself up. Just then, I heard something creak. The gate broke free from its hinges, threatening to fall over me. I closed my eyes tightly.

“Ahhhh!” I cried, expecting the crushing pain.

But it never came.

Instead, I heard another unfamiliar voice. “Hoy Marco! Ano’ng ginagawa mo?”

“Ano ba’ng pakialam mo, Jero?!”

“Tama na yan! Umuwi ka na nga! Kung hindi lagot ka sa’kin!”

I opened my eyes. The newcomer was pushing away the boy who bullied me. The bully boy looked at the newcomer sharply but didn’t say anything. He turned and walked away while chanting lampayatot repeatedly.

The newcomer turned to me. He was holding his right hand over my head, steadying the rusty iron gate. His brown eyes were looking at me with concern, sweat running down his forehead to his pointed nose.

“Are you okay?” he asked me. He was speaking in English!

“Yes,” I mumbled meakly, “thank you.”

He smiled. He pushed the gate carefully so that it was now leaning against the tree next to it. He was so strong.

When he was done, he held out his hand to help me get to my feet. I gasped. Blood was oozing from a fresh wound at the center of his palm. Noticing my reaction, he hastily wiped his injured hand against his white shirt. Then, he reached out and grabbed my forearm, pulling me back to my feet.

“I’m so sorry!” I muttered guiltily under my breath, not daring to look at him. He saved me from the bully boy; he saved me from my clumsy self and now he’s bleeding.