
Chapter X: The "Uncle"
The morning sun peeks through the horizon as Liz pulls her uniform straight and grabs her bag. The house is filled with its usual hum of activity, with Dolores chatting on the phone and Dominga humming a tune in the kitchen. Liz exchanges goodbyes with her family and steps out into the warm morning air, ready for another school day.
At the school gate, Liz spots Wyn, who is leaning casually against a lamppost with her signature smile.
"Always early, huh?" Liz greets her with a teasing tone.
"You know me," Wyn replies, slinging her bag over her shoulder as they walk into the campus together.
The two friends weave through the bustling crowd of students, heading toward their first destination—the comfort room.
As they step into the CR, Liz freezes mid-step, her gaze locking onto a familiar face by the mirrors. Her stomach churns as the figure turns slightly, a faint smirk playing on his lips. It's him—the person she least wanted to see.
"Liz?" Wyn's voice breaks through her thoughts. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Liz quickly replies, shaking her head as she averts her gaze and heads toward the nearest sink.
Wyn raises a brow but doesn't push further. After freshening up, they leave the CR, but Liz can't shake off the unsettling feeling gnawing at her.
The day trudges on as they settle into the classroom. The teacher drones on about equations and formulas, but Liz's mind drifts elsewhere. She tries to focus, scribbling notes and doodling in the margins of her notebook, but the image of the person she saw in the CR lingers in her mind.
When the lunch bell rings, it's a relief. Liz and Wyn pack up their things and head to the canteen, eager for a break.
The canteen is alive with the clatter of trays and the hum of conversation. Liz orders her usual, and Wyn grabs a sandwich and a juice box. They take their food to the school monument, a quieter spot where they can eat and chat in peace.
As they settle down, Liz finally starts to relax. She picks at her food while Wyn launches into a story about her cousin's latest mishap involving a runaway dog and a garden hose. Liz chuckles at the image Wyn paints, but her laughter fades as a shadow passes by.
It's him again.
The guy walks past, his posture relaxed, his expression unreadable. Liz stiffens, her grip tightening on her fork.
"What now?" Wyn asks, noticing her friend's sudden change in demeanor.
Liz mumbles something under her breath, her eyes following the figure as he disappears into the crowd.
"Okay, spill it." Wyn's tone is firm now, her patience clearly thinning.
"Who is that guy, and why do you look like you just saw a ghost every time he's near?"
Liz hesitates, her gaze dropping to her half-eaten plate of food.
"It's... a long story," she finally admits.
Wyn crosses her arms, leaning back against the monument.
"Well, we've got time. Start talking."
Liz exhales, her thoughts swirling as she considers where to even begin. The memories come flooding back, bringing with them a mix of anger, frustration, and sadness.
She looks up at Wyn, her voice quiet but steady.
"He's someone I wish I could forget. Someone who..."
Before she can finish, the bell rings, signaling the end of the lunch break. Liz breathes a small sigh of relief, grateful for the reprieve.
"Saved by the bell," Wyn mutters, grabbing her tray.
"But don't think you're off the hook. I want the full story later."
Liz nods, forcing a small smile as they head back to class. But deep down, she knows this isn't over—not with the past suddenly resurfacing like this.
The afternoon sun filters through the classroom windows as their teacher finishes the last line of the lesson. The bell rings, signaling the end of the period, and the students stir in their seats, ready for what's next. But before they can reach for their books, a voice rings out.
"Our next teacher won't be able to make it today," the class president announces, a grin forming on his face.
"We have a vacant!"
The classroom erupts into cheers, and students scatter—some chatting, others pulling out their phones or doodling in their notebooks.
Wyn leans over to Liz, nudging her with an elbow.
"So... about that guy you were talking about earlier."
Liz freezes for a moment, her hand tightening around her pen.
"Wyn, I don't think—"
"Oh, come on," Wyn interrupts, her voice playful but insistent.
"You can't just drop hints like that and not spill the tea."
Liz glances around the room, uneasy.
"Fine," she mutters, standing up.
"But not here." She grabs Wyn's arm and pulls her out of the classroom.
They settle on the stairs at the far end of the building, a quiet spot where their voices won't carry. Liz fidgets with her hands, her gaze fixed on the floor.
"Okay," Wyn starts, breaking the silence.
"Spill it. Who is he, and why do you look like you've seen a ghost every time he's around?"
Liz takes a deep breath, steeling herself.
"He's someone who almost ruined me and Bennett."
Wyn's brow furrows, her curiosity piqued.
"What do you mean?"
Liz hesitates, her mind tugged back to the memories she's tried so hard to bury. Slowly, the past comes flooding back.
It was a sunny afternoon, and Liz and Bennett were sitting on a bench in the school courtyard. Bennett pointed toward a group of boys lounging near the library.
"Who's that skinny, obnoxious-looking guy you keep pointing at?" he asked, his tone half-joking but laced with curiosity.
Liz hesitated before answering, her voice tinged with admiration.
"That's my... uncle. Vincent Angelo Rivera Pascual."
Bennett raised an eyebrow.
"Uncle? Really?"
Liz nodded, her expression earnest.
But something didn't sit right with Bennett. Later that day, while Liz was away, he called her grandma.
"Abuelita," he began cautiously,
"can I ask you something? Liz mentioned a relative named Vincent Pascual. Is he part of your family?"
Her grandma's voice was firm and resolute.
"There is no one in our family, or even distant relatives, with that name."
Bennett's suspicions deepened. When Liz returned, he gently confronted her.
"Liz," he began, his voice calm but probing,
"are you sure about this Vincent guy? Your grandma said—"
"Why are you asking her?" Liz snapped, defensive.
"You don't trust me?"
"It's not about trust," Bennett said, his tone measured.
"I just want to understand."
After days of tension, Liz finally broke down.
"Okay, fine," she admitted, tears welling in her eyes.
"He's not my uncle. He's just... a friend. I called him my uncle because I thought it sounded cool."
Bennett's face softened, but Liz continued, her voice trembling.
"I was so blinded by admiration for him. But he's not who I thought he was. He's... he's a womanizer, Bennett. He has girls in every grade—from seventh to twelfth. I didn't see it until it was too late."
The memory shifts to a quiet corner of the school. Liz kneels on the ground, tears streaming down her face.
"I'm so sorry, Bennett," she sobs. "I didn't mean to lie. I didn't mean to hurt you."
Bennett approaches her slowly, his expression unreadable. Liz flinches as he reaches out, expecting anger. Instead, he pulls her into a warm embrace.
"Liz," he says softly,
"God forgives those who seek His mercy. That's all I wanted to hear from you during those bad times."
Liz clings to him, her tears soaking his shirt.
"I'll never lie to you again, I promise."
They pull apart just enough to look at each other, and Bennett leans in, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.
"We'll be okay," he whispers.
The flashback fades, and Liz finds herself back on the stairs with Wyn.
"So... what happened after that?" Wyn asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
Liz smiles faintly.
"We forgave each other. We moved on."
Wyn sniffles, wiping at her eyes.
"That's... that's so beautiful. But also so sad."
Liz laughs softly.
"Stop crying. It's in the past now."
Wyn composes herself, but her expression turns serious.
"What about Vincent? What if he tries to mess with you again?"
Liz's smile fades.
"We'll avoid him. As much as possible."
Wyn nods, her resolve firm.
"I've got your back, Liz. Always."
Liz reaches over, squeezing Wyn's hand.
"Thanks, Wyn."
The bell rings, signaling the end of their break. As they head back to class, Liz feels a little lighter, knowing she doesn't have to face her shadows alone.
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