Chapter 8: Who are you?

"Boy...friend?" I tried so hard to compose myself and stifle my laughter but I ended up touching my stomach as I mockingly laugh at Uno. 

"Are you serious?" I wiped the tears I got from laughing so hard away from my face. "Are you on drugs, Sir?" 

Uno Saldivar can both annoy and make me laugh like a madwoman. This is absurd! A nerdy boy who's been tailing me for two years assumes that he's finally my boyfriend! 

"That's hilarious...and horrible," I said, now back in my serious voice. "Why did you even go in there? Who told you that you're my boyfriend?" 

I pushed him away, he finally stood a step backward with his confused face and lips parted. I arched my brow and crossed my arms as I stared at him with my sharp, well-done eyes with a winged eyeliner. 

"Do you want a free pass to a mental hospi-" 

"That night, you kissed me. That makes me your boyfriend." He eyed me with seriousness and firmness. He took a step forward and titled his head. 

"You never kiss a person if you don't like him, Farrah." He leaned closer to whisper in my ear which sent shivers down my spine. The same loud beating of my heart started again and my legs started to feel so wobbly. I swallowed hard and tried to throw him another death glare. 

I plastered a smug face and chin up to meet his gaze. 

"Of course, I can. You're just old fashion!" I hissed and wiped my forehead, pretending to dry the invisible sweat I gained for this whole thing. 

"Uno, I can kiss any man I want to kiss. And when did I kiss you?" I said, still confused about what he's talking about. 

"You don't remember?" His eyes widened and his lips parted more. He stood a step back and shook his head. 

"This is why I hate you drunk, Farrah." He said and bowed his head. This time, my eyes widened and step forward to remove the gap between us. 

"That night...did we fuck?" I blurted out and moved my face closer until our faces are just inches apart. "Did we?" I wrinkled my nose and think of things like...

Is he a good kisser? How intense is our kissing? What the hell! I will never drink a mixture of jungle juice and vodka again if this will happen every time!

I have this habit of remembering every scene of a hot night, compare it with my other experiences and find out which man is better and this is the first time I forgot to do that—maybe because I wasn't sane when it happened.

He shifted his gaze to the side, trying to avoid my eyes. His neck and ears reddened and he looks flustered. 

"Uno..." I whispered. 

"I will request for a reenactment," I teased which made him linger his eyes on me. I seductively bit my lips before I moved my face away from him. I gave him a head-to-toe and stop on his face.

"Sad, I can't even remember how you looked like when you finally get my-" 

"Nothing happened. Stop talking dirty." He furrowed his brows and clenched his jaw. My lips turned "O" and stopped midway. 

"Okay, then. But Uno." I cleared my throat and gave him a head to foot. "I don't do boyfriends." I put the scattered strands of my hair behind my ear and smirked at him. 

"Unless you want to be my fling." I whirled around only to turn my back again to face him. "But I don't accept geeks as my flings. I've got a long list waiting for them to be called." I said, emphasizing the word "long" and showed him my phone. 

"Just so you know, don't expect me to be committed just because I kissed you. Stop being so entitled and quit on being my dog." I showed him a devilish grin and opened the door of my car, making him step back. 

"And one more thing, I don't want to see you again. Pursue someone else or just disappear! Go to the moon and never go back! The next time you'll throw me a banter, I'll kill you!" I yelled before pushing myself inside my Sedan.

So this is why the moment I saw him in their kitchen, he's smiling from ear-to-ear and tells me weird things, huh.

When I finally made myself comfortable with my seat, I started the engine and never glanced at him again. But the thought never stopped in there. I'm still thinking about how did it happen and what else did we do. It makes me curious and I want to know every detail because it's the first time I kissed someone out of my league. I never kissed a man with goofy glasses because that is so not me. 

What if I tried it again but not when I'm drunk so I could remember? I slapped the stirring wheel out of frustration. 

"Damn Farrah, you're out of your mind!" I screamed to myself and once again started the engine to get home. 

"Mom, I'm home!" I cheerfully yelled as I glanced at the living room, trying to search for Mom's presence. I handed my bag to the maid. 

"Take good care of this and place it on my bed. I'm going to be the one who'll place it in my closet." I said and dismissed her when I remembered something.

"Hey, you. Come back." I licked my lips and wandered my eyes around the whole room. 

"Where is my mother?" I asked and shifted my eyes to her. The maid bowed her head as a sign of respect before answering. "She's in her room, Ma'am."

I picked my bag from her and decided to go upstairs since Mom's room is just two doors away from mine. I opened the door of my closet and placed my schoolbag nicely before I strutted the way to my mother's room. 

I was about to knock when I noticed that the door is a bit open and a voice of a girl is laughing inside it. I put aside thought and decided to have a joke time with my Mom and sneaked on the door with my lightest steps so that she'll not notice me. 

"Stop your words I'm being shy!" Mom's giggle welcomed me as I walk closer. My brows creased and the same cringy feeling started to build up again. 

She's sitting on her white king-sized bed, pinching the side of her pillow while smiling from ear-to-ear. The scene in front of me makes me want to laugh so hard. A loving wife is giggling while talking to her cheater husband! But I stopped myself because...It hurts. 

I somehow pity myself for having that kind of father. But I can't deny that he has been a great father towards me, only if I never knew about his little secret when I'm a 10th grader. 

I also feel sorry for my Mom for having Dad as her wedded partner. All she did was to love my father. And her...she's blind. She doesn't even know that the business trips that Dad always tell her is her escapades with her other woman. I sighed.

"You're really sweet! I can't wait to meet you. What? Right now? Sure! But I'll check because Farrah might go home early-" 

"I'm already home, Mom," I uttered in a low voice, interrupting her call with my dad, probably. She dramatically turns her head to face me and dropped the phone on the floor. Her lips parted, and eyes so wide. 

My forehead creased at her shocked expression. 

"Why do you look like you saw a ghost?" I marched my way to her phone to pick it up when she hurriedly sat to hold it first. 

My lips twisted as I stared at her face. 

"You look weird," I remarked, remembering what I said to Uno last time. Why do people look at me like this whenever they see me? I thought. 

"Ah, sweetie. You're home early." My eyes narrowed as her eyes avoided my gaze. I scanned her body and saw her attire. She's wearing a white fitted dress and a black two inches heels paired with a black Prada. 

"Are you going somewhere?" My eyes traveled to the phone she's holding. She hid it behind her back and smiled at me. 

"And who are you talking to? Is it Dad?" I added, trying to hide the bitterness in my voice. Her face lit up and stood up to walk closer. 

"Yes sweetie, I'm planning to have lunch...with your Dad. I need to go." She kissed my cheeks. An unfamiliar perfume invaded my nose. This isn't Mom's usual cologne. I wrinkled my nose at the vanilla scent and move my face away. 

"Did you change your perfume, Mom? I remembered you smell like candy. This one is vanilla." I said and moved my face towards her neck. She stood a step back and once again gave me a small smile. 

"Yes, it's a gift of a friend." She turned her gaze on her wristwatch before glancing at me again. 

"I need to go, sweetie. You can have the whole house." She said and stormed out of the room, bringing her phone and Prada in one hand. 

Weird.

I shook my head and turned around to go out of the room. 

"Today is a good day," I told myself as soon as I entered the gates of Malayan University. 

"My lip color is good, my bag is new, shoes are shining, hair so good and winged eyeliner perfect," I whispered to myself. I roamed my eyes on the soccer field and saw some rookies kicking a ball upward and stopped when they saw me. 

I sighed. The people and the famous Farrah Evans really makes a great connection. It's so good to be beautiful, famous, beautiful, rich, and more importantly, beautiful. 

Have I told you that I look so gorgeous today? I'm wearing a maroon knee-length spaghetti strapped bodycon dress with a slit behind. Schools in the Philippines are a bit conservative so I matched it with a black cardigan. I laughed as I talked to myself. I strutted the way wearing my brown two-inches wedge and walked like a model. 

Standing with my five-feet-seven-inches height, I stood so proud with a bright smile plastered on my face. The weather is nice, but the stare of the people around me is a bit bothering. They will look at me from head-to-foot and shook their heads. Some will glance at me while whispering with the girl beside them. 

Err, no matter how you look at my dress, you'll never find a flaw. 

"Omg girl! You need to see something!" Vanessa's voice is filled with urgency as she hastily walked towards my direction. I rolled my eyes and twisted my lips as I glance at my best friend. 

"Stop running like a child, you'll lose your poise, girl," I mumbled and crossed my arms. She never minded it and clicked something on her phone. 

"Look at this," she handed me the phone. I glanced at her before picking the phone up to read what she's saying and—What the fuck is this? 

My eyes grew big as I read the first paragraph of the trashy article of our school's publication. Well, as cliché it may sound, we have this so-called "MalayanChika" made to publish some issues about the school's popular people. And that includes me.

I think this is really childish for a college school. I thought we are only here to burn our brows and break down every exam. If I will have a choice to study in a different school, I will. But since this is the most popular and exclusive school in Manila, I have nothing to say.

"Farrah's Hidden Type: The Campus Nerdy," it says on the title which made me roll my eyes. 

Then a picture of me entering Uno's Aston Martin is pasted behind the bold title. Ha. I scoffed and boringly give the phone back to Vanessa who's waiting for my reaction. 

"They told it a "big scoop"?" I burst into mocking laughter as I sat on my chair. 

"Make a comment and tell them to at least make a good title, Van." I calmly said but my mind is already in haywire. That is a big scoop! 

I bit my lips as I glanced at the whole room. They are whispering things I couldn't hear.

"What? You're talking about me?" I arched my brow as I glared at our classroom president. 

"Martinez, you're one of my Dad's scholars, right? Do you want to pay your tuition by yourself?" I grinned. The girl's face paled and shook her head continuously. 

"Good, then tell the publication to pull the trash off." 

Lunchtime has passed and the article has been removed but the people's stares are still the same. I angrily munched on my salad—which Uno referred to as a goat's food as I glared at them. 

A line appeared in between my brows as I furrowed it every time I hear my name.

"Can you stop talking shits about me?" I said in a calm yet loud voice to reach all the people inside the cafeteria. 

"Everyone who talks about me will be pulled out of my Dad's scholar list...and to those small-time investors, I'll never stop myself from pulling out all your money." I firmly said as I harshly put my fork down, making a sound behind the eerie silence.

I was about to stand up and leave the whole cafeteria when a girl stood proudly. 

"Yes! Who are you to make gossips about Farrah?! Shut your dirty mouths!" As if I was in a drama, all the heads of the students dramatically turned to face the girl. 

She's a Morena girl, with a middle length black hair and a white flowy dress. I tilted my head and walk towards her. 

"Who are you?" I asked as I stared at her.