The First Class Officer Hates Me: My ROTC Senior Enemy

Chapter 2: Breadwinner

I hate Saturdays.

Not because it is ROTC day. I chose ROTC. I wanted it because I dream of becoming a policewoman someday even I am BSED student.

I hate Saturdays because I see him every Saturday morning.

That Aris Gotladera. First Class Officer. Cold. Silent. Never smiling. Strict. My enemy!!

After he made me wash my face in front of the whole platoon and gave me thirty push-ups and thirty squat thrusts because of a little powder on my face and liptint, I decided I would hate him for the entire semester.

But Saturday is not the only hard day. Every day is hard for me.

I am Louella Dela Torre, sixteen years old, BSED English 1-A, CHED scholar. Middle child. Seven siblings. Seven children in one small house.

My father is very strict. He is a tricycle driver, a former construction worker. He has strong hands and stronger rules. In our house, if you are the middle child, you are not allowed to complain. You are expected to be the strongest.

"I only rely on you, Louella," he tells me every night. "You are the only one I can count on."

So I became the breadwinner at sixteen.

From Monday to Friday, I work as a*****e helper. Not on weekends. Monday to Friday only, from five in the morning to eleven in the morning, I work at my cousin's store in Bulan Public Market. I arrange onions, garlic, tomatoes, ginger, calamansi and get customer orders. My hands smell like garlic. I earn one hundred fifty pesos per day. I give one hundred to my mother for my younger siblings' school allowance, and fifty for myself for photocopies and projects.

Then I go to school. My class is from twelve thirty in the afternoon to seven in the evening. I am a BSED English student. I love English, but I am always tired. I have dark circles under my eyes. My uniform is always ironed, but my eyes are always sleepy.

To survive, I have many side hustles.

During my one-hour break time on campus, from eleven thirty to twelve thirty, I tutor. I tutor students who have difficulty in Methods of Teaching, even if they are older than me, even if they are third year or fourth year college students. They are Education students too, but they are not good at making lesson plans. I make lesson plans for them. I teach them. They pay me fifty pesos per hour. Sometimes one hundred if it is exam week.

"How do you do this, Louella? You are only first year," one older student asked me last Tuesday.

"Because I read in advance. Because I need the money," I answered honestly.

Aside from tutoring, on Sunday, I work as catering crew. This is my heaviest side hustle.

Last Sunday was a wedding in Iraya. I woke up at five in the morning. I wore my catering uniform — black pants, white long sleeves. My job was to carry heavy trays of food, refill soft drinks, wash plates, and clean the venue after. From six in the morning to eleven at night, I was standing. No sitting. My back hurt. My feet were swollen.

The manager shouted, "Louella, faster!"

The guests left chicken and pork untouched. I was hungry, but I could not eat until the event was over. At eleven at night, the manager gave me three hundred fifty pesos and a plastic bag of leftover food — chicken, lumpia, and rice.

I brought it home. My five younger siblings were waiting, even though it was almost midnight. They ate the chicken with their hands. My youngest said, "Thank you, Ate Louella, this is delicious!"

That is why I do catering. Even if my body hurts, I see them happy.

That is my life. Store helper Monday to Friday. Tutor during break time. Catering crew on Sunday.

And I am also a good friend lol. I have friends who really admire me — not just because of my beauty char , they say I am beautiful even without makeup — but because of my intelligence, my kindness, my hard work, and my determination. Ehemm clearing throat.

They are my barkada. We call each other Parekoy. It is our own language.

There are three of them.

Angelica, bisexual, my friend since elementary. She is intelligent and tech-savvy. She is now an IT student. She knows how to fix laptops, how to fix the school portal when it crashes, how to make our PowerPoints beautiful. She is the most intelligent in our group.

Wilma, slow but resourceful and kind. I met her in kinder. Kindergarten. We were already sharing crayons. She is slow in understanding lessons, but she is the most resourceful. She sells handmade earrings and bookmarks. She is now a BEED student.

Realyn, jolly, brave, frank, and funny. We met in third year high school. She is a Business Administration student now. She is the loudest. She laughs even when she is failing. She is frank — if she hates someone, she says it directly.

We have different courses — IT, BEED, Business Administration, and BSED English — but we are in one school. And because of me, our friendship was formed. I connected them. Different courses, different personalities, but we became one group.

We only have one subject together: PE. And our PE is every Saturday afternoon, one to three in the afternoon.

ROTC and CWTS are both in the morning. But CWTS are earlier than ROTC. CWTS start at three in the morning and end at six in the morning. ROTC starts at four in the morning and ends at eight in the morning because they clean roads, canals, seashore and even public places.

My friends are all CWTS. So every Saturday, they finish at six, then they wait for me until eight in the field, just to watch me suffer.

And they see how Aris makes my life harder.

Last Saturday afternoon, in PE, I was late. My legs were still shaking from ROTC unlimited exercise in the morning.

We were in the open field, doing warm-up. I was in my PE shirt, my hair still in a tight bun, no makeup because I learned my lesson. My white ROTC t-shirt from the morning was in my bag, dirty with sweat.

My friends saw me and ran to me.

Realyn was the first, frank and funny as always, shouting, "Hey! Look who is here! Incoming officer Dela Torre! The girl who washed her face in front of the whole ROTC because of powder and liptint Hahaha!"

Everyone in PE looked at me.

"Parekoy! You are so extra! You put powder on! You know it is ROTC, not a date!" Angelica laughed, but she was laughing with me, not at me. Her laugh was so genuine, so loud, that I laughed too even though I was still pissed off.

Wilma, slow but funny, added, "Parekoy, our instructor in CWTS said, you were the whitest in the field because your face was shining with powder and your lips are red as blood. That is why Gotladera told you to wash it!"

We all laughed. A genuine laugh. The type of laugh that only barkada can give. The teasing that makes you forget you are tired.

"It is not funny! I didn't see my face properly because it was too dark" I said, but I was laughing. "But thirty push-ups! Thirty! Do you know that? I thought I was going to die!"

"Only thirty? We thought it was three hundred! You are so dramatic, Parekoy!" Realyn said, and we laughed again, louder. We were in the middle of the PE field, sitting on the grass, laughing like crazy while other PE students were jogging.

Then Angelica stopped laughing. Her face became serious.

"Parekoy, but seriously, are you okay? We saw you this morning. He tortured you again. Unlimited exercise. You were so red, you were sweating so much, but he still made you jog," Angelica said, her voice worried.

Wilma also became serious. "Yes, Parekoy. At seven in the morning, we finished CWTS, we were waiting for you. We saw you, you were the only one he scolded. Other girls also had makeup, but you were the only one he called. Are you not tired? Have you eaten?"

Realyn, who is always jolly and funny, also became worried, but with teasing still.

"Parekoy, seriously, if you want, we will beat Gotladera later in PE. Three of us, only one of him. He is so cold! He never smiles! He thinks he is so handsome! But yeah he is handsome, Parekoy, sorry," Realyn said, and then we laughed again, but this time, it was a worried laugh.

I looked at them. My Parekoy. Different courses, different personalities, but the same worries for me.

"I am really pissed off at him, Parekoy," I said, my voice low but angry. "I wake up at two in the morning every Saturday for ROTC. I work as a*****e helper Monday to Friday. I tutor during break time. I do catering on Sunday until eleven at night. I am a middle child of seven with a strict father who only relies on me — and then this First Class Officer, who is cold, silent, never smiling, strict, will make me wash my face in front of everyone and give me unlimited exercise? I hate him. I really hate him." Acting crying dramatically but laughing.

Angelica held my hand and did acting too. "We know, Parekoy. We admire you. You are intelligent, kind, hardworking, and beautiful even without makeup. We see your hard work. We are just worried. You are doing too much. But make sure don't put too much make up next Saturday !? She laughs.

Wilma gave me her water bottle. "Parekoy, drink first. Your anger at Gotladera can wait. Drink."

Realyn shouted, still trying to make me laugh, "Parekoy, enough drama! Later in PE, when we play basketball, make Gotladera's face the ball! Shoot it hard!"

And we laughed again. A genuine, loud, barkada laughed. The teasing is funny, but behind it, they are seriously worried about me.

On the other side of the PE field, I saw Aris Gotladera. He was also in PE, afternoon, same subject, but different group. He was in PE uniform, standing straight, cold, silent, never smiling, and strict even in PE. He was looking at us, at our group that was laughing so loud.

And I looked at him, still pissed off, really pissed off, while my friends were laughing beside me.

I will never let him see me weak.