cuatro

The walk back to my desk was the longest walk of my life. My cheeks were burning, my palms were clammy, and my brain couldn’t decide whether to scream or shut down completely.

I’d gone to Ms. Hontiveros’s office for a simple clarification about the quiz, but somehow, I walked out with more questions than answers—about her, about myself, about… whatever weird energy had just filled the room.

Focus, Alice. It’s nothing. She’s your teacher, and you’re just overthinking again.

I sat down, gripping my pen like it was the only thing keeping me tethered to reality. Cassy glanced at me from her seat, her eyebrow raised. “You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I’m fine,” I mumbled, pretending to scribble something in my notebook. The last thing I needed was for Cassy to start asking questions.

“Did you talk to Ms. Hontiveros?” she pressed, leaning in. “What did she say? Is she mad about the quiz?”

“No, she’s not mad,” I said quickly, trying to sound casual. “She just explained what I got wrong.”

Cassy’s curiosity didn’t waver. “And?”

“And nothing,” I snapped, a little too harshly. She blinked, taken aback, and I sighed. “Sorry. I’m just… tired.”

She shrugged, clearly unconvinced, but thankfully, she dropped it.

The rest of the day crawled by. Every time Ms. Hontiveros glanced my way during class, I felt like I was about to combust. Was I imagining it, or did her eyes linger a little longer than usual? Or was that just my overactive imagination making a fool of me again?

When the bell finally rang, signaling the end of the day, I practically bolted out of the room. My thoughts were a jumbled mess, and I needed to clear my head.

By the time I got home, the chaos of the classroom felt far away, but the image of Ms. Hontiveros—her soft smile, the way her voice lingered in my mind—refused to leave me. I buried my face in my pillow, groaning.

“She’s just a teacher,” I muttered to myself. “Stop being so weird, Alice.”

But no matter how hard I tried to convince myself, I couldn’t shake the feeling that today had been anything but ordinary.

———

The next day felt painfully normal, as if yesterday’s bizarre encounter had never happened. I convinced myself I was overthinking things.

Ms. Hontiveros didn’t act weird, so why was I making a big deal out of it?

English class was just about to start, and I could already feel the tension creeping in. It wasn’t nerves exactly—it was just the way the air felt whenever she walked into the room. Like every molecule rearranged itself to accommodate her presence.

When she strode in, carrying her lesson plans and that effortless confidence, the class instantly fell silent. She had that effect.

“Good morning, everyone,” she greeted, her smile lighting up the room. “Today, we’re going to have a recitation.”

Groans filled the air like clockwork.

“Don’t look so disappointed,” she teased, placing her papers on the desk. “It’s not meant to torture you. It’s just a chance to get you thinking and speaking critically. Plus…” She paused, her smile turning mischievous. “Participation is part of your grade.”

I sank lower in my seat. Participation was not my strong suit.

“Alright,” she continued, scanning the room. “Let’s warm up. Who can tell me what ‘existential’ means?”

Existential. Great. The word that tripped me up during last week’s reading. My cheeks burned at the memory.

“Cassy,” Ms. Hontiveros called.

Cassy sat up straighter. “Uh, it’s something about existence? Like, questioning life and stuff?”

Ms. Hontiveros smiled. “Good start. Can anyone expand on that?” Her eyes roamed the room, and my stomach dropped when they landed on me. “Alice?”

I froze. My mouth opened, but no sound came out. My brain scrambled for words, but all I could think about was the fact that she was looking at me.

“It’s okay,” she said, her tone encouraging. “Take your time.”

I swallowed hard. “It’s… um…” My voice was barely above a whisper. “It’s about, like, life’s meaning? Or… questioning why we’re here?”

Her smile widened, and for a brief moment, it felt like I was the only person in the room. “That’s right,” she said warmly. “Existentialism is about exploring the purpose of existence and our place in the world.”

I nodded, my heart hammering in my chest.

“Great answer,” she added, and I felt an unfamiliar warmth spread through me.

The rest of the class continued, but I found it hard to focus. Every time she spoke, her voice pulled me in. She had this way of making the most mundane topics sound fascinating, like every word mattered.

When the recitation ended, she clapped her hands. “Good job today, everyone. You’re getting better at thinking on your feet. Keep it up.”

As we packed up our things, Cassy leaned over. “You totally nailed that,” she whispered. “I thought you’d freeze up again.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I muttered, rolling my eyes.

“No, seriously,” she said, grinning. “Ms. Hontiveros looked so proud of you. It was cute.”

My face burned. “Stop.”

She smirked. “Just saying. You’ve got her attention, that’s all.”

I shoved my notebook into my bag, trying to ignore the way my heart fluttered at those words.

It didn’t mean anything. She was just being a good teacher. That was all.

Right?