AM I BEING MONITORED?

"Dixal, why does your house look so old from the outside?” Flora Amor asked curiously as they drove home.

The young man smiled.

“So no one would be interested in going in,” he replied, eyes still on the road.

“I stay there whenever I have a lot of work to finish. No distractions,” he added, glancing briefly at her.

“Oh.”

“And Lemuel, is he your co-worker too?” she asked again, eyes fixed on him.

“He’s the project manager of the building going up at your school.”

“Ohh, so he’s your boss. No wonder he scolded you earlier for skipping work.”

The corner of his lips tugged into a smile, but he didn’t bother answering. Instead, he playfully pinched her nose. She smiled back.

“Dixal,” she called after a moment.

“Hm?”

Suddenly, his phone rang in his pocket. He reached for the earphones inside the small box in front of the car.

“Yes?” he said, brows drawn as he flicked her a glance.

“What?” she asked in confusion.

“Nothing. Just nothing,” he replied, shaking his head, and she couldn’t tell if he was talking to her or the person on the phone.

She fell silent, turning her gaze to the window.

“I’m here. It’s just that I’m busy right now. Call me later, okay?” he said into the earphones before ending the call and taking it off.

Her chest tightened with questions she wanted to ask—who was it?—but she swallowed them down. She didn’t want him think she was nosy… or worse, jealous. Instead, she kept her eyes fixed outside.

“We’re almost at your stop,” he said after a while.

Her nerves stirred. She gripped the seatbelt. What would happen once she got home? What if her mother lashed out again? What if another fight broke out?

A sudden sting ran across her back. She winced, reaching to rub it.

“Something wrong?” Dixal asked, catching her grimace in a sideways glance.

“It hurts,” she admitted.

He pulled the car over to the side and gently lifted her blouse at the back.

“What the—” he gasped.

“What happened here?” His brows furrowed in alarm.

“H-huh? Oh, I just bumped into our little table earlier,” she stammered. She couldn’t bring herself to tell him the truth about what happened at home. Quickly, she tugged her blouse down.

“It’s nothing. Just a bruise,” she said with a forced smile.

“You sure?” His voice was thick with worry.

“Yes, it’s fine.”

He didn’t press further. With a quiet sigh, he started the car again. Silence stretched between them until finally he slowed to a stop.

“We’re here,” he said.

They were parked by the church.

She unclipped her seatbelt and opened the door.

“I’ll head home now. Take care on your way back,” she said.

He nodded. She was about to step out when she paused and turned to him.

“Wait… how did you even know this is where I usually stop?”

“I followed you once, the first time we met at school,” he admitted.

Her lips parted. “Ahh…”

She slipped out of the car, closed the door behind her. She waved before crossing the street.

“We first met at school…” she echoed absentmindedly, his words circling in her head.

But wait. At school? From what she remembered, they first met at SM Fairview, then later that afternoon he dropped her off by this same church. So… had he seen her at school before that? Fallen for her at first sight and followed her home?

The thought sent a thrill rushing through her, and she turned back to glance at his car still parked by the church. A soft giggle escaped her. He was still watching her, as if walking her home with his eyes.

Her heart tugged with a sudden regret. She should’ve kissed him before leaving the car.

She was still lost in her giddy thoughts when she turned down a corner. About to step off the curb, an arm suddenly wrapped over her shoulders, gripping tightly to keep her still—

A motorcycle sped past, brushing the spot she would’ve stepped into.

She clung to the body beside her.

“I don’t really trust you crossing the street,” a familiar voice muttered.

“Dixal!”

“Tsk, tsk. Where does your head go when you’re walking?” he scolded, annoyance laced his tone.

“On you,” she blurted.

He froze, caught off guard by her answer, then turned away with a half-hidden smile. When he faced her again, his expression was serious.

“Be careful, okay? What if I hadn’t followed you? You’d be lying on the road by now.”

She lowered her gaze, cheeks burning. Why did her thoughts keep wandering like that?

“Don’t walk me home anymore. I promise I’ll be careful,” she said quietly.

“Hey. Careful, okay?”

She lifted her head and nodded with a small smile. Only then did he let go.

She looked both ways before crossing, then turned to wave once she was on the other side. He waved back before walking away.

She watched until he disappeared from view, then resumed her walk. But just as she turned the next street, someone grabbed her hand firmly.

“Dix—” The happy smile on her face faltered when she found Anton standing in front of her instead.

“Where have you been?” His voice was sharp.

“What are you doing here?” she shot back, brows knitting.

She pulled her hand free and started walking.

“It’s late. What are you doing out here?”

“I went to your house this morning, but they said you weren’t home. So I came back this afternoon. Your mom’s worried sick—you didn’t take your bag, you don’t have money.” His words tumbled fast as he walked alongside her.

“I do have money. It’s in my skirt pocket,” she replied casually.

“Why didn’t you just bring your bag?”

She stopped, facing him.

“Why do I have to?”

He dragged his hand down his face in frustration.

“Flor, we’ve been searching for you all day! Your mother hasn’t stopped crying, afraid something terrible happened!”

Passersby glanced at them.

“She’s the one who told me to leave. Why would she even look for me? And this isn’t the first time I’ve come home late—what’s the big deal?” Her voice edged with irritation. “And why do you care so much where I go?”

He fell silent, stunned.

Brows drawn, she resumed walking. Anton’s behavior had been bothering her for days. Why was he suddenly so intrusive? Did she owe him an account of her every move?

It didn’t add up. Her mother, who earlier had practically thrown her out, was suddenly making a scene about her not bringing her bag? Something wasn’t right.

“Flor, you don’t get it. You don’t know how dangerous Manila is. You don’t know where to go if you get lost. You don’t have money. What if something happens? Where would we even find you?”

“I’m not a child, Anton! Stop treating me like one. I’m a grown woman. I know what I’m doing!” she snapped, quickening her pace.

“Flor, please, just listen—” He reached for her arm.

“Don’t touch me!” she yanked away, striding faster. People around them stared.

“Flor, I’m sorry. I was just worried. We’ve been looking everywhere. I even kept checking your school all day, but you weren’t there,” his voice softened, surrendering.

She kept her silence until they reached her house. Only then did she face him again.

“Don’t you ever worry about me that much again. You forget your place in my life,” she said coldly.

“Flora Amor! Anak!”

Her mother burst out of the house and threw her arms around her. Neighbors peeked from their windows, watching the scene unfold.

Flora Amor gently guided her mother inside.

“Where did you go? Why didn’t you bring your bag?” her mother asked between sobs.

She sat her down on the sofa and held her hands.

“I’m fine, Ma. I’m home now. Please, don’t cry anymore.”

Her siblings came out of their rooms, all except Harold.

“Ate, where did you go?” Maureen asked, stepping closer.

She glanced at Anton lingering by the door before stammering, “I—I was with a friend.”

“Maybe we should get Flor a cellphone,” her father suggested, cradling the youngest in his arms. “So she can call in case of an emergency.”

“Pa!” She lit up, hugging him.

“I even tried to catch up to you earlier, but you were gone so fast,” she said smiling.

Her parents exchanged looks.

“Anton, sorry for troubling you all day. And thank you for helping us look for Flor,” her mother said gratefully.

“It’s nothing, Auntie,” Anton replied with a faint smile.

“Hey, Beshie. What I told you earlier, remember? Don’t worry about me too much. I can take care of myself.” Even with her irritation, she still managed to tease him.

He only nodded blankly, and she felt a pang of guilt. She reached out, playfully hit his arm.

“Next time, just relax, okay? Don’t panic so you won’t end up yelling.”

He scowled, and she laughed, squeezing his arm.

“Sorry, Beshie. I know you’re only worried about me. Peace, okay?” she coaxed sweetly.

His glare softened into a reluctant smile.

“It’s only with you that I’m like this. I can’t stand it when you’re out of sight.”

She chuckled. “Maybe I should move into your house then, live with your dad, so we’ll always be together.”

But his face turned serious at that.

“Have you eaten, Beshie?” she asked quickly, brushing it off.

“Pa, have you eaten yet?” she asked her father too.

“Not yet. We’ve been too distracted looking for you,” he replied.

“I’ll eat at home, Uncle,” Anton cut in, excusing himself. He didn’t wait for her to walk him out, leaving as soon as he saw things were fine.

Her mother frowned. “He’s been here since morning, calling everyone he knew just to find you, and you can’t even see him off?”

She bit her lip. Her mother wasn’t wrong. She stepped outside to follow him—only to freeze when she saw him speaking with two men under the glow of the streetlamp. Their faces seemed oddly familiar, though she couldn’t recall from where. Maybe neighbors she rarely noticed because she was always at school?

She let him go and returned inside.

“Where did you really go, anak? Anton said you didn’t have class today,” her mother asked again as they ate dinner.

Flora Amor only smirked, her cheeks flushed.

Her mother’s eyes widened, realizing what she meant.

“What is it, Ma?” her father asked suspiciously.

Panicked, she grabbed a fried eggplant from the dish and placed it on her mother’s plate.

“You should eat more eggplant, Ma. It’s good for you,” she said, widening her eyes meaningfully.

“Ha! That trick won’t work on me,” her mother muttered, rolling her eyes.

Flora Amor. laughed.

“Anak, isn’t Anton courting you? He was worried about you like a boyfriend today. Maybe he really is,” her father suggested.

“No, Pa!” she blurted quickly.

“He’s just my best friend. He’s like a brother to me. That’s impossible.”

“Good. I don’t want you dating right now. It’ll only distract you from your studies.”

“Yes, Pa,” she murmured, feigning busyness with her food.

She snuck a glance at Harold beside her. He ate in silence, as did the others.

“Ma, what time did Anton come here?” she asked casually.

“Since morning. He only left just now. He even had lunch here while waiting,” her mother replied.

Her eyes narrowed. Earlier, Anton had said he came back in the afternoon. Why lie over something so small? Was he hiding something?

Or… was he following her again?

Her stomach twisted at the thought. Following her? Why?

“Anak, forgive us for earlier,” her father said after a pause. “Your mother and brother just misunderstood each other. But it’s settled now. Don’t worry anymore.”

“Yes, Pa. Just promise you’ll always be here every day… so I won’t miss you,” she answered softly.

“Ah, sure,” he said uncertainly, casting his wife a glance.