The Bridge Gang

How She Met Her

by Sharmaine

It was dark outside, droplets of rain fell from the sky. It was gloomy and cold that day, February 9, 2006. The fair was fast approaching, two days is a very short period of time to prepare.

A plump freshmen student roamed around the stairs for a while. She was getting bored and tired, wondering how she could get home without an umbrella.

The school was almost empty, it was a thursday after all. Classes were suspended, with the exception of the club officers and batch coordinators, so that they could prepare for the school fair.

The freshmen was walking aimlessly for a while, alone. She was an outcast after all, she had to hide from them, the people that taught her what hatred is.

She was fast approaching the third floor dining hall when she saw a girl with a cap. Her face showed that she was bored out of her wits as much as I was. I stopped and stared at her for a while. I know that it’s not polite to stare, but her face was so angelic that I can’t find the strength to stop myself.

She was walking down the stairs from the third floor to notice that I was staring. In turn, she stared right back at me.

“Hi.”

That snapped me back into reality, it’s been so long since a person treated me normally again. For once, I remembered how it was back then, when it was still easy to be friendly with people. High school came and I lost all of them, all of those who became close to me, except one. I was crushed, really, by how society treated people like me, people that are outcasts.

I smiled at her and asked, “What grade are you in?”

“No, I’m a freshmen.”

“We’re batchmates???”

That was when I felt dread settle in. Everyone knew who I was, I was the bitch, the slut, the whore, trash as they’ve called me. Sharmaine Santiago, when they hear that name, whoever it is, she’s not worth knowing. I’m not worth it. That’s how it is. I suddenly had the sudden urge to turn around and run away, so that I will be able to avoid being hated, yet again, by another person that I don’t even know.

“Where are you heading?” I heard her ask.

“Oh, nowhere in particular.”

“Me too.”

She seems friendly, she seems as though she wouldn’t judge me. That was my first thought to every single person that still didn’t know my name. I trust too much, maybe. I put too much faith into people’s good that I sometimes forget my place in this world. I’m the lowest of the low, I’m not even worth talking to. But then, why am I even having this conversation with this girl.

//What’s the difference? I mean, it’s worth a try. It’s worth trying to have a friend.//

“Sabay nalang tayo.”

We smiled at each other and went to the fifth floor. She was there because her brother was helping for the background of the Chinese singing contest. They were painting and painting, so I decided to help them. I found a lot of new friends that day, and it was a day I shall never regret trying.

“I’m Sharmaine, what’s your name?”

“Kimly Ang.”

And she shall forever have a place inside my heart.