Chapter 4

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When I was a kid, I didn't dream of going to Ford River College. I don't think anyone has ever really done that (grow up dreaming of going there) because it's still kind of new.

I didn't really spend that much time thinking about college, but I kind of took for granted that it would be one of the usual universities in Manila. Compared to them, Ford River is a toddler of a college among senior citizens. It opened its doors only fifteen years ago, setting up a six-building campus in an upscale neighborhood outside of the metro. Until my mom did some work for them a few years ago, I had never even heard of them.

She fell in love with the school though, and couldn't stop talking about it. Soon it became clear to me that she didn't intend for me to go anywhere else. I had once said I maybe wanted to study psychology, and she confirmed that Ford River indeed had an excellent psych program if I wanted to end up in corporate. (Although I'm sure she would have said the same thing if I mysteriously wanted to study something else, like organic farming.)

Soon we found out that we couldn't possibly afford the tuition, and my mom again made sure that I submitted the extra paperwork and got into the scholarship program. My friends and relatives thought I should at least work on getting accepted elsewhere, to be safe, but at a certain point it was clear to me that I was being led to that one place, whether I liked it or not.

Did I want to go to Ford River? I visited the campus and it looked beautiful, its brick buildings scattered in a field of green that looked out onto an actual (clean) creek on one side, and a hill on the other. I went to a high school in the middle of Manila, and maybe I'd had enough of that.

I just went with the flow. I didn't resist it.

And what do you know? A few weeks into my first semester, I meet Quin.

Kathy's question echoed in my head, but I heard it in my own voice. Do I dare hope that this is destiny?

I pinched the inside of my elbow as hard as I could, so I would wake up from the silly daydream.

* * *

Because no one I knew dreamed about going to Ford River, no one I knew ended up going to this school with me. Sol, my college best friend, was from Bicol. She was invited by Ford River to apply, probably because of her killer math skills, and when she got the acceptance letter it included a full scholarship.

"Why are you prettier today?" Sol said, right there in the middle of the cafeteria as we waited for our burgers.

"Shut up," I said automatically.

"I'm not kidding. Your hair is so pretty lately."

My instinct was to shrug and think that Sol was just being nice. Until I met her, being "pretty today" was not a concept I was familiar with. I was a regular-looking person, okay but not a knockout, much in the style of Kathy Martin. It didn't occur to me that someone could wake up one day and be more attractive than before.

Sol, on the other hand, was striking. I personally thought she was beautiful, but she insisted that she didn't feel that way. Her features (dark skin, sharp chin, silky hair) weren't typical of the faces on TV ads. She never said anything, but I wouldn't be surprised if at some point in her life someone had made her feel ugly. On some days she believed that, on others she saw the truth about herself, as I saw it.

In any case, she believed that people had pretty days and ugly days.

"Is it because you're growing your hair long? It's like the longest I've ever seen it."

"I look the same, Sol."

"You don't." Sol stuck her face so very close to my cheek. "Did you get a facial? Your pores are great. What have you been doing differently lately?"

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