I'm Sorry, Don't leave Me!

The Sixth Rule

“It is the beginning of wisdom when you recognize that the best you can do is choose which rules you want to live by, and it's persistent and aggravated imbecility to pretend you can live without any.”

― Wallace Stegner, All the Little Live Things

It was a bright Saturday mid-morning, summer of May 2011, when I arrived at the School of Santa Isabel College of Manila (one of the oldest Institutions in the Philippines, founded in 1632) with my two travelling bags stuffed with clothes and things necessary for my four-year stay. My bones complained as I dragged the bag out of the taxi I hired.

To give you the context, I applied for Intern Scholarship in that institution designed for the poor but deserving students. I was luckily admitted and accepted as one among the 44 Intern Scholars. We will be housed in a dormitory inside the school with free food, tuition fees and miscellaneous fees. We will however, return the school’s generosity with four hours of duty and by following the Scholarship Programs’ rules and regulations.

I don’t mind about anything except to finish my College and to land a good job in order to help my family. As I entered the School’s gate, the School’s social worker named Miss Lissa probably in her forties welcomed me and ushered me directly to the dormitory. Seeing me dragging the two heavy travelling bags, she called one of the boys who at the moment were assigned as information officer of the day. He wore a black polo shirt that matched perfectly with his blue pants and white rubber shoes. He stood about 5’4 in height, brown eyes, pointed nose, short curly hair and a fair complexion. He smiled beautifully when he saw me and carried my two bags up the stairs to the third floor, which revealed the hard bulging muscles he’s been hiding in his sleeves. I admired how strong this guy was compared to my flimsy features which according to my friends way back in Bicol, “with just one blow of the wind I would surely be carried away.” I’m quite impervious to what they say actually, for me,  I am enough and beautiful in my own way---with my dark straight hair, small eyes, cute nose, red thin lips in a small oval face with skin-kissed by the sun and slim body designed with perfect curves.

Finally, we reached the girl’s dormitory which was in the third floor of the building; the guy placed my bags in one of the spacious rooms painted in pink, tiled and with two double deck beds. 

“Thank you Anthony!” Miss Lissa said with a grateful smile.

“You’re Welcome Miss.” He responded as the guy went outside the room after the favor was done.

“So, your name is Anthony. Thank you so much and nice to meet you.” I quickly said as he about to pass by me.

“You’re welcome… uhmm…” he stopped and stared at me not sure what to say as we got no formal introduction. We were both shy by then.

“Steffany Gail Palmes…just call me Steff.” I gave my shy smile and put out my hand.

“Nice to meet you Steff!” he took my hand, squeezed it a little harder and winked at me.

“Mmmmm…playboy scent!” I sniffed as I made a senseless and groundless judgment as he walked towards the stairs.

That was Anthony who according to my first impression--handsome, kind, charming but playboy. Later, I would know that his full name is Mark Anthony Jimenez, one of the newest Intern Scholars who arrived a month ago from Aurora, Quezon—the birthplace of one of Philippine Presidents, Manuel L. Quezon who served the country during the Commonwealth period. 

There was nothing special on the first day we met---no butterflies in the stomach, no special connections, no love at first sight, absolutely no delightful feelings and only a groundless judgment that came from my gut.

On my first day, I was introduced to all my colleagues who from seven of them will soon become my good friends. They gave me a warm welcome and asked me a lot of questions regarding my place which was Bicol. I would understand the source of their boiling curiosity and that was the perfect cone-shape Mayon Volcano that appeared majestically at the center of Bicol’s Capital. I told them the story of my place and the legend that surround Mount Mayon.

The little chit-chat I had with my new found colleagues and friends came to an abrupt stop when the bell sounded angrily. 

“What was that?” I asked in a surprise tone with my eyes looking sideways. My colleagues chuckled --amused at my reactions.

“Don’t be too surprise because you are going to love that sound of the bell from now on.” One of them said chuckling.

“Oh really…I guess it will be hard to fall in love with those angry sounds.” I countered honestly hearing the last deafening angry sound of the bell which lasted a couple of seconds. It was a signal for lunch break.

Being an amateur in almost everything, my head was replete with lots of question that was thankfully cleared as the orientation begun in the afternoon.

When the orientation for the house rules was done, the schedule for the entire week was handed to me.

Ohhh—I couldn’t believe my eyes as I stared.

Oh boy! The schedule was super-duper tight as I ran through it from the moment of waking up to bed at night. 

“We always have longer days here and shorter nights.” I commented while running through the schedule.

“You’ll gonna love that too!” another scholar bantered.

“I hope..” was my response half positively.

I just couldn’t believe on the kind of discipline that the Program imposed---Spartan discipline I would say! 

‘Could I survive with this schedule?’-- Was the question that lingered in my head as I lay in bed. 

There will only be three months left before the start of the semester and that three months will be for rigorous training, adjustments and familiarization. Yet, time flies so fast as three months passed like a snap of the giant’s finger for because of our busyness I could not even feel the passing of days. 

Just before the start of the opening of classes, a general assembly was held, for us to sign formally the MOA (Memorandum of Agreement) with the rules and regulations of the program clearly stated and explained properly. I’ve tried to memorize some of them which were to me very important.

1st rule: No failing grade

2nd rule: Must render 4 hours of duty

3rd rule: Pay the monthly allowance of five hundred pesos

4th rule: Obedience to the Administration and duty-in –charge

5th rule: Must join in the common schedule

6th rule: NO COURTSHIP POLICY

7th rule: Entitled for vacation every cut off of the semester

8th rule: Observe GMRC and values of honesty, transparency and Charity

Every violation of the program’s rules was considered a breach in the contract and the Intern will be sent home. 

The Scholarship coordinator dwelt especially on the 6th rule which was the “NO COURTSHIP POLICY” written in bold letters–-the breakdown of some Scholars and the greatest sacrifice of many. 

The Scholars who were in the higher years would tell us some stories and epics of other scholar-evictee who had given up their quest in defiance to the sixth rule. Some would brave sneaking out in the middle of the night just to see the beloved in the tryst usually at high places like the roof top or the darkest ones like inside the farthest classroom. 

And the results of the forbidden love?... was always dangerous---dreams were put on hold, values were compromised and love for family was abandoned.

When I heard it, I vowed I wouldn’t be one of them. 

As the Assembly ended, we were informed of our duty assignment-- moment of intense nervousness and tension. Here, all were glued to the screen projector while our names were mentioned for our designated duty assignments. I just selectively focused on my name. I sounded so pathetic but that’s all I care about at the moment.

Ooops! Maybe I got my self-assessment all wrong because the time when Anthony’s name was mentioned as my companion in a duty area, I started to feel distracted. He turned his head towards my seat and when I caught his eyes, he gave a wry smile. I chuckled at how his face was distorted.

I admitted that besides the seven friends I got in three months, Anthony was the only guy whom I felt comfortable to be with. However, I always keep him at arm’s length not wanting to incur “Guy as friend” issue. It didn’t matter to me actually but inside the program to have some close guys as friend would invite some suspicious eyes around to zero in on you. And I don’t like that---I want to live peacefully as much as possible. 

However, the call of duty drew us closer that keeping him at arm’s length would be impossible and the former inevitable. So that’s it!

The semester started and we were on our toes when it comes to time of duty, study and pray. Almost everyone made sure that they had followed the schedule or else punishment waited for you at the door. At first, it was such so arduous to juggle both study and work but in the name of dreams, love for family and degree everything made sense and acutely manageable. Of course, with few friends alongside me whose presence encouraged me to work with diligence and the presence of Anthony in the duty area that had given me relief from stress. 

“Hey, Steff…you look like an angry bird. What’s going on?” He asked me one day as I tried to decipher the instructions of our boss for an important matter to be attended during the day.

“Look at these creased brows.” He playfully straightened my brows which contracted into some creased because of too much concentration.

I looked at him with dagger eyes as he interrupted my concentration.

He raised his hands in the air smilingly. 

“I mean no harm---I just want you to prolong your youth.” He said with extravagant gestures- like an orator.

“Frowning and concentrating can cause your skin to age early while smiling and relaxing are…. Ehmmmm ….age defying.” He further added with deliberate slowness and emphasis with matching extravagant hand and body gestures.

“Wheehhh….Your source?” the skeptic in me asked.

“It’s right before you..Look at my….auuuuraaaa!” He extended his hands side wards and made a mock aura pose.

I guffawed.

“The source looked like a frustrated ballet dancer…who would dare to believe?” I said and he made a pivot but suddenly stumbled upon the corner of the table.

“Ouch…my bones....” He agonized as he touched his hipbones.

I burst into a silent laughter and said, “That’s the expression of older people and here between me and you? You turned out to be the oldie." I teased him.

 'Ouch....my bones....” I said in imitation of his voice and gestured like an old person who suffered from Arthritis.  

He giggled at how funny I looked while he helped himself walked towards the nearest seat.

He had become my happy pill sort off because he never ran out of ways to make me smile and laugh---thing that I appreciated him a lot. He was like my sunshine as I described him to my friends one day and my crazy friends didn’t let it slip in their consciousness. They would tease me by singing “You are my Sunshine, my only sunshine…you make me happy when skies are gray…” whenever they caught sight of Anthony. When this happened, I found it extremely hard to silence them---always found myself pleading. 

Although, Anthony had started to become a heart distraction because whenever I won’t see him in a day, I would surely missed him,  I never had lost my focus and always see to it that I never deviate from what I want. To my mind, I can always handle myself and my emotions because my dream was bigger than those passing things. 

Funny how fate would play a trick on me because the moment I thought everything was under my control---there’s one thing that unconsciously slipped into my controller and that was the insurmountable attraction for Anthony. I would never know that the lonely hunter in me had spotted a good catch. Only until my friends had notified me of my unconscious actions whenever Anthony was around that all nerves and senses were alarmed, got panicked and apprehensive of the coming “danger” that I sensed ---the danger of falling in love. The red alert button in my consciousness was pressed and sounded.

And you know what quickly I thought about? It’s the Sixth rule.

“I’mmmmm….Screeeeweddd…” I shouted at the back of my mind.