“Gotta work on being a better chaperone then.”
I roll my eyes and drink my coffee, making sure that Seph doesn’t see me smiling behind the mug.
8
One of the worst feelings in the world: waking up before my alarm.
I groan when my phone screen reads five thirtyAM. My body is supposed to have thirty more minutes of blissful sleep… Why does my body not want that for me?!
It also doesn’t help that I didn’t fall asleep until two in the morning. I mean, late nights aren’t unusual for me, but this wasn’t a case of my regular insomnia. The reason I forsook hours of valuable sleep was Ma’s silent treatment.
When Ma’s upset with me, I’m used to the sermons, her favorite line:Why can’t you be more like your sister?
Yesterday, though? I got nothing.
She came home after their Gloria Maris lunch and asked me if I had eaten already. I said yes and she proceeded to go to her room to make some calls. Achi joined us for dinner and they only talked about bakery-related topics—not one word about how I was rude, immature, no comments from Achi that I probably turned out the way I did because kid-me once bumped my head on my crib.
They’re not going to sway me into thinking I was wrong for calling out Dr. Derrick yesterday. All those things I said to Ma? I was upset about Dr. Derrick, not her! Just because he tricked Ma into saying yes to his proposal doesn’t mean he can weasel his way into my family.
Although, it’s way easier to defend that I was right if Ma actually brings up what had happened.
If we can’t articulate ourselves through words, maybe we cando it through food. Hence, me waking up extra early to make breakfast for Ma before going to school. It’s a great strategy: I’ll make Ma breakfast, open up about my side of why Derrick shouldn’t have been there yesterday, then she’ll see the error of her ways and cancel the whole wedding!
I kick off my blanket and set my plan into action.
But someone already got to the kitchen before me.
“Why do you even pay rent for your apartment?” I ask Achi, who’s already in the middle of heating up corned beef. She’s also giving me the silent treatment, but I can tell hers is out of pettiness.
“I need the kitchen,” I say when Achi pretends like I don’t exist.
She still doesn’t look at me. “For what?”
“To make breakfast.”
Achi scoffs and checks the rice cooker while still stirring onions in the pan. “What are you going to make? Eggs na naman?”
“Eggs are a worldwide breakfast staple!” I insist.
For Mother’s Day, we usually make Ma breakfast in bed where I take my time preparing my scrambled eggs with the perfect runny texture. While I’m focused on my specialty, Achi does a hundred things at once and makes longganisa, bangus, tocino, and every other breakfast food ever invented. It’s not my fault that I prefer quality over quantity.
“Don’t use my pan,” I warn her before going to the bathroom. I can deal with reclaiming the kitchen more effectively after I brush my teeth.
Shutting the bathroom door behind me, I turn on the faucet and splash my face with water. I try to focus on anything else instead of the feelings that are lighting my head on fire.
Shut it down, Nika. Ignore it, ignore it.
Still, all the things I’m angry at keep cycling through my mind.
I am pissed at Achi for hogging the kitchen and insulting my eggs.
I am pissed at my stupid body clock that doesn’t let me sleep.
I am pissed that I have to wear retainers for the rest of my life.
Most of all, I am still incredibly pissed that Ma is moving on with Dr. freaking Derrick.
The mirror fogs up as I’m trying my hardest to wash away everything I’m pissed at. None of this is productive! I have to move on and figure out how Nika Ilagan will thrive on this given Monday.
