Rejected.

Halos mapamura ako nang ganoon bumalik sa akin ang draft na ginawa ko para sa school newspaper. Nahihiya ko iyong ikinubli sa ilalim ng mga libro ko dahil mukhang ang mga kasama ko ay matagumpay na nakapagpasa ng mga entry nila. Ako lang ang hindi. Ako lang ang mukhang pinagsakluban ng langit at lupa, eh.

"Rhei? Kumusta ang sa'yo?" Si Jade iyon, mukhang masaya siya.

I assumed hers was accepted. Ngayon lang siya nagpasa pero tanggap agad. Ako? Pangatlong ulit ko na kaya nakakababa na ng kumpyansa. I sighed again, tiningala ko si Jade. Isa siya sa mga malalapit kong kaibigan dito sa school kaya kahit paano ay may tiwala naman akong hindi niya ako pagtatawanan sakaling ipakita ko sa kaniya ang resulta ng sa akin. Bukod pa sa hindi naman lihim sa kaniyang bagsak na ang dalawang nauna kong submission.

I reluctantly pulled out my rejected draft. "Here. Rejected. Again."

Inabot niya iyon tapos ay naupo sa tabi ko. Sandali niya pang inilipat ang mga pahina para ba suriin ang gawa ko. Hinayaan ko siya dahil baka mamaya ay may input siya na puwedeng makatulong sa akin.

"I don't even know what I'm getting wrong. They keep sending it back, but there's nothing specific. Just... rejected. Pang ilan na 'yan. Sana man lang ay naglagay na sila ng feedback. Hindi 'yung huhulaan ko pa kung ano at saan ako nagkakamali o nagkukulang."

"Hindi puwedeng panay ganito, Rhei." Nakikisimpatyang sabi niya. "You need an entry this month. If you don't get something in, they'll kick you out of the Journalism club. Pinalusot ka lang ni Benjamin noong nakaraan."

"I know," I groaned, dropping my head into my hands. "And I actually like the club. I don't want to be kicked out. Pinagbubutihan ko naman ang mga ginagawa ko, eh. Basahin mo. Maayos naman ang entry ko, ah? I put so much thought into that paper. Tapos ay ibabalik lang sa akin ng may pulang marka."

Jade sighed, putting the paper down. "Isn't it weird, though? Ricos keeps rejecting your entry."

Ricos.

Narinig ko pa lang ang pangalan niya ay iritado na ko agad. "Don't get me started on that guy,"

Ricos. The school's resident nerd, and the most arrogant one, too. Why wouldn't he be? He was a Santa de Leones, after all. His name alone could make him a god in this place. But no matter how high his pedigree, he was still the same Ricos who had a crush on me back in sixth grade—the same nerd who wore glasses so thick they looked like they were designed to blind him.

And he had the nerve to keep rejecting my work?

Akala ko ba crush niya ako? Eh, bakit niya ako pinahihirapan kung ganoon?

"He's probably just doing it to get under my skin," ako na rin ang sumagot sa sarili kong tanong dahil umiinit na naman ang ulo ko isipin ko pa lang ang nerd na iyon. "What does he know about journalism anyway? Alam kong matalino siya pero ni minsan ay wala naman akong nabasa na gawa niyang nailathala sa school papers. He's just a know-it-all with a complex."

Jade raised an eyebrow. "Sa tingin mo sinasadya niya ito? Like, he's holding a grudge or something?"

I scoffed. "Please. He has to get over himself. Just because he's a Santa de Leones doesn't mean I have to treat him like royalty. Hindi siya guwapo. Nerd siya. Kahit pa habulin niya ako ay bibilisan ko ang takbo ko huwag lang niyang maabutan. Crush niya ako kaya niya ginagawa 'to! Gumaganti pa rin siya sa pagpapahiya ko sa kaniya noon."

Jade laughed lightly. "Yeah, I remember that. Talagang inayawan mo siya noong elementary tayo. Pinagtawanan pa nga 'yan ng mga ka-batch natin dahil umasang isasayaw mo siya."

"Kasalanan niya 'yon! Hindi naman ako nagpakita ng motibo sa kaniya, ah? Siya itong malakas ang loob na ayain ako. Ano bang akala niya naman?" I rolled my eyes. "Can you imagine? Future prom queen dating the biggest nerd in school? That would've been social suicide. Yuck. Hindi ko gustong pag-usapan ako sa hindi kaaya-ayang paraan."

Jade smiled but gave me a look. "Well, maybe this is his way of getting back at you."

I sighed, rubbing my temples. "Maybe. But I just need to get this entry accepted, Jade. I can't let him be the reason I get kicked out of the club. If I have to, I'll rewrite the whole damn thing."

"Or," Jade said thoughtfully, "you could go and talk to him. Find out exactly why he's rejecting it."

I groaned. Alam kong may punto naman ang suhestyon na iyon ni Jade kaya lang ayaw kong makaharap ang Ricos Castañeda na iyon!

"Para malaman mo kung ano pa ba ang hinahanap niya sa gawa mo at hindi na masayang ang panahon mo sakaling uulitin mo ang papers mo, 'di ba?" Dagdag pa ni Jade.

I looked at her, my stomach churning at the thought. I wasn't exactly thrilled about the idea, but maybe, just maybe, it was the only way to fix this.

Iyon ang ginawa ko. Matapos ang huling klase ko sa araw na iyon ay dumiretso akong agad sa Editorial Office kung saan naghahari-harian si Ricos Castañeda. Hindi na ako nag-abalang kumatok dahil halos malukot na rin naman ang papel kong tinanggihan niya sa diin ng pagkakakapit ko roon. Sana lang talaga at hindi ko ito masampal sa kaniya pag napikon ako.

"Anong problema mo?" Iyon agad ang bungad ko sa kaniya nang mamataan siyang prenteng nakaupo sa likuran ng lamesa na para sa kaniya.

Ricos didn't even flinch. He glanced up at me from behind his laptop, his dark brown hair neatly trimmed, and his thick-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. His uniform was crisp and ironed, making him look every bit the model student he was rumored to be. Typical Ricos. Calm and unbothered.

Wala na akong pakialam kung may ibang mga estudyante roon na part rin ng organization. Sinugod ko si Ricos na abala sa mga ginagawa niya sa nakabukas na laptop.

"Bakit hindi mo ina-approve ang mga gawa ko, huh? Bakit ang sa iba ay tinatanggap mo naman? Ano? May hinanakit ka sa'kin?" Iritadong-iritado talaga ako.

Ricos, without a word, lifted his gaze to the others in the room. He didn't have to say anything—his look was enough. The students exchanged glances, packed up their things, and quietly left the room. Only then did he turn his attention back to me. Pero hindi pa rin sinagot ang tanong ko na akala mo'y wala siyang narinig. Kairita!

The room was silent, save for the faint sound of his fingers tapping on the keyboard. He didn't acknowledge me at first, didn't even bother to look up from his screen. It was like I didn't exist.

Kaya naman muli akong nagsalita dahil baka masampal ko na siya kapag hindi niya pa ako pinansin. "Why do you keep rejecting my paper?"

I clenched my fists, biting back the urge to scream.

Ricos didn't respond. He continued typing, ignoring me like I was a fly buzzing around him. Nauubusan na ako ng pasensya. Kaunti na lang at makakalimutan kong nasa school kami. Bigla na lang talaga akong makakapanakit.

"Ricos!" I barked, my frustration clear in every syllable. "I'm talking to you. Anong problema mo sa mga submission ko? Bakit panay mong nire-reject?"

Finally, he paused, fingers hovering over the keyboard. Nag-angat siya ng tingin sa akin sa unang pagkakataon na para bang ngayon niya lamang ako napansin kahit kanina pa ako nagdadabog dito sa harapan niya. For a second, I thought I saw the hint of a smirk. But it vanished as quickly as it appeared. Sumeryosong muli ang ayos niya.

"It's distasteful," he said, his voice flat, devoid of emotion. "And lacking."

His words were like a slap to the face. I blinked, momentarily thrown off by the raw honesty in his tone. It wasn't just the rejection—it was how easily he dismissed my work, how little it seemed to matter to him. Lalong umahon ang galit sa aking dibdib. Arogante talaga ang pangit na ito!

"Distasteful?" Iritado kong ulit, halos malukot na nga talaga ang papel na hawak ko. "What does that even mean?"

Anong klaseng rason kasi iyon? Bakit hindi niya man lang i-explain kung ano na naman ang kulang sa ginawa ko? Pangatlong submission ko na ito, ah? Bakit palaging rejected? Kung sana ay sinasabi niya ng maayos kung anong mali at hindi 'yung ganito siya kausap. Eh, 'di sana naaayos ko ang gawa ko at umaayon iyon sa kagustuhan niya!

Ricos leaned back in his chair, finally meeting my gaze. His eyes were sharp, analytical, and completely uninterested in my outburst. "It means your writing lacks depth. It's surface-level at best. There's no substance to it. You're trying too hard to impress without actually saying anything meaningful."

I felt a shiver run down my spine at the brutal honesty in his words. He wasn't just being mean for the sake of it. He meant every word. Kaya mas lalo akong nangliit na para bang ang bobo bobo ko pero ang lakas ng loob kong tumayo sa harapan ng isang henyo na kagaya niya.

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. "You think it's that bad?"

He didn't blink. "I don't think. I know."

I could feel my hands trembling, but I refused to let him see how much his words stung. I slammed the crumpled paper down on his desk, making a sharp thud that finally drew his full attention.

"Sige nga! Ipakita mo sa akin kung saan banda sa isinulat ko ang sinasabi mo. Ibinuhos ko ang lahat ng alam ko para lang maisulat iyan. So..." I snapped. "Show me exactly where it's so 'distasteful.'"

Ricos still didn't flinch at my anger. He calmly set his laptop aside, taking the paper and straightening it as though he had all the time in the world. His fingers skimmed the edges before he began flipping through the pages, his expression calm but clinical. Finally, he stopped at a specific section and tapped his finger against the paragraph.

"Here," he said coldly, pointing to a block of text. "This part where you criticized the school's drives for the year."

Sandali akong natigilan, iniisip ng husto kung anong problema niya doon? "Anong mali sa mga sinabi ko? Totoo naman ang lahat ng 'yan, ah! Did I lie? Hindi naman, ah! I was being honest, Ricos."

"Being honest doesn't mean being biased," Ricos retorted, his tone sharp. "You're not writing an opinion piece, Rhea. This was supposed to be an unbiased report on the school's efforts. But instead, you made it personal."

I crossed my arms, a bit defensive. Sakit ko na ito, medyo hirap akong tumanggap ng mga mali ko. Ilang beses na nga ba akong napangaralan ni Papa tungkol dito. Hindi ko na mabilang. "I didn't say anything that wasn't true. The drives were poorly planned. The students were disorganized, and most of the donations didn't even reach the people they were supposed to help. Anong gusto mo, Ricos? Magsinungaling ako?"

Ricos' eyes darkened as he fixed me with a cold stare. "It's not your job to criticize like that, not in a report. You're supposed to inform, not judge. And if you had genuine concerns about how the drives were being handled, you should've raised them before they happened, not waited until you could pounce on their failures just to make your article more 'interesting.'"

I felt the sting of his words, my pride taking a hit. "I wasn't pouncing on anything. I was pointing out the mistakes they made so it doesn't happen again. Inaakusahan mo ba akong nambabatikos lang para may maisulat, huh? Ganoon ba ang tingin mo sa gawa ko? Mabuti ang intensyon ko, Ricos!"

He leaned forward, his gaze never leaving mine. "That's not what it reads like. What you wrote here, it's more than just pointing out mistakes. You waited until things fell apart, then used that as ammunition to make yourself look clever. It's not only lacking in integrity, but it's unethical and, frankly, pathetic."

I clenched my fists, the insult hitting hard. Nakakarami ka na, ah! "Pathetic? You think my work is pathetic?"

Ricos didn't back down. "Depending on the destruction of others to make your writing stand out is pathetic. You didn't offer solutions. You didn't provide insight on how things could be better. You just picked at the failures of others and framed it as some kind of insightful criticism. If you really cared about the drives or the people they were meant to help, you would've gotten involved, spoken up before it was too late. But you didn't. Anong ginawa mo? Ginawan mo ng kuwento."

His words were brutally honest, cutting through my defenses like a blade. I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out. He was right. I had written the article with the intent to criticize, but not to help. It was easier to point out what was wrong after the fact than to offer any real input beforehand.

Ricos sat back, his expression still cold but now with a hint of finality. "That's why I rejected your piece, Rhea. It's not because I have a problem with you. It's because your writing lacks the one thing that matters most—integrity. Kung tatanggapin ko 'yan, ano na lang ang magiging tingin ng mga mambabasa sa school papers natin?"

Iritang irita na ako sa kaniya pero hindi pa rin ako sumuko. Deep down, I still believed his rejection had more to do with personal reasons than any editorial integrity.

"Is this still about what happened back in sixth grade?" I blurted out, my frustration boiling over. "Masama pa rin ba ang loob mo sa akin dahil tinawag kitang nerd noong sinubukan mo akong isayaw sa birthday ni Janina? Mag move on ka na! Grade six pa tayo noon!"

At totoo lang rin naman ang sinabi ko, eh. Hanggang ngayon nga ay nerd parin siya.

Ricos raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. He scoffed.

"You seriously think that's why I rejected your article?" His voice was calm, but I could hear the faintest hint of mocking amusement. He leaned back in his chair, shaking his head slightly. "Hindi ko na nga maaalala 'yan kung hindi mo binanggit."

I frowned, my irritation flaring up even more. "Crush mo ko! Napahiya ka noon kaya ka ganyan sa akin ngayon! Umamin ka na! Tayong dalawa lang naman ang narito. Nahiya ka pa!"

Ricos smirked, his gaze turning cold again. "Honestly? I don't remember that. And considering I have an eidetic memory, it's kind of impressive that I forgot something so... trivial."

That hit a nerve. I bit my lip, unsure if I was more embarrassed or angry. He wasn't just brushing off my accusation—he was mocking me for thinking it even mattered. My pride took a hit again. Nakakarami na talaga siya sa akin ngayon.

"God, Ricos, I need this article to be approved!" I blurted out, my desperation starting to seep through. Kahit anong galit ang maramdaman ko sa kaniya ngayon ay hindi noon maiaalis ang katotohanan na kailangan kong tanggapin niya ito, kundi ay matatanggal na talaga ako sa club. "Is there anything I can do? Would you approve it if I... I don't know, agreed to go on a date with you?"

Iyon ba ang gusto niya? Lahat naman sa school ay may gusto sa akin. Siya rin naman, 'di ba? Hanggang ngayon siguro kaya siya nagkakaganyan. Hindi na siya talo sa offer ko. Tutuksuhin ako malamang ng mga kaibigan ko. Syempre, nerd itong si Ricos. Ang madalas na pinapatulan ko ay iyong mga member ng dance troupe o kaya school varsity. Kung iisipin nga ay wala pa akong naging boyfriend na panlaban sa quiz bee. Siya pa lang kung sakali. But damn! Hindi ko siya gagawing boyfriend. Date lang! Isa o dalawang beses. Bahala na! Basta ang mahalaga ay i-approve niya itong paper ko.

Shit. Kakailanganin ko pang makipag-break kay Darius kung magkataon because I don't two time! Ngayon pa lang ay nag-iisip na ako ng idadahilan ko sa kaniya.

His eyes flicked to mine, and for a moment, there was silence between us. Then, to my absolute horror, Ricos smirked. It wasn't a kind smirk either—it was the kind that made my skin crawl like he knew exactly how uncomfortable I was.

"Tempting," he said, his voice smooth and annoyingly calm. "But nah." He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the desk. "You want my approval? Give me a better article. Not some garbage like this."

I clenched my fists at my sides, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. "Garbage?"

"Yes, garbage," he repeated, his tone blunt. "If you want to stay in the club, write something that actually matters. Something with depth, with real journalism, not this half-baked hit piece."

Ilang gabi ko iyong pinagpuyatan gawin tapos tatawagin niya lang na basura? I stood there, fuming, feeling like I'd hit a wall. Hindi lang iyon ang sumasagi sa aking damdamin. It wasn't just about the paper anymore. No, the sting ran deeper.

This wasn't just about him rejecting my article. He had rejected me. Again.

Damn this nerd.

"I worked hard on that piece. I spent nights making sure it was perfect. And you're calling it garbage like it's nothing!"

"Wala naman akong sinabi na hindi mo pinaghirapan, Rhea. I'm saying the work itself isn't good enough. Hard work doesn't automatically equal quality." Kalmado pa rin niyang sabi kahit na alam niyang kaunti na lang ay masasapak ko na siya.

I felt like I was about to explode. The worst part was that he wasn't even yelling back at me. He was so cold, so detached. Like I wasn't worth the effort of raising his voice.

"That's easy for you to say," I snapped. "Everything comes easy to you, doesn't it? You've always had everything—perfect grades, a perfect reputation, even this stupid editorial position. You don't know what it's like to have to fight for something."

Ricos's eyes darkened slightly, and for a brief second, I thought I saw something flicker behind his stoic facade. But it disappeared just as quickly as it came. He stood up from behind his desk, his tall frame looming over me, and he walked around until he was standing just a few feet away.

"You think I haven't had to fight for anything?" His voice was low, calm, but there was an edge to it now. "Just because I don't wear my struggles on my sleeve doesn't mean they aren't there."

I narrowed my eyes at him, still seething. "Right. You, Ricos Anton Santa de Leones-Castañeda, the perfect nerd with everything handed to him on a silver platter. What could you possibly have to fight for? Huwag mo nga kong lokohin, Ricos."

His jaw tightened, and I could tell he was holding back something, but instead of arguing, he gave me a small, bitter smile. "You think you know me, huh?"

"I know enough. I rejected you back then, and you're rejecting me now. Hindi mo matanggap na ayaw ko sa'yo dahil nerd ka! Kaya ngayon gumaganti ka, 'di ba? Kaya lahat ng submission nila ay tinanggap mo. Sa akin lang ang hindi!"

He let out a short, humorless laugh, shaking his head. "Paulit-ulit ka na lang. Nasabi ko na sa'yo ang rason kung bakit hindi pasado sa akin ang gawa mo."

I stood there, seething, but he just sighed, his calm demeanor only stoking my anger further.

"I suggest you spend your time revising your piece, hindi 'yung kung anu-ano ang iniisip mo," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Resubmit it, and we'll see from there."

I felt like a balloon slowly deflating, the fire inside me dimming but still simmering. He was so sure of himself, so utterly confident that he was right and that I was just being ridiculous. The worst part was, I knew I wasn't entirely wrong. Part of me still believed he was holding onto something—whether he admitted it or not.

But before I could muster up another argument, Ricos walked past me, heading to the door.

He opened it, glancing over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. "I've got things to do, Rhea. Things that actually matter. So, if you don't mind..."

It was a dismissal. A cold, cutting dismissal.

Ang kapal ng mukha ng nerd na ito.

My pride screamed at me to stand my ground, to throw his arrogance right back in his face, but the rational part of me knew there was no point. Not now, not at this moment. So I bit my lip, swallowing the bitter taste of defeat. I could feel the heat in my cheeks, both from anger and embarrassment.

Padabog kong kinuhang muli ang papers ko na nasa lamesa pa rin niya.

"Bitter ka lang talaga dahil wala akong gusto sa'yo!"

"Believe what you want," balewala niyang sabi. His voice was annoyingly calm as he leaned against the doorframe. "Just make sure your next draft doesn't suck."

I stopped in my tracks and turned, my fists clenched at my sides. "Akala mo talaga kung sino kang magaling, huh? You think you're so much better than everyone else, don't you? Just because you're the editor, just because you're a Santa de Leones."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unbothered. "I don't need to think I'm better. I know the standard, and I'm not lowering it for anyone. Not even for you."

I let out a frustrated breath, storming toward the door. "Ang pangit mo, Ricos! Sobrang pangit mo!"

The words tumbled out before I could stop them. They were petty, childish, but at that moment, I didn't care. I just wanted to hit him where it hurt. Except... they didn't hit him. Not at all. Ricos didn't even flinch. He simply raised an eyebrow, that smug smirk still plastered on his face, as if he knew exactly what I was doing.

I didn't give him the satisfaction of seeing me falter. I marched out of the room, slamming the door behind me. My footsteps were heavy, echoing in the hallway as I headed straight for the bathroom. There was no way I was going downstairs to meet my driver in this state. He'd take one look at me and see right through the facade I was desperately trying to keep up.

Baka mamaya ay isumbong pa ako kay Papa at mag-aalala pa iyon sa akin. Wala naman kailangang ikabahala.

I practically burst into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I took a deep breath and leaned over the sink, gripping the sides as if steadying myself could somehow hold the rest of me together.

I lied. I lied, alright. Ricos wasn't ugly. In fact, he wasn't ugly at all. He might've been a nerd, but he wasn't the awkward kid with thick glasses and untucked shirts anymore. Now he was tall, sharp-jawed, and way more composed than any high school student had a right to be. It pissed me off that I'd noticed. It pissed me off even more that he knew I'd noticed.

"Ugh, dammit," I muttered under my breath, glaring at my reflection in the mirror. I was flushed, my cheeks still burning with anger and frustration. Tahasan niya akong tinanggihan at paulit-ulit pa sa loob lamang ng isang araw. Wala pang gumagawa sa akin noon. Siya pa lang!

I splashed cold water on my face, trying to cool the heat that had risen to my skin. But it wasn't working. No amount of water could wash away the humiliation of what had just happened. Ricos wasn't just insufferable—he was right. He saw right through me, tore apart my work with brutal honesty, and didn't flinch while doing it.

Why did it bother me so much? Why did his opinion matter more than it should? I shook my head, gripping the edge of the sink even tighter.

"Get it together, Rhea," I muttered to myself. "He's just a nerd. He's just a nerd."

But that wasn't true either. He wasn't just a nerd anymore. He was in control, confident, unflinching in the way he carried himself. It was like he had grown into his own skin, and somehow, that made him more infuriating. He didn't even care what I thought of him, not anymore.

"Dammit, Ricos. You're not even ugly."

Ang buong gabi ay inubos ko sa pag-ulit ng article ko. Husto akong tinamaan sa mga sinabi ni Ricos sa akin kanina kaya talagang tinutukan ko iyon, inayos ko para naman may maisampal ako sa kaniya sa susunod.

I was deep into my revisions when my phone rang, jolting me out of my concentration. Sinilip ko iyon at nakita ang pangalan ni Darius. I sighed, hesitating for a moment before picking up. Hindi ko sana gusto dahil ayaw ko ng distraction, kaya lang... Kanina ko pa hindi pinapansin ang mga text niya.

"Hey, babe," Darius said, his voice cheerful and carefree as usual. "What's up? Labas tayo? Saglit lang. Kahit sa High Street lang saglit. Samgyupsal? O kahit anong gusto mo."

I bit my lip, glancing at my laptop screen, my fingers still hovering over the keyboard. "Hindi ako puwede ngayon, Darius. Sinabi ko na sa'yo kanina, may kailangan akong tapusin. I need to rewrite my paper."

He sighed on the other end, the disappointment clear in his voice. "Come on, Rhea. Just for a bit. Noong nakaraan ka pa busy diyan, hanggang ngayon ay 'yan pa rin ang pinagkakaabalahan mo. Miss na kita."

"I'm sorry, I really can't," I insisted. "I have to get this done. It's important."

"What's so important about this paper anyway?" he asked, his tone turning slightly annoyed. "Ilang gabi nang puro 'yan ang inaasikaso mo, ah?"

"It's just... it's for the Journalism club," I said, not wanting to explain the whole story. I knew Darius wouldn't understand why I was so worked up over an article. He never did. He cared more about parties and hanging out than anything else. Para sa kaniya ay balewala lang ito. "I need to make it perfect."

Darius groaned. "Babe, it's just one article. You're already on the cheer team and part of like, a million other things. Why are you stressing over this? Ano kung mawala ka sa Journalism club na 'yan. Hindi naman mahalaga 'yan."

"Mahalaga sa akin ito, Darius." Mariin kong sabi, hindi ko gustong mag-away kami pero kung tatagal pa ang usapan ay malamang doon nga mauwi. "Kailangan ko itong tapusin kaya ikaw na lang ang lumabas kung gusto mo."

There was a pause on the other end, and I could almost see him rolling his eyes.

"Fine, whatever," he muttered. "But you owe me, alright? We have to make an appearance together soon, or people are gonna start talking. Baka isipin na ng mga lalaki sa school ay single ka at puwede kang pormahan."

I felt a flash of irritation, but I swallowed it down. That was Darius. He cared about appearances more than anything else. Honestly, we both did. That was why we were together in the first place. He was the basketball team captain, and I was a cheerleader, a journalist, and a well-known face in almost every school org. We were the couple people looked up to, the ones everyone talked about. But outside of that, we didn't really have much in common. I couldn't even remember the last time I genuinely wanted to hang out with him.

"Yeah, sure," sabi ko na lang para matapos na ang usapan. "We'll do something soon. I promise."

"Alright," he said, sounding slightly mollified. "I'll let you get back to your paper or whatever. Don't work too hard."

"I won't," I replied, though we both knew that was a lie. "Bye, Darius."

Pinutol ko nang agad ang tawag bago pa siya may sabihing muli. Binalikan ko ang aking ginagawa at doon itinuon ang buong atensyon ko. I tossed my phone onto the bed, running a hand through my hair. As much as Darius's patience—or lack thereof—should've bothered me, it didn't. Not really. I had bigger things to worry about. This article wasn't just about staying in the journalism club. It was about proving myself, and, if I were honest, getting back at Ricos. This time, he wasn't going to reject it.

I took a deep breath and refocused, the keys clicking under my fingers as I crafted what I hoped would be my best work yet.

"Let's see what you'll say to this one, Castañeda," I muttered to myself.

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