Maven and Adrianna were like the sun and the moon. Their paths were meant to cross but not to sync eternally.
Both from prominent wealthy families separated by hatred and vendetta, they should've left it at that. But fate has a funny way to let them...
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Up until first year in Dartmouth, back in college, I have this perfectly 6-year plan in mind that if I did things in a certain way, then my desired goal could be within reach on a perfect time.
The first week in the jungle called Law school, about a hundred and fifty first-year law students will arrive on the Ateneo Law School. And a few minutes later, I'll meet about forty of them for their first law-school class and that would be Constitutional Law I, in my case.
I listened as the room started to fill up, I eyed up the girls who were, obviously, forming their mini clique as their animated mouth kept on blabbing something trivial. What a major throwback to middle school.
Then I've heard one of them say "You know, if you really just wanted to be wealthy, you could just marry rich and not go in Law School." To which this willowy girl with a red hair countered, "Yuck, ano ba, I have morals. He has to be rich and hot."
"Wow, ganda ng morals mo ha", another one teased as she nudged her shoulder to the Red hair-girl and then they all laughed like a pack of heaving hyenas.
They chatted some more, seem quite content to think nothing else-- or whatsoever-- except the latest catalog of some fashion magazine, somewhere between Cosmopolitan, Esquire and Preview, I think.
There were also familiar faces from the OrSem as I searched the faces of the people I'll probably share my four years in law school, and somewhere, I was hoping to see fear in their eyes but finding none.
Practically trying genuine sobriety, my lips quirked up when someone threw a smile on my way but I didn't pay heed or an effort to approach them after that. Basically, I suck being a normal human.
With that in mind, I checked out my Rolex Watch and a man in his late forties wearing a shirt that was silk, oversized and baggy, a grey-wash texture that could've been fashionable in the mid-80s, scrambled in and chose that very moment to appear, killing all the buzzing noise awhile ago.
He didn't take any amount of decency and time to write his name over the white board. He just looked at us with his stern eyes, probably judging who's going to stay in the roster and who's going to drop out in the middle of the semester.
Attorney Fabregas was a huge man, Majin buu-size, with mean-looking eyes below his big bushy brows on his bald headed face. He was too big that he almost appeared like a humongous hydrocephalic baby with elephantiasis, well that's for me.
"I have no pity. I have no compassion." He said, eating up the entire riser from left to right, while giving each student a stink eye. What a way to welcome people, who paid ninety five thousand pesos for a sem. I sighed, while I felt the person sitting next to me froze. "I love this law school. It is the reason why I am here. I will die teaching"
He began walking between the chairs of his students, eyeing each one of us with his hawk eyes that could see through your being-- or worse your inevitable doom in Law School. "My passion has always been in teaching." He said, hands clasped together as if to prove a point. "I don't care if only six of you pass my subject. I make no qualms about it. If you fail, you fail"
