His Eyes

Chapter 1

"I’M HEADING OUT!” I yelled as I neared the front door.

Our house was a traditional two-story structure, but it wasn’t made of concrete. It was built entirely of wood—slat floors and thin plywood walls that vibrated whenever someone spoke loudly. It only looked decent from the outside because it was freshly painted blue with a bright red roof.

“Do you still have money?” my mother called out from the kitchen.

“Yeah, I still have some. Where’s Pa?”

“Still asleep. He was up late last night. Oh, son, if you could’ve seen how amazing Summer Pimentel perform—”

“Ma? I really have to go. I don’t want to be late,” I interrupted, cutting off her fangirl monologue.

She laughed. “Alright, alright. Take care.”

I shook my head as I walked out the gate. I still couldn’t believe my entire family had turned into diehard fans of that singer. They were practically the presidents of her fan club. What was her name again? Samurai? Suman? Siomai? Never mind.

Fast Forward

I was walking down the university hallway, adjusting my backpack as I hurried toward my first lecture. It was Monday morning, and the campus was buzzing. Students were scattered everywhere—some cramming for quizzes, but most were just caught up in public displays of affection. I sighed and refocused on where I was walking.

Which is, of course, exactly when my luck ran out.

Hot sauce splashed across my uniform. I looked up to find a girl holding a paper cup filled with street-food fishballs.

“Hi.”

I blinked. Small world, apparently — because I recognized her immediately.

“I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to spill it on you!”

She pulled a pink handkerchief from her pocket and began rubbing at my chest, trying to wipe away the stain. Her sudden proximity and the scent of sweet vanilla caught me off guard, but noticing the curious stares from passing students, I roughly pushed her hand away.

“Next time, watch where you’re going.”

She just smirked at that.

I checked my watch. Fifteen minutes until class. I didn’t have time for this. Her pink hair and Dora-the-Explorer haircut were practically burning my retinas, and her thick makeup looked even more bizarre in the morning sunlight. I turned on my heel and stormed off.

“And you?” she called after me. “Do you watch where you’re going?”

Are you kidding me right now. I turned around.

“Why wouldn’t I? Unlike some people, I don’t go around bumping into random strangers.”

I regretted the tone the second it left my mouth, but the way she’d talked to me — like I was somehow the one at fault — had gotten under my skin faster than I expected.

She rolled her eyes and started walking off. I turned to leave too, but she wasn’t done.

“So you were looking, huh? Well, maybe you should’ve stepped aside — you’d have seen me coming!”

I spun back around, eyes closed, fists clenched, ready to fire something back. I didn’t care who was watching anymore.

“So this is my fault now?”

One second passed.

Two.

Three.

Four.

When I opened my eyes, she was gone. I looked around, and half the students nearby were biting back laughter.

Unbelievable.

Class ended quickly enough after that. One more subject and I could finally head home — except I still had three hours to kill before my last class, so I found a quiet corner of the library to wait it out. I buried my face in a textbook and tried to forget about my ruined shirt.

“Hi.”

I nearly fell out of my chair as a figure suddenly materialized right in front of my desk.

Her. Again.

“What are you doing here?” I kept my voice low. The librarian, Ms. Alvarez, was notorious for kicking people out, and we were in the strict silent zone.

“Keeping you company,” she said, smiling like that explained anything.

I stared at her in disbelief. Why on earth did she style her hair like that? And the makeup was so thick it looked like a mask. I felt a sudden spike of paranoia—if anyone saw us together, they might think I was paying her for... services. Then again — if she was here, in the library — did that mean she went to this school too? Why hadn’t that occurred to me sooner?

“What’s your course?”

“HRM.”

I exhaled, relieved. At least we weren’t in the same department. But it was strange; I had never seen her face around campus before today.

“And you?” she asked, leaning closer.

“Secondary Education,” I said flatly, opening my book. I didn’t want to encourage a conversation. If I gave her the slightest bit of attention, she’d think I was interested.

“I heard that’s a hard course. Is it true?”

Why does she have so many questions? Couldn’t she see the blatant broadcast of my body language? I sighed when I realized she was actually waiting for an answer.

“Not really, for me.”

She kept smiling, her grin so wide it looked exhausting. “It must be tough, though. Teachers have to be so well-rounded and—” I slammed my book shut.

“Look, miss. I’m not interested,” I whispered fiercely, leaning across the table. “There are plenty of other guys on this campus you can hit on. Not me, okay? I don’t play those games. Besides, I don’t have money to throw away on you. Even if I did, I’d spend it on my tuition, not a motel room—”

She burst out laughing, clapping her hands over her mouth to muffle the sound. I stared at her, deeply offended. What was so funny about what I said? She was starting to seem genuinely unstable.

“Mister! I’m not a—” she never finished the sentence, dissolving into laughter again.

She was losing her mind right in front of me. I looked around nervously, but fortunately, no one else seemed to notice her muffled hysterics yet. She tried to explain herself a few times, but every attempt was cut short by another bout of laughter.

Defeated, I focused back on my book, completely ignoring her. She was a total lunatic.

“Okay. Calm down, Sam. Calm down,” she whispered to herself, taking deep breaths.

I shook my head. Absolutely insane.

“You know, mister,” she said, her voice suddenly serious as she leaned over the table. “If you think I’m a w**********l, an escort, or some cheap girl looking for a quick buck, you are dead wrong. This is just how I choose to look, okay? You’ve got the wrong idea. I just like dressing this way. But I’m a decent person.”

The second she said that last part, her expression crumbled, and she started crying. I panicked. I wasn’t used to seeing a girl cry — what was I supposed to do now? She was actually crying.

“H-hey, miss. Why are you crying?”

I hadn’t said anything that bad, had I? I definitely hadn’t laid a hand on her. I genuinely couldn’t think of a single reason for this.

“Because...” she sniffled, wiping her nose with her sleeve. “Those fishballs from earlier... they were so delicious. I lined up for so long, and when I bumped into you, they all fell on the floor. Only one was left. I worked so hard to get them.”

I sat there, utterly speechless. I thought she was experiencing some profound existential crisis or childhood trauma, and it was entirely about... street food?!

“Can you come outside with me? Let’s just go buy some. Please?”

I stared at her in absolute disbelief.

“No. Go buy them yourself. I’m studying, can’t you see?”

I regretted it instantly. She started crying again — damn it. I couldn’t take it anymore. I dragged a hand through my hair and stood up so abruptly my chair scraped loudly, drawing stares from the rest of the library.

“Wait! Where are you going? Hey! Wait for me!”

I ignored her. I was annoyed. Still, I could hear her sniffling right behind me the whole way out.

Childish.

Dora practically skipped with excitement once we got outside campus grounds, where the street food stalls lined the sidewalk. I usually came here after studying. I checked my watch — still had an hour and a half to spare.

“What are you staring at?”

Wasn’t she supposed to be buying something? Since we’d arrived, she’d done nothing but stare at me.

“I don’t have any cash on me,” she admitted sheepishly.

“WHAT?!” I yelled.

“I forgot my wallet.”

The vendor gave her a look, then glanced at me and shook his head.

Embarrassing.

I sighed and walked up, handing the man forty pesos.

“Two orders, please.”

The moment I handed her the food, she practically skipped back onto the campus grounds, overjoyed. She kept rambling about how many fishballs she got, how delicious the sauce was, and repeatedly praised my incredible generosity. I just walked beside her, quietly mourning the dent in my daily budget.

“How were you even planning to get home if you don’t have any money?” I asked.

She stopped in her tracks and slowly turned to face me; her cheeks completely stuffed with food. She looked exactly like a chipmunk.

“Getting home is not a problem, mister,” she said with a mysterious smile.

She really was strange.

We walked over to a secluded row of concrete benches beneath a massive, sprawling mango tree. It was one of my favorite spots on campus because it was isolated from the noisy crowds of students. I couldn’t stand loud places.

“You’re so quiet,” she remarked, swinging her legs.

I swallowed my food before replying. “Why do you care?”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t you have a class right now?”

Do you think I’d be sitting here buying you street food if I were supposed to be in a lecture? Common sense, Dora. “I have one later. What about you?”

“None.”

Silence.

She took a deep breath. “You know...” she began softly, looking down at her empty cup. “I’ve liked you for a really long time.”

I choked on my food. Unbelievable — this girl.

“Don’t mess with me.”

But no matter how much I tried to argue, she insisted she meant it — that she’d liked me for a while now, that she’d known who I was long before that night, that she’d been watching me from a distance. She said it had taken her that long to finally work up the courage to talk to me.

“It’s fine if you don’t like me back. What matters is that I told you how I feel.”

I froze when she suddenly took both my hands in hers. She looked directly into my eyes, and for a second, I felt an intense, magnetic pull. Her eyes were shimmering, reflecting the sunlight in a way that felt almost supernatural.

“It might not be the right time for me to tell you who I truly am,” she continued, her voice heavy with an emotion I couldn’t fathom. “But when that day comes... I promise you; your family will be so happy.”

I didn’t know what to believe. I was speechless the rest of the period, drifting through the lesson without absorbing a word. I couldn’t understand that girl at all.

She was impossibly mysterious.

I walked home that day with nothing else on my mind, but what she’d said. No matter how hard I tried to shake it off, her words kept circling back.