Well...I passed the sophomore year, so I'm in to junior year! And that begins with a question about one particular subject: What course should I choose?
There was a transferee I befriended with on the first day and encouraged her to go to what I had in mind in the first place: Contact Center Services.
By the time Tuesday came, I knew that was the best course for me. I didn't regret it at all.
We introduced ourselves through nicknames. Simple, but scary. It's either you have to "cut off" a part of your name, or have another name. At first, I chose "Gio" but I thought it was a little bit of boyish and I didn't like it, so after a few days, I decided to change it to what now is the name my friends, some news personalities from the Americas (should I name them? Btw, they're married)...and of course, him.
Isabelle.
Then the rest was history.
I never thought that those much older to me (my senpais, the Fourth Year batch) were scared of me! Maybe because I have that American accent that I inherited since I was little, or something else.
He said it to me. They were scared of me.
Damn, I'm not a f***ing monster to begin with! I'm just a f***ing nobody, okay? I'm a nobody. I'll never be famous for speaking English perfectly, or what else. The hell I care.
Until he came, that is.
I was never a damn fixture at the batch that time. In fact, I became even more shy and I've been into depression lately, which nobody knows of. But I still pretend to be happy in front of him, because that what's he sees me. I'm a happy, bad b****.
"I've always believed in you."
That will be the phrase that will mark on me forever.
YOU ARE READING
[C] A Year With Him
ContoHere in this short memoir, I will tell you how he-my teacher-continued to believe in me despite everything I've done. Published: February 23, 2016