Chapter 1
849 Words
Maxine Dela Cruz
Minsan iniisip ko, bakit ba ako nagsasalita?
Bakit ko pa sinasabi 'yung mga bagay na alam ko namang hindi ikatutuwa ng iba?
Pero ang hirap kasi—ang hirap manahimik kapag ang dami mong gustong sabihin.
Kaya heto ako ngayon, nakahiga sa kama, staring at the ceiling like it's about to offer me answers. Sa background, naririnig ko pa rin 'yung boses ko sa t****k clip na pinost ni Yanna.
"Ang problema sa mga varsity boys? Entitled. They think the world owes them something just because they can dribble a ball and shoot a three. Grow up."
God. Bakit ko ba ‘to sinabi? At bakit ang linaw ng audio?
"Max," tawag ni Kai mula sa kabilang kama. She's in her oversized Ateneo hoodie, hair up in a bun, habang naka-face mask at nagbabasa ng comm theory article. "You’re trending again."
I groaned, covering my face with a pillow. “No thanks to you guys.”
“Don’t blame us,” Yanna piped in through the speaker of her phone. She’s on video call, of course. “You’re the one who said it. We just shared it.”
“Out of context!” I defended. “It was part of a bigger discussion about athlete privilege—hindi lang naman si Liam ‘yung tinutukoy ko.”
But deep down, I knew the truth.
It was about him.
Liam freaking Ramirez.
DLSU Green Archers team captain. Poster boy ng UAAP. Heartthrob ng mga taong mahilig sa mayabang pero magaling. And yes, unfortunately, kasama rin ako doon. Minsan. Lalo na kapag naka-green jersey siya at pawis ‘yung leeg.
But whatever.
He probably didn’t even see it.
Right?
“Check Twitter,” sabi ni Kai, monotone pero may halong panunukso. “Siya na ‘yung top trending.”
“No.”
“Okay.”
“Teka, si Liam din ba—?”
“Yup.”
My stomach dropped. “What are people saying?”
Kai didn’t answer. Instead, she tossed her phone to my bed. It was open to a post with a screenshot of Liam’s i********: story.
It was just a black background.
With one line of white text.
“Cool story, Maxine.”
And a smirking emoji.
PUTANGINA.
“Yanna,” I said slowly. “Did I just start a war?”
She cackled from the screen. “Baka nga love story, girl.”
“Shut up,” I muttered, but my pulse was racing.
What did he mean by that?
“Cool story”? Was he mad? Laughing? Planning revenge?
Or worse—did he not care at all?
I stared at the post until the image blurred.
The last thing I needed was to be on the radar of someone like him. Liam Ramirez was the kind of boy mothers warned their daughters about—charismatic, lethal, charming as hell, and fully aware of it. He could break hearts with a wink and get away with it because he was good at playing both basketball and people.
And I—
I was the girl who called him out.
Live.
On air.
In front of thousands of viewers.
I sat up and grabbed my own phone, hesitating for a full minute before opening my DMs.
Nothing.
No message from Liam.
No threats.
No cocky comebacks.
And for some reason, that made it worse.
“Kai,” I whispered, voice lower now. “What if I crossed a line?”
“You didn’t,” she said immediately, eyes still on her reading. “He needed to hear it. They all did.”
“But—”
“Max,” she cut in, meeting my gaze this time. “You were honest. That’s more than I can say for most people.”
I sighed and leaned back, eyes on the ceiling again.
Outside our dorm window, I could hear the buzz of campus life winding down. DLSU vs. Ateneo week was approaching, and the tension was already building in the air. Sa school, lahat ng tao may kanya-kanyang side. School pride. School loyalty.
And me?
I just wanted to be heard.
Not worshipped.
Not adored.
Just heard.
But now, I wasn’t sure if I’d done the right thing.
Or if I’d just made myself a target.
My phone buzzed.
One notification.
Unknown number.
I stared at it for a second before opening the message.
Unknown: So… am I entitled or just good at basketball?
My heart stopped.
I didn’t need to guess.
Because only one person would text me like that.
Liam.
Ramirez.
I stared at the screen, my mind a chaotic mess of panic and thrill and something dangerously close to excitement.
My fingers hovered over the keyboard.
Then I typed:
Maxine: Both. But one of those things can be unlearned.
Seconds later, a reply.
Liam: Then maybe you should teach me.
Holy. s**t.
I dropped my phone like it burned me.
And maybe, in a way, it did.
Because that was the moment I realized
This wasn’t just about a viral clip anymore.
This was personal.
And it was just getting started.
- Writer
