When He Borrowed My Pen

03

I was two hours early for school. Not because of dedication, but because the council needed my signature on a last-minute form, and I knew I wouldn't have five quiet minutes during lunch.

My morning started, as usual, in the empty Student Council office, wading through emails. But as the clock ticked closer to class time, a different kind of anxiety began to bubble up. It wasn't the stress of a deadline; it was the anticipation of an answer.

Did he get my note? Will he show up?

The suspense was almost unbearable, a welcome distraction from the spreadsheet of budget proposals.

By the time the bell rang for our first class—Business Finance—I was already mentally exhausted. I grabbed my textbooks and raced across the campus to the second floor, my mind still half-stuck on that note I had left with the barista.

Our professor, Mr. Alonzo, was a terror with a penchant for spontaneous oral recitations. I needed to focus. This was my sanctuary—the one place where I was just Leigh, the ABM student, and not the exhausted Pres.

"Ms. Vergara," Mr. Alonzo's voice boomed, startling me. "Since you are our most organized student, perhaps you can start us off. In the context of capital budgeting, what is the primary limitation of using the Payback Period method?"

I stood up, the heat rising in my cheeks. "Sir, the primary limitation is that it ignores the time value of money and it disregards the cash flows that occur after the payback period." I spoke clearly, my voice professional and steady, reciting the lesson flawlessly. My focus was absolute, blocking out the pressure and the fear of failure.

“Great answer. Keep it up, Ms. Vergara,” the teacher praised me, and I felt a mix of pride and fear. I had once been at the top of the class, but lately, my grades were slipping—skipping classes, drowning in endless meetings, barely keeping up.

Every free moment I had, I pushed myself to catch up, trying to prove that I could still do this, that I hadn’t completely lost myself.

And there are those thoughts inside my head that always creep in.

"Magaling ba talaga ako?"

"Was everything I did enough? Enough to make my parents proud?"

"Or enough to satisfy myself?"

Tangina.

I spent the next forty-five minutes completely immersed in discounted cash flow and net present value. It felt good, proving to myself that I could still be a student. The council work was a marathon, but the classroom was a focused sprint, and I excelled at sprints.

When the bell finally signaled the end of the period, I was already checking my phone. A torrent of messages from Giselle, my vice president, immediately flooded the screen—a new fire to put out.

"Pres, may problema po sa venue!"

"Pres, si Sir Galvez naghahanap sa'yo."

"Pres, urgent!"

I sighed, clutching my phone and my Business Finance notebook, already walking fast toward the staircase. My head was down, my focus tight. I was back in "Pres" mode, navigating the crowded hallway like a pro—avoiding students, nodding to a classmate, calculating the fastest route to the council office on the first floor.

I was so consumed by the glowing screen in my hand that I only noticed the shoes first: a pair of clean, slightly scuffed leather sneakers, planted right near the second-floor railing.

I barely glanced up, murmuring an automatic, "Excuse me po."

But the person didn't move.

When I finally raised my head, my breath hitched.

It was him. That matcha giver chinito na moreno guy!!

He was leaning casually against the railing of the second floor—a floor he had no business being on, since his classes, I dimly recalled, were all on the first. He wasn't looking at me. He was pretending to study the ceiling, his headphones resting around his neck, the slightest curve to his lips.

He was clearly waiting.

I froze, the noise of the hallway melting away. He wasn't the shy, awkward boy from the café; here, in the bright school light, he was calm and confident, completely aware that I had noticed him.

He finally turned his head, his eyes meeting mine. The silence stretched between us, thick with anticipation.

"Pres," he said, his voice soft, cutting through the chaos of the passing students. He didn't use the title. "I got your note."

For a second, I didn’t even breathe. That pen had been missing for two days, but it felt like he was handing me something heavier than ink and plastic. The white gel pen I loved.

"Tapos nako mag notes," he said, his smile widening. "Now, can we finally talk about yours?"

The urgent buzzing in my hand of Giselle’s latest text went unanswered. For the first time all day, I completely ignored the demands of the President and just stood there, staring at the boy who was now offering me not just my pen, but a distraction I desperately wanted.

And for the first time, I realized that maybe this was more than just curiosity.

While I was still stuck staring at him, everything around me blurred. Parang naging totoo yung nasa movies—yung tipong tumitigil ang mundo mo nang hindi mo sinasadya.

"Pres! Pres, huy!"

A voice echoed somewhere far away, distorted, parang underwater.

"Leigh!"

I snapped back to reality when someone shook my shoulder. It was Giselle—wide-eyed, half-panicked, half-annoyed.

"s**t, sorry," I muttered, clearing my throat and taking a shaky step back. “Oo nga pala. Tara na.”

She gave Evan one last quick glance. One that was WAY too knowing, before pulling me with her toward the staircase.

The moment we entered the council office, the chaos hit like a wave.

Papers scattered everywhere, two committee heads arguing in the corner, and a stack of props threatening to fall over. Giselle immediately closed the door behind us and faced me with her arms crossed.

“Okay,” she said, eyes narrowed. “Ano yun?”

“Ano alin?” I asked too quickly, placing my notebook on the table as if that could distract her.

“Leigh, wag mo kong gawing tanga. Sino yung chinito? And bakit siya nakatayo sa second floor na parang nasa w*****d plot twist kayo?” she demanded, eyebrows almost kissing her hairline. “At bakit ang tagal mo bago ka nakinig sakin? Ha?”

I groaned and sank into my chair, rubbing my temples. “G, please, wala yun.”

“Tangina,” she whispered, sliding into the seat across from me with dramatic flair. “That was NOT ‘wala.’ Leigh, literally na-hypnotize ka. Nag-slowmo yung paligid. May background music pa nga eh.”

I threw a pen cap at her. “Tumigil ka.”

She caught it. “Sino nga siya?”

I hesitated for half a second—fatal mistake.

“AHA! May something nga!” she gasped, leaning forward. “Is he the pen guy? Yung matcha guy? Yung nagbigay ng drink sayo nung isang araw? Siya ba yun?!”

I buried my face in my hands. “Giselle please, may venue problem tayo—”

“Pres,” she said, lowering her voice like a detective interrogator. “Sumagot ka muna.”

I glared at her. She smirked. We stared at each other in silence until I finally muttered,

“...Oo na oo na. Siya nga.”

Giselle exploded into a silent scream, stomping her feet like a gremlin. “PUTANG—OMG LEIGH!”

“Can we NOT announce that to the whole school?” I hissed, grabbing her arm.

She clapped a hand over her mouth but her eyes were practically sparkling.

“Well? Ano sinabi niya? Ano ginawa niya? Bakit parang nagkaka-glow ka bigla?”

“Wala. Ang kulit mo talaga, G.”

“Well?”

“He just returned my pen.”

“And?”

“He… said he got my note.”

“And??”

“He… wants to talk later.”

Giselle looked like she was about to implode.

“Girl,” she whispered, gripping my shoulders. “This is the start. I’m telling you. THIS. IS. THE. START.”

I shoved her lightly. “Gaga, hindi. May emergency meeting tayo diba? Focus muna.”

She rolled her eyes but grabbed her laptop anyway, muttering under her breath,

“Yeah yeah, meeting daw, kinikilig ka halata sa mukha mo.”

I pretended not to hear her…but the tiny, unavoidable smile tugging at my lips betrayed me completely.

I sat in my table and the door opened it was Nicole and Joel. Mukhang mga pagod dahil namili sila ng mga kailangan na particulars.

I saw Giselle's excited face. May binabalak to.

"Kamusta kayo? Pahinga muna" I told them.

"Ito kinakaya pa, pres. And I kept all the receipts. Don't worry" I nodded.

"Nicole! Halika ka dito" Giselle called her.

Ayun na nga mag binubulong. Alam ko kung ano yun eh mukhang sobrang shock nung mukha nung isa.

"OH MY G—PRES?! NAGPAKILALA NA SIYA?! " Nicole screamed.

"Sino ba yan—AY GAGI YUN BA YUNG" Joel added.

"OO SHET NAKAKILIG NAMAN TALAGA. FANTASY! " Nicole said.

"Pwede bang hina-an ang boses dahil baka may makarinig sayo sa labas." I said looking stern para hindi halata na affected ako.

"Ehhhh kasi, Pres!" Nicole covered her mouth, but her eyes were sparkling. "Hindi lang nagpakilala, NAGSABI NG GUSTONG MAKI-PAG-USAP 'LATER'!"

Joel, who had slumped into a chair, suddenly sat bolt upright, mimicking a dramatic fainting. "Wait, wait, wait. Yung chinito na sinasabi ni Pres na randomly nagbibigay sa kaya ng matcha for months? The one and only legendary 'Pen Guy'?"

Giselle high-fived Nicole across the table. "YES! And take note nag-slow mo ang mundo ni Pres, literal!”

I threw a folder at Giselle. "Giselle, iniover mo naman pag explain! Wala nang slow mong nangyari okay. At huwag niyo siyang tawaging 'Pen Guy'!"

I lied. Nag slow-mo talaga literal.

Nicole tilted her head, a smirk spreading across her face. "Bakit, Pres? Ano na tawag namin? Future Boyfriend?"

"Ang tawag natin ay Mr. Ramirez, at siya ay estudyante na may project sa atin," I said, my voice firm despite the blush creeping up my neck. "Now, Joel, Nicole, ano ba yung mga particulars na binili niyo? Kailangan ko na i-finalize ang budget.”

Joel rolled his eyes but grudgingly opened his bag. "Fine, fine. Ibang level na pala ang confidentiality ngayon. Pero Pres, seryoso. Baka mamaya nag-aabang pa siya dun. 'Later' is 'Now' sa council time, alam mo yan."

Giselle leaned over and whispered loudly to Nicole "Dapat i-schedule natin ang meeting niya. First priority. Venue: Café. Time: ASAP."

"Giselle!" I snapped, catching the whisper. "If you don't start inputting those receipts, ikaw mag-aayos ng props sa stage. Mag-isa!”

Giselle snapped to attention. "Yes, Pres! Inputting receipts na po! Pero after neto, may debriefing tayo. Details, Pres. Kailangan namin ng detalye."

Joel chuckled. "Best of luck, Pres. Wala kang takas diyan."

I pretended not to hear any of them, focusing instead on the chaos of papers on my desk, but the tiny, unavoidable smile tugging at my lips betrayed me completely. I knew I couldn't escape the debriefing or the feeling that something monumental had finally, finally, started.

Nakalipas din yung oras at umuwi agad ako sa apartment. Nakakapagod tong araw na ’to pero para sa pangarap, laban lang. Pero Diyos ko… feeling ko matatanggal na yung paa ko kakatakbo sa hallway kanina. Parang isang maling hakbang ko pa, magro-roll ako pababa ng stairs.

Pagdating ko sa pinto, kinuha ko ID ko at sinlide yung key para mabuksan. Pagkapasok na pagkapasok ko, the exhaustion hit me all at once. Gusto ko talagang mahiga agad sa kama na para bang hihilahin ako ng gravity mismo papunta doon.

Pero may rule ako: “Bawal humiga sa bed hangga’t hindi pa nakakaligo.”

So kahit ang tempting, hindi ako bumigay.

Inilapag ko muna yung gamit ko sa maliit kong table—ID, ballpen, notebook, pati tubig ko na halos wala nang laman. I arranged everything the way I always do, kasi mas nakakagaan ng katawan pag maayos yung paligid ko. Tinupi ko pa yung blazer ko kahit gusto ko na siyang ihagis kung saan.

I placed my shoes neatly sa ilalim ng table, then stretched my legs na parang tatanda na ako ng limang taon.

Pagtingin ko sa salamin, halatang halata yung pagod—pero may konting ngiti akong hindi matanggal. Siguro epekto ng buong araw kasama yung council.

With a quiet sigh, I grabbed my towel and headed to the bathroom. A hot shower sounded like heaven.

After my shower, I felt the heat of the water slowly fade from my skin, replaced by the familiar weight of exhaustion settling over me. I tied my hair into a loose bun, slipped on an oversized shirt, then walked to my study desk.

I reached for my planner, ready to check tomorrow’s tasks—pero hindi pa man ako nakakaupo nang ding.

My phone buzzed.

I picked it up absentmindedly, expecting another message from Giselle… or some council emergency.

But instead

Instagram Notification:

@sofercole added you.

Napatingin ako nang mabuti.

…What?

Si Evan?

I blinked twice, then thrice, almost expecting my tired eyes to be messing with me.

Private pa naman account ko. I don’t accept requests from random students unless they’re from the council.

So how the hell…

“Pano niya naman nalaman IG ko?” I whispered to myself. I narrowed my eyes.

“May nagsabi kaya? Si Nicole? Si Joel? Si Giselle? Or… stalker vibes?”

I clicked his profile.

@sofercole

12 posts

2,081 followers

clean feed, puro basketball at puro mukha niya

last post was him in a white shirt, messy hair, stupidly charming smile

Okay fine, cute.

I stared at the “Confirm” button.

My finger hovered over it.

Before I could even decide, another notification popped up at the top of the screen.

Message request from: @sofercole

My heart jumped.

I pressed it.

His chat appeared, the typing bar blinking like it was daring me to open it.

I inhaled sharply and tapped the message.

@sofercole sent you a photo.

Napakunot noo ako pag-open ko ng chat. Bakit…

sofercole: ay sorry, nakawala Dora ko. btw… hola!

Bwisit. Ang cringe pero nakakatawa. Sino ba namang biglang magpapadala ng Dora sa ganitong oras?

I typed slowly:

leigh_sv: How did you even find my IG? Naka private to ah.

He replied in less than ten seconds.

sofercole: I have my ways.

sofercole: tsaka libre lang naman mag tanong hehe

I froze.

I groaned into my hands. Sino ba sa kanila nag sabi sa kanya? I mean it's not like illegal pero still hindi man lang ako na-inform?!

leigh_sv: nako nako ikaw talaga ha, Ramirez.

His reply came instantly.

sofercole: Pres naman nagpapakabait kaya ako.

I bit my lip, trying not to smile too obviously.

I typed:

leigh_sv: So… bakit mo ko in-add?

For the first time, he took a while. Like he was carefully choosing his words.

Finally, a message popped in.

sofercole: Para hindi na ako maghanap ng excuse bukas para kausapin ka ulit.

My stomach flipped.

Before I could respond, another message arrived.

sofercole: Goodnight, Pres.

sofercole: And please…wag mo na akong i-ignore pag nagkasalubong tayo sa hallway hehe.

I stared at his message, my pulse unsteady.

I hadn’t even replied yet, but the corners of my lips had already betrayed me—rising, soft, uncontrollable.

I finally typed:

leigh_sv: Goodnight, Evan.

Then I locked my phone, pressed it to my chest, and let myself melt into my chair just a little.

Just a little. Because for the first time in a long time….

I looked forward to tomorrow.

Pagka-dry ng hair ko, humiga na ako sa kama. I opened my planner on my phone to check my to-do list for tomorrow's meetings, paperwork, early class, plus yung follow-up report kay Sir Galvez. Just thinking about it made my head throb.

Pagkahiga ko, I blurted out a satisfied, almost dramatic sound.

“Ahhh… finally, makakatulog na rin.”

At least, that’s what I thought.

Because the moment I tried to close my eyes, the only thing flashing in my mind was… Evan.

The messages.

The way he said my name kanina.

The weirdly specific things he knew about me.

I turned to my side, squishing my face into my pillow.

What does he even know about me?

Bakit parang ang dami niyang alam?

Should I be worried? Or… kinikilig lang ba talaga ako and my brain is being dramatic?

I groaned quietly and hugged my childhood plushie—si Cloudy, na lagi kong tinutulugan since Grade 5 pa. I pulled my blanket higher hanggang leeg ko because the aircon was freezing. Ganito pala feeling ng maging hotdog sa ref. Sana nga naging hotdog nalang ako sa ref, mas masaya buhay ko.

I stared at the ceiling, the soft hum of the AC filling the room.

Ang tahimik.

Ang lamig.

And yet… ang gulo ng utak ko.

My phone was beside me, screen down, but it felt like it was glowing through the sheets, whispering

“Check me. Baka nag-message siya.”

I rolled over, slapped a pillow on top of my face, and whined into it.

“Leigh, stop. Hindi ka naman elementary, ano ba,” bulong ko sa sarili ko.

Pero sa totoo lang…

I was.

At least tonight.

I peeked at my phone again.

Should I look forward to tomorrow?

Should I sleep?

Should I pretend na hindi ako affected sa chinito na morenong yun?

Impossible.

Because even wrapped like a burrito under my blanket, with Cloudy tucked under my chin, ang lakas talaga ng kabog ng puso ko.

Pero kahit anong pilit kong matulog, hindi din mawala sa isip ko ang amoy ng probinsya namin—yung halong bagong saing, kahoy, at hangin na may dalang lamig ng bundok.

That familiar warmth always hits me at night, like a silent ache.

I closed my eyes tighter.

Homesickness.

Ito talaga yung pinakamalala. Hindi siya nawawala. Hindi siya napapagod. Parang lagi siyang nakaupo sa dibdib ko, reminding me of everything I miss.

I miss my mama.

I miss her cooking—lalo na yung adobo niya tuwing pagod ako sa school dati. I miss hearing her call my name in that soft, motherly tone na wala nang katulad.

I can’t wait for this semester to end. Gusto ko nang makauwi, kahit sandali lang. Pero sa sobrang busy ko sa school and council… hindi na talaga ako nakakauwi.

Minsan nga, isang buong buwan akong hindi nakakatapak ng bahay.

At mas masakit pa…

hindi ko na rin nabibisita si Papa sa puntod niya.

I swallowed the lump in my throat.

Ayoko na itong iniisip, pero the thoughts always found a way back.

Every time I see a father and daughter sa mall…or habang na sa park…lalo na kapag nagbubuhat yung tatay sa anak niya…

I feel that sting. Yung tipong bigla nalang namumuo yung luha mo sa mata mo kahit wala ka namang ginagawa.

Sometimes I have to look away. Minsan tinitignan ko cellphone ko para kunwari nag-aayos lang.

But deep inside, I miss him.

So much.

I hugged Cloudy tighter, burying half my face into its worn-out fur. It smelled like softener and memories I’m scared to revisit. Bigay din ni papa si Cloudy kaya dala-dala ko kahit dito sa Manila.

“Pa…” I whispered into the dark, not even sure what I wanted to say.

“Sorry… matagal na akong hindi nakapunta.”

My throat tightened again, but I forced a shaky breath.

Tomorrow, I’ll be Pres again.

Tomorrow, I’ll smile.

Tomorrow, I’ll act like everything’s fine.

But tonight…Tonight I just let myself miss them.

Gusto ko sanang tawagan si Mama. I wanted to hear her voice, kahit isang “O, kumain ka na ba?” lang. Pero anong oras na rin… siguradong tulog na siya.

Ayoko siyang gulatin.

Ayoko siyang mag-alala.

So I just placed my phone back on my bedside table, my fingers lingering on the screen like I was still trying to convince myself. There it was our family portrait nung completo pa kami. It was sitting beside my lamp.

“Matulog na lang, Leigh,” I whispered to no one.

A command.

A plea.

I pulled the blanket up to my chin, hugging Cloudy with both arms as if the plushie could hold me back. The room felt too quiet—parang bawat echo ng paghinga ko malungkot pakinggan.

And before I could stop it…my vision blurred.

My chest tightened.

My lips trembled.

Then the tears came—slow at first, then unstoppable. At hindi ko na pinigilan.

I just let my emotions out, kesa naman i-bottle up ko na naman. Masakit… sobra. Pero alam ko naman sa sarili ko na I’ll feel the relief after I cry. Kahit papano.

My chest tightened, my breathing uneven, parang may nakapatong sa dibdib ko.

But I kept crying anyway, because sometimes the only way to breathe again is to break a little first.

I turned to my side, curled into myself, letting the heaviness finally spill out after weeks of pretending I was fine.

All the stress…

all the homesickness…

all the buried grief…

everything I refused to feel when I was “Pres.”

Doon na lang siya lumabas lahat—sa dilim ng kwarto ko, sa malamig na aircon, sa katahimikan na wala namang humahabol.

I cried softly, quietly,

until my breathing slowed…

until my eyelids grew too heavy…

until exhaustion finally dragged me under.

And that’s how I fell asleep—

not because I was tired from school,

but because my heart had no choice but to be strong.

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