The Conspiration of the Universe

Chapter 3

3

Matt’s alarm clock woke me up this morning. I’m just glad that today seems to be a perfect day. These were the days where little birds flutter by your window and chirps you a mellow song. The one’s where the sun seems to give life and happiness to our room and envelops us with warmth and glee and I just know that.

“You’re in a good mood huh?” Matt said exiting the bathroom fully-dressed yet his hair is all soaked and tousled. He might have beaten his own alarm clock. “Ah, yes. You’re up early.” I groggily recognized.

“Yeah, I was awakened by your obstreperous snore.” he said teasingly. Obstreperous? Where did he pick up that word?

“Funny, since it was your alarm clock which awakened me. So I think we’re even.

“Coffee” he offered.

“Yeah, thanks! I would just take a shower first.”

Matt began to heat the water in the kettle and grabs two instant coffee on the cabinet while I prepared my clothes.

Our bathroom was just small and simple. White tiles cover the entire floor up to the walls of it and a huge rectangular mirror greets me every time I shower. Sometimes I hate this mirror since it makes me realize how messed up my body is. Seeing my not-so slender naked body reminds of my flaws, extracting confidence out of my system. But today was not the day.

After a brief shower of lukewarm water, I dried myself up and wore my navy blue long sleeves polo and my gray jeans. I folded the sleeves of my right up to the elbow to lessen the formality of my attire. Also I was reminded that Sydney likes my hair styled so with my very best effort I combed it with my bare hands even though I want it dishevelled just the way it is after I showered.

As I exit the bathroom, I could just smell the aroma of the coffee that Matt has brewed (even though it just an instant coffee). “Hey! You look different! You appear to be civilized. Got a date with Sid?” Matt said, already preparing his bag for school. I smirked of the thought.

“Yeah, I guess. It’s her 16th birthday and I‘ve got a little surprise for her.” I notified.

“Wow. You’re really into her, huh. And she’s just sixteen. She’s really young for a college student isn’t she? I don’t know but it is pretty pedo of you.”

“I’m not a pedophile! The gap is only a year you know.” I rebutted.

“Sure. Anyway your coffee is getting cold.”

“I like my coffee lukewarm so it’s okay.” I assured.

“You’re weird pedo-Luke.”

“I know.”

***

Half an hour from now and we will be dismissed on our social science class. Our professor, Mrs. Briones, was talking about social mobility, an idea where everyone is bound to meet and socialize only with the people having the same social class as they have, unless one takes a move that shall alter one’s social strata.

“If you are a commoner, don’t expect that you’ll meet and be friends with a showbiz personality. Unless you’re a personal assistant!” she accentuated.

The class burst into laughter. This idea seems to be common yet still funny if pointed out that way. Her small built makes me think that she is also a college student acting like a professor but the way she dress effectively opposes the thought. She was always wearing a classy dress that makes her appear to be mature and sophisticated.

After a few more laughs, to my surprise (or I guess to everyone’s surprise), out of a hundred of students, a hand was raised by someone in front of me interrupting Mrs. Briones lecture. I could only see the hair of the girl who has dared to ask a question. Sometimes, I admire people who have the courage to speak for themselves, unafraid of what shall happen next.

“Yes? Questions?” Mrs. Briones asked with outmost concern. Now the class’ attention is all focused on the girl. The face of Mrs. Briones brims with delight. Maybe she wants her class to interact with her more.

“Why is it that we are bombarded with these movies, series, even stories opposing the social class theory you just discussed?” the girl firmly evoked. “These stories depict one who has a higher social class falling in love with someone of surely a lower social class. Why are we being fed by that? And why do we fall for those stories?”

The class grew quiet for a while. The delight on the face of Mrs. Briones was kept frozen until she closed her eyes and said “Young girl, these stories you refer is what I supposed as fictions, right? These stories defy society and defiance itself is bravery and it is giving the readers, the audience something to dream of. In short, these arts you refer to is...foolish.”

Some students on our class broke out a chuckle, but a lot remained quiet. They pondered and slowly digested the words that Mrs. Briones had just said. Silence had remained until she announced that it is already dismissal time. The students who were lost to their thoughts were suddenly brought back to the real world and urgently left the auditorium. I waited them first to exit while I was thinking “Is it really that shallow? Why do we fall in love with such stories?” In hind sight, she did not answer the question at all. Teachers have a knack of doing that, I thought. Seeing the seats at the auditorium almost empty, I realized that I should go now. Even Mrs. Briones has already gone.

***

Cool wind breezed through my clothing, giving me this weird sensation of cold sweat that I never felt before. I checked the time on my cell phone. It was eight minutes ‘til six. I glanced up on the sky which is painted with soft purple as it turns from noon to dusk. What’s enchanting is that a few stars was already twinkling its beauty like they have conspired to make a girl feel very special on her birthday. I remembered what my father used to say- that if you like something to happen so badly, the Universe shall conspire for it to happen.