The Pursuit of a Luna

Introduction

Kathlyn

Weirdo!

Corn-hair!

Weirdo!

Corn-hair!

Kathlyn shut her eyes tightly, trying to block out the memories. When she opened them again, she could still see the kids from elementary school, circling around her, chanting their cruel names. “Weirdo.” “Corn-hair.” It all started when they saw her talking to a kitten they couldn’t see. All they saw was her talking to herself, and that made them think she was crazy. And the corn-hair? That was just the color of her hair—maize, like corn.

The other kids stayed away, afraid of being bullied if they befriended her. She tried to make friends when she started high school, but that didn't go much better. The people she thought were her friends only talked behind her back because the boys they liked had a crush on her. This went on until the second year, when she finally found out what they were doing. By her third year, she met someone who was different—just a quiet student who didn’t mind being around her.

“Aira,” she called after school, about to leave. Aira looked at her but said nothing. “Manang already opened her stall. Let’s go,” she said, pulling Aira’s hand to stand up.

“Wait, let’s tag my cousin. He’s a weirdo like you,” Aira said, a smirk in her voice. Kathlyn laughed. Aira always said things without any hint of insult—just a statement of fact. Aira’s cousin joined them with his classmate.

“This is Andrei,” Aira’s cousin introduced his friend before introducing himself. Her cousin was Michael. He didn’t talk much, but he had a habit of staring.

They walked in silence to the stall in front of their room. “Manang, four porridge, please,” Kathlyn ordered, and the woman nodded. “Pay for your own order,” she told the others.

She caught Andrei smiling at her from the corner of her eye.

“Manang, I want liver in mine, and an egg,” Kathlyn added.

“We also have chicken available,” the woman offered.

“That’s a tough choice,” Kathlyn said, scratching her head. “Order chicken for yours, Aira.”

“I don’t like chicken,” Aira replied.

“Then I’ll eat it for you,” Kathlyn beamed, offering to share.

Aira just scoffed. “Tofu and egg for me, Manang,” she said.

Kathlyn smiled. “Liver and egg for me, Manang,” she settled on, letting out a small sigh.

“Chicken and egg for me, please,” Andrei said.

“Same,” Michael echoed.

They stood around while the lady prepared their food. When the orders were ready, they paid.

“Do you want the chicken?” Andrei asked, eyeing her.

“You don’t want it?” Kathlyn asked, surprised.

“Not really,” Andrei smiled.

“Okay,” Kathlyn said, quickly taking the chicken from his cup with her spoon. Andrei watched her as she did, and she felt his gaze on her.

“I can give you my egg,” Kathlyn offered with a mischievous smile.

“What a fair trade,” Aira commented from the side.

“No, it’s okay,” Andrei politely declined.

“Really?” Kathlyn asked, almost surprised by his refusal. He nodded, and her eyes lit up. “You are officially part of our group,” she declared, playfully resting her arm around his shoulders.

Andrei laughed. “I’m honored.”

After that, eating street food and snacking after school became their routine. Sometimes, they even had lunch together. Kathlyn was happy to have found a group she could feel comfortable with. She especially enjoyed hanging out with Andrei. He was different from the other boys—she could tell. He never teased her or asked her inappropriate questions. And, most importantly, he shared his food with her.

As they entered their last year of high school, they talked about the courses they wanted to take. Kathlyn still didn’t know what she wanted to do with her future.

One day, while walking down the corridor, she overheard a group of boys from another section talking about her. She knew it was her they were discussing. Her teeth clenched. This was basically catcalling, she thought.

“Kath, that’s your name, right?” one boy asked, stepping in front of her. She didn’t respond. “I was wondering if maybe I could get your number? We can text each other if you have time.” The other boys laughed, and she could feel their eyes on her. She didn’t like it.

The group tried to walk beside her, making her feel even more uncomfortable.

“I don’t have a number,” she replied coolly, though that wasn’t exactly true.

“Really?” the boy asked, sounding unconvinced.

“I have to go. Excuse me,” she said, trying to walk away, but the boy stepped in front of her. Without thinking, Kathlyn kicked him between the legs. He crumpled to the side, leaning against the corridor wall. Kathlyn turned to the other boys, her voice firm and loud. “The next one who bothers me will get kicked full in the nuts!” she warned.

The corridor fell silent. Even the students who hadn’t been paying attention to them stopped and stared. Kathlyn didn’t mind. She would never tolerate this.

She continued walking to her homeroom, but as she glanced to the side, she caught a glimpse of Andrei. He was staring at her. When their eyes met, he quickly looked away and hurried inside.

Oh, I don't mean you! She thought, her frustration softening.

Andrei

“You’ve been coming home late, Andrei. Do you have school activities? I thought you didn’t apply for the volleyball team this year?” his mother asked as he entered their home. It had always just been the two of them. He’d tried asking about his father before, but his mother always quickly dismissed the topic.

“Sorry, Mom. I had snacks with my friends after school, just outside the school building,” he explained.

His mother sighed. “Can you spend some time with me tonight?” she asked, a touch of loneliness in her voice.

“Sure. Why?” he asked, his curiosity piqued.

“Well, it’s always nice to spend time with family,” she said, her voice soft. He looked at her—slender, tall, and beautiful. He admired her elegance. “We could play piano and have tea. It’s been so long since you played for me,” she added, with a nostalgic smile. She went to fetch the cup she’d painted for him when he was a child.

“Mom, I’m not a kid anymore,” Andrei said, removing his shoes. “I need to focus on getting good grades to earn scholarships. College costs more than high school,” he explained. His mom had raised him on her own. She worked as a librarian at a nearby elementary school and taught piano on weekends. They were doing okay, but he knew it wasn’t easy to send him to college. He needed to do his part.

“We’ll make it somehow. You don’t have to worry about it,” his mother reassured him, her voice warm and reassuring. He smiled and nodded, heading to his room.