The Drift that Made Us

Chapter 4

MYSTY

I noticed a box on my bed when I put on my favorite pair of nude knee boots while seated in front of the vanity mirror. I opened it, and in front of me lay a lightning-shaped bag studded with shining yellow crystals. The bag’s lining had the black of the same kind of crystals.

I immediately opened the bag’s zipper, and a note welcomed me.

“This is a special bag, and I am giving it to you because you’re the most precious sister in the world. Turn it on!” Kuya Martin even signed it at the bottom of the paper. My brother was the sweetest. But he had the worst handwriting ever! Probably, for good luck since it was my first day at Wheeler University.

Turn it on? Could the bag light up when switched on? Possibly! I searched for the switch, and it was inside the bag. I almost threw it when a female voice said, “Owner saved.” What was that?

When I reached the dining area, my parents were already seated. My dad ate breakfast silently while my mom talked to my generous big brother.

“Hey, Mat-mat, here’s your sister. You two should talk.” I placed my new bag on the cabinet beside our home phone before sitting beside my mom. Mom passed me her tablet, and Kuya’s zoomed face surprised me.

“Mom! Please, goodness! Please stop calling me that! It’s either Martin or Matt! Let’s move on from my childhood nickname.” I had no idea if our mother heard him, but my brother’s forehead formed lines.

It was so unfair! He demanded to be called Matt, but he still called me by my childhood nickname, Em-em. I didn’t even complain because I thought we had the understanding to stick to our nicknames.

I couldn’t speak for other families, but in this household, our parents had this weird habit of calling us by our full first name when scolding us. So, we called Mysty and Martin to signal that we were in trouble. I was not sure if I should laugh or what. Why was it so hard to raise parents?

“Mat-mat, just let me be, okay? It’s too late to change your nickname because you’re 33 years old!” My mom said; she emphasized Kuya’s age. She squeezed in with me so Kuya could see her on the screen.

“That’s the point, Ma! What if my workmates hear you? There will be endless teasing!” Martin started to sulk like a kid, so our mother surrendered.

“Just leave your name alone, big brother!” I tried to sound English but failed though he grinned because of it.

“Where’s my baby sister? Go away! Bad spirit!” He laughed so hard.

“Why are you crazy?” I asked. I stuck my tongue out to tease him while Mom continued to eat breakfast.

“Kuya, you’re so annoying. Ma doesn’t want to talk to you anymore!” I teased him more and more because his angry face was funny.

“You’ve gone mad, huh?” He renounced it, and so I giggled.

“And so?” I’m not backing down. I reached for the fried rice across the dining table and transferred some to my plate. My brother was silent, and I thought he had dropped the call. The fried rice was an excellent breakfast with tocino and sunny-side-up eggs.

“Kuya?” I asked while I used the water pitcher as a tablet stand.

“Seriously, Em, enjoy your last year in high school! That’s all I want from you. Studies are important, but having fun is as important!” He smiled after giving me the “enjoy school” talk.

“Okay, Kuya! Thank you for the bag. It looks incredible!” I chirped.

“You’re welcome! Be careful!” He answered with a supportive smile.

“Em-em, is this yo—!” our mom yelled, so I immediately shifted my gaze to her.

“Ma!” I instantly stood and went to her to check what had happened.

“Em-em, you didn’t turn off the switch?” The big brother asked. Beads of sweat started to form on his forehead.

“MARTIN HERRERA!” Mom was furious, and my brother would receive an earful of scolding.

“Are you okay, Ma?” I asked an obvious question. Mom glared at me and said,

“You should be careful with this,” she said, and I just nodded.

“Bye, Em!” The brother dropped his video call as soon as he heard his name.

I placed the tip of my index finger in the bag to check if the bag still exuded electric shocks. Good thing, it stopped, and the female voice said, “Shock report: An unknown human tried to open the bag. I deployed electric shocks for increased strength. M out,” the bag was weird! Why would Kuya Martin give me a bizarre talking bag? Not a kid anymore, big brother! A seven-year-old would think this was cool, but it crept me out.

“Sorry, Mom, what are you gonna load in the bag?” I asked her, and almost instantly, she showed me what was in her hand, a bag of chocolates.

“Thank you, Mom!” I opened the zipper and shot it inside. “Bag of chocolates listed.” the voice said again. It was like a talking fridge.

I decided to wear a maroon long-sleeved dress matched with nude knee-high boots. I hope this studded lightning-shaped bag worked well with my ensemble.

I reached Wheeler University’s front gate an hour later, and a man who wore a security uniform welcomed me. After paying the fees online, the email pointed out that new students should head straight to the cloud center for the welcome packet.

I parked my car in front of the cloud center and proceeded inside. There were holograms of students in red shirts hiking a mountain. Whoa! Cool. Wheeler, one, APU, zero.

A woman dressed similarly to a flight attendant appeared before my eyes with the most welcoming smile and said, “How can we help you today?”

“I just got here. It said in my email that I must be here first for the welcome packets?” I felt like I rambled. Thank goodness the woman understood.

“Welcome! Can you please state your name and incoming grade?” She said with a plastered smile as if she had been doing it for years.

I communicated the information needed, and while the woman excused herself for a few moments after typing what I told her on her computer, I scanned the area. A floor-length led screen showed school activities like hiking, camping, and cooking on the grounds. These students were inside a bus, probably on a trip, and there was an overwhelming quantity of cars, motorcycles, and other vehicles known to man.

The receptionist returned, holding a black paper bag, and handed it to me immediately.

“Thank you!” I muttered, and she said, “You’re welcome!” in her cheerful and excited voice that she maybe practiced a thousand times or more.

When I turned, I examined the paper bag. The black looked elegant, and the velvety texture made it high-quality. The engraved gold spelled ‘Wheeler University’ across it. Jaw dropped, wide-eyed. I read the box inside, “Xpad, the new age.” Oh wow, this tablet costs ten times compared to the high-end tablets on the market. I wanted one, but Martin said it was too much for a tablet. Jokes on you, Kuya. I have one now. Wheeler, two, APU, zero.

As I climbed into the driver’s seat, my phone rang. It was Reed. I immediately shut my eyes and took deep breaths to calm down. I learned this from a K-drama as well. He couldn’t know that I was still a mess after weeks of our ‘break up.’ I took my last deep breath, which seized all my remaining strength to answer the call.

“Hello?” I said, trying to be calm, and used my ‘I don’t care about you” voice.

“Mysty?” He asked. And everything that happened that night came rushing back like a snake bit me in the butt.

“Reed,” I said after shaking my head.

“Can we meet?” He asked, and I suddenly dropped the call, not knowing what to say.

I parked my car at a sweet spot. I noticed there were students everywhere, and they all wore fashion statements.

“All students are requested to gather in front of the cloud stage in fifteen minutes,” A voice said, and it broadcasted across the university. People started to head to the “cloud stage,” wherever that was, but I froze for a few seconds, confused.

“Hi! Are you new here?” a girl said. Did I have a sign on my forehead that screamed that I was a transferee? The girl who approached me had long hair and a slim figure. We were on the same height span.

“Uh, yes. Hello!” She walked closer to me. She was eyeing me from head to toe. Why would she do that? Close, she had colossal doll eyes with apparent help from contact lenses.

“I’m Zai, and you are?” she said after smiling at me. She was wearing deep red lipstick. Her smell lingered in the air; it was citrusy like she had bathed in a pool of oranges.

“I’m Mysty. Nice to meet you!” The short dress she wore matched her lipstick. She finished the look with black ankle peep-toe boots, and It was an incredible ensemble. And her hair rested low on her bac, but let a few strands break free.

“Is your dress from Phoebe’s Closet?” Zai asked.

“Yeah, why?” I replied.

“I love Phoebe’s closet! This dress is from them, too!” Oh, I remembered the dress she was wearing, though too flashy for my taste. It suited her.

“Coincidence, huh?” I blurted out.

“No, it’s fate! Fate!” Did she call it fate? Wasn’t that too much? Oh well, new friend alert.

“Who is it this time?” A tall, gorgeous girl walked in our direction. Zai was charming and had a welcoming aura. This new incoming girl had a way of carrying herself. She wore confidence, and what clothes she had didn’t even matter. I looked at Zai, and she ran to the girl, yelled, “Rejine May!” and hugged her.

“Who are you talking to?” she asked Zai, looking at me.

“Oh, it’s Mysty!” They were both near me, close enough to gaze at their ensembles.

“Hey!” She said,

“Aye!” Did I say ‘aye’? Ugh, fail.

“I’m Mysty,” she gave me a tiny smile.

“Rejine May, nice to meet you,” she said. Zai was staring at her the whole time.

“Me too!” our little meet and greet got interrupted by a voice from the speakers,

“Good morning, everyone!” We decided to walk to the field across the parking lot for the Cloud Stage. Zai introduced me to the places we could see from where we were standing. The funny thing was places here started with the word “Cloud,” cloud clinic, cloud library, and cloud cafeteria, to name a few.

“Again, good morning! Welcome back, students, and welcome to the new ones. I hope you like Wheeler so far. I’m Miss Langit, your headmistress.” Was it a coincidence that the last name of the headmistress was Heaven? and this school screamed clouds? Zai and Rejine May stared at the led screen like everyone else.

“Please check your Xpad and head to the Wheeler Registrar app for your class sections this school year. Have a great day, all!” She said and vanished from the screen.

“We’ll check our sections right now?” I asked them. We might be late for classes if we didn’t know where we belonged.

“Okay, let’s!” Zai exclaimed, and we checked the registrar app for our class section.

“Class E,” I said, and they smiled at me.

“Same!” Zai said.

“Me too!” Rejine May said.

The cheerful girl looked at mine and Rejine May’s backs and said, “Is that Uno? Oh my gosh! He’s driving a Xavi!” We glanced in the direction she was gazing, and my mouth hung.