5
Flip side!
“Ma, would you please lower the volume down?” Nicky asked the nth time. But her mother still wouldn’t fully oblige. She’d lower the volume a few notches then raised it again after a few minutes. It was Thursday night, and she was working on an essay that needed to be passed the next day. She was at the kitchen area, at the dining table, while her mother was right across her, lying down on the small old torn sofa that faced the television.
“Ma!” Nicky called again.
“Oh, it’s not that loud,” her mother replied.
“It is. And I can’t concentrate,” she complained.
“Why don’t you take your mind off that for a while and join me here. It’s Gossip Girl, now.”
Nicky drew out a small grunt. “Well, I should get this done. And I’m not that much of a fan of that show,” she sighed. “You’re probably the only mother in the world who encourages her daughter to leave her assignment and watch TV on a class night.”
“I just think you need to relax for a while, Nic. You looked so stressed for a sixteen-year old. You should not beat yourself up, you know.”
“I got deadlines to catch, ma.
Even though Linda, Nicky’s mother, was working only as a clerk at the Municipal office, she still could afford cable. They had not that much bills to pay, except for the electricity, water and a few debts. Besides, she still wouldn’t worry too much because Nicky’s sibs were still small. She’d been saving money for all her kids’ college education, though, but she was confident Nicky could get a full scholarship for college in either UP or other prestigious universities. Nicky had applied for CHED and DOST scholarships as well.
Now Nicky’s mom was a couch potato, and it sometimes made Nicky wonder why it didn’t rub on her that much. She felt lucky she wasn’t the type to hog the TV set all day, though. But this difference between her and her mom made Nicky realized of other qualities and attributes her mom had that she couldn’t see in herself. For one thing, her mom was beautiful, soft-spoken, relaxed, laid-back and carefree. It frustrated her why she couldn’t be at least any one of these things. Her mom would often say you’re just like your father.
Nicky hadn’t met her father to confirm if what her mother said was even true. She barely knew the guy except that he died from a shipwreck. Her mother wouldn’t say much about it despite Nicky’s persistent questions. After almost ten years, Linda met another man, but after a year of relationship he had gone abroad, and she had not heard anything from him, since then. He left her with Dexter. She soon discovered he already had another family. Nicky remembered this guy. She didn’t really like him because he smoke and drank. A couple of years after, Linda met another man, and not later she bore Jenny. But unfortunately, the man also left her, this time, for a younger woman. He left without knowing they had a daughter together. Linda didn’t bother to tell him. Nicky also remembered this man. He was rather okay-looking and rich. But she also didn’t like him. She wondered if maybe, she wouldn’t like her father, either, had she met him. She hadn’t liked any of her mom’s boyfriends, and she felt relieved and somewhat happy her mom had not had any for the last two years. She hadn’t heard of any suitors, too. She didn’t want another man coming in and going out of their house. She didn’t like the meaningful glances and the wild chatters the whole neighborhood threw in about her mom. She didn’t like the way Aunt Gracia, their next-door neighbor, who was not really a relative but whom she called aunt to show respect, sneer and talk to her mom in an undermining manner.
“Blaire is such a doll,” Her mother suddenly said. “She’s really fun to watch.”
Nicky sighed as she continued working on her assignment.
It was Founder’s Day celebration. There was a gleeful spirit in the air. Everyone was excited. No class for the day, and it was okay not to wear the school uniform. Nicky donned on their class shirt, a blue cotton t-shirt with the word senior printed at the back and the logo of the school at the front, a pair of jeans and sneakers. She noticed most of her classmates were not even wearing their class shirts. They weren’t even wearing any blue. She should have told them to wear some blue shirt especially that all the other year levels were wearing theirs, or at least wearing shirts according to their year level color.
The first thing she did that morning, after the parade, was went to Mrs. Calunod to pass her essay. She wasn’t surprised most of her classmates had not made theirs. They thought it should be submitted on Monday even though they all heard Mrs. Calunod said, “Submit it tomorrow.” Only few had made their homework. Others had the dance practice and preparations as their alibis. Nicky was not anymore included in the dance number. She had not joined in the practice due to the walkout drama last Monday. Only half of the class had even joined the dance. It was John Michael who took over the lead. He was also the class vice-president.
“Nicky, what can I do for you?” asked Mrs. Calunod as Nicky walked inside her classroom. The sophomore’s adviser and the English teacher as well, spoke with a forced American diction. She was tall, gaunt and old, but she wore a lot of make-up to cover the wrinkles and lines on her face. She put on a floral loose-fitting blouse-dress over a pair of dark smart pants.
“Good morning, ma’am,” Nicky responded enthusiastically. “I’m here to pass the class essays.”
“Oh! I didn’t realize. Was it due today?” Mrs. Calunod was pressing on some foundation on her already powdered face. She looked at Nicky over her compact.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Are those all from the seniors?” Mrs. Calunod looked at the few papers Nicky held on her hand.
“No, ma’am. Some had not made theirs. They thought it was due Monday, or so they like to think.”
“Silly me. I forgot yesterday that we had the founder’s day today. I actually meant to say it’s due right after founder’s day. You know, me, dear. When I say tomorrow I actually mean it to be Monday.”
“Yes, ma’am. We understand it to be Monday if you say tomorrow on a Friday. But it was yesterday—which is a Thursday—when you said tomorrow. We assumed it was really today that we should pass the assignment.”
“No, dear. I got confused. I appreciate that you did your homework. But you know what? Why don’t you return the papers back to your classmates and pass them to me on Monday morning. This time, I want it encoded, and not hand-written.”
“Why couldn’t I just pass it today?”
“Well, most of your classmates had not really made theirs. And I’d be busy this day for the founder’s. I can’t check your paper until Monday.”
Nicky was grimacing as she headed back to their room. She did what she told and returned the papers back to her classmates. Most of those who hadn’t made their essays said, “I told you so.” And she tried really hard to ignore them and not be pissed off.
Nicky had not noticed earlier she had Iggy’s paper with her to pass to Mrs. Calunod all along. It was when she was shuffling the papers to return them back to their owner that she spotted his name.
His paper was clean and neat, his penmanship small and crisp, and he wrote in all capital letters. YNIGO JUMALON. He stared at his name for a moment. Then, her gaze dropped to the essay itself. She knew she shouldn’t read it, but she couldn’t help herself. It was about the bad and good effects of social networking. He mentioned something about Facebook. I can’t believe we weren’t friends in Facebook, yet, Nicky thought. She hadn’t added him up, yet. She wished he’d add her instead. She figured he wrote okay, but she thought he could have elaborated more on his points. Yet, she still was impressed. She liked the way his paper sounded—so straightforward, concise and blunt.
“Hey, my paper!” an urgent voice snapped her back to her senses. She thought it was Iggy. Her heart almost stopped. Holding her breath, she spun and met Red. He was one of the few who wore blue. But his shirt was of a lighter paler shade, with a portrait of The Beatles on front, so Nicky thought it wasn’t really blue.
She heaved a sigh of relief, as it was not Iggy. “You did your homework?” Nicky asked, her voice questioning.
“Yeah, sure.”
Nicky shuffled the papers, quickly placing Iggy’s at the bottom of the pile. She looked for Red Gonzales. She couldn’t see his paper. She looked again.
“Are you sure it’s in here?”
“Yeah. It’s that narrative assignment, right?”
Nicky stopped her search and looked up at him. “No, it isn’t. The narrative assignment had long been due last week. This is the argumentative essay.”
“What? Oh. I thought you were giving back the narrative assignment.”
“No. It had already been returned a few days ago. This is another assignment which I don’t think you even did.”
Red scratched the back of his head and grinned sheepishly. “I didn’t know we had another assignment. When was that due?”
“Suppose to be today but Ma’am decided to have it on Monday, instead. You still have time to do yours, then.” Nicky then gave Red a what-else-do-you-want look. How could anyone be so stupid? And yet, lucky! She thought.
“Nicky, what did ma’am say?” another voice erupted from behind her. She knew that warm, raspy voice too well. She turned and saw Iggy. She thought he looked good in a blue buttoned-down polo shirt over a gray printed tee. He wears blue! Nicky smiled at the thought. And Nicky couldn’t help but smile at him.
“What?” She then asked before she’d lose herself. Her voice was almost a whisper. It was then that she realized she was scoffing a while ago with Red after she heard her voice turned soft and low.
“Did she say to pass it on Monday, instead?”
“Yeah, she did.”
“I knew it. But I made my paper because I thought she really want us to pass it today. She really is nuts.”
“I think she’s having an Alzheimer,” Red butted in while Nicky was still thinking on what to reply to Iggy.
“Maybe she really is,” replied Iggy, his voice casual. “She’s always like this. She told us to do this and that, and then we’d be all up preparing for this sort of a project or play, and when we’d pass, or when we’d finally present, she’d say she hadn’t remembered giving us the assignment and all.
“I don’t even pass all my assignments. I even forgot we had one, now,” said Red. “When you had a forgetful teacher, you’ll also tend to be one.”
“Well, I try to remember everything she says,” Nicky finally managed to speak. Her voice still small and slow. “That way, I can remind her on the things she forgot.”
Iggy looked at her in a way that made her suddenly uncomfortable, like there was something wrong with her face. Not just my face. But with me, she thought grimly. She looked away from Iggy and saw Red trying to stifle a laugh. She wanted to whack Red’s head to keep him from snorting.
“You should have not, Nicky,” Iggy then said. “Let her forget and you’d spare us the hassle.”
“But—”
“I don’t think Mrs. Calunod even checks the papers,” Red interrupted.
Nicky was dumbfounded. She turned to Red and said, “What made you say that? Of course she checks the papers!” She had not realized she had raised her voice and looked panic-stricken until she saw the slight smile curving Iggy’s lips. I must have really looked ridiculous!
“For real, man?” Iggy turned to Red.
“Yeah,” Red replied. “I passed my assignments and they all had the same grades. I even put on some wrong spellings, som on purpose, and others, well, you know, and there weren’t any corrections when I got them back.”
“Now, that I think about it, maybe my papers hadn’t been corrected, too,” Iggy said. He looked thoughtful.
“That can’t be,” Nicky muttered in disbelief.
Red looked at her. “Why? You still don’t have corrections on your papers? You still always have 98 or 100 as your grade?”
Nicky looked away and thought on her papers and all the other assignments she had passed to Mrs. Calunod. But I worked so hard. I thought I deserve those grades. “That’s unfair,” she blurted gravely.
Red smiled knowingly. “It always is.”
“Can I have my paper, now, Nicky?” Iggy asked.
“Sure,” she replied as she riffled through the papers. She knew it was on the bottom of the pile but, she also knew she’d look weird if she’d hand it to him right then. She had to pretend to look for it. So, she looked for it.
It wasn’t there.
“Wait,” she said, trying to keep her composure and to make her voice even. Inside, she was starting to panic. “It was here.”
“What do you mean it was here? Is it gone?”
“I did not lose it. I had it here. I was looking at it a while ago,” she said as she kept on riffling through the papers.
“You were looking at it?”
“Yeah. I mean—no—I wasn’t reading it, I was checking whose papers I have with me, and I’m sure I had yours.”
“It just probably stuck on one of the other papers,” Red said. “You probably just missed it.”
And she really did miss it. It turned out it was flipped when she placed it on the bottom of the pile since she had been reading it front to back, so when she scanned for the names, she couldn’t see Iggy’s right then because the paper was flipped on the backside. “Here,” she said as soon as she found the paper. She immediately handed it to him.
“Thanks,” Iggy said as he got the paper and walked on.
Nicky wiped her brows.
“Why are you reading it, anyway?” Red then asked the moment Iggy was out of earshot.
“I wasn’t. I swear. I just wanna make sure that—” But Red was already walking away before she could even fully explain herself.
“—great!” She muttered under her breath.