To Start a Day

Here's something I started writing last Saturday and finished this morning. It's funny that I was working on this when I said I'd be working on my PolSc midterm papers. Drat.

To Start a Day
by beaple leone michaelmas
IT IS A CHILLY FEBRUARY MORNING, and she is late for her seven o’clock class. She hops into the first yellow-topped jeepney she sees, muttering a couple of distracted excuses at those whose feet she unintentionally steps on, all the while wondering if her professor had felt the sudden urge to give a pop quiz on last meeting’s discussion. With furrowed eyebrows and an inward curse, she settles at one edge of the half-hard, half-soft benches of the vehicle, positioning herself right behind the whistling driver. As she takes out her coin purse and begins fishing for six pesos, her eyes find themselves magnetically drawn to the figure sitting near the mouth of the jeepney, her fingers freezing for a moment before moving involuntarily as though her heart has not just skipped a bit.

He is yawning now, his pale, lanky frame bent towards the window. As his face relaxes into a sleepy expression, she sees that his eyes are heavy-lidded and glassy; apparently, he has just woken up. Not that she has the right to pry into his life, but at that moment, she wonders what kept him up all night. Homework? A movie? Or did he stay up until dawn, texting that Tourism major who was rumored to be his girlfriend?

As she hands the driver her fare, she frowns at her own stupidity. What business does she have thinking about his love life? She was not even sure he knew her by face, let alone by name. After all, in their college nameless, faceless people come and go – there is not much need for social interaction in Engineering.

Still, she believes it is natural for any girl to develop some semblance of crush on the smartest guy in the entire batch. What harm will it do anyway, catching his eye in an early morning ride to class? At most, he might find her intriguing, but in all likelihood, the incident will be forgotten by lunchtime.

And so she tries to catch his eye by staring at him intently, willing him to look away from the scenery outside, wanting him to look straight into her eyes for once. To really see her. To be intrigued by her presence. So she stares.

And stares.

And stares some more.

Suddenly, he stops looking outside, and his gaze shifts, bored eyes panning the faces of other passengers. Upon reaching her face, he pauses, and recognition flashes before his face. He frowns thoughtfully, and stares back at her, just as she is beginning to blush at the sudden eye contact. Then his eyebrows suddenly rise, before he finally smiles.

A rather weak, foolish smile.

A simple smile of recognition.

And yet it makes her day.


IT IS A CHILLY FEBRUARY MORNING, and he is riding an early jeepney to Math as usual. He sits on one edge of the half-hard, haft-soft benches of the vehicle, near its mouth, looking at the world outside with tired eyes and a bored expression caused by reading until midnight. It was a half-assed novel, in all honestly, but for some reason everyone in the council is addicted to its pettiness. Whether he likes it or not, however, he has to read it, too – it is one of those things that automatically fit into his job description as an officer of the student body.

As the jeepney passes by the twin dorms, a girl enters the jeep, and accidentally steps on his shoes. He is slightly irritated, not only at the act itself (because these are new shoes after all) but also at the way she apologizes – haphazard, half-meant, an altogether pathetic apology. He frowns up at her decidedly, but as she sits on one end of the half-hard, half-soft benches of the jeep, he recognizes her as that ditz from last sem’s English. The one who answered every question their professor posed. The one who laughed too loud with her friends at the back of the classroom. The only other upperclassman in a room filled with freshmen.

And yet he has never spoken to her. Although, strangely enough, he has always wanted to.

Her gaze falls on him, and he sees her hands freeze, her eyes widen in a shock of realization. His pulse quickens – has she recognized him? If she has, she makes it a point to look as though she has not; she hands the driver her fare and goes on about her own business, albeit very consciously.

He frowns for the second time that morning. Partly because he has just been ignored, and partly because his gut is reacting adversely to being snubbed by this girl. As he trains his gaze at the world outside, he tells himself she is inconsequential to his happiness. Life will not change simply because this one girl refused to recognize him. Ditzy, noisy, inelegant – she was not his type anyway.

Still, as he feels her gaze targeted at him, he finds his eyes magnetically pulled from beyond the window, involuntarily, almost instinctively, meeting her eye. Despite himself, his lips form into a small, amused smile – she really is weird. His brain automatically works on full capacity, thinking up a few topics of conversation to spring on her. Hey, long time no see. What grade did you get for English? Do you have a class this early? You’re from Engineering, aren’t you? Will you be attending the event this weekend?

Just as he finishes outlining what he wants to say, she shifts her gaze to the person on his left, acting as though she does not recognize him at all. Eyebrows rising, he turns to the passenger beside him: a slouching, yawning teenager much like himself, spare the distracting lime-green shirt, tousled hair and bloodshot eyes.

Is she seriously ignoring him for this?

He looks away as the guy catches her staring. He tries not to see the face that scrunches up thoughtfully or the blush that creeps up her cheeks as they continue to stare at each other. He forcibly reminds himself of all the things he has to do today: finish paper due on Friday, read the next chapter for 180, remind his Vice-Chair that they have to meet a sponsor for the event this weekend, remind everyone else that there is a college-wide GA tomorrow…

And yet, he is very much aware of the other guy finally smiling at her. And at the corner of his eye, he sees her smile as well.

A rather weak, foolish smile.

A smile of one who is recognized.

He tells himself it should not ruin his day.