EIGHT
Francis Yatco’s too-cool-for-you swagger used to intimidate Datu. Not only was he the starting forward of their school’s basketball team, he also belonged to the top ten students in their class. Girls swooned over him, guys endeavored to be him.
But what had really ticked Datu off was that Francis had a father who was present. No disrespect to his mother, who juggled her schedules magnificently to be there for him, but for a long time, Datu wished it was his father who showed up. Just once would have been enough.
He thought getting into schoolyard fights would work in his favor, but he was sorely mistaken. All he got was a slip for ten hours of community service and a front seat to his mother tearfully apologizing to the Yatcos. Never had he loathed himself so much until that day.
