2 Entry #2: Armchair

I frowned when for the third time the biometrics couldn't identify our fingerprints. The school guard vehemently refused to let us in.

I stared at the guard and tried hard to keep my voice polite. "I told you we're transferees, and our prints are yet to be added to the system."

The guard had to call the registrar's office to confirm if we really belonged at the university. The biometrics system at St. Mark University got me choking on my own saliva.

How did our mother manage to send us to such an expensive school?

"Minus points," Roxanne told the guard, which had the latter creased his forehead in confusion. "I honestly thought you were so good-looking and daddy material. Because you didn't let us in, I shall decrease your charm points."

The guard got startled by my sister's blunt and flirty character. I elbowed my younger sister and reprimanded her.

"Behave," I scolded through gritted teeth.

The brat snickered. When the guard finally let us in, Rox threw her arm around me.

"Ate, your goal for this new school should be getting a boyfriend. This is your chance!"

I wanted to slap her, but she immediately ran ahead of me. Two seconds later, she returned to my side with a sheepish smile and said, "I don’t know the way to the faculty room."

That was my chance. I smacked her head.

Students gave us weird eyes. Understandable, because Roxanne and I weren't in uniforms, which in SMU's strict policy, was not allowed. Our uniforms were still in the hands of the school tailor, so we could weasel out of such a policy.

A student was kind enough to lead us toward the junior high school faculty room.

“Excuse me, ma’am," I called to one of the teachers. "May I speak to Miss Liezel Ramirez?”

One teacher stood up from her cubicle and went near us. She smiled and asked me, "Roxanne Donito?"

Rox raised her hand. "That's me, Ma'am."

"And Sir Castro, Ma'am?” I politely asked the teacher.

“Here!” Another teacher raised his hand and smiled at me. “Jasmine, right? My new student?” He said as soon as he arrived in front of me.

I suddenly felt tiny painful pinches on my waist, and I silently cursed Rox inside my head.

"You're so lucky, sis," Rox whispered. "So handsome."

I awkwardly smiled at Sir Castro and secretly elbowed my sister. I hated this particular trait of Rox. She swooned over handsome guys every chance she got.

But, on an honest note, Sir Castro was indeed a very handsome man with charming eyes and a refreshing smile. Behind his pinkish lips were his perfectly aligned paper-white teeth.

"Come with me," Miss Liezyl told my sister. "I'll introduce you to your classmates."

Rox gave me a nervous glance before tailing her new teacher.

“You, young miss, come with me.”

I focused my attention on Sir Castro. I followed him outside.

While walking in the third floor's corridor, many students, mostly females, would get out of their rooms to greet Sir Castro.

I didn't want to say anything or be judgmental. But by the smiles on the girls' faces, I thought they fancied him. I glanced at my new teacher. But then again, I understood why.

“You're a bit famous, Sir,” I commented.

“Thanks to my good looks,” he joked.

I wanted to complain, but it was true, so…

“I will be your homeroom teacher and your Mathematics teacher. Do you like Math?”

I winced at his question. Math?

“No, Sir,” I replied.

“Don't worry. Ninety percent of my students learned to love Math when I became their teacher, thanks to my teaching method.” He sounded extra confident.

I almost laughed but managed to control my laughter.

"Are you sure, Sir, that it's because of your teaching method?"

He looked at me with a furrowed forehead. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing, Sir."

Maybe it was not Math they loved, but the teacher himself.

We stopped in front of a classroom with a placard above that said: FORTITUDE. He led me inside, and different pairs of eyes gawked at me.

“Class, you have a new classmate.”

Some of the boys cat-whistled, and I glared at them to ensure they knew I wasn't some chick they could flirt with.

I could hear whispering. They probably thought it was weird for someone to transfer during the fourth quarter.

“I’m Jasmine Donito,” I introduced myself curtly.

I saw the disappointment on the teacher's face when he heard no more after my name.

After his reminders, he ended it with, “Be kind to Jasmine.”

The chairs were made of wood, which I didn't expect. There were four columns of chairs, two lines per column.

And the only vacant seat was…

I looked around.

I sighed in relief after seeing that the only vacant chair was the second to the last seat near the door. Nice!

I quickly made my way to the chair, and the class president went near me.

“Hi, I’m Brita. If you have any questions, or if you ever need assistance, you can ask our VP. I'm out of campus for the rest of the periods this morning."

I nodded at her. Then she called someone.

“He is our vice president," Brita introduced him to me and smiled before she left.

I planned to introduce myself to him but changed my mind quickly when I saw the guy didn't look that friendly. What a shame! He was so good-looking but unapproachable.

For two periods, I was glued to my seat, except during the time teachers asked me to introduce myself to them. It started to annoy me when I noticed our VP stealing glances at me.

‘Or am I seeing things?’

Feeling the peak of my boredom, I yawned and looked down at my armchair. It was tempting me to sleep. However, something caught my eye.

On the wooden table of my chair, I noticed a name carved in bold letters. I caressed the name and felt the strokes with my finger.

“Angel?” I muttered.

‘Is it just me? Or does the name sound familiar?’

Then I remembered.

‘The diary! So… is the Angel, the former owner of my room, the same Angel who formerly owned my chair?’

I suddenly had goosebumps all over my body, driving my sleep away.

‘No, this could be a coincidence!’

“Newbie...”

I looked at the person who had just spoken.

Now that he stood in front of me, I realized he was so tall.

"I have a name," I retorted and made sure he would catch the irritation in my tone.

“Jasmine—”

“Just call me Jas,” I interjected.

“Okay, Jas." He sounded irritated. “Come with me. I'll show you to your locker."

I quietly followed him outside.

"By the way, I'm Nickle."

So our VP was named Nickle. He looked cranky.

He led me to the lockers, showed me my locker, then gave me its key. I tried to open it, but I paused and stared at the name tag.

No, it wasn't my name. The name I read created a frown on my face.

Angel. It was Angel again!

‘What are these crazy coincidences? Why does the name Angel keep on popping wherever I go?’

“Just who the fuck is Angel?” I carelessly uttered aloud.

“Huh?”

I looked at Nickle, who looked at me cluelessly.

"Huh?" I also said.

“You know Angel?”

“No.”

“But you mentioned her name.” Nickle looked shocked.

I pointed at the nametag on my locker.

He removed the name tag. "I will ask for your nametag later."

“Who is Angel?”

Nickle stared at me with disoriented eyes. He looked like he was unsure if he could tell who Angel was.

“She's—”

He stopped when the school bell relentlessly rang.

Great timing!

We went back to the classroom and didn’t further discuss Angel. When the dismissal time came, I became a bit disconcerted when I noticed my new classmates looking at me in melancholy as they passed by me when they went out.

“What's with the stares?” I asked Nickle when we were the only ones left in the room.

"They're not just used that someone else is sitting there." He pointed at my chair.

"Why? Who sits here before me?"

"Angel."

So I guessed it right. The former owner of my chair was Angel. But maybe they were not the same Angel who owned my room. Besides, Angel was a pretty common name.

"Where's Angel now? Did she transfer schools?"

Nickle shook his head and stared at me. And the next thing he said baffled me.

"She died."