Twice The Trouble

Chapter 4: Starting College

Stacy

"Sop,  I'm really sorry," I told my sister, who was quietly brushing her long brown hair while standing in front of the mirror in the living room.

She said nothing.

"Oh,what did you do now?" Bro Allan, a good friend of Ate Jolene's brother, hollered. He was 22 and worked as an accountant in a successful firm. He had black bangs swept over his green eyes and a tall, lean figure.

Instead of answering, I fired back another query as I glared at him. "What are you doing here at six in the morning??" Never mind that he was four years my superior, he was a constant ass.

The tall, arrogant jerk pointed at his work uniform; his white shirt said SENTIMENTAL SWEETS, referring to the prominent bakery that Ma May and Pa Ben owned and managed just across our house. It was based here in QC, but that didn't stop a horde of customers from traveling near, far or beyond just to sample a taste of the Ate Jolene's incredible confections. She was the main baker/chef of the business, but she was also a part-time event planner.

Bro Allan had a courier stint at S.S. He was the driver of the delivery truck, and though he would never admit it, he also pops by every now and then because Ate Jasmine, his ex, helped Ate Jolene with the baking and management sometimes.

"Sop, I'm sorry," I apologized again, imploring her forgiveness, which I've profusely been doing in the past twenty minutes that we got ready for our very first day as college students.

"Oh, what happened now?" Bro Benny, Ate Jolene's older brother, inquired as he bit into a sloppy breakfast sandwich before he would leave for his job that morning.

"Nothing! Just go!" I unabashedly told him, shoving him out the door, but he was chuckling, visibly impervious to my rudeness.

Bro Mack, one of our 23-year-old cousins, groggily descended the staircase, dressed in nothing but duck-printed boxers.

"What the hell! Mack,what's with the nudity?" I demanded. Usually, he wore pajama bottoms, so how was this any different anyway?

The dark-haired adult ignored me and prepared himself some breakfast. It was his day-off.

"Sophia, please talk to me," I pleaded with my twin. There. She knew I never begged,let alone apologized to any human being besides her. So when it does happen, she knows I'm genuine.

My 18-year-old sister completed tying her hair into a high ponytail, and she slung her green backpack over her shoulders. Green was her favorite color. Pink was mine.

"Let's go or we'll be late," Sophia told me, looping her arm around mine, and I mentally breathed a sigh of relief. That small gesture meant she was simmering down, that she sort of forgave me for the incident yesterday, but it was progress.

Repentance and redemption. I deemed this transition as a great way to start our Monday.

To further earn brownie points with Sop, I paid for both our jeep fees after we mounted the most well-known commuting method in the Philippines.

Orion University was two jeep rides away from our home in Quezon City, so it took almost thirty minutes to and from the school, which wasn't much of a hassle apart from the traffic.

During our second ride, Sophia rested her head on my shoulder for a moment, and I hastily knew that she was growing bothered of the smoky environment and slow movement of cars.

At a quarter to seven, we arrived at the prestigious Orion University, a palatial college coated in white and navy blue, the color of the starry sky dotted with constellations.

"Wow," my bespectacled sister breathed out, awestruck by the tall, wide buildings and lush trees and greenery surrounding the gates and outdoor gardens as we strolled the corridors.

Hmm. Not bad, I thought, inspecting the college which we would attend for the next four years. It was massive, luxurious, opulent, and splendid. There were several buildings, and multiple hangouts like a huge garden, miscellaneous benches and tables amidst ferns and bushes, and a gorgeous three-tiered water fountain located in the middle of the quadrangle.

Plus, there were hundreds of cute guys as far as the eye could see.

On the other hand, there were just as many girls, and it was no puzzle why Orion was labeled as the most-liked University in the Philippines; One, students were allowed to wear contact lenses and colorful hair. Two, they have the best facilities and clubs. Three, rumors said that the teachers were fun and lenient. And lastly, they have fashionable uniforms.

While walking alongside Sophia to an unknown destination, I admired my reflection in the windows which stretched for miles and miles, as long as the corridors could reach.

I decided to wear my yellow hair down, giving it freedom to bounce softly against my back.

And my uniform mirrored Sophia's: I wore a dark gray vest, a white short-sleeved polo with a deep blue necktie, and a pencil skirt that matched my blue tie. My long legs ended in a pair of black, 2-inch heels, which I was immune to walking in.

"Stacy! Stacy!" a voice called from a distance.

Sophia ceased in her tracks and craned her neck to eye me strangely.

I lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "Don't look at me. I didn't arrange anything."

Together, my twin and I peered through the tidal wave of hustling and bustling college students, a sea of freshmen, sophomores, juniors and seniors rushing to their respective classrooms.

"Maybe it was another Stacy," my sibling suggested, but her expression was dubious.

"STACY-Y-Y-Y-Y!" The voice bellowed a third time.

More heads popped up with curiosity. Whoever was yelling suddenly caused some chaos.

"STACY!"

Finally, Sophia and I caught sight of a breathless teenager with messy black hair, a white polo shirt with a blue necktie, and a pair of blue pants, and he was dashing towards my direction.

Huffing and puffing, the good-looking guy doubled over in exhaustion, and he quickly wiped away the sweat from his brow using the back of his hand before thrusting forward a small red box in front of me.

"This is for you," he panted, catching his breath.

I tilted my head to one side, then peered closely at his flushed face. Oh no. It was him.

"Thanks, but no thanks," I told him, rebuffing his meaningful gift. I pushed it away.

"But Stacy--" he protested but I cut him off.

"Who is he, Ace?" My bewildered twin asked me.

"Oh, he's just an ex-boyfriend," I bluntly answered her.

A flash of hurt crossed the guy's face. "Stacy, please give me another chance."

"How come I don't remember him?" Sophia asked.

"Since when do my exes interest you?" 

She smiled a little. "Fair point. Come on. It's five minutes to seven. We have to go."

"Of course," I replied, but before we could leave, my former boyfriend blurted out:

"Stacy! I enrolled in this school because I still love you and I want to win you back. Please accept my small token of affection. It's your favorite, strawberry-flavored chocolates!"

Again, he held out his red box of candy, but I wrinkled my nose in disgust. Trying to buy me with diabetes? So over it. I feigned deafness to the catcalls and cheers of nearby students, goading me to give him a second chance and commenting on how sweet he was, making an effort.

I turned my back on him, uncaring of the boos and hatred sent my way due to my brusque rejection of Mark Domingo.