Fatima's Diary Entry
Date: June 17, 2026 – 6:00 PM
Mood: Shaken / Confused / Nilalagnat yata ako
Dear Diary,
I think I almost died today. Literally. Bukod sa puyat ako kakasulat ng proposal natin para sa Intramurals, hindi pa ako nag-almusal kaninang umaga dahil hinanap ko pa yung bago kong medyas (pinalitan ko na yung namantsahan ng kape kahapon, and weirdly, may nakita akong bagong pack ng medyas sa locker ko kanina na walang pangalan, pero baka galing kay Mama?).
Anyway, Diary, we had a mandatory emergency meeting sa Student Council room pagkatapos ng klase.
Sobrang init dahil nasira yung isang electric fan. Rinig na rinig ko ang boses ni Jeco habang nagdi-discuss siya ng sports bracket, pero unti-unting lumalabo ang paningin ko. Ang bigat ng talukap ng mata ko, hanggang sa nag-blackout na ang paligid.
Akala ko talaga, sa sahig ang bagsak ko. I was ready for the pain. Pero Diary... hindi simento ang sumalo sa akin. Paggising ko sa clinic, ang unang bumungad sa akin ay ang mukha ni Jericho Sandejas. At hindi siya nakangiti. Galit siya. Sobrang seryoso ng mukha niya na halos matakot ako. Lord, ano ba 'tong nangyayari sa puso ko? Bakit mas mabilis pa ang tibok nito ngayon kaysa noong nahimatay ako?!
The Blackout
The afternoon sun was beating mercilessly against the glass windows of the Student Council room. The air conditioning unit was rattling loudly, barely making a dent in the suffocating heat.
Timmy sat at the head of the long table, her fingers typing furiously on her laptop, attempting to keep track of the minutes of the meeting.
"The basketball tournament will run simultaneously with volleyball," Jeco’s voice echoed across the room. He was standing by the whiteboard, a marker in hand, pointing at the bracket he had beautifully drawn up. For someone who usually didn't care about school rules, he was taking this Intramurals planning dangerously seriously.
"We need to ensure that the covered court is cleared by 4:00 PM every day for the cultural events."
Timmy tried to nod, but her head felt incredibly heavy. A sudden wave of nausea hit her, followed by a sharp, throbbing pain behind her temples.
The text on her laptop screen began to blur into illegible lines of black and white.
Huwag ngayon, Fatima, she told herself, gripping the edge of the table. Konti na lang. Matatapos na 'to.
"Timmy, are the security permits for the external referees ready?" Jeco asked, turning around from the board.
"Ah... yes, I..." Timmy stood up, intending to hand him the printed file, but the moment her feet bore her weight, the entire room spun violently.
The voices of the other council members suddenly sounded like they were underwater. Her knees buckled, and her grip on the table slipped.
She closed her eyes, bracing for the hard, unforgiving impact of the linoleum floor.
But the crash never came.
A pair of strong, muscular arms wrapped securely around her waist, pulling her flush against a broad chest just inches before she hit the ground. The sudden scent of expensive mint and sweat-tinged cologne filled her senses.
"Timmy! Uy, Timmy!" Jeco’s voice, completely stripped of its usual playful arrogance, sounded frantic. "Open your eyes. Hey!"
That was the last thing she heard before completely losing consciousness.
The Soft Side of the Monster
When Timmy finally opened her eyes, the first thing she smelled was the sharp, clinical scent of rubbing alcohol. The slow hum of a ceiling fan buzzed overhead. She was lying on the single bed inside the school clinic, a cool, damp towel resting on her forehead.
She blinked, turning her head to the side.
Jeco was sitting on a plastic stool right next to the bed. His school polo was unbuttoned at the collar, his hair a messy, disheveled heap as if he had been running his fingers through it repeatedly. He was staring at the floor, his jaw tightly clenched, holding a small box of Dutch Mill fresh milk and a pack of skyflakes in his lap.
"J-Jeco?" Timmy whispered, her throat dry.
Jeco’s head snapped up. The moment he saw she was awake, a visible wave of relief washed over his features, quickly replaced by a deep, dark frown. He stood up, towering over her.
"Sira ka ba?" Jeco scolded, his voice low but intense. "Sabi ng school nurse, hypoglycemia daw. Hindi ka kumain ng almusal at tanghalian, 'di ba? Tapos nagpuyat ka pa para sa proposal natin? Nagpapakamatay ka ba, Fatima Flor?!"
Timmy flinched slightly at the use of her full name. She pulled the blanket up to her chin, feeling small. "Kailangan nating tapusin yung draft... ayaw kong mapagalitan ni Ma'am Peralta—"
"Sino ba namang tanga ang uunahin ang proposal kaysa sa sariling buhay?!" Jeco interrupted, crossing his arms.
He let out a long, frustrated sigh, running a hand over his face. When he looked back at her, his eyes were incredibly soft, devoid of any malice or teasing. "Kaya ko namang gawin mag-isa 'yon, Timmy. Hindi mo kailangang magpakabayani."
He sat back down on the stool, peeling the straw off the milk box and puncturing the top before handing it to her. "O, inumin mo 'to. Kumain ka na rin. Hindi kita hahayaang lumabas ng clinic hangga't hindi nauubos 'yan."
Timmy took the milk, her fingers brushing against his. A jolt of electricity seemed to shoot up her arm, causing her to look down quickly to hide her blushing cheeks. She took a slow sip, the cold sweetness instantly making her feel a bit grounded.
"Salamat," she muttered softly. "At... salamat din sa pagsalo sa akin. Tsaka, ikaw ba nagbuhat sa akin papunta rito?"
Jeco rubbed the back of his neck, a faint, rare trace of pink appearing on his ears. "Sino pa ba? Ang bigat mo nga, eh. Mukha ka lang maliit pero parang may sako ng semento sa loob ng bag mo."
"Yabang mo talaga kahit kailan!" Timmy shot back, the familiar banter returning, though her heart was dancing a chaotic rhythm inside her chest.
"Ubusin mo na 'yan," Jeco smiled, that lazy, familiar grin returning to his lips as he reached out and gently tapped the edge of her nose with his finger. "Para makabalik na tayo sa pag-aaway bukas."
Timmy quickly looked away, taking a huge bite of the cracker to hide her smile.
Later that afternoon, after Jeco had left to attend his delayed varsity practice, Timmy reached for her bag on the side table. She pulled out her pink diary, her hand slightly shaking as she wrote:
Diary... I think I'm in big, big trouble. Jeco didn't look like a monster today. When he was worried about me, he looked... handsome. Safe. Generous. Lord, please delete this feeling. Bawal ma-fall sa kaaway. Bawal.
At the basketball court, Jeco sat on the bleachers while his teammates were practicing free throws. He ignored the coach's whistle for a second, pulling out his black notebook from his gym bag. He stared at the blank page for a long time before writing down a single, heavy sentence:
“Halos mamatay ako sa takot noong nawalan siya ng malay sa mga bisig ko. I don’t want to see her hurt ever again. Kahit ako pa ang kailangang magpuyat para sa aming dalawa.”