End of First Term (Part II)

Deadlines were aplenty in the homestretch of the first term.

The month of August had arrived, and the feeling of weariness permeated our bodies. The stress and demands of school work had taken its toll.

Michelle and Kyla, in particular, were experiencing a delicate balancing act. Not only would they attend to their studies but also train for the first official game of the season.

If I was on their shoes, the former would have suited best. But Michelle and Kyla were on the team for a reason: to not only play basketball but also excel in academics.

Tuesday afternoon, I accompanied them to the study room. Inside, the room was full of people; some were student-athletes, the others act as tutors and managers.

"The women's basketball team would play its first game Saturday," Michelle eagerly said as she showed me the calendar.

"So how would you carefully balance the final exams and basketball?" I inquired Michelle. "You realize how difficult it would be."

"Good question," she carefully pondered on this unfortunate predicament. "The basketball season used to commence in early July but now it starts in August, so winning games are not going to be easy this time of the year."

"But we do have Christine, remember?" Kyla gently reminded Michelle. "She is undoubtedly the brightest and most hardworking friend we've ever known, right?"

"Hey don't mention it," I answered back. "Anyway, we better support each other out in our studies. You'll be all fine as long as I have your back."

Days passed in the blink of an eye. The final week of the term was rapidly approaching.

Classes came and went. Professors announced final projects left and right.

Sleepless nights were no laughing matter. All of us must conveniently ignore the yawning, coughing and sneezing sensation just to make it through this term.

My back and hips were killing me. My head and hands were aching as well.

Yet the unbearable pain and exhaustion would be all worth it. As long as we all overcome these odds, everything would be fine.

Saturday afternoon, I was inside a huge arena in Manila surrounded by thousands of screaming fans. It was the opening ceremony of the annual inter-collegiate games, and the noise was palpable.

I came in to enthusiastically support Michelle who faithfully delivered the oath of sportsmanship. Unfortunately, her team was not scheduled to play until Sunday.

The following morning, Michelle was dressed in her basketball uniform when she showed up at the lobby with Karina.

"How do I look?" she summoned me.

"The uniform looks tremendous," I replied back. "Your body appears lean and strong as well."

We drove to the arena a few hours before the opening tip. Upon arrival, I was immediately denied entry by the security guard.

"Only authorized personnel with an official ID is allowed here," he informed me.

Fortunately, Michelle possessed a front-row ticket for the first game of the season. She promptly gave it to me before heading to the locker room.

Inside the arena, Karina and I sat down close to the team's bench. The place was oddly quiet in the hours leading into game time.

Soon fans began packing the arena in droves. Anticipation continued to grow as they sat down on their respective seats.

The game started at around 2:00 p.m. and it was downright ugly. There were too many turnovers, missed easy field goals and fouls all over the place.

Kyla even received a vicious cut on her left eyebrow. She was struck by an unsuspecting left elbow of an opponent during a rebound battle.

Ultimately, however, Michelle's team chalked up the first victory of the season. They won by only six points.

Michelle managed only ten points but her 16 assists made the difference. Kyla wound up scoring 13 markers herself.

The game was so intense and hard-fought I almost lost my voice in the final seconds. But all that screaming was still worth it.

Michelle's next game would not take place until the following Saturday. For now, though, her team joyously celebrated their initial win.

Monday morning, Claire and I were working diligently on our philosophy essay when Kyla suddenly showed up.

"Your eyebrow," Claire uttered with anxious concern. "Does it still hurt?"

"Don't worry about it," Kyla resolutely answered. "This was just a minor injury."

With our laptops on hand, we concentrated on explaining a notable quote from Confucius.

"The more man mediates upon good thoughts the better will be his world and the world at large."

It was a 300-word final essay with which our professor carefully instructed to the class. Luckily he allowed us to assist each other out as long as we did not plagiarize our papers.

For the next few hours, Claire, Kyla and myself worked on the long yet puzzling essay. Extensive research was only secondary to personal opinion so we genuinely tried our best to figure out the simple yet puzzling quote.

Later that afternoon, Michelle and I visited Ella's room and worked collaboratively on another 300-word essay for film production. The essay centered on the 'Star Wars' series of films.

"This is a very tough one," Ella commented on the matter. "Who here watched 'Star Wars' before?"

"Why did you ask?" Michelle reasonably questioned.

"Regrettably I did not grow up a 'Star Wars' fan," Ella responded. "My preference was on romantic comedy films."

"To be honest, 'Star Wars' already has about ten titles that watching them all could waste our time," I voiced my personal concern to Michelle and Ella. "We can just look at the spoilers and figure it out."

For the remainder of the afternoon, Michelle, Ella and myself worked on the essay. But as the brilliant sun started to set, our stomachs grumbled with hunger.

Fortunately, Ella took out some fast food at a nearby restaurant. After stuffing ourselves with sweet spaghetti and fried chicken, we promptly resumed our essay.

By 9:00 p.m., the project was completed. I was relieved to see a tedious and arduous day come to a close, but there was still plenty more to go.

Group projects on television and video production were still on the horizon. So was the final essay on photography, one that centered on night life.

The final stretch only gets more difficult.