Page 58 of The Fallacy of True Love
My stomach clenched, but I answered the only way I could. “I’m sorry but that’s a personal story, and I don’t feel comfortable talking about it.”
This was it—my dealbreaker. If they insisted on me spilling, I would walk away from this opportunity. It would be a sign that they wouldn’t respect my boundaries, and I couldn’t stomach that. No job was special enough that I’d trade in my personal history just so I’d stay in the running for it.
“I understand,” Elaine said after a brief moment of silence. “I asked because we usually require our employees to be college graduates, though we do have some exemptions for specific roles.”
I wanted to name famous dropouts who went on to build massive empires, only I couldn’t claim to be as brilliant as they were. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t do just as well as any college graduate. “Is there any way I could prove that I’m capable of fulfilling the role?”
“We will have auditions, but in order to qualify, we’ll need to complete your background check. Do you have a certificate of honorable dismissal? If you could provide that together with the transcript of your grades, that will help your case.”
“Of course,” I answered. “I’ll locate the paperwork and send it to you right away.”
We chatted a bit more, and then I hung up and dove into the plastic container that served as my catchall for important files. My transcript of records was in a folder with my birth certificate, but no matter how hard I searched for my dismissal certificate, I turned up empty.
Sitting on the floor, I breathed out, “Shit.” It should have been there with my transcript. I’d gotten both of them for this very purpose before leaving Manila. So where was it?
I jumped to my feet and proceeded to turn my room inside out.
An hour later, I still came up empty-handed. Which meant one of either two things—I had to go back to my college and get it.
Or I had to ask someone to get it for me.
Alonzo
Two weeks into my classes, the craze around Tala and Jason subsided enough that I had gone back to my regular commutes instead of borrowing my parents’ car to avoid attention. My classmates made offhand comments about my family connections occasionally, but those grew few and far between as their focus shifted to more important things—namely, surviving our professors.
If only I could say the same thing about my dad, who only doubled-down on micromanaging me.
On the first Tuesday of February, I got home just before midnight and endured a lecture from him about staying out late on a school night. I told him I’d attended a study session after my shift at the coffee shop. In response, he’d questioned me about telling the truth.
I had been.
In the past, I’d stayed out much later, and not always for academic reasons. Mama had been okay with it so long as I told her where I was and what time I’d be home. Now, I had to follow rules that didn’t exist before. It was like I was aging in reverse.
I cooled off with a shower and settled at my desk to continue studying when a notification appeared on my phone.
Unknown number
manila. u owe me for saving ur life
A chuckle burst out of me. There was no question who the text came from. Trust Cam to initiate a conversation with a demand.
Alonzo
Hi Cam. Do I have to give up a kidney or what?
Cam
not atm bt ill rem u offered. i need u to get smthing fr the registrar
I frowned, wondering if she’d typed the wrong word. Of all the favors I could imagine her asking for, nothing came remotely close to the topic of school.
Alonzo
You mean the State U Law registrar?
Cam
ofc not. undergrad.
