Madeline Jesty Jacobs received an unexpected gift on the night of her seventh birthday -- she could see hourglasses on top of everybody's heads in just one taste of alcohol, an indication of what she thought was their life span. This unknown phenome...
"Pleasant morning, Mrs. Agoncillo. Pleasant morning, Sister Antonia. Pleasant morning, fellow handmaids."
"It's the first day of second quarter, students. Livelier, please. Pleasant morning, students!"
"Pleasant morning, Mrs. Agoncillo! Pleasant morning, Sister Antonia! Pleasant morning, fellow handmaids!"
It was the Monday after. Everyone was groggy. But Mrs. Agoncillo just had the perfect announcement to awaken all the students.
"That's better. Now before you return to your respective rooms . . ." Microphone feedback, followed by silence. "Remember to tell your parents that this Saturday is card-giving day. Your homeroom advisers will give the letter later."
Ugh. I forgot about card-giving day, which would alwayshappen the next Saturday after exams. Clubs would resume the next Friday, but students would have to clean and prepare their classrooms. Unlike PTAs, both parents and us students were required to attend this dreadful day during the first and fourth quarters. Second and third, no need, as we only had to give our report cards directly to our parents.
Good thing it was announced. I would have forgotten about it, and so would Steph.
I quickly glanced at Mickey as we returned to our rooms. How will her mother get her report card?
Throughout the day, I thought about my situation with her. Mickey and I agreed to treat each other like strangers, and she promised to look away whenever Iola would mingle with Steph and me. We settled, however, to communicate through letters and meet every weekend instead. Weekends were much safer anyway. Some students would pass by the café after school, and we could easily be made the talk of the town. Better safe than not.
True enough, before I went home, I checked my locker. There, a letter. Two, actually. The first one read:
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It's lunchtime. And you're talking with Iola. Fuck, I should be in that spot. Can't we meet every Wednesday near Cornelia's instead? But of course you'll refuse.
I'm sorry. I keep missing you. Respond to me, my queen.
The second one:
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