LIT 2

HEIZEL

July 01, 2019

“Heizel! Wake up!”

I crumpled my eyes when I heard my mom’s voice. I am certain that it was mom because dad won’t shout at me like that because he detests morning as I do. I looked at my bedside clock and it’s still seven minutes early before my alarm goes off. I shut my eyes once more. Let me sleep for another seven minutes.

I heard the door opened. Presumably, mom.

"Heizel, you have a class and you would prefer not to be late, don't you?"

I groaned. “It’s still early,” I mumbled. “Just another five minutes.”

“How about a no, young lady?” she said. Mom removed the blanket which covers me up then sat on my side of the bed. “You have a class, go take a shower and fix yourself.”

I sighed as I opened my eyes. I took a gander at mom, still half asleep. “If I’ll keep going on to class, will that guarantee a better future for me?” I asked. “I only want a simple life and a pizza parlor.”

“Nobody's consistently certain about what the future brings yet what I am certain of is that soon, you’re in college," Mom said as she caressed my hair. “Life won’t be the same as when you were younger. You must finish your studies to get a better job and live the life you always dreamt of. Your dad and I won’t stay here forever so we only wanted what’s best for you.”

I laughed a bit. “It’s still early for those life…thingy…reflections,” I said with my voice still hoarse.

“But it’s not too early for your first class,” Mom said which made me puckered my lips a bit.

“I’ll help you with your work, mom, just don’t make me attend my Philosophy class,” I stated, attempting to sound as charming as I could reasonably be expected.

“No,” she said, with irrevocability. “Breakfast is ready so get up now and fix yourself, young lady.”

“Please?”

“Still a no, Heizel,” she said.

“Fine,” I said, defeated, then get up from my bed. I took my towel out of its rack and glanced in mom’s direction. I mouthed ‘I love you” and she reciprocated it.

I scrubbed down as fast I could then wear my usual outfit. An old jean, which had been once tight but now it’s sagged in all places, and a white shirt which has the word punk written on it. I looked in the mirror as I brushed my wavy, blonde hair. Applied a little amount of face powder, cheek tint, and my favorite lip gloss and I’m all set, but as usual, unhappy with how I look.

The reason behind why I never bother thinking why I don’t have any experience with regards to dating even though I'm eighteen is because I am not as lovely as the other young ladies in the university seem to be. I have these fat cheeks and not to mention, the cankle situation. I am additionally little for my age and my family's situated in middle life status. Ever since, I concluded, that the hardest kind of love is to love one’s self.

I joined mom and dad for breakfast, just as I promised. Then, hurriedly wore my favorite converse which had been with me for ages but since I stopped growing, I am as yet utilizing it. I bid goodbye to mom and let dad took me to school since I am still in the process of getting my license.

When we arrived at the university, I fiddled with my bag, just to kill time. On the off chance that I'll be allowed to decide, I would prefer not to go to my Philosophy class. It's tiring, tuning in to my professor jabber about how significant life is, the study of living, the various philosophers whom I don’t have any idea about and their contributions, and even how the world was molded by the ceaseless history.

“Mom won’t like it if you’ll be late,” Dad said. “But I concur, who loves Philosophy anyway.”

I chuckled. “That’s why I love you, dad, more than I love mom,” I said. “But don’t tell her about that.”

Dad laughed. “Have fun in your class, young lady,” he said as I got out. “And make some friends.”

I pivoted to face him. “I don’t need other friends, dad,” I said. “Just take care.”

“See you at five,” he said through the rolled-down window. I waved goodbye then walked away.

“Hey,” Sam greeted when our way’s crossed. “Have you heard about Jahann’s party?”

Jahann’s one of the well-known students in the university. He has this ocean blue iris, a long and leanly muscular body, earthy colored semi-curly hair and his asset, as other girls define it, his deep-set eyes.

“Nope,” I immediately responded. “Not interested.”

“Guess what,” she stated, fervor satisfied her voice. “We’re invited!”

She screeched and I stopped walking to confront her. Sam is my best friend—err, she's my solitary friend. I don't vividly recall how everything began between us except from the fact that since then, we were unbreakable. In contrast to me, Sam's rich. Whenever she’s invited to the ‘rich’ people get-together, she wanted me to come, too. Well, to be brutally honest, I enjoyed none of the parties we attended. Whenever Sam’s not with me, problematic students start to make fun of me. It's nothing new, my life in this university is as damnation as my life in those social gatherings. If only I can say no to Sam, I would.

“I would prefer not to go, Sam,” I expressed. “I have a lot of things to do and besides, I am not invited, you are,” I added then walked past at her.

Okay, I lied. Aside from watching my favorite anime, I got nothing on my plate at the moment. I’d rather watched TV than to spend my time in those parties which I do not belong to.

“You’re lying,” she said. “Please, this is the last time.”

I sighed. She told me the same thing countless times already, seems like none of it is the real last time.

“I can’t—”

“Please, please, please,” she insisted then showed me her infamous puppy eyes.

I sighed once again. “When’s the party?” I asked, defeated.

“Eighteenth of July,” she enthusiastically answered. “Don’t worry, you won’t spend, not even a single penny, for your dress and makeup.”

“Cross out the makeup thingy, I don’t want it nor need it,” I said.

She clung her arms unto mine. “Just one night, Heizel. Please?”

“Fine.”

Sam talked about how her weekend went by and I did the same thing. At least, I got the chance to disregard our Philosophy class, which by the way, we must attend to. This is our senior year and we can’t fail. The disadvantage of being a graduating student is that it is less fun.