Page 69 of Chasing Mr. Prefect

I sawthe bouquet at the table waiting for me as I made my way downstairs and I wanted to hide from embarrassment. Cris andLiana were giving me weird, knowing looks. Dad pretended to continue reading the news on his iPad.

Lifting the bouquet, I found Ferreros instead of flowers and laughed. There was a small Post-it note attached to the handle.

Since you hate flowers and everything they stand for, I got you chocolates. Here’s to getting chonky together. Happy 3rd!

There were more stuff waiting for me. In Finance 2, I had a wrapped book on top of my usual seat. There were little gifts I found in my seats in class all day, even in Business Law. I was sure Professor Villafranca noticed but I was glad he did not comment on it and hid a smile instead.

The best part was in Marketing. I was first to arrive in the classroom, and Miss Co called me over to her table as soon as I walked in.

“Hoy,” she said. “I heard you assumed I was flunking you and you were planning not to come in again. Is that right?”

I nodded, not meeting her eyes.

“Next time, talk to me directly,” she said. “And no more fights, especially not with sponsors. You’re only off the hook because it was Atsi’s fault and she knows it.”

“I’m so sorry, Miss Co,” I said.

“It wasn’t just you who had been unprofessional. Atsi was older and she should have known better than humiliate Cholo and try to lunge at you in front of ten other people.”

“Are we getting reported?” I asked. I remembered Cholo mentioning that the club could get in hot water if the sponsor found out about what happened.

“No. We agreed to keep this quiet. Atsi also had a duty as a brand sponsor and she breached that. She would be the one in bigger trouble with her employer if this came out.

But still. Don’t push your luck. No more trouble, okay?”

I nodded and enjoyed the rest of the class. Dad texted me that I was effectively not grounded anymore so I used the extra time after dismissal to browse through my choices for BA 199 (Practicum) and the open slots for our Feasibility Study subject next semester.

“Heard you’re off the hook,” said a voice behind me as I took notes from a bulletin board. There was Summer, smiling, her ridiculous candidate name tag hanging over her chest. “Wanna join my feasib group?”

“What, so you can mooch off and take credit for my efforts one more time?” I replied, smirking. “That’s really thoughtful of you, but no.”

“Yourefforts? Nice try. If it weren’t for Cholo’s foresight, you wouldn’t be here at all. What are you still doing here, anyway?” she said with a surprised tone and a scathing, high laugh as she looked at the board. “Go home. You’re already enlisted for Feasib and 199.”

“Look, Summer?—”

“Oh, Cholo didn’t tell you, then,” she said, feigned surprise still on her face. “You’re already in his Feasib group. Your topic’s picked, your 199 slot is ensured since he already had an Ephemere sponsor pledging an intern’s slot for you since they liked the launch so much?—”

“Hold on,” I said, raising a hand to shut her up. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m a student assistant so I know,” she answered. “He, on the other hand, is a prefect, and both groups get early enlistment privileges. He was so thoughtful to enlist you, too.”

“He didn’t tell me that,” I muttered, panicking. Did Cholo really do all that without consulting me?

But why?

“Didn’t I tell you he already has everything planned out?” she asked. “His family’s hard to impress so he’s doing the work now, especially after what you pulled with his cousin. Little things at first—subjects, internships, no biggie. Next time it will be the clothes you wear, how you wear those ridiculous bangs, and eventually everything else. Cholo is a proactive decision maker, always thinking of what’s next. I wonder what else he has in line for you?”

“Whatever it is, you won’t be around to find out.”

“Then I hope to God you have it in you to mold into his family’s definition of a worthy match.”

I stomped off and stuffed my notebook into my bag, ears ringing. I knew it was Summer I was talking to but even as I tried to push her words as far away as I could, I could not. Cholo was a planner, that was for sure. But deep in my mind, where my worst fears resided, I wondered if that was true, if he was indeed wanting to turn me into someone else, someone more worthy—someone who would be better to take home to his family. Like Summer.

I had stayed in my own pit of dark thoughts and forgot that I was supposed to catch a ride with him home. The moment I realized I had forgotten, I was already on the bus halfway through Coastal Road.

No one was there yetwhen I got to the house and it was still dark. I opened the lights, thinking of whether to call him or not when the doorbell rang. Cholo’s black Altis was in front of thehouse and he was standing beside it with his hands on his hips, furious.

I went outside.