by M.G. Marquez
CHAPTER FIVE
MAGGIE
I’ve managed to escape the guards for four days but not today. It’s a Wednesday and I’m supposed to be unlucky. And hell yeah, I am.
“Where’s your ID?” the guard demanded, whom we tagged the name “The Shark” for he was so strict and stiff.
My excuses ranged from “I left it inside the studio when we finished practicing dance,” to “I’m a transferee and I still don’t have an ID,” which always buys. But to The Shark, I know it won’t work so I said instead, “The President’s son, Guji Tarence Kim, took it and never gave it back.” I even showed him my lace.
The Shark only looked down on me. Some kind of mockery was flowing like a river in his eyes, which made it obvious that I don’t stand a chance. “You cannot fool me. Now, give me 100.”
“100 hugs and kisses?”
“No. I’ll double it now. Give me 200 push-ups. Now!”
“Hey! Can I at least have a gender discount? I’m a girl, duh?”
“Discipline is discipline,”
When I was about to protest, someone overhead commented, “Yeah right. Discipline is discipline.” I opened my right palm to catch the falling sampaloc from above. I’m so used to this.
I looked up and saw one, two, three, four guys jumping down the tree. I sighed. Don’t they have any way of entrance other than this? I’m so tired of catching things falling onto my head.
“You! Give me back my ID!” I pointed my finger at Guji’s gorgeous face.
“What are you saying? I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t have your ID,”
“Liar! You stole my ID right before my eyes –”
“STOP. You,” The Shark pointed at me and barked, “Get down now and give me 200.”
What else can I do? It’s Wednesday so I have to deal with this kind of misfortune, even at the expense of my own dignity.
While I was doing those stupid 200 Push Ups of Death, Guji and his gang laughed at me like they’ve never laughed in years. When I reached the 20th push up, I gave up. Guji knelt in front of me, all smiling. I could smash all his teeth if I only have the strength to.
He mimicked the sound of the graduation march as he hangs my ID around my neck himself. I breathed unevenly, disgusted. “First Honors… Maurice Janella Ponce. Congratulations!”
I punched him right in the face. It left a mark.
“Ooh, sweet!” I heard someone exclaimed.
Realization dawned on me bit by bit that it was the silliest thing I could ever do. I forgot that I’m dealing with four guys with a name – B4. That they are the most dangerous group I’d come against with. That the one I punched in the face is their boss. Forgetting something like this will mean me my life. I hope not.
Janella strikes two in a row, yes!
It was Guji and his friends who barged into our room 11:15 in the morning, right in the middle of my daydream with Super Junior’s Siwon Choi. In the middle of our inches-until-we-kiss moment, they went all scandalous and dragged me away. My NS101 instructor and block mates were just looking at the commotion, their jaws unhinged.
“Stop touching me, morons and minions of the Underworld,” I demanded as I try to waggle their hands off my arms. “Pervs,”
“What did you say? You’re not worth perverting for in any way,” Fred, whom I called Electrical Tape, defended.
“I don’t find your thick eyebrows very attractive in any way, too.”
“Just shut up,” Jason, whom I called Someone No.3 before, said. He grabbed my hand and pushed me forward. What a gentleman he is, insert sarcasm here. “Just walk by yourself.”
“You don’t have to say it. I will. I’m not your princess, this isn’t a fairytale. I’m not the one you sweep off her feet, lead her up the –”
“Is that a Taylor Swift song?” Klein, the bald guy, asked me.
“Yeah. You like Taylor Swift?” His eyes glittered, and I don’t know what to say about that. Jason pushed me forward that I almost stumbled down. “Hey! Don’t be so hard on girls, will you?”
I walked with them behind me. I pretended to be brave, like I always do. My knees are shaking in submission but I don’t mind them. If these guys are as deadly as they seem to be, I won’t give them the pleasure of dying in their hands easily. I have to fight back, though it might be the hardest thing I’d ever do in my life.
“Have you found any school to transfer to?” Fred asked behind me.
“Have you found a shave for your eyebrows?”
“That’s right, bro. You have a garden of hair right there!” Klein added. I suppressed a laugh.
“Don’t embarrass me!”
“I’m not embarrassing you, bro. It’s the truth!”
While the two of them were fighting, throwing phrases like “At least I have hair unlike you,” and “At least I’m tall how about you?” at each other, my attention focused at Jason, who has a different kind of aura of mysteriousness. But why do I care? He’s attractive not going to be my friend.
“Don’t stare at me,” he said. I looked away, ashamed.
To be inside the Office of the Bald President meant either you’re doing well at school or you’re doing extremely badly. Punching his son right in the face in the school ground, in the midst of everybody, was the perfect opposite of “well”.
“So, Ms. Maurice Janella Ponce,” Pres. Song Hyun Kim greeted with all his upper teeth exposed. I wonder what I looked like in front of him now. Except that I’m sweating excessively because of nervousness, those freaks carried me in here like a roasted pig because I tried to escape. I thought I could run fast, but they’re a million times better. Soccer players, yes they are.
“Have you decided?” he asked.
“Of course sir,” I clenched, unclenched my fists under his table to calm myself. “Your son seems to need me bad, so why would I reject your offer?”
He looked at me like he can’t believe every word I’ve said. He was shaking his head in disbelief. I can’t believe this either. I’m actually walking straight into a lion’s den and there’s no turning back now.
“You do know that he’s quite something uh… special?”
“I love challenges, sir. I’ll take the job. I’ll be his tutor.” Oh my God, kill me now.
He clapped and laughed and clapped and laughed I can throw a Ping-Pong ball straight to his mouth because it was so big.
“Oh girl, you made me so happy today! Thank you. I mean it. Which reminds me,” he put his finger under his chin. A small crystal of sweat trickled down my cheek. I swallowed hard.
“That red mark on his left cheek… You did that?”
I hesitated first before my lips parted. “Y-yes sir…”
He again laughed so hard while banging the table. He wiped a tear at the edge of his eye before he turned to face me again. Gosh, I think our President is insane.
“You really amaze me a lot. No one has ever laid a fist on his face but you. You got a spirit, eh? You and my son can work well together, I see it. Yes? You think so too, Maurice? Or should I call you Janella? Which do you prefer?”
“I like to be called Beauty. Is it possible?”
He laughed again. “I like you Beauty!”
I laughed with him. “I like you too, Baldy!”
Then he stopped laughing. I stopped, too. When I realized that I said something awful, I covered my mouth. I tried so hard to remember if I have any blade or pair of scissors in my bag which I could use to kill myself right now.
Goodbye Philippines. Goodbye World.