Speeding Through a Blind Curve

LAP TWO

It's usually easy to tell when you're looking at a freshman. Most of them carry too much on the first day of classes, over preparing for a day that will be spent in long lines and getting-to-know-yous before they are eventually sent on their way.

Rae sees a lot of them walking aimlessly around Sunken Garden, trying to pretend they're not that lost even when it's clear from the way they're trying to scan every single thing as they pass. They probably got off the jeepney too early, misread the map they're carrying, or were simply bad at following instructions. Some of these kids probably even came straight from some province, wide eyed and still impressionable, the campus a realization of what was probably a lifelong dream.

As Rae skips over an upturned rock on the sidewalk, she catches a glimpse of a female student running toward something. She follows the girl with her eyes and sees a collision of limbs and long hair as two old friends express just how monumental this is for them.

UP Diliman wasn't Rae's first choice. Majoring in Education wasn't, either. Back when her options were limitless, she had hopes of studying abroad. Sharing dreams of bright lights and hardwood stages with her friends, she could've been halfway through an acting major by now. But things changed-life happened sooner for Rae than most kids, and she had to shift her priorities to accommodate that.

One for the good of many, she's been told. Sacrifice and compromise is essential to the cultivation of mankind, that is, in the context of humanity. But in the context of Rae, she's learned it means her life isn't hers to live just yet. Not now, not until she's made the necessary sacrifices.

"Good morning, ma'am!" the security guard greets her fondly as she enters Benitez Hall.

"Good morning, kuya. Ugh, I can't breathe," she says, fanning her face with her hand.

"You said it, ma'am. I've folded everything I could to fan myself with and I'm still sweating."

"Oh for crying out loud, can't they give you a decent electric fan?"

Someone calls for her while she's handing the guard another piece of paper for his makeshift fan.

"Hey! Rae!"

When she joins the group, her classmates begin to share how their summers had gone-bright eyes and sun-kissed cheeks, hands waving around as they recount every possible detail.

Rae's feet are itching to move. She has no stories to share, no tan line to show off, no beach photos to top theirs, and no torrid summer romance to fawn over. She has no regrets for what others would call missed opportunities. But she also has no desire to stick around for anecdotal evidence that may contradict that.

When she finds her out-a professor greeting them as he passed-she takes it and calls after him, "Sir Jeff!" acting rushed as she follows the professor to the admin office.

---

Rae's walking out from a meeting with the Special Education Council when she runs into Tessa and Aileen. The first couple of weeks of the school year, Rae's been quite thankful for the lack of their presence in her life. But as much as she would rather not, seeing these two around campus is not something she can ever avoid.

It doesn't change the fact that Tessa emerging through the glare of the sun like a cruel mirage makes her want to puke. "Hey, friend." Okay, maybe Rae pukes a little in her mouth right there.

"Tessa-" Rae clutches her notebook against her chest and looks from Tessa to the shadow right over her shoulder. "Aileen."

The smile Aileen wears during their encounters never fails to creep Rae out. Somehow, somewhere, Aileen's innocence became an act. Seeing her gives Rae the same feeling watching a really crappy, semi-terrifying horror movie does.