The Unblocked Mile

Chapter 1: The Crossroads of the Favorite The Practice and the Pace: March 2004 The graduation practice in Ibaan had been a grueling introduction to the summer of 2004. The school quadrangle was a literal oven, the concrete radiating a dry, dusty heat that seemed to seep through the soles of Aera’s shoes. Because her surname started with 'A', Aera was always the first in line—the pace-setter for the entire graduating class. During rehearsals, the teachers’ voices would crackle through a distorted megaphone, their commands echoing against the school walls: "Aera, bagalan mo! Masyadong mabilis ang martsa! Hindi ka naglalakad sa palengke!" But Aera wasn't just walking; she was vibrating with the energy of a girl who knew she was standing at the edge of a cliff, ready to fly. She had spent years being the "bridge" child, the one who was "just right" in the middle of a staircase of four siblings. Her Kuya, the eldest, was only a year older than her Ate, and her younger sister was only a year behind Aera. They were a tight-knit pack, a constant blur of school uniforms and shared textbooks, but today, as the leader of the line, Aera felt like she was finally stepping out of the family shadow. When the actual graduation day arrived, the heat was a physical weight. It smelled of heavy starch from the white Barongs, the intoxicating sweetness of sampaguita garlands, and the nervous sweat of teenagers. As the first notes of Aida’s Triumphal March played through the aging speakers, Aera took her first official step. She felt the eyes of the entire town of Ibaan on her. Being the first one out meant she was the face of the class, a heavy crown for a girl everyone still called "Nene" because of her small, 5-flat frame and baby face. The Rotating Screen and the Benetton Legacy Her family sat in the reserved section, a quiet island of quality in a sea of plastic fans and umbrellas. Her Ate, the Mass Communication student, was already at work. She held a sleek, silver Digital Camcorder—a miracle of technology sent by Papino from Italy. This wasn't just any camera. It featured a tiny LCD screen that could flip out and rotate 270 degrees, allowing her Ate to record the march while still keeping an eye on the crowd. The screen glowed with a digital reflection of the ceremony, and the motor of the lens made a faint, high-tech whirring sound as it zoomed in on Aera’s face. These were the moving, breathing memories Papino wanted to see. He had sent the best because he wanted to see his "pangatlo" (third child) in high definition, even from thousands of miles away in Europe. Perched on Momina’s lap was her most prized possession: an original Benetton doctor’s bag. It was a deep, rich dark mocha choco shade, the leather so smooth it looked like a block of expensive cocoa. It was "cute" and compact, yet surprisingly spacious enough to hold the rotating-screen camera when it wasn't in use, along with extra memory sticks and batteries. Whenever Momina opened the brass clasp, a specific aroma would escape—the crisp, sophisticated scent of Davidoff Cool Water. It was the perfume Papino sent regularly, a scent that smelled like cold ocean waves and expensive soap. Inside the bag, tucked next to the camera, were fresh travel-packs of tissues. "Punasan mo ang pawis mo, Aera," Momina whispered as Aera stepped off the stage with her medals clinking. "Huwag mong hahayaan na maging haggard ka sa video ng Papino mo." The Secret Gift: A Spark of Romance As the ceremony ended and the crowd began to disperse, her Kuya—the eldest, the Nursing student—tapped Aera on the shoulder. He looked around to make sure Momina was busy talking to the teachers before handing Aera a small, neatly wrapped box. "From my classmate," Kuya whispered, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Sabi niya, 'Congrats daw sa kapatid mo.' Crush ka yata, Aera. Kanina pa nag-aabang kung kailan ka bababa ng stage. Classmate ko 'yun sa college, huwag mong ipagsasabi kay Mama, kundi lagot ako." Aera felt a rush of heat that had nothing to do with the Batangas sun. She looked toward a group of older boys near the gate; one of them, a tall student with a kind smile, quickly looked away when she made eye contact. She tucked the gift deep into her Hawk bag, right next to her Pilot pens. In a house where she was the "middle bridge," being noticed by an older boy—a friend of her Kuya—felt like her first real step into the adult world. The Tools of the Trade Aera’s life was simple, but her belongings whispered of quality. She didn't like to brag, but she was meticulous. Her high school Hawk bag was her companion, sturdy and reliable. Inside, she never used generic pads; she only wrote in Sterling notebooks because the paper was thick and smooth. She loved the way her Pilot ballpen—specifically the BP-S or the G-Tech 0.3—glided across the Sterling paper without a single scratch. It was a quiet luxury, a sign that she was prepared for the big world of Computer Science that lay ahead. The Enrollment: June 2004 The celebration of March faded into the stifling reality of June. The dawn of enrollment day at LPU-Batangas arrived at 4:30 AM with the crowing of roosters and the scent of roasting barako coffee. Aera stood in her room, lit only by the soft, blue standby glow of her "Monster PC". The beige tower was a monument to Papino’s belief in her. While her Kuya struggled with technology, Aera had mastered Windows XP, her walls covered in Jerry Yan and F4 cutouts. "Aera! Bilisan mo, baka mahaba na ang pila sa terminal!" Momina’s voice called from the kitchen. The journey to Batangas City was an oven. The jeepney roof radiated heat, and the air was thick with road dust. When they reached the LPU Main Gate, Aera froze. The sight of the Nursing students in their crisp white uniforms made her doubt herself. "Nay... parang hindi ko 'bet' ito. Baka dapat Nursing na lang ako gaya ni Kuya." Momina looked her in the eye. "One burnout in the family is enough, Aera. You have the brain for this. Papino didn't send that computer and that rotating camera just for you to play games. You are going to build the future." The Custom Fit and the TBA Mystery At the security podium, she surrendered her high school ID for a "Visitor" lanyard. They trekked to the Uniform Department, where the tailor wrapped a measuring tape around Aera’s frame. Momina insisted on custom-tailoring. "I want it to fit her perfectly," Momina told the tailor. "Hindi 'yung parang sako." Knowing her uniform was being made specifically for her small frame made the dream feel permanent. When the registrar finally handed back the form, it read: BSCS 1A. "1A," she whispered. But the instructor column was a sea of "TBA." To Be Announced. Aera felt a spike of anxiety—who were these mystery teachers? The NBS Ritual and the Homecoming Their final stop was National Book Store. While Momina shopped for the house, Aera stood at the stationery aisle like it was an altar. She chose her college Sterling notebooks and a fresh set of Pilot G-Techs. She then found her ultimate treasure: the chords for "Sometimes" by Britney Spears. By the time they reached Ibaan, it was dark. Lolo was waiting on the porch. "O, ang paboritong apo ko, Lycean na?" "Opo, Lo! BSCS 1A!" Inside, the house erupted over a bucket of Jollibee. They sat on the floor, the fan at full speed. Later, Aera retreated to her room. She opened the secret gift from her Kuya’s friend—a small, delicate keychain. She smiled, then turned on the Monster PC. Under the yellow glow of her lamp, she sang "Sometimes" softly, tracing the chords in her new book. She opened MS Paint to design her notebook covers—a digital collage of Jerry Yan and Britney Spears. She was tired and sunburnt, but as she looked at her registration form, she knew she was no longer just "Nene." She was a programmer in the making.