Connection

Chapter 3

Is it true? Or am I just some sort of an obsessed student who fell in love with her teacher so I started imagining her as my own mother?

Firstly, and I say this with a heavy heart, Miss Salonga is indeed my mother. My middle name justifies so. My birth certificate says so and my DNA definitely proves so. That’s something I cannot change. Unfortunately.

Secondly, I’ll be the last thing to get obsessed with her. She’s everything that I never wanted both as a teacher and a mother. I will not take back what I said and what I feel towards her as my teacher— I hate her, I think everyone in school does. And the fact that she’s my mother either takes away a little bit of that hatred or adds more to it. There’s no in between.

Food is already served in the table when I came back from my room. It’s a good thing that I said no to Dad’s invitation for dinner because Nanay Cristy’s dishes are always better than any five-star restaurants. Tonight, she cooked one of my favorite buttered shrimp.

There were three sets of utensils as well so I presumed Mom’s going to join me for dinner. It rarely happens since our schedules don’t really meet in the middle. She’d go home later than I do so she had advised me not to wait for her anymore and just eat alone. We just usually eat together on weekends or on days like this.

Mom soon went out of the study room and joined us here. Her chest-length hair is down which she styles oppositely when she’s at school. She always tied it up at school.

My Mom’s terrifyingly pretty, I’m not going to deny it. She’s intimidating and her incredible physique just adds to that. If I haven’t described this enough, she’s got the eyes that would make you step back even before you get to step closer to her— especially if she doesn’t really like your presence around her. They’re enough to make you shit on your pants.

Thank God I mostly inherited my features from my father. Otherwise, I couldn’t have handled having those kind of cold killer stares of hers. But I must admit and I’d credit this to her, I got my work ethics from her. Mom’s career-oriented, to say the least. She works very hard to achieve something she has her eyes set on. What can be done today must be done today because she believes that there’s no point of delaying something if you can already do it the moment you think of it. Procrastination is never a part of her vocabulary. And she hates people who cram, most especially, me.

You could say that those work ethics were forced on me more than they were natural to me. I’m aware of that but I honestly don’t care. What else can I do? It’s already there. They were already instilled in me. They serve their purpose anyway and that is to keep me away from my mother’s nagging.

“Do you know how much is the damage from the fire and what caused it?” I asked out of curiosity and to lessen the dead air between us as well.

“I don’t have the numbers but it’s more than enough to suspend your classes for tomorrow. As for the cause, it’s sort of short circuit problems on the air-conditioner. Ang yaman yaman ng school pero low maintenance ang mga gamit. So disappointing and angering. They’re just lucky they aren’t going to receive any lawsuits from any of the parents.” Mom expressed her thoughts and feelings so firmly. “You should tell your Dad to file a case against the school because of what happened. I would have done the same thing the moment I saw you unconscious on the floor, but you know I couldn’t.”

I slightly smile hearing her concern of me. This is what I meant when I said she isn’t totally an evil person. She still cares for me, of course, as her daughter. She just shows it in her own ways.

“We should not just be bothered by it, Mom. I’m okay now. Besides, if we take legal actions against the school, it might fire back on us. We have a secret, remember?”