Mine

Marga hikes up her dress and steps out of the BMW, careful not to step on the thin satin. She looks up at the mansion in front of her and trains her eyes at a window on the second floor. She holds a fistful of her dress and storms in as fast as she could in a pair of stilettos. A couple of maids throw her curious looks on her way to his room.

"Ma'am, nagbibihis pa po si sir Patrick. Sabihin ko po sa kanya nandito na kayo. Kung gusto niyo, intayin niyo na lang sa sala, kukuha ko kayo ng maiiinom," one offers.

Marga walks past her. "I'm not here for Patrick," she replies irritably, not sparing her a glance. The helper, though confused, stops following her.

She bursts into the room without knocking, and finds Mikoy sitting on the floor with an Xbox console on his hands and his eyes glued to the screen in front. He turns to her and looks panicked.

Marga whips out her phone and reads the text he sent 30 minutes ago. "Marga, sorry pero di na ako makakapunta sa prom. Masama kasi pakiramdam ko, may lagnat ata ako. Si Patrick na lang date mo. Sunduin ka daw niya ng 6pm"

Mikoy flinches at the venom in Marga's tone.

"Masama pakiramdam?" she stalks closer, her tone growing darker, "May lagnat?" Marga glares at him. He looks as healthy as ever.

"Marga, mag-eexplain ako..." he says.

She arches an eyebrow.

His hands fly to his nape, and he briefly glances out the window, unable to meet her gaze.

"Eh alam mo namang di ako bagay dun," he says quietly.

For a split second, Marga's anger subsides as worry seeps in. But then realization dawns on her and she finds herself seething again.

It's been a year since Mikoy's biological father found him at a social event she dragged him into. After a series of DNA tests, Mikoy left the dirty streets he called home and moved into one of the biggest manors in Manila; he transferred from a public school to Maxwell, the academy for children meant to rule as the world's kings and queens someday; he finally abandoned those god-awful five pairs of clothes he wore on rotation and switched to signature clothes that she forces him to wear.

Marga closes the gap between them. She gently holds his cheek but the expression on her face remains hard.

"Michael Araneta," she tells him, "Your name is Michael Araneta. Your dad owns just about half of the land in this country. Your net worth is at least thrice that of the average student in Maxwell. You belong there as much as I do."

Mikoy looks conflicted. For a minute, Marga just watches him decide on whether to say his next words.

"Money can't buy class, Marga," he blurts. Those are not his words, Marga thinks to herself.

"Sino may sabi sa'yo niyan?" she fights to keep her rage at bay.

With his wits, sense of humor and good looks, Mikoy has charmed nearly everyone at school. But he can't please everyone—no one can. And anyone who refuses to let Mikoy into their lives is an idiot, Marga mentally tells herself.

"Kahit gaano pa kamahal idamit niyo sa'kin, gaano ka-bago telepono ko, gaano kalaki tong bago kong kwarto, gaano kamahal matrikula ko sa school, ako parin ako—batang kalye, magbabakal, taga-punas ng windshield ng dumadaang kotse...squatter,"

Marga's face reddens in anger. "Sino may sabi sa'yo niyan?" she repeats, even though she already knows the answer.

Mikoy turns away from her and shakes his head. "Wala, naisip ko lang," he says.