Chapter 7

Ling      

There was much whispering around the lone, long, round table the school faculty prepared for this rarest occasion: a sponsor's visit. The talk wasn't about the chicken adobo prepared by Mrs. Carpio, the school principal, or why my father was giving the meanest glare to kuya Ronny. Everyone, including the young teen girls of the high school department, were staring and talking about the sponsor.

            Yes, Mr. Villafuerte was the sponsor. That alone was reason enough to talk about him. But they were not talking about his status as sponsor. They were talking about his wet clothes and why I was holding onto his jacket until we reached the table and he asked for it back.

            “Thanks for keeping it dry, sweetheart,” he said to me with a wink, which was both disgusting and, to my chagrin, charming.

            To be honest, I wasn't even aware I was holding onto his stinky jacket! He unnerved me so much that I forgot I had his jacket. When I met Maring by the long tables and piled a huge mound of rice on my paper plate, she pinched my arm.

            “What's he like up close?” she whispered in my ear.

            I gave her a once-over. She was red from the tips of her ears to her neck. I knew who this he she was talking about and that she was completely enamored, and a few other girls, too, who were coming towards Maring and me.

            They pulled me to a table and forced me to sit. The school band began playing Tom Jones' song Sex Bomb, which I was thankful for because it drowned the giggling voices of Maring and the girls who were asking and pondering about Mr. Villafuerte and his perfect, white teeth.

            While they were stealing glances of the sponsor, which the sponsor was completely aware of and gave small smiles and shy waves of his hand a few times, I concentrated on my plate of maja blanca kuya Ronny prepared. I knew it was his. He was the only person in Paki-bato who could burn his maja blanca.

            “He must be a star,” Maring cooed.

            “Why do you think that?” I asked.

            “He tops Enrique Gil,” she firmly said.

            “Who?” I shrugged my shoulders and stabbed my fork on the maja blanca.

            “Enrique Gil! You know, that guy with the toothpaste commercial and teleserye,” Maring squealed.

            I rolled my eyes. “Yes, I know who Enrique is, but who tops Enrique?”

            “Joshua!” she screamed.

            “Call me Josh.”

            Maring's eyes grew while the hair on my arms stood on end. I hadn't notice him come. I was too engrossed on my maja blanca.

            He put a hand on Maring's shoulder and grinned at me, showing off his (I couldn't believe it) perfectly straight and perfectly white teeth. A sharp shrill echoed from Maring to the other girls around our table. They were studying him with their wide eyes and smiling among themselves. They quickly offered him a seat and asked him personal questions, like how old he was, what did he do.

            I shook my head and stood. “I'm going to get more maja blanca,” I said but no one seemed to listen, not even Maring, whose eyes were glued on Mr. Villafuerte's eyes.

            I went to the buffet tables again and sliced a piece of maja blanca.

            “I see you are enjoying the maja blanca I made,” kuya Ronny said.

            I jumped a little at the sound of his voice and put my plate down. I smiled. “It tastes a little smoky but it's edible.”

            He laughed. I noticed his slightly crooked teeth and thought they were perfect, unlike Mr. Villafuerte's where his teeth seemed like fake teeth. His good eye stared straight right at me. “You're a smart girl, Ling,” he said.

            I didn't know if what I said about the maja blanca was smart but I still blushed at his compliment. I looked to the side and found Papa glaring at kuya Ronny and me. “What's wrong with Papa? He's been in a foul mood since I got here,” I said.

            A sheepish look crossed on kuya Ronny's face. “I-I will tell you later, Ling,” he quietly said.

            My heart raced in panic. “D-did he say something to you?”

            He shook his head. “N-no,” he whispered, “none of us is in the wrong, b-but your father is just hard to convince.”

            “Convince?”

            He smiled lopsidedly and touched my arm gently. “I promise. I'll tell you later by the falls tonight.”

            The falls? Tonight? It sounded too suspicious and a bit like a lovers' rendezvous. The thought of meeting him secretly kept me on my toes and guarded for the rest of lunch time.

            I went back to my table, where the gaggle of girls, who I couldn't believe were my friends, squawked and giggled to a joke Mr. Villafuerte shared. He turned his eyes toward me and gave me a half-smile. “Hello there, sweetheart. Where were you?”

            He should stop calling me sweetheart. I wasn't his sweetheart or anything. I was just a girl he met coincidentally by the falls. I completely ignored him and ate the rest of my maja blanca. He didn't seem to mind my cold behavior. He shared jokes and made everyone, except me, all giddy and giggly.

            When everyone had their fill of good food, they started to disperse until the only people left were Mr. Villafuerte, the school faculty and staff, me, and a few girls who still wanted to talk with Mr. Villafuerte.

            “Why don't we start the tour of the school, Mr. Villafuerte?” Mrs. Carpio asked.

            “It feels great out here,” Mr. Villafuerte said, and he inhaled so deeply his chest rose like a balloon. “The city is just stuffy and suffocating, you know?” He clapped his hands and grinned at Mrs. Carpio. “So, where's the library?”

            Mrs. Carpio pointed her nose to me and the girls and shook her head. “Go back home, young ladies. This means business already,” she sternly said.

            Mr. Villafuerte clicked his tongue and wagged a finger. “Don't be like that, Mrs. Carpio,” he said, enunciating each word with an upbeat tone. “These ladies went to this school, am I correct?”

            “Y-yes, sir, each and every one of them.”

            He chuckled and put an arm around Mrs. Carpio's shoulder. “Let's have the tour, shall we?”

            It wasn't much of a tour. Mr. Villafuerte walked through the school halls as if he were in his own house. He would walk into a classroom, greet the teacher, sit beside the children and talk to them. He would kick a wall and eye it dubiously. When we reached the library, he didn't walk into it. He just stared at it and smiled at us.

           

“Well,” he slowly began, “to be honest, I didn't expect the school to be in this shape.” He knocked on a wall and a hollow thud echoed. “It's old, dilapidated, hazardous, and rebuilding it will cost a lot of money.”

            Mrs. Carpio shook her head. “B-but we just need help with the books, sir, really.”

            “You know that won't do, right?” he asked.

            “Y-yes, sir, but books are what we need right now.”

            He shook his head. “You're pushing my buttons, Mrs. Carpio.” He grinned and spread his arms out. “My mother used to go to this school. She made my father promise to rebuild it.”

            An uneasy quietness came over to my Papa while the rest whispered.

            Mrs. Carpio smiled so wide. “Your mother, who is she, sir?”

            “Oh, um, Isabella. She was Isabella Delos Santos before she married my father, Rafael Luis Villafuerte,” he said.

            A shiver ran from my toes to my head. I stared at Papa, whose face eased with a ghost of a smile. He seemed so calm while I was in a panic.

            “My father and I will rebuild this school for her,” Mr. Villafuerte said.

            A bubble burst inside me, and a tiny, low voice echoed behind my ears. “We can get back at her! He's her son!”

            Isabella Delos Santos—that was her name. She was the woman who tore my family apart. Limuel Joshua Villafuerte, her son—

            It seemed so right, so justifying. It made sense why I didn't like him in the first place. He was her son! His mother drove my mother and sister away! It was her fault, all her fault! I hated her and I needed her to pay!

            The cogs in my brain moved hurriedly. A plan, I needed one. Think, Ling, think! It was there in my mind, like a tiny seed just waiting to grow. Villafuerte, he looked like a bratty playboy, probably spoiled rotten by her no less. He moved as if every girl was his girlfriend, and everything and everyone else were his personal belongings.

            He turned his head, craning his neck as if he were looking for someone through the crowd of teachers and visitors in front of him. When his dark eyes found mine, a slow, lazy smile stretched on his face. My stomach flipped and I cursed myself for falling for such a sleazy move.

            I hated to admit it but Maring was right. Though he was unkempt, he looked (I couldn't believe I was going to admit it) sexy. Heat spread from my neck to the tips of my ears.

            I couldn't wait to worm into his heart and break it like how his mother broke my family.

            He was still staring at me, still smiling, and I smiled back, not the forced kind of smile I gave him a while ago. It was a genuine smile, lips pulled back to show my teeth. His face turned red and he looked away.

            I might just have wormed into his heart already.