SECRET LOVER'S SECRETS

Flora Amor felt like she was floating on clouds as she walked toward her first class that morning. She didn’t even notice the students she passed by, most of them glued to their smartphones. She glanced at the construction site beside their building. Dixal hadn’t called her yet—maybe he wasn’t there.

Inside the classroom, Anton was nowhere in sight. Strange. He was rarely absent. Mariel, on the other hand, was too absorbed with her phone to even notice her. Quietly, Flora Amor sat down and slid her bag under the chair. The smile on her lips wouldn’t fade. She longed to hear again the way her boyfriend whispered her name. Every time his voice reached her ears, her skin tingled and her first kiss came rushing back to her memory. She hoped that kiss had been his first, too.

She giggled to herself.

“Hey, Beshie! You’re here already,” Mariel finally noticed.

“What’s with your phone? You’ve been staring at it since earlier.”

Mariel quickly moved beside her and shoved the screen in her face. “Look at this, Beshie. Phoebe’s gang went viral.”

“Huh? Viral? What do you mean?” Flora Amor asked, puzzled.

The video showed what had happened last night—Phoebe and her clique bullying Megan. Flora Amor’s eyes widened in shock, but her mind buzzed with a single question: Why am I not in the video? It only showed Megan getting beaten.

“Wait—who took this video?” she asked, curious.

“No one knows. But Beshie, the university suspended Phoebe for a month—even if she’s the Dean’s daughter! And her friends? They were transferred to another section and suspended for three months,” Mariel reported eagerly.

Flora Amor frowned. Who had recorded it? As far as she knew, aside from herself, only two other students had been there last night. No one else had passed by that area.

“And Megan? How is she?” She asked again.

“She’s in the hospital so she can recover faster. The school is covering all her medical expenses.”

“Ohhh.” Flora Amor leaned back, her mind racing. Who could have taken the video? Whoever it was must have done it when she was walking toward the group—right when Phoebe and her friends all turned to look in one direction. That had been the moment they noticed her. But who was behind it?

She was lost in thought when Anton suddenly entered the room, grabbed her hand, and pulled her out into the hallway. He pressed her against the wall.

She was too shocked to speak.

“Who are you dating?” he demanded furiously.

“Huh?” She blinked at him, her face blank. Dating? What is he talking about? And why is he so angry?

“And how many times have I told you to stay away from danger? Do you know I couldn’t sleep last night, worrying what happened to you?” His voice shook with anger, but beneath it was raw concern.

Flora Amor couldn’t respond. His words didn’t sink in right away. But when they finally did, her eyes flew wide.

“You followed me last night?!” she burst out. She glanced around nervously before continuing. “You’re the one who filmed Phoebe’s group and spread it on F******k?” Her tone carried disbelief, but also an edge of accusation.

“Well, it wasn’t me!” he snapped, glaring at her. “Look, Flor. It’s fine if you don’t care about my existence. But you dating some damn stranger? I can’t take that anymore!” His voice cracked with frustration, his eyes glistening with anger and pain.

“Huh?” Her mind went blank again. Was he angry because she had nearly been in danger last night—or because he had seen…

Her lips parted. The thought that struck her made her chest tighten. She didn’t want to believe it.

“You’ve been following me?” Her brows furrowed.

Anton fell silent.

“Since when? Since when have you been stalking me?” she demanded, her voice sharp. “Don’t tell me you even watch me outside my own house?”

His face paled.

“You have no right to track my every move! To watch me like that!” Her words lashed out, heavy with disbelief.

Anton’s expression softened. He reached for her shoulders. “Look, Flor. It’s not what you think—”

“Take your hands off me!” she shouted, shoving him away.

“Flor, listen to me. I’m just concerned for you. You don’t know how cruel this world is. I don’t want you to get hurt. You’re my best friend.” His voice lowered, desperate for her to understand.

Flora Amor trembled, torn between anger and hurt. She wanted to slap him, to hit him with her bag again and again until he felt her fury. But instead, she turned away and stormed back into the classroom.

“What happened, Beshie?” Mariel asked, having rushed outside when she heard the shouting.

Flora Amor collapsed into her chair, crossing her arms tightly. Her mind spun. What else has Anton done behind my back? Was he involved in Ellise transferring schools? Was that his doing? She shook her head hard. No. That must’ve been Megan’s parents. Not Anton.

Maybe he had only followed her because he was worried. Maybe he had even seen Dixal.

Was he jealous?

She quickly shook off the thought. Anton wasn’t the type to get jealous over just anyone. He was kind—he didn’t even have enemies.

But what if he is jealous… because he feels something for me?

Flora Amor’s heart twisted. She dismissed the idea again. They were just best friends. He probably treated her this way because he had no siblings and saw her as family. Still… her heart whispered otherwise.

“Damn it!” she hissed, kicking the chair in front of her. Luckily, it was unoccupied.

“Amor, where are you, sweetie?”

She jumped at the sound of Dixal’s voice. In an instant, her gloomy expression melted into light. She stood, eager to catch even a glimpse of him, but at that moment Anton walked back in with Mariel. His sharp eyes pinned her in place, forcing her to sit back down. She couldn’t let him know that the “stranger” he mentioned was right nearby. She would just have to bear the ache of not seeing Dixal.

Their professor entered next—along with someone who made Flora Amor’s stomach drop.

The Dean? Phoebe’s mother?

Panic spread through her chest. Did Phoebe report what happened last night?

Her classmates quickly stashed away their phones and fixed themselves in their seats. The professor greeted the newcomers respectfully. Flora Amor clutched Anton’s arm, terrified as the Dean’s piercing gaze swept over the room and landed squarely on her. Her knees buckled. What if she came closer? What if she hurt her?

Anton placed an arm around her shoulders and squeezed her arm gently. Flora Amor shut her eyes as the woman’s footsteps drew nearer.

“Good morning, Mrs. Manalastas!”

“Good morning, sir!”

“Good morning, Mr. Diaz!”

Anton’s father?!

Flora Amor’s eyes flew open. Yes—it was Anton’s father. And with him, the university president. Why were they here?

Anton’s father scanned the class, and when his gaze found her, he smiled warmly.

“Please excuse us, Mrs. Manalastas,” the university president said. “I have some important matters to discuss with Mrs. Domingo.”

“Yes, of course. Go ahead, sir,” their professor replied.

Relief washed over Flora Amor as the three left. Her classmates broke into whispers. She released Anton’s arm, tapped his hand off her, and straightened in her seat. Her anger at him still lingered.

But the bigger question gnawed at her: why had the university president suddenly come with Anton’s father, right when the Dean was present?

She sighed, thinking of Dixal. He had called her name only once today. Maybe he was busy at work.

After her last class that afternoon, she decided to hide out in the library to avoid both Anton and Mariel’s inevitable questions about the morning’s commotion. But Mariel found her anyway, dragging Anton by the arm, his brows still furrowed.

“Beshie, please. Make up with each other already. I can’t stand seeing you fight,” Mariel pleaded.

Flora Amor only rolled her eyes. But then Mariel suddenly burst into tears, loud enough to draw stares from passing students.

“Hey, what are you doing? Stop crying, you’re embarrassing me!” Flora Amor scolded.

“Wahhh! Make up already!” Mariel cried louder.

“Fine, okay!” Flora Amor muttered, frowning. “But tell your bestie here not to follow me around anymore.”

“Bakla, just say yes already, please,” Mariel begged Anton between sobs.

When he didn’t answer, she wailed even louder.

“Stop that!” Flora Amor snapped. “Okay then—tell him I won’t go to your party tomorrow if he doesn’t agree.”

In just three steps, Anton was in front of her. He grabbed both her arms firmly.

“Flor, trust me. You have to trust me. I’m doing this for your own good,” his voice pleaded.

“You will stop following me,” she said firmly, locking eyes with him.

He punched the air in frustration, then rubbed his face with his palm. Finally, after a long moment, he exhaled and nodded, though he looked away.

A smile tugged at her lips. Just like that, her doubts about him seemed to dissolve.

“Yes!” Mariel cheered, quickly wiping her face. “See? I knew you’d make up. You two made me cry for nothing.”

Flora Amor smacked her arm. “You’re unbelievable, Beshie! That was all an act?”

Mariel laughed, throwing an arm around both of them. “Now, no more fights, okay? If you do it again, I’ll cry for real!”

“You’re so dramatic,” Flora Amor muttered, rolling her eyes.

As they walked together, she fell in step beside Anton. “Beshie, we’re good now, right? Just don’t follow me anymore, okay?” She held onto his arm, flashing him a playful smile.

He only glanced at her, lips tight.

“Beshie… don’t sulk, please?” she coaxed sweetly.

“No more secrets,” he said.

She nodded quickly.

“Who is he?” he asked.

Her heart skipped. For a moment, her mind went blank. Then she whispered, “My first love.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she ducked her head, too embarrassed to notice the storm of anger darkening Anton’s face.

“Anyway,” Mariel cut in, “tomorrow, both of you have to come to my place so we can all head to the party together.”

Anton simply nodded. Flora Amor, however, glanced again toward the construction site. Dixal was no longer there. His voice had not called her name again.

Had he gone home already?

“What time is the party again?” Mariel asked.

“Six in the evening,” Flora Amor replied.

“Perfect. We can still slip in tomorrow,” said Mariel.