Mirrored Vanity: Ce ix Hunter U

Chapter 3

Lan Hannie Sy's POV:

Day 2

Dear diary, here I am right now at the Ce Ix Hunter U grounds, standing in the middle of what feels like an expansive desert of solitude. All alone, no companion, and no disturbance—like a lone cactus in a sea of sand. The ground seems so quiet, I think I’m the first student to enter the campus, look how good I am. I mean, they should probably give me a medal for my punctuality, right? Anyway, the reason why the ground is quiet is because they're already in the classroom! I thought I was an early bird, but it turns out I’m more like an early ostrich, burying my head in the sand of my own misconceptions.

I peek around and see that the doors to the classrooms are locked tight, probably because the teachers are inside sipping their coffee and basking in the glory of their well-prepared lectures. I thought I was early, but girl, I'm just too early for the second period! It’s like I showed up to a party where everyone else decided to take a nap. But girl, this sucks! I am already having a bad record for the second day. I'm crying—not really, but metaphorically, because my social life is starting to resemble a deserted island, complete with palm trees that have given up hope.

I guess I could always explore this vast expanse of campus, but what if I accidentally stumble into a squirrel convention or something? I can already envision them judging my fashion choices, whispering about my mismatched socks as if they were the latest gossip. Ugh, the pressure! It's like I’m the star of a comedy show where the only audience is a bunch of judgmental critters.

So here I am, contemplating my life choices at this oddly serene hour, trying to convince myself that being early is a character-building exercise. But honestly, right now, it just feels like I’ve signed up for a one-person show with no script and no audience except for the occasional breeze that rustles through the leaves, probably mocking my predicament.

I can just imagine the headlines: “Girl Thinks She’s Early, Ends Up in Epic Solitude—More at Eleven!” If only I could fast forward to when I’m surrounded by friends, laughing at the absurdity of it all. Until then, I guess I’ll just have to make peace with my one-sided conversation with you, dear diary, and hope that my next entry won't be about how I mistook the chemistry lab for the art studio again. Fingers crossed!

Instead of sulking, I decided to head to the cafeteria. There are two: a small one with cheap, local snacks, and a big one with fancy, expensive food. Of course, I chose the fancy one. I mean, who can resist a good taco? It’s basically the culinary equivalent of a warm hug.

When I got there, it was empty, like a deserted island but with a vending machine that stole my money. I ordered a taco, a smoothie, and a footlong sandwich. I know, I can totally finish it all. Just as I was about to enjoy my meal, the bell rang. Suddenly, the cafeteria was filled with students, all rushing to get their food like they were competing in the Hunger Games. It was so chaotic that I half expected someone to shout, “May the odds be ever in your flavor!” Some of them were so loud, it was almost unbearable, like a rock concert where the lead singer has lost his voice.

I grabbed my order and found a quiet spot in the classroom. I was just about to enjoy my food when I realized I could be the protagonist in a cheesy romance novel. You know, the scene where I’m alone, eating a sandwich, and a handsome stranger comes to my rescue. But instead of a handsome stranger, I found my classmate, Nitchie, buried in a book like it was her lifeline.

I decided to be friendly and offered her some of my food. “Hey, want some taco?” I asked, holding it out like a peace offering. She looked up, surprised, as if I’d just offered her a golden ticket to Willy Wonka’s factory.

"Oh, thank you. You're very kind," she said, her voice tinged with a hint of surprise. "I'm Nitchie by the way. How about we become friends?" she added, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

I looked at her intensely, trying to gauge if she was serious, and then muttered with a smirk, "No, thank you."

"W-what? W-why not?" she stammered, her cheerful demeanor faltering as she processed my abrupt response.

I couldn't help but laugh at her bewildered expression, which was a delightful mix of confusion and concern. "Because I don't make friends with low creatures," I teased, wiggling my fingers in a mockingly dramatic fashion as if casting a spell to conjure up a swarm of imaginary "low creatures."

Nitchie's face fell, and I could see the hurt flicker across her features, but honestly, I was having too much fun to care. It was all in good humor, right? "Kidding aside, Nitchie, of course! Let's be friends, or better yet, besties?" I added with a wink, hoping to mend the moment with a playful tone.

Her face brightened almost instantly, and I could tell she was relieved. "Besties it is!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together with infectious excitement. "Just think of all the adventures we could have! We could go on epic quests, like searching for the best ice cream in town or discovering the secret hideouts of the neighborhood squirrels!"

I chuckled at her enthusiasm. "Epic quests, huh? I can already see us battling the mighty Ice Cream Cones of Doom!" I raised an imaginary sword made of a plastic spoon, striking a heroic pose. "But beware, for they come with sprinkles of treachery!"

Nitchie giggled, her laughter ringing like a melody that brightened the air around us. "And don't forget the ferocious Chocolate Chip Cookie Monsters that guard the stash! We'll need to strategize our approach!"

It was amusing to see how quickly we fell into this ridiculous banter, each of us building on the other’s silly ideas. "Absolutely! We’ll need a plan, a map, and maybe even a secret handshake," I replied, raising an eyebrow as I considered the complexities of our imaginative endeavors. "But first, we must establish our bestie code. Rule number one: Always share your fries."

"Deal!" she said, shaking my hand with the seriousness of a sworn pact. "And rule number two: Never let the other person eat the last bite of pizza without a fight!"

As we exchanged mock-serious expressions, I realized that this unexpected friendship was going to be a lot more entertaining than I had ever anticipated. Who knew that low creatures could lead to such high spirits?

We ended up chatting for a while, and to my delight, she turned out to be pretty cool. She shared her thoughts on the latest book she was reading, and I realized she’s not as stuck-up as I thought she was. Who knew that behind that bookworm exterior, there was a fellow taco enthusiast waiting to be discovered?

We made plans to hang out more, and I think we’re going to be good friends. I mean, who wouldn't want a friend who's willing to share their food? That’s like finding a hidden treasure in a cave full of snacks!

We were just chatting when the other students started coming in. Our teacher, Mrs. Rosmellia Suarez, walked in and immediately started our lesson. She asked us a bunch of questions about Jose Rizal and his novels. I didn’t raise my hand for any of them. I mean, who wants to look like a know-it-all? I prefer to blend in like a chameleon, which is ironic because I don’t even like reptiles.

One of my classmates, Gideon, seemed to know everything about Rizal. He answered all the teacher's questions perfectly, and I could almost hear the sound of his ego inflating with each correct answer. He even compared the Philippines under Spanish rule to a cancer. I kind of forgot the reason why Rizal used that comparison, but Gideon's answer sounded smart enough to be in a textbook, or at least a really good meme.

I was so nervous when Mrs. Rosmellia asked me to answer her question. I knew the answer, but I was still scared of getting it wrong. So, I took a deep breath, channeled my inner superstar, and answered, trying to sound as confident as possible. Please don’t let me mangle the answer like a taco falling apart, I thought.

After class, Nitchie came up to me and said, “You were amazing back there! Gideon was totally checking you out.” I just blushed and laughed it off. I mean, I don’t know about all that. I was just trying to survive the class, not star in a rom-com!

We walked out of the school together, and she couldn't stop talking about how smart I was. I guess she thought I was some kind of genius, like Einstein, but with a penchant for tacos. Honestly, I was just lucky that I remembered the answer to that one question about Rizal’s literary genius, which is basically the academic version of winning the lottery.

It was a long day, but it was also a good day. I made a new friend, and I didn’t get into any trouble—yet. I’m starting to think that maybe this school won’t be so bad after all. Who knows? Perhaps tomorrow, I’ll discover a secret taco society or find out that Gideon is actually a superhero in disguise. The possibilities are endless, and I can’t wait to see what adventure awaits!