Queen of the Clueless #2 of 3 (COMPLETE)

Chapter 3

When I got to the Guidance Office to start my shift as a student employee, I saw the new memo tacked onto the cork board. It was the kind of thing that could ruin someone's day, if attempted hypnosis by a teacher didn't already accomplish that.

The Student Discipline Office has received three reports of theft on campus this month. We would like to remind all Ford River students not to leave their belongings unattended, or entrust them to people you barely know. Wearing of ID necklaces while inside the campus will be strictly enforced.

With a sigh, I fished for my ID in my bag and slipped it around my neck. It wasn't (just) that the yellow lanyard clashed with every outfit I owned and I looked like a zombie in my photo. News about stealing on campus, where eight out of ten students were Richie Rich sons and daughters of big names in business, politics, and international intrigue, that was bad news for students like me. Nobody ever said anything, but we scholarship kids (SKs, we called ourselves) felt the scrutiny. The ID-wearing order implied that the school suspected that outsiders were coming in and stealing stuff—highly unlikely. Why look that far for suspects? Not that any of us fine, upstanding SKs had ever been caught doing anything. Those who behaved badly in this school were usually the not-poor. Or the gods pretending to be human.

When Sol dropped by a few minutes later, I was still peeved about the whole thing.

"You know what's next?" I said, swinging my ID in her direction. "Color-coded uniforms and special bag inspection checkpoints. Just at the pedestrian gate, to check the ones who don't come to school in Jaguars."

I could say this to Sol, not just because she was my best friend, but because even though she could afford Ford River tuition, she was actually here on scholarship too. But people like her in the grey zone were very few, and I treated her as one of mine.

"I don't think that'll be necessary," she said, not exactly joining my outrage as I had hoped she would.

It's not always about you, I lectured myself. One of the things I kept forgetting was that, as Goddess of Love, I had to learn to listen.

"Sorry," I said. "You said you needed a serious talk, and I'm going on about the school thieves. I'm here for you, bestie. What did you want to talk about?"

Sol was not just one of the prettiest people I knew; she was also one of the smartest. I mean, there were people who were book smart and yet awful at making life choices, but not Sol.

"I think my boyfriend has been stealing from people," she said, her smart and pretty face completely serious. "What am I supposed to do?"

* * *

So this was the situation:

Sol was not originally from here. Here, meaning the hilly provincial town just outside Metro Manila where Ford River College was located. She used to live in Naga, an hour's plane ride away, and she was recruited right out of high school with offers of a full scholarship and free housing. (Ford River was a rich school, but not the one everyone wanted to go to just yet.) When she decided to take the offer, she left behind the high school boyfriend, who gave up too quickly on their long-distance arrangement.

I never met the guy, but I knew what a wrong move that was, breaking up with Sol. She's gorgeous. She looked perpetually, and naturally, sun-kissed, and was tall enough to be a model—if models ate right and slept more. But the breakup rattled her, and it took a while for her to decide to start seeing other people in school.

So that led to Neil, the guy who charmed her in freshman PE class, and a few dates led to actual boyfriend-girlfriend status. Should I have said something, like "Hey, why don't you date other people first, before settling down right away with this guy?" Neil, after all, was not from here too. We didn't really know who he was, didn't hang out with any of his friends. But this was college, not high school where everyone's families went back several generations.