I slept through most of the trip. I certainly didn't dream because of how bumpy the road is. But when I woke up, I imagined myself in that last car ride to my grandma's apartment from Ilocos. I was in a weird dazed state, once you open your eyes from slumber, where, no matter how smart you are, you act like you're a drunk idiot.
"Let's go." Kyla taps me on the shoulder. She looks tired with the eyeballs she gained from driving all day. I look at the clock. Six am. "We're in Cavite." I hop off my seat and look around. The sun is peeking through the trees that surround the rich-looking neighborhood. The contrast between the two neighborhoods seem too far apart. We both walk to the front of a huge one-story house. Instead of her knocking, she buzzes a doorbell. "Morales po 'to. Who is it?"
"Guittierez, Kyla."
We wait for a bit, then the door opens, then stops with a chain. "Kyla, why are you here?" The girl behind the door asks. "We need your plane tickets." Kyla states. "What? Do you know how long I waited for the flight? And aren't you supposed to be getting ready for school?"
"If you don't want us killed, you might want to hand them over."
"No way. It's today, and it's been years that I've asked for these."
"You're rich, you can get more of them."
"It doesn't matter, you just want me to get involved with your filthy gang bullcrap."
"I'll pay you back."
"I don't care!" The girl looks at me. "Who are you?"
"Joulo. Lian Joulo po." I say.
"Relax, I'm not as old as you think I am." She says. "I'm Erika." She says, as she unhooks the chain. "Alright, I'll give them to you."
"Are you that desperate for a girlfriend?"
"That's besides the point. Are you gonna take it or what?"
"Yeah, but with what conditions?"
"Just pay me back, my parents'll get more tickets to Hong Kong if I ask for them again. Oh, and the flight is, coincidentally at eight am."
"That's really convenient." I remark. "I know, right? This is why I haven't been going to school for the past week." She gestures to her expensive-looking, but clashing clothes. I pretend to smile. She runs into her house and comes back with tickets in her hand. "You don't need a visa, you just need a passport."
"Thank you." I say.
"Thanks." Kyla also thanks her.
"Good luck." Erika closes the door.
YOU ARE READING
They Are Stars
Short Story(my grade 8 english project, dont expect much) When your people pass away And everything fades, When you get tangled in a mess, Will you still keep up with this charade? - Fifteen year old, Lian Joulo moved to her grandma's apartment in Manila after...
