B
Present Day
I still hate Caitlin Viray...
I looked over the most recent letter she'd sent me from her "Semester at Sea" program, and I still couldn't bring myself to write her back. It'd been three months since our last exchange, and my blood was boiling like I was reading her words for the first time.
***
Dear Bea,
I'm pretty sure niloloko ka lang ng girlfriend mo. Like, lahat ng SIGNS andon na, and they were there eight letters ago. As a person who honestly loves seeing you miserable, I can't say that this makes me happy. (Only because ayoko sa cheaters, though. If you were upset about anything else, I'd be laughing my ass off right now.)
Maybe she's just not impressed with all those accolades you LOVE to throw in my face all the time: The fact that you were Ms. Popular in high school for three years in a row (Naniniwala parin akong nandaya ka, and it was high school. Time to let that shit go.) The fact you drive a classic blue convertible (What the hell does that have to do with anything? Like, ever?) And the fact that you're supposedly "running shit on SBU's campus." (I've been on this ship for three years, and none of the students who do single semesters have any idea who you are when I ask. No. One.)
Thank you for the unwanted advice about MY boyfriend, but seeing as though I know what it takes to make a relationship work, I don't need it.
Forget You,
Caitlin
PS – Maybe you're not as good at sex as you thought you were? (That's probably it. I can send you some 'How to' books on that topic if you like. Let me know!)
***
I reread her letter one last time, putting it away in my glovebox. Then I looked up at my girlfriend's windows for the second hour in a row, watching her grind against one of my closest friends.
I was supposed to be surprising her with a "four-month anniversary" gift right now since she's thrown not-so-subtle hints all week, but after watching her get pounded by someone else, I knew I was returning everything to the store the second I broke up with her. Today.
I can't believe Caitlin was right about this shit.
Not wanting to wait for them to finish, I stepped out of my car and walked to her front door. I used the key she gave me months ago, the one labeled "Bea and Jho forever," and walked into the living room.
"Ohhh god!" She moaned. "Oh god, yes!"
"Yeah?" My friend, Nico, slapped her ass. "Is this what you like?"
"Yeah, she loves that position," I said, and he immediately stilled. His eyes went wide, and all the color left Jho's face.
He pulled out of her, quickly moving away. Then he stared at me in shock for several seconds before picking up his jeans and rushing to the bathroom.
Jho stood in front of me, stark naked and red. Keeping her eyes on mine, she walked over to the couch.
She bit her lip, looking as if she was searching for the right thing to say.
"Hi, Bea," she said, finally. "I know this looks really bad, but I can explain."
I said nothing, and she picked up her clothes.
"Can you stop looking at me like that first, though?" She pulled her bra over her head. "Like, please?"
I didn't move. I watched as she struggled to put on the rest of her clothes. Blue jeans. Faded shirt. My high school varsity hoodie.
