I crossed my arms, raising my right eyebrow. "Did you take it?"  

"Yesn't?" She chuckled.  

Huh?

I was about to grab it from her when she suddenly hid it behind her back. "Girlie, did you hear the news from Zesty Bites?"  

"No."  

"Guess what," she leaned closer. "Mrs. Nelly Alonto’s son, who returned from Japan a year ago, is now working at their restaurant to improve the bad ratings! Almost all the students at our school are dining there, raving about his cooking skills and saying he’s turned the dishes into culinary masterpieces. They’ve noticed a huge improvement since he joined the kitchen! Let’s have dinner there!"  

"No," I rejected her suggestion. "Just go by yourself. You don’t have to invite me every time." My cold reply made her pout.  

"Come on! We should at least try the new dishes. The food in the canteen is getting boring," she complained. "It hasn’t been the same since Grandma Lita passed away."  

"Then go and try it yourself."  

"Ugh, come on!" She slumped back into her chair, frustrated. "Come with me. You know I hate being alone, right?"  

"Get used to it—hey, wait! Where are you taking me?" I asked, startled when she suddenly grabbed my right wrist and started pulling me down the long hallway. "I said I’m not going—"  

"Let’s go!" she insisted, leaving me no choice as she dragged me along.  

We arrived at the restaurant she had mentioned earlier. Just as we were about to enter, a smiling man dressed as a waiter greeted us.  

"Good morning, ladies," he said, his perfume too strong and nearly suffocating. He took my hand and kissed it sweetly. I frowned and pulled back, but he kissed it again, making me even more uncomfortable.  

Clarissa watched, looking amused as if she were watching a movie. "So, a table for two?" the waiter asked.  

"No, just one."  

"Huh?" Clarissa asked, confused.  

I pulled my hand away sharply, startling him. "I’m leaving. That was inappropriate," I said firmly, turning to leave. "Respecting personal boundaries is important, but you clearly didn’t. I shouldn’t have come."  

Before I could exit, Clarissa blocked my way, arms stretched wide.  

"Remember why we’re here," she reminded me.  

"You can stay and enjoy the food. I’m leaving," I said, not caring if we caused a scene. It was his fault, not mine. People could judge all they wanted; it didn’t bother me.  

A deep voice interrupted us, making both of us turn. A man with a cold stare, who looked just like Mrs. Nelly, was standing there—likely her son who had just returned from Japan.  

"I apologize for Mr. Ajax’s behavior," he said, bowing, which surprised Clarissa. He grabbed Ajax’s tie, forcing him into a bow. "I’ll ensure he learns from this and respects customers’ boundaries. Please accept our apologies."  

"He’s handsome..." Clarissa whispered, blushing.  

I frowned at her.  

"It’s fine; my friend has already apologized," she said sweetly, easing the tension. She clung to my arm tightly. "So, a table for two, please."  

"Right away," he responded.  

We followed him as he led us to a vacant table, shooting Ajax a warning glance. "Do your job properly. I’ll get back to work. Don’t cause any more trouble." Ajax nodded, though he was clearly irritated by the reprimand.  

The man turned back to us. "I’ll excuse myself," he said before heading back to the kitchen.  

As we sat down, two women at the next table started chatting. "Clark is really handsome!"  

"Whoever gets him is so lucky."  

"So, his name is Clark..." Clarissa turned to me after eavesdropping on the women. "Girl, should I try getting Clark’s number?" she grinned.  

"Go ahead," I replied nonchalantly.  

Nearby, Ajax caught Clarissa’s attention again. "So, ladies, can I take your order?" he asked, his stare still intense. This guy was really getting on my nerves.  

Clarissa eagerly placed her order without hesitation. I didn’t even bother picking up the menu in front of me. I wasn’t interested in eating here anyway. Whatever she ordered would be fine with me.  

"I’ll have carbonara and lasagna," she said sweetly, her gaze lingering on him. But I noticed she kept glancing at me, which puzzled me. Then I realized why and shot a glance at Ajax, who was still staring at me.  

"And for you, madam?" he asked.  

"Cut the ‘madam’ out," I said, finally meeting his annoying gaze. Honestly, he had beautiful eyes for a guy, but I was too irritated to care. "I’ll have the same order as her."  

"Understood." Before he left, he smiled and winked. I cringed at the gesture.  

"He really likes you, huh?" Clarissa teased, grabbing my hand.  

"Well, I don’t," I replied, reaching for a glass of water and taking a sip.  

"But he’s got a pretty face!" she said, letting go of my hand and leaning back in her chair, crossing her legs. "He’d definitely have good-looking kids."  

I rolled my eyes. "Cut out the ‘good-looking kids’ thing."  

While we waited for our food, I scrolled through my Instagram feed. Nothing interesting, just photos of celebrities I followed.  

From a distance, I saw Ajax approaching with our orders, a grin plastered on his face. Of all the waiters, why him?  

"Here are your orders, ladies."  

To my confusion, there was an extra mango float and a slice of strawberry shortcake, which we didn’t order. He carefully placed everything on the table, setting the desserts beside my meals.  

Were these for me?  

"These are for you, madam," he said, smiling.  

I raised an eyebrow and crossed my arms. "I didn’t order these."  

"They’re my little treats for the beautiful lady," he said, still smiling.  

I sighed. "How much?"

"I'll cover it," he replied. "I told you, these are my treats. Obviously, I'll be the one paying."  

I glanced at Clarissa, who was smiling from ear to ear, barely containing her excitement. "Just accept it, girl!"  

I closed my eyes briefly before responding. "Fine. Thank you." Ajax's smile grew even wider. "But next time, just serve what the customer orders. Stop giving out treats."  

"Well," he leaned in closer, "convince me more, madam." Then he walked away.  

"You're so lucky, girl!" Clarissa squealed.  

I glared at her. "Cut it out, Clarissa." I pushed the desserts toward her. "These are yours now."  

"Huh?" She raised an eyebrow, confused. "You don't even want to taste it? Not even a spoon? Come on!"  

"No."  

"Why?"  

"This food is too much; I can't finish all of it, and I'm not into sweets, especially cakes."  

"Really?" She sighed. "Fine, such a waste if we just leave it here."  

Clarissa started eating, endlessly giving positive comments about the food she tasted. She really liked it. She glanced at my plate when she noticed I wasn’t touching my food.  

"Baby girl, why aren’t you eating yet?" she asked, pausing what she was doing.  

"I'll eat later," I said. I’m a fast eater anyway, so I’ll get to it later.  

My attention was engrossed in the news on Google. There had been a school shooting at Mindanao Millennium Institute, with more than ninety-one people dead and forty-three injured. As I read the article, I learned that this wasn’t the first school shooting in Mindanao; many schools had been victims of such tragedies.  

What was puzzling was that before the shooting occurred, a song was heard over the speakers. The song was titled "Pumped Up Kicks." I wasn’t familiar with it, so I quickly opened Spotify and took out my Bluetooth earbuds from my Gucci sling bag, a gift from my dad on my 15th birthday. I don’t need this bag, nor did I want it. I can’t understand why he loves wasting money on things like this when there are cheaper bags available.  

"Girl! Put down your phone and eat first. You know it’s rude to use your phone while eating, don’t you?" she lectured, but I ignored her. I continued listening to the song after putting an earbud in my right ear and connecting it to my phone.  

From the first verse, I understood why this song was played before the school shooting. I kept listening until it reached the chorus:  

All the other kids with the pumped-up kicks

You better run, better run, outrun my gun  

All the other kids with the pumped-up kicks  

You better run, better run, faster than my bullet.

My music was interrupted when Clarissa suddenly snatched my phone, turning off the Bluetooth and causing my earbuds to disconnect.  

She had had enough of me ignoring her and confiscated my phone. "I said, eat already. I’m almost done, and you’re just about to start. You can finish that later."  

I sighed and started eating, my mind still pondering the theory about the music playing during school shootings. I think the victims only need to hear the chorus as a signal to run for their lives. I didn’t finish the song, so that’s just my theory.  

I slowly looked up at Clarissa when I noticed her staring at me, waiting for my comment about the food.  

"It’s delicious, isn’t it?"  

"It’s fine," I replied indifferently. She immediately gave me a sharp look and rolled her eyes. I ignored her and continued eating, my thoughts still occupied by the school shooting.