The Girl Next Door Who Dreamed of Distant Shore

‎“Stuck. Stuck. Stuck.” Liana muttered the word like a curse as she tapped her pen against her desk, watching empty chairs stare back at her. Her foreign language students were nowhere to be found—probably lost somewhere between the main building and her station, or worse, pretending to be lost to skip her lesson. “When does my life get a plot twist? I’m so tired of being the extra in my own story!” ‎ ‎Four hours of daydreaming and doodling hearts on her lesson plan later, the lunch bell blared like a battle cry. Finally. Time to wage war on her growling stomach at the faculty cafeteria. ‎ ‎“Hello, Cher! How was class—did you teach anyone how to say ‘I’m late’ in English today?” Andrea bounced up beside her, grinning so wide her cheeks looked ready to pop. ‎ ‎“Same old, same old,” Liana sighed. “One student asked if ‘pass the salt’ counts as conversational English. I told him only if he’s planning to dine with royalty.” ‎ ‎“Hurry hurry!” Carmela shrieked from across the hallway, diving past them like a woman on a mission. A cafeteria worker in a stained apron followed hot on her heels, holding a tray of steaming bowls high above his head. “Coming through! Move it or lose your chance at the good stuff!” ‎ ‎The cafeteria was already a madhouse—students and teachers packed like sardines, the air thick with the rich smell of pork stew and the deafening chatter of a thousand conversations all happening at once. Liana, Andrea, and their friend Sheila joined the snaking line, which moved slower than molasses in January. ‎ ‎“Gosh, I’m so hungry!” Sheila groaned, clutching her stomach dramatically. “I’m about to start chewing on my own arm—working these crack-of-dawn shifts is sucking the life (and all the food) out of me!” ‎ ‎“Awol kaayo!” Andrea cackled, elbowing her. “Next thing you know, you’ll be gnawing on the plastic spoons!” ‎ ‎“If I could just find me an afam who’ll spoil me rotten—why not? It works for some people!” Sheila shot back, flipping her hair with a sassy flick. “Maayo man ka kay naay afam, duh!” ‎ ‎“Did you see Maria’s new boyfriend?” Carmela whispered, her voice thick with awe. “He’s foreign—bought her a handbag that probably costs more than our monthly salary combined!” ‎ ‎Andrea let out a long, wistful sigh. “Sometimes I just wish… I don’t know… that someone would sweep me away from all this. No more counting pesos for groceries, no more begging the admin for better pay…” ‎ ‎Liana was listening to the conversation between Andrea and Carmela about AFAMs, trying (and failing) to look like she was totally focused on the food at the cafe area. "What a ridiculous life", she thought, glancing down at the crumpled lottery ticket she’d stuffed under her textbook. "Either I win the lotto and become a millionaire who can afford her Family's dreams… OR I find an AFAM who brings me one as a gift. Either way, I’m gonna be stuck with this boring life forever. It’s non-negotiable. ‎ ‎“Hey!” Liana hissed, yanking both of them forward as the line inched ahead. “The teachers behind us are giving us the death stare—we look like we’re about to start a fistfight over pakbet!” ‎ ‎“Yes, Mem!” they chimed in unison, fighting back grins as they shuffled forward. ‎ ‎“So what’re you getting, Shei?” Liana nudged her friend, eyeing the menu board (which hadn’t changed in three years). ‎ ‎“Whatever—like we have options!” Sheila snorted. “I’ll grab pakbet. At least it won’t make me feel like I swallowed a whole pig.” ‎ ‎“Ooh! I want pork caldereta—let’s split it!” Andrea begged, already salivating at the thought. ‎ ‎“No way! I had pork last night and my stomach’s doing the cha-cha!” Sheila shook her head. “Liana, you wanna be her dining buddy?” ‎ ‎“Sure—I’ll take half,” Liana shrugged. ‎ ‎“Thank you, sis! You’re an angel sent from heaven!” Andrea beamed, then stuck her tongue out at Sheila. ‎ ‎They finally claimed a wobbly table in the corner and dove into their food like they hadn’t eaten in weeks. Just as Liana was about to take her first bite, a shadow loomed over their table—and a familiar voice boomed: ‎ ‎“Hello mga meeeh!” Kolas laughed, plopping down uninvited with a tray that looked sad even by cafeteria standards. ‎ ‎“Come sit with us!” Andrea waved her spoon enthusiastically. “We’ve got extra rice… sort of.” ‎ ‎“Thanks mee!” Kolas said, setting down her tray. The mound of rice on her plate was so tiny, it looked like a sprinkle of sand. ‎ ‎“What’d you get?” Kolas asked Liana, peering at her bowl. ‎ ‎“Sharing Andrea’s caldereta,” she said, then raised an eyebrow. “Wait—are you on a diet? Last week you were eating two and a half scoops of rice like you were training for a food contest!” ‎ ‎“No meeeh!” Kolas groaned, resting her head on her hands. “I’m broke as a joke—salary’s not coming till next week, and that feels like a million years away!” ‎ ‎“Same mehh!” Sheila sighed, dropping her fork onto her plate with a clatter. ‎ ‎As they sat there commiserating over their empty wallets and full stomachs, Liana fished out her phone—and nearly choked on her food. 12:30 already?! She shot up so fast her chair skidded backward with a screech that echoed across the cafeteria. “I’ve gotta run! If I don’t hit the elevator now, I’ll get stuck in the ‘lunch rush trap’ and be late for my second shift!” ‎ ‎She bolted for the elevator, diving inside just as the doors were closing. She pressed the button for the third floor and tried to shrink into the corner—but then she heard two teachers chatting behind her: ‎ ‎“Did you see that new Russian student this morning?” Teacher Linda whispered, fanning herself like she’d just seen a celebrity. “Tall, dark hair, eyes like a stormy sea—so handsome it should be against the law!” ‎ ‎“Illegal is right!” Teacher Marla huffed, crossing her arms. “I tried to greet him in English and he just stared at me like I’d grown a second nose! Rude as a wet cat who just got a bath—that one!” ‎ ‎They went on and on about how he’d stormed out of their class because they’d mixed up his schedule, and how he’d snapped at the security guard who’d sent him to the wrong building. Liana felt a cold knot form in her stomach as pieces clicked into place. A Russian student… lost this morning… rude to everyone he meets… ‎ ‎Oh my gosh, she thought, her eyes going so wide they nearly popped out. What if that’s the same student who never showed up to my class?! Please tell me I didn’t just mentally assign him as my future lotto replacement—because now it sounds like he’d probably glare at my family’s dreams and then break my imaginary dishwasher just for fun! ‎ ‎The elevator dinged open on the third floor, and Liana practically leaped out. As she rushed to the bio-scanner, she kept muttering to herself: Please be someone else. Please be a totally different rude Russian. Please be anyone but the guy who’s supposed to be in my class… ‎ ‎But as she scanned her thumb and pushed open the door to her station, she froze. There, leaning against her desk with his arms crossed and that same stormy stare she’d heard about, was the tall stranger from the cafeteria. ‎ ‎“Ah,” he said, his voice deep and sharp as ice. “Teacher Liana. You leave lunch very fast. I wait here for you.” ‎ TO BE CONTINUED... ‎