Ride with the Waves

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

I’m at one of the houses of the rich here in our area. Today, we’re cleaning it because it hasn’t been used in ages. But can you even call this a “house”? Mansion—that’s the proper word.

The owner will be coming home with some relatives, so it only makes sense to make this place spotless and comfortable for them.

Hailey and Carl came with me. They have money, but they also want to work, which I admire.

Carl was busy fixing the garden, pulling out weeds, and I was helping him water the plants. Hailey, of course, was sweeping here and there, moving from one corner to the next. Inside, there were older workers, much older than us, cleaning the rooms.

“And you’re here too?” A sassy voice called. Hena, the daughter of Manang Lourdes, was helping her mom and apparently didn’t appreciate seeing me. I’ve known her from school, so I just gave her a small nod.

“Are you blind? You can see her right there, yet you still ask,” Hailey snapped, clearly teasing.

Hena looked pissed. “Mind your own business, okay?!”

“Hey, chicken! Don’t talk to me like that, or I’ll poke your throat!” Hailey shot back, getting more heated.

I just sighed and nudged Hailey to calm down. These two never seem to get along, and honestly, I don’t even know why Hena dislikes her—or me, for that matter. Hailey says it’s because of Hena’s ex, and apparently, Hena has a thing for me. I didn’t ask for details. I don’t plan on paying attention to some guy if he ever shows interest.

Hena stormed off, clearly still mad. We didn’t bother her. I didn’t do anything to apologize for. Let her deal with it.

“That girl’s crazy,” Hailey muttered.

“Oh, here we go again,” Carl said, walking over. He had clearly seen Hailey’s outburst.

“Well, that chicken-faced girl… she’s really ugly,” Hailey said, crossing her arms.

I sighed at her words. I’ve known Hailey for a long time, but sometimes I’m still shocked at the things she says. Can’t blame her though. The group Hena is part of is kind of mean, so she and Olivia (our friend who rarely speaks up) have their reasons to snap back sometimes.

Carl just patted Hailey on the head. “Just let it go. Don’t stoop to her level, or you’ll end up worse.” His smile was calm, so effortlessly charming. Why does he have to be this handsome? I thought.

Hailey rolled her eyes but let it slide. Carl stayed beside her, and jokingly said “Don’t roll your eyes on me, I will pluck them.”

I just laughed and continued with my tasks.

By the time night fell, we were finally fed and paid for our work. Then it was time to head home and rest.

But as we were leaving the mansion, a car pulled up—and a guy got out.

Tall. Dark. Handsome. Fit. Definitely not from the province. His style, his movements, even the way he dressed screamed rich kid. Who is he, and what’s he doing here? But he looks familiar though. Hmm when did I see this person?

“Oh! You’re here, sir? Where’s your dad? Isn’t he coming with you?” asked the nanny watching over the mansion.

“He’s not coming yet. Maybe next week. Busy with work, endless meetings,” the guy replied.

The depth of his voice… my goodness, what am I even thinking?

“Oh, I see. Come inside. Have you eaten?”

“Yes.” Very short answer. Of course, does he need to answer like an essay?

“Hey, girl! Stop staring! Just because you see a handsome guy, you’re gonna loiter there? Hahaha!” Hailey teased.

“What are you talking about? He’s not even that handsome,” I said.

“Oh really? That’s what you say…” she teased again, rolling her eyes.

I glanced back at him—and he was staring right at me. Smirking. Ugh, what’s his problem? I ignored him and walked on.

Such a pain.

Days flew by. School discussions, assignments, projects, performances—they all kept coming, but we didn’t complain. Then came exams and graduation practice. Stress hit from every side.

The pressure was real. After graduation, the college entrance exam results would be released via email. I just hoped I’d pass… so I could finally study in Manila.

Exams came and went. We focused on our tests, letting ourselves get overwhelmed by stress—but we knew it would all end soon.

Two days later, all our exams were done. And me? I was off to work since there wasn’t much else to do, aside from graduation practice.

Today, I’m at the court, teaching dance. A college friend asked me for their performance. Luckily, I had finished this choreography before exams, so I was thankful they waited.

As we started, I noticed people glancing toward the side—and there he is. That arrogant guy from the mansion, camera in hand, taking pictures of everything.

Our eyes met. He raised an eyebrow, and that annoying smirk was back. I rolled my eyes. Who is he? We didn’t even know each other, yet he was so irritating.

“Let’s start. Please focus so you can memorize the steps quickly,” I instructed.

They seemed to settle down and pay attention. And that guy? I didn’t care.

I focused on teaching the steps until everyone had mastered them. Some were slow learners, but the effort was worth it when they finally got it. It felt so satisfying.

“So… what do you think? Can you handle the choreography?” I asked.

“Yes!!” they shouted together.

“Okay, take a 30-minute break. After that, we’ll clean up and synchronize.”

“Yes, ma’am!” they said, laughing at how I sounded official.

I walked to my things to grab a bottle and rest, but there he is again, Mr. Arrogant. Fine, I thought, I’ll just ignore him.

“You’re really good at dancing,” he said.

I didn’t reply and grabbed my tumbler. After a sip, I sat down. There was space between us, thankfully.

“Mhm… grumpy,” he said.

“What’s your problem?” I asked.

“I’m just saying, you’re good at dancing. Didn’t even say thank you?”

“Do I have to?” I replied.

“No… I just meant appreciation, I guess? But you don’t seem like that kind of person,” he teased.

“You’re arrogant. And just so you know, I am appreciative,” I shot back.

He just laughed.

“My type,” he whispered—but I didn’t hear it clearly.

“What?!” I asked, annoyed.

“I said… you’re cute, but not my type,” he said, and I felt my blood boil. Who does he think he is?

“Does it matter if I’m not your type? I don’t like you either!” I snapped and walked away to practice alone.

I just heard him laugh, enjoying my annoyed face.