As I boarded the bus that fateful day, I thought of how this would work out. I wondered how all of my high school friends were doing. They were still having fun, sipping the last drips of fun from summer’s cup. I longed for the times we spent together just this past summer, swimming on the sandy beaches of Batangas. I sat there thinking about what was about to happen next.
The bus wobbled like my insides. My guts were all tied up in tangles as I nervously anticipated when the bus would stop. The traffic in Las Piñas was fairly heavy that day, and I only realized that I was already running late when the bus was halfway into Coastal Road. My stomach tightened at the thought of being late on the first day. I frantically searched my head for ways on how to get to school faster.
I was already at Buendia then, and I decided to just ride it out. I anxiously fixed myself up, thinking of what they’d say to students who are late on their first day in college. When the bus neared Vito Cruz, I got up and out as quickly as I could, almost running to the front of the bus and jumping out of its door. Then I checked the time on my cellular phone – I was already fifteen minutes late. I stared at it in horror.
I need not bare the rest of the embarrassing details of this story, for it pains me and makes me laugh at the same time. I was so foolish then, not minding the time as I slowly made my way to the bus stop before, never even looking at the time. I envied the other freshmen. They who made it on time, the people who made a good impression on their first day. I, on the other hand, had a not-so-pleasant ordeal.
Even if so, I’m glad I got to school alone. It was remarkable for me to go to college this far from home. I