Just This Time

Prologue

Marco's POV

Another school day has finally ended. Tragically it's still Tuesday tomorrow. One day down, four to go. I'm still not regretting the fact that I took up HUMSS. But come on, it's finally my graduating year. A little bit more of self-torture. The first semester's barely halfway and I can't already stand the mere existence of my classmates. I'm still trying to adjust. You don't get to do things right the first time you attempt to do them.

I was slowly walking down the hallway. I saw clusters of students in the distance walking their way outside of this hell show. Some passed me by like the gates would close on them. Jeez, if they were driving a car they'd be ticketed already.

Recently, the Student Council set up this bulletin board near the faculty room. They called it the "Freedom Wall."

Sometimes, I ask myself, "What difference does it make if you stick up a Post-it note containing all your life problems?" They said it was for mental health. Meh. They should've just done free coffee sessions every morning instead. It's more healing by a mile, in my opinion.

I was peacefully walking when the board caught my attention. My footsteps halted. There are 25 more Post-it notes since the last time I saw it.

Of course, as a curious cat, I scanned all of the notes.

And yes, there is a saying that goes "Curiosity kills the cat." No wonder I'm curious!

One note read:

"To Sir Nico Jai,

Kung kaya mong i-solve ang calculus, ba't 'di mo 'ko kayang sagutin? Emz!"

I scoffed. "Because you're a harder problem," my mind echoed.

Another one said:

"To Jayronne,

Galingan mo sa Liga lahams, from your admirer"

"Out of 3,896 male students in this school," I discreetly commented.

Most of the notes were kind of "manifesting" something. One read, "Future LPT cutie!" and another said, "Future RN, manifesting!!!" But many were still stuck in manifesting for their pathetic admired person slash desired one or simply their crushes to at least love them back.

"They can't take a break?" I vocally stated. My eyes continued to run across the board. It almost rolled, to be honest.

"To Kuya Denver...", "Hey Seleira...", "For Laurence...", "This is for Frank...", "To Ming my loves..."

I stopped skimming the messages with a visibly cringed expression drawn all over my face.

"Well, that'll do it. This is just a nightmare!" I exclaimed.

At that very moment, I decided to take action. My eyes traveled across the bulletin board to see if there were any extra sticky notes somewhere. There was nothing. I reached for my pockets. There was my receipt from the bookshop.

I sighed. "Fine. That'll do."

I grabbed my pen from my back pocket. There, I wrote, while shaking my head:

"You all suck."

I reached for some tape inside my other pocket. I ripped a strip off and finally posted my eye-opening one-liner.

"Much better," I rejoiced.

I exhaled with relief, then finally continued my inept marches back home.